Everything at this inn is most comfortable, though the style is rough
and ready. The interior is just now decorated for Christmas, with
wreaths, and evergreens, and ferns, and bunches of white plumes, not
unlike _reva-reva_, made from the pith of the silver-grass. The beds
and bedrooms are clean, but limited in number, there being only three
of the latter altogether. The rooms are separated only by partitions
of grass, seven feet high, so that there is plenty of ventilation, and
the heat of the fire permeates the whole building. But you must not
talk secrets in these dormitories or be too restless. I was amused to
find, in the morning, that I had unconsciously poked my hand through
the wall of our room during the night.
The grandeur of the view in the direction of the volcano increased as
the evening wore on. The fiery cloud above the present crater
augmented in size and depth of colour; the extinct crater glowed red
in thirty or forty different places; and clouds of white vapour
issued from every crack and crevice in the ground, adding to the
sulphurous smell with which the atmosphere was laden. Our room faced
the volcano: there were no blinds, and I drew back the curtains and
lay watching the splendid scene until I fell asleep.
_Sunday, December 24th (Christmas Eve)_.
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