{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35704/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35704","id":"gutenberg_35704","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35704","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Mythology, Classical -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Bryan Ness, Martin Pettit and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWONDER STORIES\n\nTHE BEST MYTHS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS\n\n\n[Illustration: Iris crossing the Rainbow Bridge. _Page 222_]\n\n\n\n\nWONDER STORIES\n\nTHE BEST MYTHS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS\n\nBY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY\n\nAuthor: \"For the Children's Hour,\" \"For the Story Teller,\"\n\"Stories Children Need,\" \"Tell Me Another Story,\"\n\"Stories of Great Adventures,\" etc.\n\nWITH SIX PICTURES IN COLORS By CLARA M. BURD\n\n1920\n\nMILTON BRADLEY COMPANY\nSPRINGFIELD MASSACHUSETTS\n\n\nCOPYRIGHTED, 1920 BY\nMILTON BRADLEY COMPANY\nSPRINGFIELD, MASS.\n\n_All Rights Reserved_\n\nBradley Quality Books _for_ Children\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\n                                                PAGE\nHow the Myths Began                                7\n\nWhat Prometheus Did with a Bit of Clay            13\n\nThe Paradise of Children.--Nathaniel Hawthorne    22\n\nWhat Became of the Giants                         33\n\nHow Vulcan Made the Best of Things                40\n\nHow Orion Found His Sight                         48\n\nThe Wonders Venus Wrought                         56\n\nWhere the Labyrinth Led                           65\n\nHow Perseus Conquered the Sea                     74\n\nPegasus, the Horse Who Could Fly                  84\n\nHow Mars Lost a Battle                            92\n\nHow Minerva Built a City                         102\n\nCadmus, the Alphabet King                        113\n\nThe Picture Minerva Wove                         120\n\nThe Hero with a Fairy Godmother                  126\n\nThe Pygmies.--Nathaniel Hawthorne                136\n\nThe Horn of Plenty                               148\n\nThe Wonder the Frogs Missed                      154\n\nWhen Phaeton's Chariot Ran Away                  163\n\nWhen Apollo was Herdsman                         174\n\nHow Jupiter Granted a Wish                       181\n\nHow Hyacinthus Became a Flower                   189\n\nHow King Midas Lost His Ears                     196\n\nHow Mercury Gave up his Tricks                   205\n\nA Little Errand Girl's New Dress                 215\n\nWhen Proserpine was Lost                         224\n\nThe Ploughman who Brought Famine                 234\n\nThe Bee Man of Arcadia                           242\n\nWhen Pomona Shared Her Apples                    252\n\nHow Psyche Reached Mount Olympus                 261\n\nHow Melampos Fed the Serpent                     272\n\nHow a Huntress Became a Bear                     281\n\nThe Adventure of Glaucus                         287\n\nThe Winning of the Golden Fleece                 297\n\nMedea's Cauldron                                 304\n\nHow a Golden Apple Caused a War                  311\n\nHow a Wooden Horse Won a War                     322\n\nThe Cyclops.--Alfred Church                      329\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE MYTHS BEGAN\n\n\nLong ago, when our earth was more than two thousand years younger, there\nwas a wonderful place called Mount Olympus at the top of the world that\nthe ancients could see quite clearly with the eyes of hope and faith. It\ndid not matter that the Greek and Roman people had never set foot on\nthis mountain in the clouds. They knew it in story and reverenced the\ngods and goddesses who inhabited it.\n\nIn the days when the myths were told, Greece was a more beautiful\ncountry than any that is the result of civilization to-day, because the\nnational ideal of the Greeks was beauty and they expressed it in\nwhatever they thought, or wrote, or made with their hands. No matter how\nfar away from home the Greeks journeyed they remembered with pride and\nlove their blue bays and seacoast, the fertile valleys and sheep\npastures of Arcadia, the sacred grove of Delphi, those great days when\ntheir athletes met for games and races at Athens, and the wide plains of\nOlympia covered and rich with the most perfect temples and statues that\nthe world has ever known. When the Greeks returned the most beloved\nsight that met their eyes was the flag of their nation flying at\nCorinth, or the towers of the old citadel that Cadmus had founded at\nThebes.\n\nIt was the youth time of men, and there were no geographies or histories\nor books of science to explain to the ancients those things about life\nthat everyone wants to know sooner or later. There was this same longing\nfor truth among the Roman people as well as among the Greeks. The\nRomans, also, loved their country, and built temples as the Greeks did,\nevery stone of which they carved and fitted as a stepping stone on the\nway to the abode of the gods.\n\nBut who were these gods, and what did a belief in their existence mean\nto the Greek and Roman people?\n\nThere have been certain changes in two thousand years on our earth. We\nhave automobiles instead of chariots, our ships are propelled by steam\ninstead of by a favorable wind, and we have books that attempt to tell\nus why spring always follows winter and that courage is a better part\nthan cowardice. But we still have hard winters and times when it is most\ndifficult to be brave. We still experience war and famine and crime,\nand peace and plenty and love in just about the same measure that they\nwere to be found in Greece and Rome. The only difference is that we are\na little closer to understanding life than the ancients were. They tried\nto find a means of knowing life facts and of explaining the miracles of\noutdoors and of ruling their conduct by their daily intercourse with\nthis higher race of beings, the gods, on Mount Olympus.\n\nThere was a gate of clouds on the top of Mount Olympus that the\ngoddesses, who were known as the Seasons, opened to allow the\ninhabitants of the Mount to descend to the earth and return. Jupiter,\nthe ruler of the gods, sat on the Olympian throne holding thunderbolts\nand darts of lightning in his mighty hands. The same arts and labors as\nthose of men were practised by these celestial beings. Minerva and her\nhandmaidens, the Graces, wove garments for the goddesses of more\nexquisite colors and textures than any that could be made by human\nhands. Vulcan built the houses of the gods of glittering brass. He\nshaped golden shoes that made it possible for them to travel with great\nspeed, and he shod their steeds so that their chariots could ride upon\nthe water. Hebe fed the gods with nectar and ambrosia, prepared and\nserved by her own fair hands. Mars loosed the dogs of war, and the\nmusic of Apollo's lute was the song of victory and peace when war was\nended. Ceres tended and blessed the fields of grain, and Venus, clad in\nbeautiful garments by the Seasons, expressed the desire of the nations,\nof dumb beasts and of all nature for love.\n\nThere were many more than these, making the great immortal family of the\ngods, like men, but different in their higher understanding of life and\nits meaning. They lived apart on their Mount, but they descended often\nto mingle with the people. They stood beside the forge and helped with\nthe harvest, their voices were heard in the rustling leaves in the\nforest and above the tumult and crash of war. They guarded the flocks\nand crowned the victors in games and carried brave warriors to Elysian\nfields after their last battles. They loved adventure and outdoors; they\nfelt joy and knew pain. These gods were the daily companions of the\nancients who have given them to us in our priceless inheritance of the\nclassics and art.\n\nWhen you read the poems of the blind Roman, Homer, and those of Ovid and\nVirgil; when you see a picture of a columned Greek temple or the statue\nof the Apollo Belvedere or the Guido Reni painting of Aurora lighting\nthe sky with the torches of day, you, too, are following the age-old\nstepping stones that led to Mount Olympus. The myths were the\ninspiration for the greatest writing and architecture and sculpture and\npainting that the world has ever known. They were more than this.\n\nAmong the ruins of the ancient cities there was found one temple with a\nstrange inscription on the altar: \"To the unknown God.\" The temple was\nplaced on Mars Hill as if, out of the horrors of war, this new hope had\ncome to the people.\n\nThe word mythology means an account of tales. The myths were just that,\ntales, but most beautiful and worth while stories. So that people who\nmade them and retold them and lived as the gods would have had them live\ncame, finally, to feel that there was need for them to build this other,\nlast altar.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT PROMETHEUS DID WITH A BIT OF CLAY\n\n\nEvery boy and girl has the same wonder at one time or another.\n\n\"How was the world made?\" they ask.\n\nSo did the boys and girls of that long ago time when the myths were new,\nand the Greek teachers told them that the earth and sky were all a huge\nChaos at first until the gods from their thrones, with the help of\nNature, straightened out all things and gave order to the world. They\nseparated the earth from the sea, first, and then the sky from both of\nthese. The universe was all a flaming mass in the beginning but the\nfiery part was light and ascended, forming the skies. The air hung just\nbelow the skies. The waters were very heavy and took the lowest place\nwhere the earth held them safely in its hollows.\n\nJust as one takes a ball of clay and moulds it into shape, some one of\nthe gods, it was said, moulded the Earth. He gave places to the rivers\nand the bays, raised mountains, planted the forests and laid out fertile\nfields. And, next, the fishes swam in the waters, birds flew through the\nwoods and built nests, and four-footed beasts began to be seen\neverywhere.\n\nBut the earth was not finished then by any means. There were two giants\nof the race of the Titans who inhabited the earth at that time, and both\nof these brothers, Prometheus and Epimetheus, could do marvellous things\nwith their hands. Prometheus took a little of the new earth in his hands\nand as he looked it over he saw, hidden in it, some heavenly seeds, very\ntiny of course but they gave him an idea about something wonderful that\nhe might be able to do. So Prometheus mixed some water with this handful\nof earth and seed; he kneaded it well, and then he skilfully moulded it\ninto a form as nearly like the gods as he could make it. This figure of\nclay stood upright. Instead of turning its eyes down to the ground as\nthe four-footed creatures did, this form that Prometheus had made looked\nup toward the sky where the sun and the stars shone now that the air had\ncleared.\n\nPrometheus had made man.\n\nWhile the giant was accomplishing this, his brother, Epimetheus, had\nbeen busy with the task of equipping the other creatures of the earth so\nthat they could take care of themselves. To some he gave the gift of\ncourage, to others wisdom, great strength, or swiftness. Each creature\nwas given that which he most needed. It was then that the slow moving\ntortoise found his shell and the eagle his talons. The deer was given\nhis slender limbs and the dove his wings. The sheep put on his woolly\ncovering that was to be renewed as often as man sheared it, and the\nhorse, the camel and the elephant were provided with such great strength\nin their backs that they were able to draw and carry heavy loads.\n\nEpimetheus was greatly interested in the man that his brother had made\nand he felt that he might be in danger from the wild beasts that were\nnow so numerous and haunted the forests. So he suggested something to\nthe giant and Prometheus took a torch, cut in the first forest, up to\nheaven and lighted it at the chariot of the sun. In this way he brought\ndown fire to the earth.\n\nThat was the most useful gift he could possibly have given man. This\nfirst man had begun to dig caves and make leafy covers in the woods and\nhuts woven of twigs to be his shelters. Now that fire had come to the\nearth he was able to light a forge and shape metals into weapons and\ntools. He could defend himself from wild beasts with the spear he made,\nand cut down trees with his axe for building a stronger home. He made a\nploughshare and harnessed Epimetheus' oxen to it as he planted his\nfields with food grains.\n\nIt seemed as if the earth was going to be a very good place indeed for\nman and his children, but after awhile all kinds of unexpected things\nbegan to happen. The strange part about it was that man, Prometheus'\nmixture of clay and heavenly seed, seemed to be at the bottom of most of\nthe trouble. Men used the axe to rob the forests of timber for building\nwar ships and fortifications around the towns, and they forged swords\nand helmets and shields. Seamen spread their sails to the wind to vex\nthe face of the ocean. Men were not satisfied with what the surface of\nthe earth could give them, but dug deep down underneath it and brought\nup gold and precious stones about which they fought among themselves,\neach wanting to possess more than his neighbor. The land was divided\ninto shares and this was another cause of war, for each landowner wanted\nto take away his brother's grant and add it to his own.\n\nEven the gods began to augment the troubles of the earth.\n\nIn the beginning, before the forge fires were lighted, there had been a\nGolden Age. Then the fields had given all the food that man needed.\nFlowers came up without the planting of seeds, the rivers flowed with\nmilk, and thick, yellow honey was distilled by the honey bees. But the\ngods sent the Silver Age, not so pleasant as the one of gold. Jupiter,\nthe king of the gods, shortened the spring and divided the year into\nseasons. Man learned then what it was to be too cold in the winter and\ntoo warm in the summer. Then came the Bronze and the Iron ages. That was\nwhen war and greed broke out.\n\nJupiter decided that the people of the earth should be further punished.\nHe imprisoned the north wind which scatters the clouds and sent out the\nsouth wind to cover the face of the sky with pitchy darkness. The clouds\nwere driven together with a crash and torrents of rain fell. The crops\nwere laid low so that all the year's labor of the husbandman was\ndestroyed. Jupiter even called upon his brother, Neptune, who was the\ngod of the sea, to let loose the rivers and pour them over the land. He\ntore the land with an earthquake so that even the sea overflowed its\nshores. Such a flood as followed; the earth was nearly all sea without\nshore! The hills were the only land, and people were obliged to ride\nfrom one to another of them in boats while the fish swam among the tree\ntops. If an anchor was dropped, it found a place in a garden. Awkward\nsea-calves gamboled about where there had once been lambs playing in\ngreen pastures; wolves struggled in the water among sheep, and yellow\nlions and tigers were submerged by the rush of the sea.\n\nIt really seemed as if the earth was about to be lost in a second chaos,\nbut at last a green mountain peak appeared above the waste that the\nwaters had made and on it a man and woman of the race the giant\nPrometheus had made took refuge. Remembering the heavenly seed that was\npart of their birthright, they looked up toward the sky and asked\nJupiter to take pity on them. Jupiter ordered the north wind to drive\naway the clouds, and Neptune sounded his horn to order the waters to\nretreat. The waters obeyed, and the sea returned to its basins.\n\nIt was a very bare and desolate earth upon which the people looked down\nfrom the Mount of Parnassus. They had not forgotten how to build and\nmine and plant and harvest and keep a home. They would have to begin\nthings all over again, they knew, and there were two ways of going about\nit.\n\nOne way would be to leave the earth the desert place which it now was\nand try to wreak vengeance on the gods for the destruction they had\nbrought upon the earth. Prometheus, the Titan, still lived and he was\npossessed of a secret by means of which he could take Jupiter's throne\naway from him. He would probably never have used this secret, but the\nfact that he had it came to the ears of the mighty Jupiter and caused\nmuch consternation among the gods. Jupiter ordered Vulcan, the smith of\nthe gods, to forge some great links for a heavy chain. With these he\nchained Prometheus to a rock and sent a vulture to eat his flesh which\ngrew again continually so that Prometheus suffered most terrible pain as\nthe vulture returned each day.\n\nHis torture would come to an end the moment he told his secret, Jupiter\nassured Prometheus, but the giant would not speak because of the harm\nhis words might cause the men and women of earth. He suffered there\nwithout any rest, and the earth began to take on its former guise of\nfertility and prosperity as man tried to bring again the Golden Age\nthrough his own efforts. And whenever a man felt like giving up the\ntask, which was indeed a mighty one, he would think of Prometheus\nchained to the rock. His flesh that came from the earth was the prey of\nthe vulture, but the seed of the gods which was hidden in every mortal,\ngave him strength to resist what he believed to be wrong and bear\nsuffering.\n\nA strange old story, is it not? But it is also a story of to-day. Ours\nis the same earth with its fertile fields and wide forests, its rich\nmines and its wealth of flocks and herds. They are all given to us, just\nas the gods gave them to the first men, for the development of peace and\nplenty. And man, himself, is still a mixture of earth stuff and\nsomething else, too, that Prometheus called heavenly seed and we call\nsoul. When selfishness and greed guide our uses of land and food and the\nmetals there is apt to be pretty nearly as bad a time on the earth as\nwhen Jupiter and Neptune flooded it. But there is always a chance to be\na Prometheus who can forget about everything except the right, and so\nhelp in bringing again the Golden Age of the gods to the world.\n\n\n\n\n[1]THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN\n\n\nLong, long ago, when this old world was in its tender infancy, there was\na child named Epimetheus who never had either father or mother; and that\nhe might not be lonely, another child, fatherless and motherless like\nhimself, was sent by the gods to be his playfellow and helpmate. Her\nname was Pandora.\n\nThe first thing that Pandora saw when she entered the cottage where\nEpimetheus lived was a great box. And almost the first question that she\nput to him was this,\n\n\"Epimetheus, what have you in that box?\"\n\n\"My dear little Pandora,\" answered Epimetheus, \"that is a secret, and\nyou must be kind enough not to ask any questions about it. The box was\nleft here to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains.\"\n\nIt is thousands of years since the myths tell us that Epimetheus and\nPandora lived; and the world now-a-days is a very different sort of\nplace from what it was then. There were no fathers or mothers to take\ncare of the children, because there was no danger or trouble of any\nkind, and no clothes to be mended, and there was plenty to eat and\ndrink. Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he found it growing on a\ntree. It was a very pleasant life indeed. No labor had to be done, no\ntasks studied, all was sport and dancing and the sweet voices of\nchildren talking, or caroling like birds, or laughing merrily all day\nlong.\n\nBut Pandora was not altogether happy on account of Epimetheus'\nexplanation about the box.\n\n\"Where can it have come from?\" she continually asked herself, \"and what\non earth can be inside it?\" At last she spoke to Epimetheus.\n\n\"You might open the box,\" Pandora said, \"and then we could see its\ncontents for ourselves.\"\n\n\"Pandora, what are you thinking of?\" Epimetheus exclaimed. And his face\nexpressed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box, which had\nbeen given him on condition that he never open it, that Pandora thought\nit best not to suggest it any more. Still she could not help thinking\nand talking about it.\n\n\"At least,\" she said, \"you can tell me how it came here.\"\n\n\"It was left at the door,\" Epimetheus replied, \"just before you came and\nby a person who looked very smiling and intelligent, and who could\nhardly keep from smiling as he set it down. He was dressed in an odd\nkind of a cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of\nfeathers so that it looked as if it had wings.\"\n\n\"What sort of a staff had he?\" asked Pandora.\n\n\"Oh, the most curious staff that you ever saw!\" cried Epimetheus. \"It\nwas like two serpents twisting around a stick, and was carved so\nnaturally that I, at first, thought the serpents were alive.\"\n\n\"I know him,\" said Pandora thoughtfully. \"Nobody else has such a staff.\nIt was Mercury, and he brought me here as well as the box. No doubt he\nintended it for me, and most probably it contains pretty dresses for me\nto wear, or toys for us both, or something nice for us to eat.\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" answered Epimetheus, turning away, \"but until Mercury\ncomes back and gives his permission, we have neither of us any right to\nlift the lid.\"\n\nOne day not long after that Epimetheus went to gather figs and grapes by\nhimself without asking Pandora. Ever since she had come he had heard\nabout that box, nothing but the box, and he was tired of it. And as soon\nas he was gone, Pandora kneeled down on the floor and looked intently at\nit.\n\nIt was made of a beautiful kind of wood, and was so highly polished that\nPandora could see her face in it. The edges and corners were carved with\nmost wonderful skill. Around the edge there were figures of graceful men\nand women and the prettiest children ever seen, reclining or playing in\ngardens and forests. The most beautiful face of all was done in high\nrelief in the centre of the box. There was nothing else save the dark,\nrich smoothness of the wood and this one face with a garland of flowers\nabout its brow. The features had a kind of mischievous expression with\nall their loveliness and if the mouth had spoken it would probably have\nsaid,\n\n\"Do not be afraid Pandora! What harm can there be in opening a box.\nNever mind that poor, simple Epimetheus. You are wiser than he and have\nten times as much courage. Open the box and see if you do not find\nsomething very pretty.\"\n\nAnd on this particular day, when Pandora was alone, her curiosity grew\nso great that at last she touched the box. She was more than half\ndetermined to open it if she could.\n\nFirst, however, she tried to lift it. It was heavy, much too heavy for\nthe slender strength of a child like Pandora. She raised one end of the\nbox a few inches from the floor, and then let it fall with a pretty loud\nthump. A moment afterward she almost thought that she heard something\nstir inside the box. She was not quite sure whether she heard it or not,\nbut her curiosity grew stronger than ever. Suddenly her eyes fell on a\ncurious knot of gold that tied it. She took it in her fingers and,\nalmost without intending it, she was soon busily engaged in trying to\nundo it.\n\nIt was a very intricate knot indeed, but at last, by the merest\naccident, Pandora gave the cord a kind of twist and it unwound itself,\nas if by magic. The box was without a fastening.\n\n[Illustration: Pandora saw a crowd of ugly little shapes.]\n\n\"This is the strangest thing I ever knew,\" Pandora said. \"What will\nEpimetheus say? And how can I possibly tie it again?\"\n\nAnd then the thought came into her naughty little heart that, since she\nwould be suspected of looking into the box, she might as well do so at\nonce.\n\nAs Pandora raised the lid of the box the cottage was suddenly darkened,\nfor a black cloud had swept quite over the sun and seemed to have buried\nit alive. There had, for a little while past, been a low growling and\ngrumbling which all at once broke into a heavy peal of thunder. But\nPandora heeded nothing of all this. She lifted the lid nearly upright\nand looked inside. It seemed as if a sudden swarm of winged creatures\nbrushed past her, taking flight out of the box while, at the same time,\nshe heard the voice of Epimetheus in the doorway exclaiming as if he was\nin pain,\n\n\"Oh, I am stung! I am stung! Naughty Pandora, why have you opened this\nwicked box?\"\n\nPandora let fall the lid and looked up to see what had befallen\nEpimetheus. The thundercloud had so darkened the room that she could\nnot clearly see what was in it. But she heard a disagreeable buzzing,\nas if a great many huge flies or giant bees were darting about. And as\nher eyes grew accustomed to the dimness she saw a crowd of ugly little\nshapes, looking very spiteful, and having bats' wings and terribly long\nstings in their tails. It was one of these that had strung Epimetheus.\nNor was it a great while after before Pandora herself began to cry. An\nodious little monster had settled on her forehead, and would have stung\nher very deeply if Epimetheus had not run and brushed it away.\n\nNow, if you wish to know what these ugly things were that made their\nescape out of the box, I must tell you that they were the whole family\nof earthly Troubles. There were evil Passions. There were a great many\nspecies of Cares. There were more than a hundred and fifty Sorrows.\nThere were Diseases in a vast number of strange and painful shapes.\nThere were more kinds of Naughtiness than it would be of any kind of use\nto talk about. In short, everything that has since afflicted the souls\nand bodies of mankind had been shut up in the mysterious box given to\nEpimetheus and Pandora to be kept safely in order that the happy\nchildren of the world might never be molested by them. Had they been\nfaithful to their trust all would have gone well with them. No grown\nperson would ever have been sad, nor any child have had cause to shed a\nsingle tear, from that hour until this moment.\n\nBut it was impossible that the two children should keep the ugly swarm\nin their own little cottage. Pandora flung open the windows and doors to\ntry and get rid of them and, sure enough, away flew the winged Troubles\nand so pestered and tormented the people everywhere about that none of\nthem so much as smiled for many days afterward. And the children of the\nearth, who before had seemed ageless, now grew older, day by day, and\ncame soon to be youths and maidens, and men and women, and then old\nfolks, before they dreamed of such a thing.\n\nMeanwhile, the naughty Pandora and Epimetheus remained in their cottage.\nBoth of them had been painfully stung. Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a\ncorner with his back to Pandora. As for poor little Pandora, she flung\nherself upon the floor and rested her head on the fatal box. She was\ncrying as if her heart would break. Suddenly there was a gentle little\ntap on the inside of the lid.\n\n\"What can that be?\" cried Pandora, lifting her head.\n\nBut Epimetheus was too much out of humor to answer her.\n\nAgain the tap! It sounded like the tiny knuckles of a fairy's hand.\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked Pandora, \"who are you inside of this dreadful box?\"\n\nA sweet little voice came from within saying,\n\n\"Only lift the lid and you shall see.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" answered Pandora, \"I have had enough of lifting the lid. You\nneed never think that I shall be so foolish as to let you out.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the sweet little voice again, \"you had much better let me\nout. I am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their\ntails. They have no relation to me as you would soon find out if you\nwould only lift the lid.\"\n\nIndeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery in the tone that made it\nalmost impossible to refuse anything which this little voice asked.\nPandora's heart had grown lighter at every word that came from the box.\nEpimetheus, too, had left his corner and seemed to be in better spirits.\n\n\"Epimetheus!\" exclaimed Pandora, \"come what may, I am resolved to lift\nthe lid.\"\n\n\"And as the lid seems very heavy,\" said Epimetheus, running across the\nroom, \"I will help you.\"\n\nSo, with one consent, the two children lifted the lid. Out flew a sunny\nand smiling little personage and hovered about the room, throwing light\nwherever she went. Have you ever made the sunshine dance into dark\ncorners by reflecting it from a bit of looking glass? Well, so appeared\nthe winged cheerfulness of this fairylike stranger amid the gloom of the\ncottage. She flew to Epimetheus and laid the least touch of her finger\non the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung him and immediately the\npain of it was gone. Then she kissed Pandora on the forehead and her\nhurt was cured likewise.\n\n\"Who are you, beautiful creature?\" asked Pandora.\n\n\"I am to be called Hope,\" explained the sunshiny figure, \"and because I\nam such a cheerful person, I was packed by the gods into the box to make\namends for the swarm of ugly Troubles. Never fear! We shall do pretty\nwell in spite of them.\"\n\n\"Your wings are colored like the rainbow,\" exclaimed Pandora, \"How\nbeautiful!\"\n\n\"And will you stay with us,\" asked Epimetheus, \"forever and ever?\"\n\n\"As long as you need me,\" said Hope, \"and that will be as long as you\nlive in the world. I promise never to desert you.\"\n\nSo Pandora and Epimetheus found Hope, and so has everybody else who has\ntrusted her since that day. The Troubles are still flying around the\nworld, but we have that lovely and lightsome fairy, Hope, to cure their\nstings and make the world new for us.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] By permission of and special arrangement with the Houghton\nMifflin Co.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT BECAME OF THE GIANTS\n\n\nThe giants had decided to invade Mount Olympus. They thought they could\neasily do this, for there were none of the gods who could hurt them; the\ngiants were proof against all their weapons. They believed that this\nwonderful place among the clouds was theirs by right just because they\nwere larger and stronger than the heroes. If the gods refused to give up\ntheir abode with its palaces, the gilded car of day, its stores of food\nsuch as had never been tasted by mortals and its weapons, the thunder\nand lightning, the giants were going to destroy the Mount. That would\nhave been a pity, for with Mount Olympus would go some of the most\nbeautiful foundations the world has ever known.\n\nThere was one of the gods, Apollo, who held the light of the whole\nuniverse in his right hand. It was not only that of the sun, but the\nlight that shone in the hearts of the Greeks and made life brighter when\nthey had wisdom, and knew truth, and could appreciate beauty. There was\nno question at all about this light being Apollo's and coming as a gift\nto men from Mount Olympus, because of his great deeds.\n\nThere was a deep cavern on the green hillside of Parnassus in Greece\nwhere a goat herd, passing by its mouth in ancient times, had inhaled a\nstrange fragrance that had made him able to speak with the knowledge of\na seer. Apollo decided to preserve this cave. The city of Delphi grew\naround it and Apollo sent a priestess crowned with laurel to be its\noracle and welcome those mortals who wanted to breathe its magic air.\nBut a monster of darkness, the Python, placed itself in front of the\noracle and allowed no man to approach Delphi.\n\nApollo, with his shaft of light, drove away the Python and made it\npossible for any one who wanted better eyesight or keener hearing or\nmore truthful speech to come to the oracle.\n\nThat was not all, either, that Apollo had accomplished for the good of\nmen. He protected the Muses, who were the daughters of Jupiter and\nMemory and could do all sorts of things to make happiness. They could\nsing, and draw music from the strings of the lire, write stories and\npoems, and paint pictures. It was said, also, that the laurel tree\nbelonged to Apollo for making wreaths with which to crown those who had\ndone great deeds or made dark paths bright.\n\nBut the giants could see little value in Apollo's light. They thought\nmainly of how to wrest riches and nectar and ambrosia from the gods, and\nthey decided to try and kill Apollo and the Muses first of all.\n\nThessaly had the wildest forests and the most rocky coasts of any part\nof Greece. It was a fitting place for the giants to meet, and it must\nhave been a terrible sight when they landed and formed their ranks for\nbattle. They say that Tityus, one of their leaders, covered nine acres\nwhen he lay down for a nap on a plain. Certain others had a hundred\narms, limbs made of huge serpents and could breathe fire. The worst part\nabout this race of giants was the fact that their hearts were different\nfrom those of the celestials and the mortals. They had hearts made of\nsolid stone which could never beat and feel warm. That was why the\ngiants made preparations to climb up the steep sides of Mount Olympus.\n\nNo one in all Greece dared to try and stop this war of the giants. They\npulled up the mountain Ossa and balanced it on top of Pelion to bridge\nthe way from the earth to the sky. They armed themselves by tearing up\ngreat oak and cypress trees for clubs and carrying rocks as large as\nsmall hills with them. Then the giants climbed up and attacked the\nhabitation of the gods.\n\nIt seemed as if the giants were going to win, for even the gods were\nfrightened and made haste to change their forms. The mighty Jupiter took\nupon himself the figure of a ram. Apollo became a crow, Diana a cat,\nJuno a cow, Venus a fish and Mercury a bird. But Mars, the god of war,\ngot out his chariot and went to meet the giants, and the others returned\nat last, for there was really no courage like theirs.\n\nThe battle was still with the giants, though, for no weapons could kill\nthem. Mars threw his spears and they rebounded from the stone hearts of\nthe giants. No one knew what would happen, for certain of the giants\nwent down to the earth again and brought up hills with which to crush\nthe habitations of the gods, but just then a great idea came to Apollo.\nHe believed that there were unseen forces which were quite as powerful\nas the giants' trees and rocks and hills in deciding this battle. So\nApollo sent Mercury, the messenger with winged shoes, post haste with a\nsecret message to Helios who lived in the palace of the sun commanding\nhim to close and lock the doors. There was no light for the giants to\nfight by and they were well known to be hulking, awkward creatures, very\nclumsy about using their hands and feet. They needed the light. They had\neven made attempts to steal the summer from mortals that they might have\nmore sunshine themselves and they had succeeded in a way, for winter\ncame upon the earth every year with its cold and shorter days. But the\ngiants had neglected to bring any sunshine with them and it was suddenly\nas dark as night on Mount Olympus.\n\nThe giants fumbled about and stumbled and fell upon their own weapons.\nTaking advantage of this temporary rout, Jupiter sent a sky full of\nthunderbolts into their midst and they tumbled back to earth again. It\nwas odd, but Apollo, whom the giants had thought so unessential because\nhe protected knowledge and the oracle of Delphi and the tender Muses,\nhad conquered with his own special weapon, light.\n\nThe giants were not particularly hurt by their fall; they were only\ndriven out of the habitation of the gods and they began taking counsel\ntogether at once as to how they might begin their war all over again.\nBut they suddenly discovered that they had nothing to eat. In their\nabsence, Ceres had cut down and uprooted from the earth the herbs that\nthey needed to keep them alive and preserve their strength. Then, to\nmake sure that their destruction would be complete, Jupiter covered each\ngiant with a volcano. Each was imprisoned fast underneath a mountain,\nand all he could do was to breathe through the top once in a while in a\nfiery way.\n\nThat was the end of the giants. For a while they did some damage,\nparticularly the giant Enceladus whom it took the whole of the volcano\nAetna to cover and keep down. But gradually even the volcanoes became\nquiet and there was more peace upon the earth.\n\nMortals, for all time, though, have followed the example of the giants\nand have tried to use their strength in battle for pillage. They have\ndestroyed beautiful buildings and put out home fires and interfered with\nteaching and music and painting and writing, because they could not see\nthe light shining in these. But what usually happens to them in the end\nis just what happened to the giants who started out to destroy Mount\nOlympus. They find that they have pulled a volcano down over their\nshoulders.\n\n\n\n\nHOW VULCAN MADE THE BEST OF THINGS\n\n\nNo one wanted Vulcan at Olympus because he was a cripple. His mother,\nJuno, was ashamed of him, and his father, the great Jupiter, had the\nsame kind of feeling, that it was a disgrace to have a son who was\nmisshapen and must always limp as he took his way among the other\nstraight limbed gods.\n\nBut Vulcan had a desire to be of service to his fellows. There was once\nan assemblage of the gods at which they were to discuss important\nmatters of heaven and earth, and Vulcan offered his help as cup bearer\nfor the company. He made a droll figure hobbling from seat to seat with\nthe great golden cup, and some of the gods laughed at him.\n\nAt last they threw Vulcan out of the skies and he fell for an entire\nday, so far was it from Olympus to the earth. Near sunset he found\nhimself lying on the ground beside a smoking mountain, bruised and more\nhandicapped than he had ever been before. He had fallen to the island of\nLemnos in the Aegean Sea.\n\nIt was a bare, unbeautiful place, for the coast was set thick with\nvolcanoes that poured forth burning metal at intervals from one year's\nend to another. The Sintians, who were the only inhabitants of the\nisland of Lemnos, had scant means of subsistence because the land was\nunfertile and few ships dared anchor at their shores under the rain of\nfire from the volcano that might destroy them. These people of Lemnos\nwere a kind, simple folk, though, and they had a great pity for Vulcan.\nThey gathered about him and bound up his wounds with healing herbs. They\nshared their scanty store of fruit with him, and they hastened to\nprepare him a tent. But when the Sintians returned to the foot of the\nmountain Mosychlos where they had left Vulcan he was gone.\n\n\"We dreamed of this visitor from the gods,\" they decided. \"It was only a\nfalling star that we watched, dropped from the zenith.\"\n\nSeasons passed and at last it was noticed that the fiery Mosychlos was\nonly smoking. It no longer threatened the lives of the inhabitants of\nLemnos with its red hot torrents. The same fact was to be noted about\nthe other volcanoes; they seemed more like the smoking, sooty chimneys\nof our factories of to-day than the towers of death they had been\nbefore. And above the sound of the surf and the wailing of the wind\nthere could be heard a new sound, the steady beating of a hammer on\nmetal as a smith strikes his ringing blows from morning until night.\n\nThe bolder of the people of Lemnos went to the foot of the mountain and\ndiscovered, to their amazement, that the rock opened like a door. They\nwent inside, following the sound of the hammer. In the very depths of\nthe mountain they saw a sight that had never been seen on earth before.\nThere was a dark smithy in the heart of the burning mountain with a\nforge fire in which the power of the volcano burned, a great forge upon\nwhich Vulcan was shaping metal into things of dazzling beauty, and all\nabout the smithy were the materials for making more; white steel,\nglowing copper, shining silver, and burnished brass and gold.\n\nA strange company of apprentices, the Cyclopes, served Vulcan here.\nThey had once been shepherds, but their peaceful occupation had been\ntaken away from them because they had neglected to pay tribute to\nApollo. Each had but a single eye, placed in the middle of the forehead,\nbut they were using their great strength in the smithy of Vulcan to\nforge thunderbolts for Jupiter, to make a trident for Neptune and a\nquiver of arrows for Apollo. Beside Vulcan stood two wonderful\nhand-maidens of gold, who, like living creatures, moved about and helped\nthe lame smith as he worked.\n\nVulcan, the despised of the gods, had chained fire and conquered the\nmetals of the earth that he might make gifts for the gods and for the\nheroes.\n\nWonderful objects appeared at the doorway of Vulcan's shop and were\ncarried to Mount Olympus. He shaped golden shoes, wearing which, the\ncelestials were able to walk upon land or sea, and travel faster than\nthought flies. He made gold chairs and tables which could move without\nhands in and out of the halls of the gods. The celestial steeds were\nbrought to Vulcan at Lemnos and he shod them so cleverly with brass that\nthey were able to whirl the chariots of the gods through the air or on\nthe waters with all the speed of the wind. He was even shaping brass\ncolumns for the houses of the gods. Vulcan had become the architect,\nsmith, armorer, chariot-builder and the artist of all the work in Mount\nOlympus.\n\nHe was accomplishing more than this. Because he had captured fire and\nmade the metals of the earth serve the ends of peace, the island of\nLemnos became a safe, fertile land. Vineyards were planted and yielded\nrich harvests, flocks fed in green meadows, and Vulcan forged tools with\nwhich agriculture could be carried on. Ships from the other islands of\nGreece sailed to Lemnos and commerce, the strength of a nation, began.\n\nIn those days there was a great war being waged between the Trojans and\nthe Greeks, and many hearts beat with hope at the prowess of a young\nGreek hero, Achilles. Hector, at the head of the Trojans, had stormed\nthe Greek camp and set fire to many of their ships. A captain of the\nGreeks begged Achilles to lend him his armor that he might lead the\nsoldiers against the forces of Troy.\n\n\"They may think me, in your mail, the brave Achilles,\" he said, \"and\npause from fighting, and the warlike sons of Greece, tired as they are,\nmay breathe once more and gain a respite from the conflict.\"\n\nSo Achilles loaned this captain, Patroclus, his radiant armor and his\nchariot, and marshalled his men to follow into the field. At first the\nassault was successful, but there came a change of fortune. Patroclus'\nchariot driver was killed; then he met Hector in single combat, at the\nsame time receiving a spear thrust at the back. So Patroclus fell,\nmortally wounded, and it was a great sorrow as well as a tragedy for\nGreece, for Patroclus had been Achilles' beloved friend, and Hector\nstole the armor of Achilles from his body. News of the defeat went even\nto Mount Olympus and Jupiter covered all the heavens with a black cloud.\n\nBut Thetis, the mother of Achilles, hastened to the smithy of Vulcan and\ntold him that her son was in sore straits, having no suit of mail. She\nfound the lame artisan of the gods at his forge, sweating and toiling,\nand with busy hands plying the bellows. But Vulcan laid by his work at\nonce to weld a splendid suit of armor for Achilles. There was, first of\nall, a shield decorated with the insignia of war; then a helmet crested\nwith gold and a corselet and greaves of metal so tempered that no dart\ncould penetrate them. The task was done in a night and Thetis carried\nthe armor to her son and laid it at his feet at dawn of the next day. No\nman before had ever worn such sumptuous armor.\n\nArrayed in Vulcan's mail Achilles went forth to battle, and the bravest\nof the Trojan warriors fled before him or fell under his spear.\nAchilles, his armor flashing lightning, and he, himself, as terrible as\nMars, pursued the entire army as far as the gates of Troy. His triumph\nwould have been complete, but he had an enemy among the company of the\ngods on Mount Olympus. No arrow shot by the hand of man could have hurt\nAchilles, but Apollo's shaft wounded him mortally. Apollo and Mars were\nthen, and will be for all time, enemies; light and music and song have\nno sympathy with war.\n\nAnd Achilles, having been taken from the battle-fields of earth by a\ndart which Apollo directed, was carried to Olympus along a bright\npathway through the skies. On his way he stopped at the palace of the\nsun. It was reared on stately columns that glittered with gold and\nprecious stones. The ceilings were of ivory, polished and carved, and\nall the doors were of silver. There were pictures on the walls that\nsurpassed in their lines and colors the work of artists upon the earth.\nThe whole world, the sea and the skies with their inhabitants were\npictured. Nymphs played in the sea, rode on the backs of fishes or sat\non the rocks and dried their long hair. The earth was lovely with its\nforests and rivers and valleys. There was a picture of Spring crowned\nwith flowers. Summer wore a garland made of the heads of ripe, golden\ngrain. Autumn carried his arms full of grapes, and Winter wore a mantle\nof bright ice and snow. Seeing this beauty, the hero forgot his wound.\n\nAchilles had been obliged to leave his armor on the earth, an\ninheritance for other brave heroes who were to take his place in the\nsiege of Troy, but Apollo had shown him the greatest work of Vulcan. It\nwas the crippled one of the gods who had built this palace of the sun.\n\n\n\n\nHOW ORION FOUND HIS SIGHT\n\n\nNeptune, the burly old god of the sea, had a son named Orion who was\nalmost as fond of the woods as he was of the ocean. From the time when\nOrion was old enough to catch a sea horse and ride on its back to shore\nhe was gone from his home in the depths of the sea for days at a time.\nWhen Neptune blew his conch-shell to call the runaway home, Orion would\nreturn regretfully with the tales of the bear he had seen in the forest\nor the comb of wild honey he had found in an old oak tree.\n\nNeptune wanted Orion to be happy, so he bestowed upon him at last the\npower of wading as far and in as deep water as he liked. No one had ever\nbeen able to wade right through the fathomless ocean before, but Orion\ncould be seen any day, his dark head showing above the surface of the\nwaters, and his feet paddling beneath without touching the bottom. He\nwas not obliged to depend any more upon his father's chariot or the\ndolphins or the sea horses to carry him to shore.\n\nSo Orion began to spend a good deal of his time on land, and as he grew\nup to be a youth he became a mighty hunter. His arrows seemed to have\nbeen charmed by Diana, so swift and sure they were. And every day Orion\nbagged great spoils of game and deer.\n\nHe was making his way through the forest one day with a mighty bear that\nhe had just slain over his shoulder when he came suddenly upon a\nclearing and in its midst there stood a fair white castle, its towers\nreaching above the pine trees toward the sky. It was surrounded by a\ngreat wall, and when Orion approached and asked the gatekeeper why it\nwas so fortified, he was told that the king of that country who lived in\nit was in constant terror, day and night, of wild beasts.\n\n\"He would give half of his kingdom to whoever could rid the forest of\nits ravening beasts,\" the gatekeeper told Orion.\n\nAs Orion listened, he glanced up at a window of one of the castle towers\nand there he saw the face of the king's daughter, Merope, looking down\nat him. Hers was a bright face, the blue eyes and smiling lips framed in\nher hair which fell in a golden shower and wrapped her about like a\ncloak. Orion delighted in the thought that Merope was smiling at him,\nalthough her eyes were really looking beyond this uncouth son of the sea\nand as far as the shores of Corinth where the heroes set sail for their\nadventures.\n\n\"Would the king, by any chance, do you think, give his daughter, Merope,\nto that hunter who rids the forest of wild beasts?\" Orion asked.\n\nThe gatekeeper looked at Orion's shaggy hair, his bare feet and his\nmantle, made of a lion's skin. He turned away to conceal a smile as he\nanswered.\n\n\"One could ask the king,\" he said.\n\nOrion returned to the deep places where the night was made terrible by\nthe crying of those beasts of prey that hunted for men, and Neptune did\nnot see his son for many moons. Orion shot lions and wrestled\nsingle-handed with bears. He strangled great snakes with his own brawny\nhands and he hunted the wolf and the tiger with his spear. When the\nforest was rid of the pest of these man-eating creatures, Orion returned\nto the castle in the clearing, not waiting even to wash the gore of his\nmighty hunting from his hands and garments, and he presented himself to\nthe king.\n\n\"The forest is free of wild beasts that kill, O King,\" Orion said. \"You\nmay tear down your ramparts and walk in safety among the trees. As my\nreward for the great deed I have done, I ask the hand of your daughter,\nMerope. I would take her home with me to my palace of coral and shell in\nNeptune's kingdom. And if you refuse her to me, I will take her by\nforce.\"\n\nThe king was speechless at first. Then, when he realized the boon that\nthis son of the sea was asking, he seemed to have no words with which to\nexpress his scorn. He raised his sceptre in anger and struck Orion's\neyes.\n\n\"Begone from my court, boaster,\" he commanded.\n\nOrion rose from his place where he had been kneeling at the foot of the\nking's throne and he put his hands to his eyes, for the room seemed\nsuddenly as dark as night. He tried to find the door but he stumbled,\ngroping for it, until the attendants of the court had to take his hands\nand lead him outside. They mocked at him as they pushed him through the\npalace gate and watched this mighty hunter, who had the strength of the\nsea in his limbs, stagger down the road like a blind beggar.\n\nOrion was now sightless. The king, for his presumption in asking for\nMerope, had struck him blind.\n\nWithout sun by day or moon by night, Orion wandered up and down the\nearth, asking of whoever he met the way he must take to find the light\nagain.\n\nOnce he came to a spot in the woods where he heard the sound of many\nsoft footsteps dancing on the moss to the sound of merry piping. Orion\nstretched out his arms as he felt his way nearer to the Hamadryads,\nthose gay creatures of the forest who played all day long with Pan and\nhis tunes for company.\n\n\"Can you, by any chance, direct me to Apollo who drives the chariot of\nthe sun?\" Orion asked.\n\n\"Oh, no,\" the Hamadryads answered, scattering at the sight of the blind\nwayfarer. \"We seldom see Apollo, for he doesn't like the music Pan plays\non his pipes.\"\n\nSo Orion stumbled on, and he heard in the course of his wanderings the\nclash and din of battle as two armies met in mortal combat on the edge\nof a city. War chariots crashed by him, and he heard the din of shield\nstriking shield, and the groans of those heroes who fell wounded to\ndeath.\n\n\"These fighters must know the way to take to the light,\" Orion thought\nand, sheltering himself from the combat beside a column that still\nstood, he cried out to one of the warriors,\n\n\"Have you seen Apollo, driving the chariot of the sun, pass this way\nlately?\"\n\n\"No,\" the man replied. \"Apollo avoids the battle field. We cannot direct\nyou to the god of light.\"\n\nSo Orion wandered on in his darkness until he came at last to the island\nof Lemnos and as he stumbled along a rocky road the sharp ringing of\nhammers beating on metal came to his ears.\n\n\"There must be a smithy close by,\" Orion thought, \"a place as black and\nugly as the world my blindness makes for me. I have heard tales of the\nCyclopes, with only one eye apiece, who spend all their lives under the\nmountains shaping thunderbolts at their forges. Their master is the\nill-shaped Vulcan, the despised of the gods. There is little use in my\nfollowing the sound of a hammer.\"\n\nBut, against his will, Orion kept on. There was a call in the ringing of\nthe hammer that drew him on faster than the merrymaking of Pan had, or\nthe sound of battle. Before long the heat of the forge fire touching his\nface told Orion that he had reached the doorway of Vulcan's smithy at\nthe foot of the mountain, and he asked again,\n\n\"Can you tell me the way to Apollo, who drives the chariot of the sun?\"\n\nHow surprised he was to hear Vulcan reply,\n\n\"Apollo is here. We are sending some forgings of gold to his palace and\nhe will take you with him to the sun, blind Orion.\"\n\nThat was a thrilling ride for Orion, away from the darkness he had\nwalked in so long on the earth, and up along the road of stars that led\nto the sun. Apollo drove the chariot himself, and when they came to the\nstately gold columns that guarded the entrance to his palace, he told\nOrion to look straight at the blazing light of the sun. As he looked,\nOrion's blindness passed. He opened his eyes and could see again.\n\nThe myths say that Orion never left the sky after that. The gods changed\nhim into a giant, with a wide hunting belt, a sword, a lion's-skin\nmantle and a club made all of stars. And they even brought Sirius, his\nfaithful hunting dog, to follow his master forever through the heavens.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERS VENUS WROUGHT\n\n\nOf all the many strange things that happened in the days of the old gods\nand goddesses, the most wonderful of all came to pass one spring morning\nnear the island of Cyprus.\n\nOne expects all kinds of surprises in spring, new leaves and flowers on\nbare branches, the nesting and singing of the wild birds and brighter\nsunshine than in months before, but this wonder of Greece was quite\nunexplainable. To this day no one seems to have been able to account for\nit or understand it. There was hardly a breeze to stir the blue sea and\nthe waters lay like a turquoise mirror, smooth and still. Suddenly the\nfishermen who were casting their nets on the shore saw a bright, rose\ncolored cloud that trembled and then began to drop lower toward the sea\nuntil it floated lightly on the surface of the water. It was so soft and\nethereal that it seemed as if a breath would blow it away, but it rose\nand fell like mist and seemed to almost breathe.\n\nNo one spoke, watching the wonder, and suddenly the cloud began to take\nform and shape. It really breathed, and it blossomed into the most\nbeautiful woman who had ever been seen on earth or on Mount Olympus\neither. Her hair was as bright as sunlight and her face glowed with warm\ncolor like that of the rosy cloud from which she had come. Her flowing\ngarments were as soft and lovely as the tinted sky at sunrise, and she\nstretched out her slender white arms toward the shore.\n\nAt once the four Zephyrs of the west who had not been anywhere about\nbefore came and surrounded this beauteous being, and with their help she\nglided toward the island of Cyprus. The four Seasons descended from\nMount Olympus to meet her there, as the people of Cyprus watched and\nwondered at the marvel.\n\n\"Can it be possible that this heavenly being has come to remain with\nus?\" they asked each other.\n\nAnd even as they wondered the second strange thing happened.\n\nVulcan, the smith of Mount Olympus, had a shop on Cyprus. Here his anvil\ncould be heard ringing every day from sunrise until sunset, for Vulcan\nwas shaping and fitting together the parts of a gold throne for\nJupiter. He was making other things with his skilful hands, weapons and\narmor for the gods and the heroes, and thunderbolts for Jupiter. He was\na lonely smith, very much handicapped by his lameness, and seldom went\nabout much unless it was to take his finished work home to Mount\nOlympus.\n\nBut this is what happened that long ago morning in spring. With amazing\ngrace this lovely person who had been born in the foam of the sea made\nher way to the abode of Vulcan. She was the goddess of love, Venus, who\nis sometimes called Aphrodite. She had come to be the wife of Vulcan who\nwas, in spite of his lameness, the god of fire.\n\nThings were very different on the earth after the coming of Venus. The\nwhole world had been looking for her and hoping for her coming although\nthey had not really known this desire of their hearts. And one of the\nfirst matters that the goddess of love attended to was that of the\nwilful Atalanta who had caused so much sorrow among the heroes of\nGreece.\n\nAtalanta was a princess, too boyish for a girl and too girlish for a\nboy. Many of the heroes had claimed her hand in marriage but she liked\nher own free, wild ways too much to give them up for spinning and the\nhousehold arts. To any prince or hero who asked for her hand Atalanta\nmade the same reply,\n\n\"I will be the prize of him who shall conquer me in a race; but death\nshall be the penalty of all who try and fail!\"\n\nIt was a cruel decree. How Atalanta could run! There had never been a\nboy even who was able to beat her in a race. The breezes seemed to give\nher wings, her bright hair blew over her shoulders, and the gay fringe\nof her dress fluttered behind her. But as Atalanta raced, the ruddy hue\nof her skin seemed to fade and she became as white as marble, for her\nheart grew cold. All her suitors were outdistanced and they were put to\ndeath without mercy.\n\nThen Hippomenes came and decided to risk his life in a race with\nAtalanta. He was a brave, bold youth and although he had been obliged to\nact as judge and condemn many of his friends whom Atalanta had defeated\nto death, he wanted to run. And he asked Venus to help him in the race.\n\nIn Venus' garden in her own island of Cyprus there was a tree with\nyellow leaves and yellow branches and golden fruit. Aphrodite gathered\nthree golden apples from the tree and gave them, unseen, to Hippomenes,\ntelling him how to use them.\n\nThe signal was given and Atalanta darted forward along the sand of the\nshore near Venus' temple with Hippomenes at her side. Hippomenes was a\nswift runner, with a tread so light that it seemed as if he might skim\nthe water or a field of waving grain without leaving a foot print. At\nfirst he gained. Then he felt the beat of Atalanta's breath on his\nshoulder, and the goal was not yet in sight. At that moment Hippomenes\nthrew down one of the golden apples.\n\nAtalanta was so surprised that she stopped a second. She stooped and\npicked up the apple and as she did so Hippomenes shot on ahead. But\nAtalanta redoubled her speed and soon overtook him. Again he threw down\na golden apple. Atalanta could not bear to leave it, and she again\nstopped and picked it up. Then she ran on again. Hippomenes was almost\nto the goal but Atalanta reached and passed him. In a minute she would\nhave won, but Hippomenes dropped the third golden apple. It glittered\nand shone so that Atalanta could not resist it. A third time she\nhesitated and as she did so Hippomenes won the race.\n\nThe two were very happy, Hippomenes in his success and Atalanta in her\nprecious fruit. She at once wanted a house in which to keep it, and when\nHippomenes built her one Atalanta began to spin and weave and take great\npride in making her home beautiful and comfortable. Venus had been quite\nsure that this would happen. She had known that it would be better for\nAtalanta to forget her cruel races, so she gave her these golden apples\nto show her the prizes love brings.\n\nThe goddess of love had other work to do on earth. She was particularly\nfond of her garden in Cyprus and she busied herself for a long time\ntending and coaxing a new bush to live and blossom. It was different\nfrom any shoot that had been seen there before, tough, and dry, and\ncovered with sharp thorns that pricked whoever touched them and drew\nblood like spear points. But Venus handled and trimmed the stalks\nwithout fear until the bush spread and sent out branches that stretched\nup and covered the wall of her temple like a vine. It was noticed that\nthe new shoots and leaves pushed their way up from underneath some of\nthe thorns, which dried up at once and dropped off. Then flower buds\nappeared where there had been sharp thorns which opened, when summer\ndecked Cyprus, into the loveliest blossoms the earth had ever seen.\nTheir fragrance filled the island and their color was like that of the\ncloud from which Aphrodite had come.\n\nIt was the rose, Venus' own flower, and destined to be always the most\nloved flower of earth.\n\nVenus watched over everything that was beautiful on earth. That is why\nshe was sorry that Pygmalion, the King of Greece, was so hardhearted.\nPygmalion was a sculptor as well as a king, and so skilled with clay and\nmarble that he was able to mould likenesses of the beings of Mount\nOlympus, even. But he closed his heart to men and he felt that there was\nno woman living who was worthy to share his kingdom.\n\nOne spring Pygmalion decided to make a statue of ivory, and when it was\nfinished it was so exquisite that there had never before been seen such\nbeauty save that of Venus. Pygmalion was proud of his work and as he\nadmired it Venus put a better feeling into his heart. Pygmalion laid his\nhand upon his statue to see if it were living or not. He began to wish\nthat it was not ivory, and he named it Galatea.\n\nPygmalion gave Galatea the presents that a young girl of Greece loved,\nbright shells and polished stones, birds in golden cages, flowers of\nmany colors, beads, and amber. He dressed her in silk and put jewels on\nher fingers and a necklace about her neck. She wore ear rings and many\nstrings of pearls. When he had done all this Venus rewarded him.\nPygmalion, returning to his home one day, touched his statue and the\nivory felt soft and yielded to his fingers as if it had been wax. Its\npallor changed to the color of life, and Galatea opened her eyes and\nsmiled at Pygmalion.\n\nAfter that all Cyprus was changed for this king who had been selfish and\nhardhearted. He was able to hear the silvery song of his fountain that\nhe had never noticed before. He began to love the forests, and flowers,\nand people, for Venus had given him Galatea to share his kingdom.\n\nVenus and Vulcan began to spend about as much time with the gods as they\ndid on the earth, for Mount Olympus was their real home. Venus carried\nher roses there to deck her hand-maidens, the Graces, who presided over\nthe banquets, the dances, and the arts of the gods. She was watchful of\nmortals, though, for she knew that they would always have need of her.\n\n\n\n\nWHERE THE LABYRINTH LED\n\n\nDaedalous stood in the shadows at the entrance of the Labyrinth and\nwatched one of the heroes enter the dark passageway. It was a strange,\nsecret edifice that Daedalous, an artist of the gods, had built with his\nmighty skill. Numberless winding passageways and turnings opened one\ninto the other in a confusing maze that seemed to have no beginning or\nend. There was a river in Greece, the Maeander, that had never been\ntraced to its source, for it flowed forward and backward, always\nreturning and Daedalous had planned the Labyrinth like the course of the\nriver Maeander.\n\nThere was hardly anything that Daedalous was not able to do with his\nhands, for he had been given great gifts by the gods. But he liked\ntrickery more than honesty and had spent years and used his clever brain\nin inventing this maze.\n\nAs he peered into the dark alleys of the Labyrinth he saw the hero\ndisappear. He would never return, Daedalous knew, for no one yet had\never been able to retrace his steps through its turnings. Like many\nsecret things, the Labyrinth caught and destroyed even the brave.\n\nIt was a pity that anything so dreadful should have happened on such a\nday as that. The olive trees of Crete were in full leaf, and Daedalous\ncould hear a nightingale singing in the forest nearby. He was deaf to\nthe music of birds, though, for he was listening for another sound. It\nwas May of the year, and the day when Athens sent a tribute of seven of\nthe strongest lads and seven of the fairest daughters of Greece to be\ndriven into the the Labyrinth, a tribute to King Minos of Crete. The\nMinotaur, a raging beast half man and half bull, waited in its secret\npassageways to devour them. Daedalous had built the Labyrinth and\nconfined the Minotaur in it to commend himself to King Minos. The sound\nhe listened for was the crying of these youths and maidens on their way\nto the sacrifice.\n\nThe road was strangely quiet, although Daedalous could see the white\ngarments of the children as they made their way toward him through the\naisles of flowering trees. Their eyes were bright with courage, and a\nyouth who was taller and older than the others led them. Daedalous\ntrembled and hid behind a bank of moss as he saw him.\n\nAll Greece was beginning to talk of this youth, Theseus, the son of the\nKing of Athens. He had but lately come to Athens, having lived with his\ngrandfather at Troezen, and had astounded the populace with his prowess.\nThe boys in the streets had ridiculed him a bit at first because of the\nlong Ionian garment that he wore and his long hair. They called him a\ngirl and told him that he should not be out alone in public. Hearing\nthis ridicule, Theseus had unyoked a loaded wagon that stood near by and\nhad thrown it lightly up into the air to the marvel of all who saw him.\nNext, Theseus had overpowered some fifty giants who hoped to overthrow\nthe government of Athens and set up their own rule of pillage and terror\nin the city. Then Theseus had, by his extraordinary strength, captured a\nfurious bull that was destroying the fields of grain outside the city,\nand had brought it captive into Athens.\n\nDaedalous did not know, however, of this last adventure which Theseus\nhad taken upon himself.\n\nThe Athenians were in deep affliction when he had come to the court of\nAthens, for it was the time of the year when its sons and daughters must\nbe sent for the annual offering to King Minos. Theseus resolved to try\nand save his countrymen from this too great sacrifice and had offered\nhimself as one of the victims to leave for Crete. His father, King\nAegeus, was loath to have him go. He was growing old, and Theseus was\nhis hope for the throne of Athens. But the day of the tribute came,\nseven girls and six boys were drawn by lot, and they set sail with\nTheseus in a ship that departed under black sails.\n\nWhen they arrived at Crete, the victims were exhibited before King\nMinos, and Theseus saw Ariadne, his daughter, seated at the foot of his\nthrone. Ariadne was so beautiful that we may still see her crown of gems\nin the sky, a starry circle above the constellation of Hercules who\nkneels at her feet. She was also as good as she was beautiful, and a\ngreat pity filled her heart when she saw Theseus and these young people\nof Athens so soon to perish in the Labyrinth. She wanted to save them\nall to be the glory of Athens when they grew up, so she gave Theseus a\nsword for his encounter with the Minotaur and a coil of slender white\nthread.\n\nDaedalous, from his hiding place, saw these and wondered as Theseus\napproached the Labyrinth and fearlessly entered.\n\nAs he followed the crooked, twisting passages, Theseus unwound his white\nskein and left the thread behind him. He went on boldly until he reached\nthe devouring beast in the center of the Labyrinth and slew it easily\nwith Ariadne's keen blade. Then Theseus retraced his steps, following\nthe thread, as he found his way out of the Labyrinth and into the light\nagain. Daedalous was seized with an overpowering fear, for the artifice\nof his work had been discovered. There would be no more sacrifices of\nthe heroes and the children of Greece to the Minotaur. The crooked ways\nof the Labyrinth had been made plain by Theseus' white thread of truth.\n\nKing Minos was most angry of all with Daedalous at this failure of the\nmaze. He imprisoned Daedalous and his son, Icarus, whom Daedalous loved\nmore than anything else in the world, in a high tower in Crete. When\nthey escaped, he set guards along the entire shores of the island and\nhad all ships searched so that the two might not leave by sea. Icarus\nhad great faith in his father and entreated him to find some way by\nwhich they might elude the guards and begin their life anew on some\nother island. So Daedalous forgot his lesson of the Labyrinth and set\nabout making wings for himself and Icarus.\n\nThe wings were as false as the maze had been crooked. Daedalous set the\nboy to gathering all the feathers he could find that the sea birds and\nthe birds of the forest had dropped. Icarus brought his hands full of\nthese; he was very proud of his father and had always longed to be old\nenough to help him in his work. He sat beside his father in the shelter\nof a cedar grove, sorting the larger from the smaller feathers, and\nbringing wax that the bees had left in the hollow trees. Daedalous\nwrought the feathers together with his skilful fingers, beginning with\nthe smallest ones and adding the longer to imitate the sweep of a\nbird's wings. He sewed the large feathers with thread and fastened the\nothers with wax until he had completed two pairs of wings. He fastened\nthem to his own shoulders and to those of Icarus, and they ran to the\nshore, buoyed upwards and feeling the power of birds as they made ready\nfor their flight.\n\nIcarus was as joyous as the nightingale that spreads his wings to carry\nhis song as far as the sky. But Daedalous was again terrified at the\nwork of his hands. He warned the boy:\n\n\"Fly along the middle track, my Icarus,\" he said, \"not high or low. If\nyou fly low, the ocean spray will weight your wings, and the sun may\nhurt you with his fiery dart if you fly too far. Keep near me.\"\n\nThen Daedalous kissed his boy, rose on his wings and flew off beckoning\nfor Icarus to follow. As they soared away from Crete, the ploughmen\nstopped their work and the shepherds forgot their flocks as they watched\nthe strange sight. Daedalous and his son seemed like two gods chasing\nthe air above the blue sea.\n\nTogether they flew by Samos and Delos, on the way to Sicily, a long\ndistance. Then Icarus, exulting in his wings, began to rise and leave\nthe lower course along which his father had been guiding him. He had\nwanted, all his life, to see the city of the gods on Mount Olympus and\nnow his chance had come to reach it. Icarus was sure that his wings were\nstrong enough to carry him as far as he had a desire to fly, because his\nfather whom he had trusted had made them for him.\n\nUp, up toward the heavens Icarus mounted, but the coolness of the waters\nchanged to blazing heat, for Icarus was near the sun. The heat softened\nthe wax that held the feathers together and Icarus' wings came off. He\nstretched his arms wide, but there was nothing to hold him in mid air.\n\n\"Icarus, my Icarus, where are you?\" Daedalous cried, but all he could\nsee was a ripple in the ocean where his son had fallen and the bright,\nscattered plumage floating on the surface.\n\nThat was the real end of the Labyrinth, where the daughters of the sea,\nthe Nereids, took Icarus in their arms and carried him tenderly down\namong their gardens of pearly sea flowers. For Daedalous had to fly on\nalone to Sicily, and although he built a temple to Apollo there and hung\nhis wings in it as an offering to the god he never saw his son again.\n\n\n\n\nHOW PERSEUS CONQUERED THE SEA\n\n\nA heavy storm raged at sea. The billows, as tall and stronger than\nships, rolled from the cave on the coast of Greece where Medusa, the\nGorgon, ruled and directed them. She drove them out in an endless line\nof destruction to crush any frail craft that braved the waters, send the\nsailors to the bottom and leave only broken oars and spars to be washed\nup on the rocks outside her stony dwelling place.\n\nAs the sea arose and the winds shrieked, a ship far out from the land\ncould be seen, riding on the crest of the waves and coming closer to the\nshore. Then its form changed and the fishermen who had dared the weather\nsaw that it was a chest made of carved cedar wood and having hinges of\nchased gold. It would be almost submerged one minute and then it would\nappear again, floating bravely on the surf. At last it was tossed upon\nthe rocks, and the fishermen ran to salvage the treasure that some\nruthless destroyer had cast out for Medusa to capture if she could.\n\nWhen they reached the chest the fishermen saw a young mother inside it\nclasping her baby son closely in her arms. It had held a human treasure\nabandoned to the Gorgon's cruel powers of the sea. They conducted her to\ntheir King, Polydectes, of Seriphus, and she told him her story.\n\n\"I am Danae, the princess of Argos,\" she said, \"but my father, King\nAcrisius, is afraid of the powers that this little son of mine may\ndevelop in manhood. He caused us to be shut up in a frail chest and set\nadrift among the waves. I pray your protection, O King, for my son, who\nis strong and of noble birth, until he is able to dare great deeds and\nreward you for your kindness.\"\n\nNo one could have resisted the pleading of Danae, so lovely and holding\nher baby in her arms. She remained in Seriphus and her son, Perseus,\ngrew to a boy and then to a fearless, daring young hero.\n\nAll this time Medusa was working sorrow on land and sea. She had once\nbeen a beautiful maiden of the coast of Greece, but she had quarreled\nwith Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, and for this act the gods had\nchanged her into a Gorgon. Her long, curling hair was now a mass of\nclustering, venomous serpents that twined about her white shoulders and\ncrawled down to her feet where they twisted themselves around her\nankles. No one could describe the terrible features of Medusa, but\nwhoever looked in her face was turned from a living thing to a creature\nof stone. All around the cave where she lived could be seen the stony\nfigures of animals and men who had chanced to catch a glimpse of her and\nhad been petrified in an instant. Above all, Medusa held the\nruthlessness of the sea in her power. Those captains who had cruel\nhearts abandoned their enemies to the waters and she crushed them with\nher billows.\n\nSo it seemed to Perseus that his first adventure on coming to manhood\nmust be the conquest of Medusa, the snaky haired Gorgon, and the gods\napproved of his decision and met in counsel on Mount Olympus to decide\nhow they should help the young hero.\n\n\"I will lend Perseus my shield for his adventure,\" Minerva, the wisest\ngoddess of them all, said.\n\n\"And I will lend Perseus my winged shoes,\" Mercury, the god of speed,\ndecided, \"to help him hasten on his brave errand.\"\n\nEven Pluto, the king of the dark regions beneath the earth, heard of\nPerseus' determination and sent him his magic helmet by means of which\nany one was able to become invisible.\n\nPerseus was well equipped when he started out. He wore Pluto's helmet\nand Mercury's shoes, and travelled to the lonely cave of the Gorgon\nwithout being seen and as fast as a dart of fire sent by Jupiter.\n\nMedusa paced the halls of her cave endlessly, moaning and crying in her\ndespair, for she was never able to escape those crawling, slimy snakes\nwhich covered her head and body. Perseus waited until she was so weary\nthat she sank down on the stones of the cave and slept. Then, taking\ncare not to look at her hideous face but only following her image that\nwas reflected in his shield, Perseus cut off Medusa's head and carried\nit away in triumph.\n\nThen the people who travelled the sea in ships were saved from her\ncruelty, and her power for evil was changed in Perseus' hands to a\npower for good. Carrying the head of Medusa high, the hero flew in the\nwinged shoes far and wide over land and sea until he came at last to the\nwestern limit of the earth where the sun goes down.\n\nThat was the realm of Atlas, one of the giants who was rich in herds and\nflocks and allowed no one to share his wealth or even enter his estates.\nAtlas' chief pride was his orchard whose fruits were all of gold, hung\non golden branches and folded from sight by golden leaves. Perseus had\nno ambition to take this golden harvest.\n\n\"I stop in your domain only as a guest,\" he explained to the giant, \"I\nam of noble birth, having sprung from the gods, and I have just\naccomplished the brave deed of destroying the terror Medusa wrought on\nthe sea. I ask only rest and food of you.\"\n\nBut Atlas could think of nothing but his greed for his gold apples.\n\n\"Be gone, boaster!\" he cried, \"or I will crush you like a worm beneath\nmy heel. Neither your parentage or your valor shall avail you anything.\"\n\nPerseus did not attempt to meet the force of the giant's greater\nstrength, but he held up the head of the Gorgon full in his face. Then\nthe massive bulk of Atlas was slowly but surely turned to stone. His\niron muscles, his brawny limbs, his huge body and head increased in size\nand petrified until he towered above Perseus, a mighty mountain. His\nbeard and hair became forests, his arm and shoulders cliffs, his head a\nsummit, and his bones rocks. For all the rest of the centuries Atlas was\nto stand there holding the sky with its weight of stars on his\nshoulders.\n\nPerseus continued his flight and he came to the country of the\nEthiopians. The sea was as ruthless here as it had been when Medusa\nruled the billows in her cave on the coast of Greece. As Perseus\napproached the coast he saw a terrible sight.\n\nA sea monster was lashing the waves to fury and coming closer and closer\nto the shore. And a beautiful girl was chained to the rocks, waiting to\nbe devoured by this dragon. She hung there, so pale and motionless that\nif it had not been for her tears that flowed in a long stream down the\nrocks, and her bright hair that the breezes from the sea blew about her\nlike a cloud, Perseus would have thought her a marble statue carved and\nplaced there on the rocks.\n\nPerseus alighted beside her, startled at her horrible plight, and\nentranced with her beauty.\n\n\"Why are you fastened here in such danger?\" he asked.\n\nThe girl did not speak at first, trying to cover her face, but her hands\nwere also chained. At last she explained to Perseus.\n\n\"I am Andromeda, the princess of Ethiopia,\" she said, \"and I must be a\nsacrifice to the sea because my mother, Queen Cassiopeia, has enraged\nthe sea by comparing her beauty to that of the nymphs. I am offered here\nto appease the deities. Look, the monster comes!\" she ended in a shriek.\n\nAlmost before she had finished speaking, a hissing sound could be heard\non the surface of the water and the sea monster appeared with his head\nabove the surf and cleaving the waves with his broad breast. The shore\nfilled with people who loved Andromeda and shrieked their lamentations\nat the tragedy which was about to take place. The sea monster was in\nrange of a cliff at last and Perseus, with a sudden bound of his winged\nfeet, rose in the air.\n\nHe soared above the waters like an eagle and darted down upon this\ndragon of the sea. He plunged his sword into its shoulder, but the\ncreature was only pricked by the thrust and lashed the sea into such a\nfury that Perseus could scarcely see to attack him. But as he caught\nsight of the dragon through the mist of spray, Perseus pierced it\nbetween its scales, now in the side, then in the flank, and then in the\nhead. At last the monster spurted blood from its nostrils. Perseus\nalighted on a rock beside Andromeda and gave it a death stroke. And the\npeople who had gathered on the shore shouted with joy until the hills\nre-echoed their glad cries.\n\nLike the prince of a fairy tale, Perseus asked for the fair Andromeda as\nhis bride to reward him for this last victory over the sea, and his wish\nwas granted. It seemed as if his tempestuous adventures were going to\nreach a peaceful ending as he took his bride. There was a banquet spread\nfor the wedding feast in the palace of Andromeda's father and all was\njoy and festivity when there came a sound of warlike clamor from\noutside the gates. Phineas, a warrior of Ethiopia, who had loved\nAndromeda, but had not had the courage to rescue her from the terror of\nthe sea, had arrived with his train to take her away from Perseus.\n\n\"You should have claimed her when she was chained to the rock,\" Perseus\nsaid. \"You are a coward to attack us here with so overpowering an army.\"\n\nPhineas made no reply but raised his javelin to hurl it at Perseus. The\nhero had a sudden thought to save him from destruction.\n\n\"Let my friends all depart, or turn away their eyes,\" he said, and he\nheld aloft the hideous snaky head of the Gorgon.\n\nHis enemy's arm that held the javelin stiffened so that he could neither\nthrust it forward nor pull it back. His limbs became rigid, his mouth\nopened but no sound came from it. He and all his followers were turned\nto stone.\n\nSo Perseus was able to claim Andromeda as his bride after all, and they\nboth had a great desire after a while to go to Argos and visit Perseus'\nold grandfather, the king of that country who had been so afraid of a\nbaby that he had sent his grandson drifting across the sea in a chest.\n\n\"I want to show him that he has nothing to fear from me,\" Perseus said.\n\nIt happened that they found the old king in a sad plight. He had been\ndriven from the throne and was a prisoner of state. But Perseus slew the\nusurper and restored his grandfather to his rightful place.\n\nIn time, Perseus took the throne and his reign in Argos was so wise and\nkind that the gods at last made a place for him and beautiful Andromeda\namong the stars. You may see them on any clear night in the\nconstellation of Cassiopeia.\n\n\n\n\nPEGASUS, THE HORSE WHO COULD FLY\n\n\nA very strange thing happened when Perseus so heroically cut off the\nhead of Medusa, the Gorgon. On the spot where the blood dripped into the\nearth from Perseus' sword there arose a slender limbed, wonderful horse\nwith wings on his shoulders. This horse was known as Pegasus, and there\nwas never, before or since, so marvellous a creature.\n\nAt that time, a young hero, Bellerophon by name, made a journey from his\nown country to the court of King Iobates of Lycia. He brought two sealed\nmessages in a kind of letter of introduction from the husband of this\nking's daughter, one of Bellerophon's own countrymen. The first message\nread,\n\n\"The bearer, Bellerophon, is an unconquerable hero. I pray you welcome\nhim with all hospitality.\"\n\nThe second was this,\n\n\"I would advise you to put Bellerophon to death.\"\n\nThe truth of the matter was that the son-in-law of King Iobates was\njealous of Bellerophon and really desired to have him put out of the way\nin order to satisfy his own ambitions.\n\nThe King of Lycia was at heart a friendly person and he was very much\npuzzled to know how to act upon the advice in the letter introducing\nBellerophon. He was still puzzling over the matter when a dreadful\nmonster, known as the Chimaera, descended upon the kingdom. It was a\nbeast far beyond any of mortal kind in terror. It had a goat's rough\nbody and the tail of a dragon. The head was that of a lion with wide\nspreading nostrils which breathed flames and a gaping throat that\nemitted poisonous breath whose touch was death. As the subjects of King\nIobates appealed to him for protection from the Chimaera a sudden\nthought came to him. He decided to send the heroic stranger,\nBellerophon, to meet and conquer the beast.\n\nThe hero had expected a period of rest at the court of Lycia. He had\nlooked forward to a feast that might possibly be given in his honor and\na chance to show his skill in throwing the discus and driving a chariot\nat the court games. But the day after Bellerophon arrived at the palace\nof King Iobates, he was sent out to hunt down and kill the Chimaera.\n\nHe had not the slightest idea where he was to go, and neither had he any\nplan for destroying the creature, but he decided that it would be a good\nplan to spend the night in the temple of Minerva before he met the\ndanger face to face. Minerva was the goddess of wisdom and might give\nhim help in his hopeless adventure.\n\nSo Bellerophon journeyed to Athens, the chosen city of Minerva, and\ntarried for a night in her temple there, so weary that he fell asleep in\nthe midst of his supplications to the goddess. But when he awoke in the\nmorning, he found a golden bridle in his hands, and he heard a voice\ndirecting him to hasten with it to a well outside of the city.\n\n[Illustration: \"Bellerophon took the golden reins firmly in his hand.\"]\n\nPegasus, the winged horse, had been pasturing meanwhile in the meadows\nof the Muses. There were nine of these Muses, all sisters and all\npresiding over the arts of song and of memory. One took care of poets\nand another of those who wrote history. There was a Muse of the dance,\nof comedy, of astronomy, and in fact of whatever made life more worth\nwhile in the sight of the gods. They needed a kind of dream horse like\nPegasus with wings to carry them on his back to Mount Olympus whenever\nthey wanted to return from the earth.\n\nBellerophon had never known of the existence even of Pegasus, but when\nhe reached the well to which the oracle had directed him, there stood\nPegasus, or, rather, this horse of the Muses poised there, for his wings\nbuoyed him so that his hoofs could scarcely remain upon the earth. When\nPegasus saw the golden bridle that the goddess of Wisdom had given\nBellerophon, he came directly up to the hero and stood quietly to be\nharnessed. A dark shadow crossed the sky just then; the dreaded Chimaera\nhovered over Bellerophon's head, its fiery jaws raining sparks down upon\nhim.\n\nBellerophon mounted upon Pegasus and took the golden reins firmly in one\nhand as he brandished his sword in the other. He rose swiftly in the air\nand met the ravening creature in a fierce battle in the clouds. Not for\nan instant did the winged horse falter, and Bellerophon killed the\nChimaera easily. It was a great relief to the people of Lycia, and\nindeed to people of all time. You may have heard of a Chimaera. It means\nnowadays any kind of terror that is not nearly so hard to conquer as it\nseemed in the beginning when people were afraid of it.\n\nThis story ought to end with the hero returning his winged steed to the\nMuses and entering the kingdom of Lycia in great triumph, but something\nvery different happened. Bellerophon decided to keep Pegasus, and he\nrode him so long and so hard that he grew very full of pride and\npresumption in his success. One day Bellerophon made up his mind to\ndrive Pegasus to the gates of the gods in the sky which was too great an\nambition for a mortal who had received no invitation as yet from the\ndwellers on Mount Olympus. Jupiter saw this rider of the skies mounting\nhigher and higher and he became very angry with him. He sent a gadfly\nwhich stung Pegasus and made him throw Bellerophon to the earth. He was\nalways lame and blind after that.\n\nIt really had not been the fault of Pegasus at all. He was only the\nsteed of those who followed dreams, even if he did have wings. When his\nrider fell, Pegasus fell too, and he landed unhurt but a long distance\nfrom his old pastures. He did not know in which direction they lay or\nhow to find the road that led back to his friends, the Muses. Pegasus'\nwings seemed to be of no use to him. He roamed from one end of the\ncountry to the other, driven from one field to the next by the rustics\nwho mistook him for some sort of a dragon because of his wings. He grew\nold and lost his fleetness. It even seemed to him that his wings were\nnothing but a dragging weight and that he would never be able to use\nthem again.\n\nFinally the same thing happened to Pegasus that happens to old horses\nto-day that have enjoyed a wonderful youth as racers. He was sold to a\nfarmer and fastened to a plough.\n\nPegasus was not used to this heavy work of the soil; his strength was\nbetter suited to climbing through the air than plodding along the\nsurface of the earth. He used all the strength he could put forth in\npulling the plough, but his wings dragged and were in the way and his\nmaster beat his aching back with an ox whip. That might have been the\nend of this winged horse, but one day good fortune came to him.\n\nThere was a youth passing by who was beloved of the Muses. He was so\npoor that he had often no other shelter than the woods and hedges\nafforded, or any food save wild fruits and the herbs of the field. But\nthis youth could put the beauties of the earth, its hills and valleys,\nits temples, flowers, and the desires and loves of its people into words\nthat sang together as the notes of a lute sang. He was a young poet.\n\nThe poet felt a great compassion for the horse he saw in the field, bent\nlow under the blows of his clownish master, and with wings dragging and\ntattered.\n\n\"Let me try to drive your horse,\" he begged, crossing the field and\nmounting upon Pegasus' back.\n\nIt was suddenly as if one of the gods were riding Pegasus. He lifted his\nhead high, and his heavy feet left the clods of earth. His wings\nstraightened and spread wide. Carrying the youth, Pegasus arose through\nthe air as the country people gathered from all the neighboring farms to\nwatch the wonder, a winged horse with a flowing golden mane rising and\nthen hidden within the clouds that opened upon Mount Olympus.\n\n\n\n\nHOW MARS LOST A BATTLE\n\n\nTerminus was the god of boundaries, and a kind of picnic was being held\nin his honor one day in the long-ago myth time on the edge of a little\nRoman town.\n\nNo one had ever really seen Terminus but every farmer who owned a few\nacres of land, and the men who governed the cities were quite sure as to\nhow he looked. It was likely that he wore such garb as did Pan, they had\ndecided, and carried instruments for measuring similar to those that a\nsurveyor uses to-day. His chariot was loaded with large stones and\nfinely chiselled posts for marking the limits of a man's farm, or that\nof a town. There were no fences in those days, but the gods had\nappointed Terminus to protect land holders and to safeguard citizens by\nkeeping all boundaries sacred from invasion by an enemy.\n\nNo wonder the Terminalia, as they called this holiday, was a joyous\ntime. All through the neighboring vineyards and fields and on the edge\nof the village stones had been placed to mark the boundaries, and there\nwere stone pillars, also, having carved heads to make them beautiful.\nEveryone who came to the picnic brought an offering for the god\nTerminus, a wreath of bright roses, a garland of green laurel, or a\nbasket of grapes and pomegranates which they placed on one of these\nboundary stones or posts. The law of the gods that prevented invasion\nwas the greatest blessing these people had, for it made them free to\ntill the earth and build homes and keep their hearth fires burning.\n\nSuddenly the merrymaking was interrupted. The children who had been\ngathering wild flowers ran, crying, to their fathers and mothers, for\nthe sky was darkened in an instant as if a hurricane was approaching.\nThe young men who had been playing games and the maidens who had been\ndancing huddled together in frightened groups, for they saw between\nrifts in the clouds the tracks of dark chariot wheels making their swift\nway down to earth from the sky. And the older folk, who knew the meaning\nof the rumblings and dull roar and occasional darts of fire that parted\nthe clouds, shuddered.\n\n\"See who stands in our midst in his black cloak, scattering hoar frost\nthat blights the fields and freezes us!\" they exclaimed. \"It is Dread,\nthe courier of Mars, the god of war, who is approaching in his chariot.\"\n\nThere came dreadful sounds soon that almost drowned the voices of the\npeople, the crashing of swords and shields, and the cries of women and\nlittle children as a chariot plunged through their midst, its wheels\ndripping with blood. It was driven by two other attendants of war, Alarm\nand Terror, the face of one as dark as a thunder cloud, and the other\nwith a countenance as pale as death.\n\n\"What shall we do; we are unarmed and will perish?\" one man cried. And\nanother answered him.\n\n\"Look to yourself and your own safety. Why did you leave your sword at\nhome, and what care is it of mine that you have no means of protecting\nyourself?\"\n\nStrange words for a noble people to speak to one another in a time of\nsuch need, were they not? But it was not the heart or the soul speech\nof these Romans. The two other attendants of war, Fear and Discord in\ntarnished armor, had appeared in their midst and had put these thoughts\ninto the minds of the men.\n\n\"Mars comes!\" they said then, and the air grew dense and suffocating\nwith smoke, only pierced at intervals by fiery arrows. Thunderbolts\nforged by the black, one-eyed Cyclopes in their workshops under the\nvolcanoes fell all about, tearing up the earth and bursting in thousands\nof burning pieces. Through this slaughter and carnage rode the mailed\nMars, one of the gods of war.\n\nHis steeds were hot and bleeding, and his own eyes shone like fire in\nhis dark, cruel face, for Mars had no pity and took pleasure in war for\nthe sake of itself. It was never the purpose but always the battle that\ngave him pleasure. With his attendants he sat on a throne that was\nstained with blood, and the worship that delighted his ears like music\nwas the crash of strife and the cries of those who were sorely wounded.\n\nMars' palace on Mount Olympus was a most terrible place. Fancy a grim\nold stronghold built for strength only, without a chink or a crack for\nletting in Apollo's cheerful sunlight, and never visited by the happy\nMuses or by Orpheus with his sweet toned lute, or by jolly old Momus,\nthe god of laughter. The palace was guarded, night and day, by a huge\nhound and a vulture, both of them the constant visitants of battle\nfields. Mars sat on his throne, waited upon by a company of sad\nprisoners of war, and holding forever the insignia of his office, a\nspear and a flaming torch. Why had he left his abode and descended upon\nthe peaceful merrymaking of the Terminalia?\n\nMars was a very ruthless kind of god. In fact he was so cruel and\nthoughtless that the family of the gods was rather sorry that Jupiter\nhad appointed him to so important a position, and they decided at last\nto have two war-gods. But who the other one was and what happened when\nthis second chariot of war crashed down through the clouds is another\nstory that you shall hear presently. The reason for Mars riding out with\nthose frightful friends of his, Dread, Alarm, Fear, and Discord, was\nthat he had not the slightest respect for Terminus, the god of\nboundaries. He had decided to knock down his stones and shatter his\npillars.\n\nEveryone, from the days of the myths down to the present time, has\nbelieved in a fair fight. It is about the greatest adventure a man can\nhave, that of using all his strength and giving up his life perhaps in a\nbattle to right a wrong or protect a defenseless people. But fancy this\nold fight of Mars when he rode down in the chariot that the gods had\ngiven him upon a people who were without arms and with the purpose of\nviolating their boundaries.\n\nWith a rumble like that of all the thunder storms in the world rolled\ninto one and a crashing like the sound of a thousand spears, Mars\ntouched the earth and rode across Terminus' carefully laid out boundary\nlines and destroyed them. The wheels of his chariot ground the stones\nTerminus had so honestly placed to powder, and the beautifully carved\npillars were shattered, and the pieces buried in the dust. The shouts of\nMars and his followers drowned all the peaceful melody of earth, the\nsinging of birds, the laughter of the children, and the pleasant sounds\nof spinning and mowing and grinding.\n\nIt was indeed a most dreadful invasion and for a while it seemed as if\nit was going to end in nothing but destruction of the people and the\nindustry on the earth which the gods loved and had helped. But in an\ninstant something happened.\n\nThere was a roar as if wild beasts of the forests for miles around had\nbeen captured, and the earth trembled as it did when the giants were\nthrown out of the home of the gods, for Mars had fallen and was crying\nabout it. He had thought himself invulnerable, but whether an arrow from\nsome unseen hero had hit him or whether his steeds had stumbled over one\nof Terminus' boundary posts, the invincible Mars lay prostrate on the\nfield he had himself invaded, and before he could pick himself up,\nsomething else happened.\n\nIt was really rather amusing, for Mars was not hurt. He was only taught\na much needed lesson.\n\nJust beyond the lines of Terminus which Mars had violated there lived\ntwo giant planters, Otus and Ephialtes, whose father had been a planter\nalso and his father before him. They had been much too busy to attend\nthe Terminalia picnic. In fact they almost never took a holiday, but\ntoiled from sunrise to sunset on their farm which supplied the nearby\nmarket with fruits and bread stuffs. Otus and Ephialtes were very much\nsurprised to hear the thundering crash that Mars made when he tumbled\ndown; and they dropped their tools and ran to see what was the matter.\n\nIt is said that the fallen Mars covered seven acres of ground, but the\ntwo giants started at once picking him up and he began to shrink then\nlike a rubber balloon when the air leaks out of it.\n\n\"What shall we do with this troublemaker?\" Otus asked his brother.\n\n\"We must put him where he will not interfere with our work or the other\nwork of the earth for a while at least,\" Ephialtes said as they tugged\nMars, still roaring, home.\n\n\"That's a good idea,\" Otus agreed. \"We will shut him up.\"\n\nAnd so they crammed the troublesome Mars into a great bronze vase and\ntook turns sitting on the cover so that he was not able, by any chance,\nto get out for thirteen months. That gave everyone an opportunity to\nplant and gather another harvest, and to place Terminus' boundary stones\nagain.\n\nThese giant planters would have liked to keep this god of war bottled up\nin the vase for all the rest of time, but he was one of the family of\nthe Olympians and so this was not possible. In time he was allowed to\ndrive home and both the Greek and the Roman people tried to make the\nbest of him, not as a protecting deity, but as the god of strength and\nbrawn.\n\nThe Greeks named a hill for him near Athens, and here was held a court\nof justice for the right decision of cases involving life and death.\nThat put Mars to work in a very different way. And the Romans gave him a\ngreat field for military manoeuvres and martial games. We would call it\na training camp to-day. There, in Mars Field, chariot races were held\ntwice a year and there were competitions in riding, in discus and spear\nthrowing, and in shooting arrows at a mark. Once in five years the\nable-bodied young men of Rome came to Mars Field to enlist for the army,\nand no Roman general started out to war without first swinging a sacred\nshield and spear which hung there and saying,\n\n\"Watch over me, O Mars.\" For Mars could put muscle into a man's arm, and\nthe heroes themselves were learning to choose the good fight.\n\n\n\n\nHOW MINERVA BUILT A CITY\n\n\nThe sea that broke in surf on the shore of Attica became suddenly as\nsmooth as a floor of crystal. Over it, as if he had leaped from the\ncaverns of rock in its depths, dashed Neptune, the god of the sea, his\ntrident held high, his horses' golden manes flowing in the wind, and\ntheir bronze hoofs scarcely touching the water as they galloped toward\nthe shore.\n\nAt the same moment a war-like goddess appeared on the edge of the land.\nShe was as tall and straight and strong as Mars, but her armor shone\nlike gold while his was often tarnished. She held the storm shield of\nher father, Jupiter and carried a dart of lightning for her spear.\nMinerva, the other god of war, she was, as fearful and powerful as a\nstorm, but also as gentle and peaceful as the warmth of the sky when it\nshines down on the fields when the storm is over.\n\n\"Why have Neptune and Minerva met?\" the fishermen and sailors who\ncrowded the beach asked.\n\n\"They have come together for a contest to see which shall have the\nhonor of building a City,\" some of the wise men told them, and then\nthese Greeks drew aside and waited to see what would happen, for with\nthem was to rest the judgment in the matter.\n\nNeptune drove his chariot up onto the land, dismounted, and blew a\nmighty blast on his trumpet to call the nymphs of the waters and the\nspirits of the winds to his aid. Then he ascended to a barren rock that\nlifted its head above the surrounding hills, bleak and without a single\nblade of grass to soften it. The Greeks watched Neptune breathlessly as\nhe stood on its top, a mighty figure in his cloak of dripping seaweed\nand the white of sea salt in his flowing, dark green hair. He raised his\ntrident, struck the rocks with it, and the age-old stone cracked in a\ndeep fissure. Out of the crack in the rock burst a spring of water where\nthere had been not a drop through all the centuries before.\n\n\"Neptune wins! None of the gods can excel this feat of bringing water\nout of bare rock,\" the cry went up from the people.\n\nBut Minerva ascended now to this rock of the Acropolis and took her\nplace beside Neptune. She, also, touched the barren stone with her spear\nthat was forged and tempered by the gods. And as she did so, a marvel\nresulted to her honor as well.\n\nThe green shoot of a tree suddenly appeared, pushing its way up through\nthe hard stone. The shoot grew tall and broadened to form a trunk and\nbranches, and then covered itself with gray-green leaves that made a\npleasant shade from the brilliancy of the sun. Last, this wonder tree\nwas hung on every branch with a strange new fruit, green balls of\ndelicious flavor and full of oil that was healthful and healing and\nneeded by the whole world.\n\nThe Greeks broke their ranks and gathered about the tree to taste and\nenjoy the fruit.\n\n\"Minerva wins!\" they shouted. \"Neptune's spring here in the Acropolis is\nlike the sea, brackish in flavor, but Minerva has given Greece the olive\ntree.\"\n\nThat is just what had happened. Minerva had given the people something\nthat they really needed, and the fair city of Athens was raised and\nawarded to this goddess of war as the prize of her kindness to the\npeople.\n\nBut Neptune proved himself a very poor loser. He was a blustering,\nboastful old god, used from the days of his father Oceanus, when the\nwaters were first separated from the land, to having his own way. He had\nwanted to own Athens himself, to be able to go and come in it whenever\nhe liked, and it was particularly humiliating that he must give it up to\na goddess. Neptune stormed down to the shore, blew another blast on his\ntrumpet, and called all the deities of the sea and of tempests to come\nto his aid and destroy the city.\n\nWhat an army they made as they obeyed his summons!\n\nTriton, a son of Neptune, led the hosts and sounded the horn of battle\nas they approached the land, and all around him flew the Harpies, those\nbirds as large as men with crooked claws and a hunger for human flesh.\nThere were sea serpents that could crush a man with a single coil, and\nBoreas, the North Wind, drove the regiment of the high tides up on the\ncoast. With these powers of the sea came a mighty rushing of water, and\nit seemed as if neither Athens or its people would be able to survive\nthis arising of the sea.\n\nBut Minerva, the goddess of righteous, defensive war was there and on\nthe side of the Greeks. She presided over battles, but only to lead on\nto victory and through victory to peace and prosperity. Few could\nwithstand the straight glance of Minerva's eyes, valiant, conquering and\nterrifying, or the sight of her gloriously emblazoned shield. As the\npowers of Neptune advanced, Minerva raised her shield, and the tides\nrested and the waters receded. Then she drove the forces of Neptune back\nat the point of her spear, and Athens was saved.\n\nYou will remember that the gods were very much like men in wanting\nparticular kinds of gifts which would be their very own, and which they\ncould treasure. Jupiter had a special fondness for thunderbolts and kept\npiles of them behind his throne. Apollo treasured his lyre, and Mercury\nhis shoes and his cap. Venus never travelled without a jewelled girdle\nwhich she thought added to her beauty, but Minerva had always wanted a\ncity. Now her wish had come true, for she had a very large and beautiful\none, the fair Athens.\n\nPeople began coming to Athens from all parts of Greece and from\nneighboring countries as well, because Minerva spent so much time there\ntending and spreading the olive orchards, and keeping the city free from\ninvasion. Neptune had left a horse near the hill of the Acropolis when\nhe had to retreat, and Minerva invented a harness for it and broke it to\nthe bit and bridle with her own hands in the market square of Athens.\nHaving horses for ploughing and carrying loads of lumber and stone and\ngrain helped the prosperity of Athens and brought it wealth. And when\nthe people were at peace, Minerva laid aside her armor and crossed the\nthresholds of the houses, teaching the women to spin, and weave, and\nextract the precious oil from her olives.\n\nEveryone was growing very prosperous and very rich. It seemed that the\nolive tree had brought all this wealth, for it had spread throughout\nAttica and plenty followed wherever it bore fruit.\n\nNot far from Athens lay the kingdom of the Persians who were invincible\nin battle, having devoted themselves for many years to the arts of\nwarfare. Through their interest in their own affairs the Athenians\nforgot about their warlike neighbors, until one fateful day when a\nrunner breathlessly told them that the hosts of the Persian army waited\nat the boundaries of their cities.\n\nSuch confusion and terror as ensued! The Athenians were not ready for\nwar. They consulted an oracle as to how to meet the Persian host and the\noracle replied,\n\n\"Trust to your citadel of wood!\"\n\nThe wise men of Athens quite misunderstood this advice and went busily\nto work erecting wooden fortifications around the hill of the Acropolis\nwhere Minerva's first olive tree stood as if it were guarding their\nprosperity. The oracle had meant for the Athenians to trust to their\nfleet and try to prevent the Persian army from entering along the coast,\nand by the time the wooden wall was built, the Persians had begun to\nfire Athens.\n\nMinerva, with her flaming spear raised and her eyes filled with tears,\nwent to her father, Jupiter, to beg for the safety of her city. She\nkneeled at the foot of his throne to make her plea, and it must have\nbeen hard indeed for Jupiter to refuse his favorite daughter as he\nlooked down at Minerva, prostrate before him in her shining suit of\nmail. But the king of the gods told Minerva something about her city\nwhich even he was powerless to change.\n\n\"Athens, in her prosperity, has forgotten the gods,\" Jupiter said. \"She\nlives and works for herself and not for others. She must perish in order\nthat a better and nobler city may rise from her ruins.\"\n\nSo Minerva was obliged to watch from the clouds as fire and sword\nconsumed Athens and the smoke of the flaming city rose like incense to\nthe seats of the gods. When there seemed to be nothing left except the\nstones which had been the foundation of Athens' beauty, and those of her\nheroes who had not perished had been obliged to take to the sea, Minerva\ndescended to her hill, the Acropolis. She wanted to see if the roots, at\nleast, of her olive tree had been spared, and she found a wonder.\n\nAs a sign that she had not forsaken Athens, even in ruins, Jupiter had\nallowed the roots of her tree to remain, and from them there sprang a\nnew green shoot. With wonderful quickness it grew to a height of three\nyards in the barren waste that was all the Persians had left, a sign\nthat Athens was not dead, but would live and arise a new, fairer city.\n\nMinerva held her bright shield above her golden helmet and hastened to\nthe sea coast, calling together the heroes to man the ships and set sail\nagainst the fleet of the enemy. The Persian fleet greatly outnumbered\nthat of the Greeks, but at last it was driven off with terrible rout and\nthose of the Persians who were left on land were destroyed. The war was\nwon for the Greeks through Minerva's help, but Jupiter's prophecy had\nbeen fulfilled. The old Athens was gone, and it was necessary to build a\nnew city.\n\nThat was just the kind of undertaking that Minerva liked, to win a\ndefensive war and then build so as to destroy all traces of it. She and\nthe Greeks, with the help of all the other gods, went to work to make\nAthens such a city as had not been dreamed of before.\n\nCeres, the goddess of agriculture, restored the waste fields and\norchards so that the olive grew again and plenty came once more. Minerva\nbusied herself encouraging the women to do more beautiful handwork than\nbefore the war, and she taught them how to feed and tend little children\nso that they might grow up strong and well and be the glory of Greece.\nLarge numbers of horses were trained and harnessed to war chariots.\nApollo sent sunshine and music to the city, and the builders erected\nbeautiful marble temples and statues and pillars and fountains.\n\nThe Athenians began doing things together, which always helps to make a\ncity great and strong. There were parades of the soldiers and the\nathletes on the holidays, and public games and banquets and drills were\nheld. The best holiday of all was Minerva's own. First, there was a\nprocession in which a new robe for the goddess, woven and embroidered by\nthe most skilful women and girls of Athens, was carried through the city\non a wagon built in the form of a ship, the robe spread like a sail on\nthe front. It was like a great float in a parade. All Athens followed\nthe wagon, the young of the nobility on horseback or in chariots, the\nsoldiers fully armed, and the trades people and farmers with their wives\nand daughters in their best clothes. The new robe was intended for the\nstatue of Minerva that stood in the Parthenon in Athens. They named her\nPallas Athene at last, the guardian of their beloved city.\n\nThen came games in which the athletes took part, and the most sought for\nprize was a large earthenware vase on one side of which there was\npainted a figure of Minerva striding forward as if she was hurling her\nspear, and having a column on each side of her to indicate a\nrace-course. On the other side of the vase was a picture of the game in\nwhich it was won, and it was filled to brimming with pure olive oil from\nMinerva's tree. For the Greeks had learned that war is sometimes\nnecessary, but Minerva would heal their wounds with the oil of her\nsacred tree and the new Athens was to be known always as one of the most\nperfect cities of the ages.\n\n\n\n\nCADMUS, THE ALPHABET KING\n\n\nThere are many ways of building a city, and this is how Cadmus, in the\ndays of the myths, built Thebes, the beautiful.\n\nCadmus was but a youth when he began his wanderings which took him from\nshore to shore of the earth, for he was descended from Neptune, the god\nof the sea, and had been born with the spirit of the restless tides in\nhis heart. But Cadmus had a longing to search out and make for himself a\nhome on land where he could gather the heroes about him and make temples\nand a market place and set up fair statues.\n\nSo he consulted the oracle of Apollo to know what country he should\nsettle in, and a voice issued from that strange, deep cleft in the rock\nat Delphi saying that he would find a cow in a field, and should pursue\nher wherever she wandered. Where she stopped Cadmus also should stop and\nbuild a city which he was to call Thebes.\n\nAs soon as Cadmus left the cave of the oracle, he was surprised to see\na white cow wearing a garland of flowers about her neck and cropping in\nthe grass nearby. She raised her head when Cadmus appeared, and walked\nslowly before him. So he followed her, and she went on until she came to\na wide plain in the fertile land of Egypt. Here she stood still and\nlifted her broad forehead to the sky, filling the air with her lowings.\n\nCadmus stooped down and lifted a handful of the foreign soil to his\nlips, kissing it, and looking with delight at the beauties of the blue\nhills which surrounded this spot to which Apollo had guided him. He felt\nthat he ought to offer his thanks to Jupiter, and so he went to a nearby\nfountain to draw some pure water to bathe his hands before he lifted\nthem up to the sky.\n\nThe fountain spouted, as clear as crystal, from a cave covered with a\nthick growth of bushes and situated in an ancient grove that had never\nbeen profaned by an axe. Cadmus pushed his way into it, and when he was\ninside the cave it seemed as if he had left the world behind, so dark\nwas it, with the shadows of the boughs and thick leaves.\n\nCadmus dipped a vase which his servants had brought him in the waters\nof the fountain, and was about to raise it, brimming full, when it\nsuddenly dropped from his hands, the blood left his cheeks, and his\nlimbs trembled. A venomous serpent whose eyes shone like fire and who\nshowed triple fangs and triple teeth raised its head from the waters\nwith a terrible hiss. Its crested head and scales glittered like\nburnished bronze; it twisted its body in a huge coil and then raised\nitself, ready to strike, to a height that over-topped the trees of the\ngrove. And while Cadmus' servants stood still, unable to move for their\nfright, the serpent killed them all, some with its poisonous fangs, some\nwith its foaming breath, and others in its choking folds.\n\nThere was only Cadmus left, and at last he crept out of the cave,\nscreening his body behind the bushes, and made ready to take his stand\nagainst the serpent. He covered himself from head to foot with a lion's\nskin. In one hand he carried a javelin and in the other a lance, but in\nhis heart Cadmus carried courage which was a stronger weapon than either\nof these. Then he faced the serpent, standing in the midst of his\nfallen men and looking into its bloody jaws as he lifted a huge stone\nand threw it straight. It struck the serpent's scales and penetrated to\nits heart. The creature's neck swelled with rage, the panting breath\nthat issued from its nostrils poisoned the air. Then it twisted itself\nin a circle and fell to the ground where it lay like the shattered trunk\nof a tree. Cadmus, watching for his chance, went boldly up to the\nmonster and thrust his spear into its head, fastening it to the tree\nbeneath which it had fallen. The serpent's weight bent and twisted the\ntree as it struggled to free itself, but at last Cadmus saw it give up\nthe fight and hang there, quiet in death.\n\nThen a marvellous thing happened. As Cadmus stood, looking at his fallen\nfoe, a voice came to him which he could hear distinctly, although he was\nnot able to know from whence it came, and it said,\n\n\"It is decreed, O Cadmus, that you shall take out the teeth of this\ndragon and plant them in the plain upon which you are to found the city\nof Thebes.\"\n\nSo Cadmus obeyed the command. He pulled out the serpent's triple row of\nsharply pointed teeth. He made a furrow and planted them in it, and\nscarcely had he covered them with earth than the clods raised\nthemselves. As happened in the days when Jason had traveled all the long\nway in search of the fleece of gold, the ground where the dragon's teeth\nhad taken root was pierced by the metal points of helmets and spears.\nAfter these sprouting signs of war came the heads and breasts of an army\nof warriors until the entire plain was bright with their shields and the\nair smoked and resounded with the din of fearful fighting.\n\nCadmus was only one against the terrible ranks of all these earth-born\nbrothers of his, but he made ready to do his best and encounter this new\nenemy. As he advanced, however, he heard the unknown voice again,\n\n\"Meddle not with civil war, Cadmus,\" it said.\n\nBut Cadmus' spirit was fired with his high desire to build a city which\nwould be a place of peace and industry, and he knew that civil strife\nwas the destruction of such a city. So he entered the battle, single\nhanded, and smote one of these, his fighting brothers, with a sword,\nbut fell, pierced in his side by an arrow. He was up and advancing again\nas soon as he staunched the flow of blood, killing four of the warriors.\nIn the meantime the warriors seemed to become mad with the spirit of\nwarfare and killed each other until the whole crowd was pitted against\none another. At last all of the warriors fell, mortally wounded, except\nfive. These five survivors threw aside their weapons and cried, as with\none voice,\n\n\"Brothers, let us live in peace.\"\n\nAnd they joined with Cadmus in laying the foundations of a great city\nwhich they called Thebes.\n\nThey measured and laid out roads, making them hard and strong for the\nwheels of heavy chariots which would bear kings to and from the city.\nThey built houses whose decorations of carvings and precious metals were\nnot to be equalled in all Greece, and they filled them with rare\nfurnishings, and they painted pictures of the contests of the gods on\nthe walls, and shaped golden plates and cups for the tables. They set up\na strong citadel at the boundary line of the city to protect it from\ninvasion, and Cadmus built factories for making tools and furniture and\nhousehold utensils so as to draw traders to the city and increase its\nprosperity through commerce. And there were seven gates to Thebes, in\nhonor of the seven strings of Apollo's lyre from which he drew the sweet\nstrains that brought harmony to the earth.\n\nWhen Thebes was finished, it seemed as if it had no rival among the\ncities of the earth, it was so good to look upon, so full of industry,\nand peace, and plenty. But Cadmus had yet one gift more to make to\nThebes.\n\nFor a long time he worked secretly, carving with a sharp pointed tool\nupon a stone tablet. One day he brought forth the result of his work.\nCadmus had invented the alphabet; he had given the power of learning\nthrough reading and writing to his people.\n\nThat made his city complete, for a people who are through with civil\nstrife, and able to work and be educated can be as great as the gods if\nthey will it so.\n\nThey became great and they made Cadmus the king of Thebes for a rule\nthat was long and just and good.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PICTURE MINERVA WOVE\n\n\nArachne, the wonderful girl weaver of Greece, took a roll of white wool\nin her skilled hands and separated it into long white strands. Then she\ncarded it until it was as soft and light as a cloud. She was at work out\nof doors in a green forest and her loom was set up under an old oak tree\nwith the sunlight shining down between the leaves to brighten the\npattern that she set up on it. In and out her shuttle flew without\nstopping until she had woven at last a fair piece of fabric.\n\nThen Arachne threaded a needle with wool dyed in rainbow colors. She had\nall the colors of this long arch, that the sunbeams shining through\nraindrops make, to use in her work.\n\n\"What design will the clever Arachne embroider on her tapestry to-day?\"\none of the Nymphs of the forest who had clustered about her to watch her\nwork asked. Then all the Nymphs, looking like a part of the forest in\ntheir soft green garments, crowded close as Arachne began to embroider\na picture. The grass seemed to grow in it beneath her needle, and the\nflowers bloomed just as they always bloom in the spring.\n\n[Illustration: \"What design will Arachne embroider to-day?\" asked one of\nthe nymphs.]\n\n\"You weave and sew as if the great Minerva herself had taught you her\narts,\" a Nymph said timidly to Arachne.\n\nThe girl's face flushed with anger. It was true that the goddess Minerva\nwho presided over the arts that women need to know, spinning, weaving\nand needlework, had taught Arachne her skill, but the girl was vain and\nalways denied it.\n\n\"My skill is my own,\" she replied. \"Let Minerva try to compete with me\nand if she is able to finish a rarer piece of work than mine, I am\nwilling to pay any penalty.\"\n\nIt was a thoughtless, daring boast which Arachne had made. As she spoke\nthe leaves of the trees fluttered, for the Nymphs, frightened at a\nmortal's presumption, were moving away from Arachne. She looked up and\nin their place saw an old dame standing beside her.\n\n\"Challenge your fellow mortals, my child,\" she said, \"but do not try to\ncompete with a goddess. You ought to ask Minerva's forgiveness for your\nrash words.\"\n\nArachne tossed her head in disdain.\n\n\"Keep your counsel,\" she replied, \"for your hand-maidens. I know what I\nsay and I mean it. I am not afraid of the goddess. I repeat it; let\nMinerva try her skill with mine if she dare venture.\"\n\n\"She comes!\" said the old dame, dropping her disguise and appearing\nbefore Arachne in the shining silver mail of the goddess Minerva.\n\nArachne grew pale with fear at first, but her presumption overcame her\nfear. Her heart was full of her foolish conceit and she set a new piece\nof work on her loom as Minerva produced a second loom, and the contest\nbegan. They attached the web to the beam and began tossing their slender\nshuttles in and out of the threads. They pushed the woof up into place\nwith their fine reeds until the fabric was compact. Then the needlework\nwas begun.\n\nArachne, though, had decided to work something that was forbidden by the\ngods. She was going to use her skill of hand and all her art for evil\ninstead of good.\n\nShe began embroidering a picture that would be displeasing to the gods,\nand she was able to make it seem as if it were alive, because of the\nfigures and scenes she could outline with her needle and fill in with\nher colored wools. The picture Arachne embroidered was that of the fair\nPrincess Europa tending her father's herds of cattle beside the sea. One\nof the bulls seemed so tame that Europa mounted his back, and he plunged\ninto the sea with her and carried her far away from her native shores to\nGreece. Arachne pictured this bull as the great god Jupiter.\n\nMinerva's embroidery was of a very different pattern from this. She was\nthe goddess of wisdom and her gift from Mount Olympus to the earth had\nbeen the beautiful olive tree that gave mortals shade, and fruit, and\noil, and wood for their building. Minerva stitched the pattern of a\ngreen olive tree on the tapestry she was embroidering.\n\nAmong the leaves of the olive tree Minerva embroidered a butterfly. It\nseemed to live and flutter in and out among the olives. One could almost\ntouch the velvet nap that lay on its wings and the silk down which\ncovered its back; there were its broad, outstretched horns, its\ngleaming eyes, its glorious colors. Minerva's workmanship was more\nwonderful than Arachne could ever hope to learn. As they finished she\nknew that she was outdone.\n\nMinerva looked at Arachne's tapestry, woven of pride and a desire for\nvain conquest. It could not be allowed to stand beside hers that showed\nthe gift of life to man in the olives and such beauty as that of the\nbutterfly. The goddess struck Arachne's tapestry with her shuttle and\ntore it in pieces.\n\nArachne was suddenly filled with an understanding of how she had wasted\nher skill, and she longed to get away from all sight and sound of her\nweaving. A vine trailed down to the ground from a near by tree. Arachne\ntwisted it about her body and tried to pull herself up by it to the\ntree, but Minerva would not allow this. She touched Arachne's form with\nthe juices of aconite and at once her hair came off, and her nose and\nher ears as well. Her body shrank and shrivelled and her head grew\nsmaller. Her fingers fastened themselves to her side and served for\nlegs. She hung from the vine which changed to a long gray thread.\n\nArachne, the skilful weaver of Greece, was changed to Arachne, the\nspider of the forest. Through all the centuries since then she has been\nspinning her fragile threads and weaving her frail webs that a breath of\nwind, even, can destroy.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HERO WITH A FAIRY GODMOTHER\n\n\nThe prince who was the hero of one of your favorite once-upon-a-time\nstories was quite sure to have had a fairy godmother to watch over his\nways and help in bringing his adventures to success. But Hercules, the\nGreat, of old Greece than whom we have never known a greater hero, had\ntwo fairy godmothers. They were not known by exactly that name in the\ndays when the myths were made, but there were two very powerful\ngoddesses who presided over Hercules' destiny, and the odd thing about\nit was that no one knew which of these was the more important.\n\nHercules began life just like any other baby except that his father was\nthe mighty Jupiter, a fact which made everyone expect a great deal of\nhim. And just as used to happen in your old fairy tales, he had enemies\nbecause of his noble birth. One of these was the goddess, Juno.\n\nHercules lay in his cradle one day before he was able to walk even, and\nhe suddenly saw something that would have frightened anyone much older\nthan he. On each side of his cradle there appeared the green, hissing\nhead of a huge serpent, their poisonous fangs thrust out to sting this\nchild of the gods to death. Hercules' attendants ran away in terror not\ndaring to give fight to the vipers, but he reached out his tiny hands,\ngripped a serpent in each by its throat and strangled them.\n\nPeople began to look at Hercules in wonder after that. They watched him\ngrow up, just like any other boy except that his limbs were stronger and\nhis muscles harder than those of the average boy of Greece. There were\nstill those who admired him and those who hated him, knowing that he\nwas, really, the son of a god. So his enemies put Hercules in charge of\na kind of tutor named Eurystheus who was under orders to give him the\nmost impossible tasks to try and perform.\n\n\"The lad will fail and then we shall be well rid of him,\" the goddess\nJuno, who particularly disliked Hercules, said.\n\nHercules began life in a part of Greece that was known as the valley of\nNemea. It was a place of olive orchards and fruit trees and fields of\ngrain, but the terror of the place was the Nemean lion who lived close\nby in the fastness of the hills. There had never been known so huge a\nlion, with such wide, blood thirsty jaws. Eurystheus ordered Hercules to\nbring him the tawny hide of this monster.\n\n\"How shall I slay the Nemean lion?\" Hercules asked.\n\n\"With your arrows and your club,\" Eurystheus replied carelessly, but he\nknew that no arrows in all Greece could pierce the lion's skin and that\nHercules' club, made of a stout young tree, would also be powerless\nagainst the beast.\n\n\"Hercules will never return,\" the people of the valley said to each\nother as they watched the young hero start out boldly toward the hills.\n\nBut he returned the next day, as fresh and untroubled as when he had\nstarted, with the hide of the Nemean lion slung over his shoulder.\n\n\"Are yours magic arrows, and is your club charmed as well?\" the youths\nwho were Hercules' friends asked, crowding around him.\n\n\"I killed the lion with my hands alone, grasping him about his throat,\"\nHercules explained to them.\n\nEurystheus, listening on the edge of the crowd, frowned at these words.\n\"I must plan a greater labor for him,\" he thought.\n\nThere was a rich and beautiful city of Greece named Argos, but a fearful\nmonster called the Hydra infested a swamp just outside it and one never\nknew when it would descend upon the well that supplied the people with\npure water. It had nine heads and one of these was immortal, so the\nrumor went.\n\n\"Go to Argos and kill the Hydra,\" Eurystheus commanded Hercules.\n\nHercules was ready to dare this adventure. He started out again with no\nother arms than he had carried before and when he came to the well of\nArgos which kept the country from drought, he found the Hydra stationed\nthere. Going up to it, Hercules struck off one of its heads with his\nclub. What was his surprise to see two heads grow in the place of this\none! It was going to be a task to destroy this creature, Hercules\nunderstood, as he laid on with his club against the menacing and\nincreasing heads, hitting right and left and with no time between his\ntelling blows. He struck off all of the Hydra's heads at last except the\nundying one. Finally Hercules thought of a plan for destroying this. He\nwrenched it off with his mighty hands and buried it deeply underneath a\nrock.\n\n\"Hercules shall be put to a task he will not like so well as\nencountering wild beasts,\" Eurystheus decided then. \"He shall clean the\nAugean stables. We will see if a son of the gods has the will to\naccomplish that labor.\"\n\nThis was indeed a labor with very little of the spirit of adventure in\nit. Old King Augeus, of Elis in Greece had a herd of three thousand\ncattle and their stalls in his many stables had not been cleaned for\nthirty years. The cattle, all of them of blooded stock, were dying off\nbecause they were not properly cared for, and there was no hero of the\nking's train but felt the work of cleaning the stables to be too menial\nfor him.\n\nHercules had no such thought as this, however. He was ready to attempt\nthe labor; his only idea was how to accomplish it, and thoroughly. At\nlast he had a very novel idea.\n\nThere were scarcely any of the lesser gods of outdoors who had not, by\nthis time, felt the strength of Hercules. There had been the river god\nwho took delight in leading the waters of the streams over their banks\nand inundating the farms in the spring when the fields had just been\nplanted. Hercules had wrestled with this river god and had broken off\none of his horns, on account of which he had to keep the streams between\ntheir banks. Hercules made up his mind that he would take advantage of\nhis power over the river god in his present need.\n\nSo what did Hercules do but lead the courses of two streams, the Alpheus\nand the Peneus, right through the Augean stables cleansing them\nthoroughly. When he finished this labor, the result was so fine that he\nhad quite as much reason to be proud of it as he had over his other\nprowess. It was as splendid to use one's strength in cleaning as in any\nother way, Hercules discovered.\n\nHe went on from one adventure to another with the years, always\nsuccessful although everyone prophesied that some day his strength would\nfail and he would have to give up. Eurystheus wanted a new yoke of\noxen, and none would do except those who lived in the land of the\nsetting sun, in the western part of Greece and were guarded by a giant\nwho had three bodies. Hercules set out for the place and when he reached\nit he discovered that not only the giant, but a huge dog that had two\nheads guarded the oxen. Hercules killed the giant and his dog and drove\nthe oxen home to Eurystheus.\n\nVictor over wild beasts and giants, and able to accomplish any work\nwhich he attempted! What labor was there left for this son of Mount\nOlympus? Eurystheus knew. He sent Hercules on what seemed indeed a wild\ngoose search. He commanded him to bring back to Greece the golden apples\nof the Hesperides without telling him where they were to be found.\n\nThey were very plump and beautiful apples made altogether of solid gold.\nIt is said that they were the first oranges the world had ever known.\nHowever that may be the Greeks wanted them very much. Juno had received\nthem for a wedding present from the goddess of Earth, and had hung some\non a golden tree in the fair garden of the daughters of Hesperis who\nkept a dragon to guard them. It would have been a task to pick them even\nif one had known where to go for them. Hercules started out, though,\nwithout route or chart and it was the most difficult of all his\nadventures.\n\nHe met Antaeus, a son of the Earth, who was a mighty giant and wrestler.\nHercules encountered this son of the Earth and threw him countless\ntimes, but each time the giant rose from the ground with renewed\nstrength. It was like magic, but Hercules found out at last the secret\nof Antaeus' strength, as you, also, will in the next story, and did\nbattle with him. Then, on went Hercules, for the Earth could no longer\nstop him, and after awhile he found himself at Mount Atlas in Africa.\nThe bent old giant, Atlas, stood on the top of this, holding up the sky\non his shoulders. He was as ancient as the mountain itself and doomed by\nthe gods to stand there through the seasons and never go home to the\ngarden of the Hesperides where his daughters lived.\n\n\"If you will but bring me the golden apples of the Hesperides, old\nAtlas, I will take your place on the mountain top for a space,\"\nHercules said to the giant.\n\n\"The sky is heavier than you imagine, my son,\" Atlas replied. \"I doubt\nif you can bear it.\"\n\n\"Let me but try,\" Hercules urged him.\n\nSo Atlas shifted the burden of the heavens from his shoulders to those\nof Hercules and the hero held them securely. When Atlas returned, his\narms full of the precious golden balls, Hercules still held the sky as\nif he scarcely felt its weight. Atlas wanted to have him hold it always,\nbut Hercules was of no mind to do that. He gave back his load to Atlas\nand took the apples of the Hesperides home to Greece.\n\nHercules had conquered the earth even in this last adventure, and it\nseemed as if there was no great deed left for this hero. But he\ncontinued using his mighty strength, even to descending to Pluto's realm\nof darkness and bringing back the heroic Theseus who was a prisoner\nthere. At last even his enemies on Mount Olympus were forced to grant\nhim a place of honor in their midst and Jupiter wrapped him in a cloud\nand sent a four horse chariot to bring him home along the road of the\nstars. When Hercules reached the Olympian Heights it is said that old\nAtlas bent still lower with the weight on his shoulders, for this hero\nhad added new strength to the heavens.\n\nBut how about those two goddesses, you ask, who presided like fairy\ngodmothers over the destiny of Hercules? The ancients asked that same\nquestion, and Hercules answered it just before Jupiter called him away\nfrom Greece.\n\nOne of these goddesses was named Virtue, and the other Pleasure, but it\nwas the first whom Hercules followed all his life.\n\n\n\n\n[2]THE PYGMIES.\n\n\nA great while ago, in the days of the myths, there lived an earth-born\nGiant named Antaeus, and a race of little earth-born people who were\ncalled Pygmies. This Giant and these Pygmies, being children of the same\nMother Earth, lived together in a very friendly way far off in the\nmiddle of hot Africa.\n\nIt must have been very curious to behold the Pygmies' little cities with\nstreets two or three feet wide paved with the smallest pebbles and\nbordered by habitations about as big as a squirrel's cage. If one of the\nPygmies grew to the height of six or eight inches he was reckoned a\nprodigiously tall man and there were so many sandy deserts and high\nmountains between them and the rest of mankind that nobody could get a\npeep at them oftener than once in a hundred years.\n\nThe king's palace was about as tall as a dolls' house and this and the\nrest of their houses were built neither of stone or wood. They were\nneatly plastered together by the Pygmy workmen, pretty much like birds'\nnests, out of straw, feathers, egg shells, and other bits of small stuff\nwith stiff clay instead of mortar. And when the sun had dried them they\nwere just as snug and comfortable as a Pygmy could desire.\n\nTheir giant friend, Antaeus, was so very tall that he carried a pine\ntree for a walking stick. It took a far-sighted Pygmy to see the top of\nhis head on a cloudy day. But at noonday, when the sun shone brightly\nover him, Antaeus presented a very grand spectacle. There he used to\nstand, a perfect mountain of a man, with his great countenance smiling\ndown on his little brothers and his one eye, which was as big as a cart\nwheel and placed right in the centre of his forehead, giving a friendly\nwink to the whole nation at once. In spite of the difference in their\nsize, it seemed as if Antaeus needed the Pygmies for his friend as much\nas they did him for the protection he was to them. No creature of his\nown size had ever talked with him. When he stood with his head among the\nclouds, he was quite alone and had been so for hundreds of years and\nwould be forever. Even if he had met one of the other Giants, Antaeus\nwould have fancied the earth not large enough for them both and would\nhave fought with him. But with the Pygmies he was the most merry and\nsweet tempered old Giant who ever washed his face in a cloud.\n\nThe Pygmies had but one thing to trouble them in the world. They were\nconstantly at war with the cranes. From time to time very terrible\nbattles had been fought in which sometimes the little men were\nvictorious and sometimes the cranes. When the two armies joined battle,\nthe cranes would rush forward, flapping their wings, and would perhaps\nsnatch up some of the Pygmies crosswise in their beaks. It was truly an\nawful spectacle to see the little men kicking and sprawling in the air\nand then disappearing down the crane's crooked throat, swallowed alive.\nIf Antaeus observed that the battle was going hard with his little\nallies, he ran with mile-long strides to their rescue, flourishing his\nclub and shouting at the cranes who quacked and croaked and retreated as\nfast as they could.\n\nOne day the mighty Antaeus was lolling at full length among his\nfriends. His head was in one part of the kingdom and his feet in another\nand he was taking what comfort he could while the Pygmies scrambled over\nhim and played in his hair. Sometimes, for a minute or two, the Giant\ndropped to sleep and snored like the rush of a whirlwind. During one of\nthese naps a Pygmy climbed upon his shoulder and took a view around the\nhorizon as from the summit of a hill. Suddenly he saw something, a long\nway off, that made him rub his eyes and looked sharper than before. At\nfirst he mistook it for a mountain and then he saw the mountain move. As\nit came nearer, what should it turn out to be but a human shape, not so\nlarge as Antaeus, but an enormous figure when compared with the Pygmies.\n\nThe Pygmy scampered as fast as his legs would carry him to the Giant's\near and, stooping over, shouted in it,\n\n\"Brother Antaeus, get up this minute! Take your walking stick in your\nhand for here comes another Giant to do battle with you!\"\n\n\"Pooh, pooh!\" grumbled Antaeus, only half awake. \"None of your\nnonsense, my little fellow. Don't you see that I am sleepy? There is not\nanother Giant on earth for whom I would take the trouble to get up.\"\n\nBut the Pygmy looked again and now perceived that the stranger was\ncoming directly toward the prostrate form of Antaeus. There he was, with\nthe sun flaming on his golden helmet and flashing from his polished\nbreastplate. He had a sword by his side, and a lion's skin over his\nback, and on his right shoulder he carried a club which looked bulkier\nand heavier than the pine-tree walking stick of Antaeus.\n\nBy this time the whole nation of Pygmies had seen the new wonder and a\nmillion of them set up a shout all together,\n\n\"Get up, Antaeus! Bestir yourself, you lazy old Giant. Here comes\nanother Giant, as strong as you are, to fight with you.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" growled the sleepy Giant. \"I'll have my nap out, come who\nmay.\"\n\nStill the stranger drew nearer, and now the Pygmies could plainly\ndiscern that, if his stature were less lofty than the Giant's, yet his\nshoulders were even broader. What a pair of shoulders they must have\nbeen, for they were, later, to uphold the sky! So the Pygmies kept\nshouting at Antaeus, and even went so far as to prick him with their\nswords. Antaeus sat up, gave a yawn that was several yards wide, and\nfinally turned his stupid head in the direction in which the little\npeople pointed.\n\nNo sooner did he set eye on the stranger than, leaping to his feet and\nseizing his walking stick, he strode a mile or two to meet him, all the\nwhile brandishing the sturdy pine-tree so that it whistled through the\nair.\n\n\"Who are you?\" thundered the Giant, \"and what do you want in my domain?\nSpeak, you vagabond, or I'll try the thickness of your skull with my\nwalking-stick.\"\n\n\"You are a very discourteous Giant,\" answered the stranger quietly, \"and\nI shall probably have to teach you a little civility before we part. As\nfor my name, it is Hercules. I have come hither because this is my most\nconvenient road to the garden of the Hesperides, where I am going to get\nsome of the golden apples for King Eurystheus.\"\n\n\"Then you shall go no farther!\" bellowed Antaeus, for he had heard of\nthe mighty Hercules and hated him because he was said to be so strong.\n\n\"I will hit you a slight rap with this pine-tree, for I would be ashamed\nto kill such a puny dwarf as you appear. I will make a slave of you, and\nyou shall likewise be the slave of my brothers here, the Pygmies. So\nthrow down your club. As for that lion's skin you wear, I intend to have\na pair of gloves made of it.\"\n\n\"Come and take it off my shoulders then,\" answered Hercules, lifting his\nclub.\n\nAt that Antaeus, scowling with rage, strode, towerlike, toward the\nstranger and gave a mighty blow at him with his pine-tree, which\nHercules caught upon his club; and, being more skilful than the Giant,\nhe paid him back such a rap that down tumbled the poor man-mountain flat\nupon the ground. But no sooner was the Giant down than up he bounded,\naiming another blow at Hercules. But he was blinded with his wrath and\nonly hit his poor, innocent Mother Earth, who groaned and trembled at\nthe stroke. His pine tree went so deep into the ground that before\nAntaeus could get it out, Hercules brought his club down over his\nshoulders with a mighty whack which made the Giant let out a terrible\nroar. Away it echoed, over mountains and valleys. As for the Pygmies,\ntheir capital city was laid in ruins by the vibration it made in the\nair.\n\nBut Antaeus scrambled to his feet again and succeeded in pulling his\npine-tree out of the earth. He ran at Hercules, and brought down another\nblow.\n\n\"This time, rascal!\" he shouted, \"you shall not escape me.\"\n\nBut once more Hercules warded off the stroke with his club, and the\nGiant's pine-tree was shattered to a thousand splinters. Before Antaeus\ncould get out of the way, Hercules let drive again, and gave him another\nknock-down blow. Then, watching his opportunity as the Giant rose again,\nHercules caught him round the middle with both hands, lifted him high\ninto the air, and held him aloft.\n\nBut the most wonderful thing was that, as soon as Antaeus was off the\nearth, he began to lose the vigor that it now appeared he had gained by\ntouching it. Hercules soon discovered that his enemy was growing\nweaker, both because he kicked and struggled with less violence, and\nbecause the thunder of his big voice subsided to a grumble. The truth\nwas that, unless the Giant touched Mother Earth as often as once in five\nminutes, not only his overgrown strength, but the very breath of his\nlife would depart from him. Hercules had guessed this secret; it may be\nwell for us all to remember it in case we should ever have to fight with\na fellow like Antaeus. For these earth-born Giants are not only\ndifficult to conquer on their own ground but may easily be managed if we\ncan contrive to lift them into a loftier and purer region.\n\nWhen Antaeus' strength and breath were gone, Hercules gave his huge body\na toss and flung it a mile off where it lay heavily with no more motion\nthan a sand hill. His ponderous form may be lying in the same spot\nto-day, and might be mistaken for those of an uncommonly large elephant.\n\nWhat a wailing the poor little Pygmies set up when they saw their\nenormous brother treated in this terrible way! As soon as they saw\nHercules preparing for a nap, they nodded their little heads at one\nanother and winked their little eyes. And when he had closed his eyes\nthe whole Pygmy nation set out to destroy the hero.\n\nA body of twenty thousand archers marched in front with their little\nbows all ready and their arrows on the string. The same number were\nordered to clamber on Hercules, some with spades to dig his eyes out,\nand others with bundles of hay to plug up his mouth and nostrils. These\nlast could not harm him at all, for as soon as he snored he blew out the\nhay and sent the Pygmies flying before the hurricane of his breath. It\nwas found necessary to hit upon some other way of carrying on the war.\n\nAfter holding a council, the captains ordered their troops to collect\nsticks, straws and dry weeds and heap them around the head of Hercules.\nThe archers, meanwhile, were stationed within bow shot with orders to\nlet fly at Hercules the instant that he stirred. Everything being in\nreadiness, a torch was applied to the pile which immediately burst into\nflames and soon waxed hot enough to roast Hercules. A Pygmy, you know,\nthough so very small, might set the world on fire just as easily as a\nGiant could.\n\nBut no sooner did Hercules begin to be scorched than up he started.\n\n\"What's all this?\" he cried, and staring about him as if he expected\nanother Giant.\n\nAt that moment the twenty thousand archers twanged their bow strings and\nthe arrows came whizzing like so many mosquitoes. Hercules gazed around,\nfor he hardly felt the arrows. At last, looking narrowly at the ground,\nhe espied the Pygmies at his feet. He stooped down and taking up the\nnearest one between his thumb and finger, set him on the palm of his\nleft hand and looked at him.\n\n\"Who in the world, my little fellow, are you?\" Hercules asked.\n\n\"I am your enemy,\" answered the Pygmy. \"You have slain the Giant,\nAntaeus, our brother by our mother's side, and we are determined to put\nyou to death.\"\n\nHercules was so amused by the Pygmy's big words and warlike gestures\nthat he burst into laughter and almost dropped the poor little mite of a\ncreature off his hand.\n\n\"Upon my word,\" he said, \"I thought I had seen wonders before to-day,\nhydras with many heads, three headed dogs, and giants with furnaces in\ntheir stomachs, but you outdo them all. Your body, my little friend, is\nabout the size of an ordinary man's finger. Pray, how big may your soul\nbe?\"\n\n\"As big as your own,\" said the Pygmy.\n\nHercules was amazed at the little man's courage, and so he left the\nPygmies, one and all, in their own country, building their little\nhouses, waging their little warfare with the cranes, and doing their\nlittle business whatever it might have been.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[2] By permission of and special arrangement with the Houghton\nMifflin Co.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HORN OF PLENTY.\n\n\nDejanira was one of the most beautiful of princesses who lived in the\nlong ago days of the Greek gods and goddesses. It seemed as if all the\ncharm of the world in this, its myth time, was hers. Her hair was bright\nwith the yellow of the first spring sunshine, and her eyes were as blue\nas the skies of spring. Summer had touched Dejanira's cheeks with the\npink of rose petals, and the colors of the autumn fruits shone in her\njewels, crimson and purple and gold. Her robes were as white and soft as\nthe snows of winter, and all the music of soft winds and bird songs and\nrippling brooks was in this princess' voice.\n\nBecause of her beauty and her goodness, which even surpassed it, princes\ncame from all over the world to ask Dejanira's father, Aeneus, if she\nmight go home to their kingdoms to be their queen. But to all these\nAeneus replied that to none but the strongest would he give the\nprincess.\n\nSo there were many tests of these strangers' skill and strength in\ngames and wrestling, but one by one they failed. At last there were only\ntwo left, Hercules who was strong enough to hold the sky on his broad\nshoulders, and Achelous, the river-god, who twisted and twined through\nthe fields making them fertile with the brooks and the streams. Each\nthought himself the greater of the two, and it lay between them which by\nhis prowess should gain the princess to be his wife.\n\nHercules was massive of limb and of powerful strength. Beneath his\nshaggy eyebrows, his eyes gleamed like balls of fire. His garment was of\nlions' skins and his staff was a young tree. But the clever Achelous was\nable to slip between the huge fingers of Hercules. He was as slender and\ngraceful as a willow tree and his garment was of the green of foliage.\nHe wore a crown of water lilies on his fair hair, and carried a staff\nmade of twined reeds. When Achelous spoke, his voice was like the\nrippling of a stream.\n\n\"The Princess Dejanira shall be mine!\" said Achelous. \"I will make her\nthe queen of the river lands. The music of the waters shall be always\nin her ears, and the plenty that follows wherever I go shall make her\nrich.\"\n\n\"No!\" shouted Hercules. \"I am the strength of the earth. Dejanira is\nmine. You shall not have her.\"\n\nThen the river-god grew very angry. His green robe changed its color to\nthat of the black of the sea in a storm, and his voice was as loud as\nthat of a mountain cataract. Achelous could be almost as powerful as\nHercules when he was angered.\n\n\"How do you dare claim this royal maiden?\" he roared, \"you, who have\nmortal blood in your veins! I am a god and the king of the waters.\nWherever I take my way over the earth grains and fruits ripen and\nflowers bud and bloom. The Princess Dejanira is mine by right.\"\n\nHercules frowned as he advanced toward the river-god. \"Your strength is\nonly in words,\" he said scornfully. \"My strength is in my arm. If you\nwould win Dejanira, it must be by hand-to-hand combat.\" So the river-god\nthrew off his garments and Hercules his lion's skin, and the two fought\nfor the hand of the princess.\n\nIt was a brave and valorous battle. Neither yielded; both stood their\nground. Achelous slipped in and out of Hercules' mighty grasp a dozen\ntimes, but at last the hero's powerful strength was too much for this\ngod who had to depend upon adroitness only. Hercules gripped the\nriver-god fast by his neck and held him, panting for breath.\n\nThen Achelous resorted to the trickery that he knew. He suddenly changed\nhis form through the magic arts he could practise to that of a long,\nslimy serpent. He twisted out of Hercules' grasp and darted a forked\ntongue out at him, showing his fangs. Hercules was not yet undone. He\nonly laughed scornfully at the serpent and grasped the creature by the\nback of its neck, ready to strangle it.\n\nAchelous struggled in vain to escape and at last resorted once more to\nsorcery. In a second the serpent had changed its form to that of a\nferocious, roaring bull. It charged upon Hercules with lowered horns.\nBut the hero was still unvanquished. He seized hold of the bull's horns,\nbent its head, gripped its brawny neck and threw it, burying its horns\nin the ground. Then he broke off one of the horns with his iron strong\nhand and held it up in the air shouting,\n\n\"Victory! Dejanira is mine!\"\n\nAchelous returned to his own shape and, crying with pain, ran from the\ncastle grounds where the combat had taken place and did not stop until\nhe had plunged into a cooling stream. It had been right that Hercules\nshould triumph, for his was the strength of arm, not of trickery.\n\nThe Princess Dejanira came to him and with her the goddess of plenty,\nCeres, to give the conqueror his reward.\n\nCeres took the great horn which Hercules had torn from Achelous' head\nand heaped it full to overflowing with the treasures of the year's\nharvest. Ripe grain, purple grapes, rosy apples, plums, nuts,\npomegranates, olives and figs filled the horn and spilled over the edge.\nThe wood-nymphs and the water-nymphs came and twined the horn with vines\nand crimson leaves and the last bright flowers of the year. Then they\ncarried this first horn of plenty high above their heads and gave it to\nHercules and the beautiful Dejanira as a wedding present. It was the\nrichest gift the gods could make, that of the year's harvest.\n\nAnd ever since that long-ago story time of the Greeks, the horn of\nplenty has stood for the year's blessing of us.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDER THE FROGS MISSED\n\n\nLatona had very wonderful twin babies and the queen of the gods, Juno,\nwas jealous of her on account of these little ones. Perhaps Juno had the\npower to look ahead through the years to the time when Latona's children\nshould be grown up and take their places with the family of the gods on\nMount Olympus.\n\nWho were these twins? Oh, that is the end of the story.\n\nSo Juno, who could work almost any good or evil which she desired,\ndecreed that this mother should never have any fixed home in which to\nbring up her babies. If Latona found a shelter and a cradle for the\ntwins in the cottage of some hospitable farmer, a drought would descend\nat once upon his fields and dry up the harvest, or a hailstorm would\ndestroy his fruit crop so that there would be no food for the family. If\nLatona stopped with the vine dressers, laying her babies in the cool\nshade of an arbor while she helped to pick the grapes, a gale might\narise and sweep down upon the vineyard and all would have to flee for\ntheir lives.\n\nShe was obliged to wander up and down the land with her little ones,\nwrapping her cloak about them to shield them from the weather, and she\ngrew very weary and despaired of ever raising her little boy and girl to\nbe the fine man and woman she longed to have them.\n\nOne day in the heat of the summer Latona came to the country of Lycia in\nGreece and it really seemed as if she could not walk a single step\nfarther. The babies were heavy and she had found no water for refreshing\nherself for a long time. By chance, though, she saw a pool of clear\nwater just beyond in the hollow of a valley. Some of the country people\nof Lycia were there on the edge of the water gathering reeds and fine\nwillows with which they were weaving baskets for holding fruits. Latona\nsummoned all her strength and dragged herself to the pool, kneeling down\non the bank to drink and dip up water for cooling the babies' heads.\n\n\"Stop!\" the rustic people commanded her. \"You have no right to touch our\nwaters!\"\n\n\"I only wish to drink, kind friends,\" Latona explained to them. \"I\nthought that water was free to all, and my mouth is so dry that I can\nhardly speak. A drink of water would be nectar to me. The gods give us\nas common property the sunshine, the air, and the streams and I would\nonly share your pool to revive me, not to bathe in it. See how my\nbabies, too, stretch out their arms to you in pleading!\"\n\nIt was quite true; Latona's little ones were holding out their arms in\nsupplication, but the rustics turned their heads away. They did more\nthan this. They waded into the pool and stirred up the water with their\nfeet so as to make it muddy and unfit to drink. As they did this they\nlaughed at Latona's discomfiture and jeered at her sorry plight.\n\nShe was a long suffering mother, but she felt as if this unkindness was\nmore than she could bear. She lifted her hands toward the habitation of\nthe gods and called to them for help.\n\n\"May these rustics who refuse to succor two children of your family be\npunished!\" Latona begged. \"May they never be able to leave this pool\nwhose clear waters they have defiled!\"\n\nThe company of the gods, and perhaps Juno also, heard Latona's entreaty\nand one of the strangest things of all mythology happened.\n\nThe rustics tried to leave the pool and return to their basket-making,\nbut they discovered that their feet had suddenly grown flat and\nshapeless and were stuck fast in the mud. They called for help, but\ntheir voices were harsh, their throats bloated, and their mouths had\nstretched so that they were unable to form words. Their necks had\ndisappeared and their heads, with great bulging eyes, were joined to\ntheir backs. Their flesh was turned to thick green skin and they could\nnot stand erect.\n\nIt was as Latona had asked. These boorish, unseeing country clowns would\nnever leave the slimy water into which they had stepped, for the gods\nhad changed them into the first frogs.\n\n\"This is indeed a terrible punishment for so slight an offence as\nridiculing a stranger,\" the people of Lycia said to each other as they\nvisited the pools and rivers during the seasons that followed and\nlistened to the continual, hoarse croaking of the frogs. The river god,\nPeneus, knew them also and so did the lovely nymph, Daphne, his\ndaughter, who was never happier than when she was flying on her fairy\nlike feet, her soft green garments fluttering about her, along the edge\nof some stream.\n\nDaphne was more like a spirit of the woods than a girl. She would rather\nlive within the shadow of leaves than under a palace roof, and she liked\nbetter to follow the deer and gather wild flowers than to have any\nintercourse with the boys and girls of the villages. But she was\nunmatched by the most beautiful daughter of all Greece, her long hair\nflung loose like a veil over her shoulders, her eyes as soft and shining\nas stars, and her body as graceful and well moulded as some rare vase.\n\nAt that time a strange youth was seen to haunt the forests and banks of\nthe river god. He was as fair and well shaped as Daphne, and there was\nalso something unusual about him. Whenever he was seen, there seemed to\nbe more light along the paths where he walked. He made the daytime\nbrighter and the gold rays of the sun shine more gloriously. When this\nyouth stopped for a while with a shepherd, no wolves attacked the flock,\nand he kept herds safe from the mountain lions. He had made a lyre for\nhimself, a musical instrument of many tuneful strings that had not been\nheard in Greece before. He was touching the strings into a song about\nthe pastures and the woods in the spring one day when he suddenly saw\nthe nymph, Daphne.\n\nHe had seen her before moving like a green bough blown by the wind along\nthe shores of many waters. He thought that he had never seen so\nbeautiful a creature or one so much to be desired, but whenever Daphne\ncaught a glimpse of this strange, strong youth, she was frightened and\nwas at once off and away. Now, though, he was determined to pursue\nDaphne and catch her. He dropped his lyre and ran after her, but she\neluded him, running more swiftly than the wind.\n\n\"Stay, daughter of Peneus,\" he called. \"Do not fly from me as a dove\nflies from a hawk. I am no rude peasant, but one of the gods and I know\nall things, present or future. It is for love that I pursue you, and I\nam miserable in the fear that you may fall and hurt yourself on these\nstones and I shall have been the cause of your hurt. Pray run slower and\nI will follow more slowly!\"\n\nBut Daphne was deaf to the youth's entreating words. On she sped, the\nwind blowing her green garments, and her hair streaming loosely behind\nher. It was, at last, like the fleet running hound pursuing the hare;\nthe youth was swifter and gained on her. His panting breath touched her\nneck. In her terror she did not stop to understand that he pursued her\nonly because he loved her so much and that he would not do her any harm.\n\nAt last she came to the edge of a stream.\n\nOn one side of Daphne were the croaking frogs and the water reeds and\nthe deeper waters beyond. On the other side was her pursuer. Daphne\ncalled to her father, the river god,\n\n\"Help me, Peneus! Open the earth to take me into it out of sight and\nsound!\"\n\nBut the god of light and music knew what was better far for Daphne than\nthis. He touched her fair form and it stiffened and her feet stood\nfirmly upon the bank of the stream. Her body was suddenly enclosed in\ntender bark and her hair became leaves. Her arms were long, drooping\nbranches and her face changed to the form of a tree top. There had\nnever been a tree like the one into which Daphne was transformed, the\ngreen laurel tree.\n\nThe young god looked at her and saw how fair a work of his hands was\nthis changing of a nymph. The tree would never fade, but would stretch\nits green top up toward the sky to feel the light that he would pour\ndown on it. When the wind touched the laurel's leaves they would sing as\nhis lyre sang.\n\n\"Come and see what beauty I have given to the nymph, Daphne, whom I\nloved,\" he called, and out of the forest came a brave young huntress, a\ndeer walking quite unafraid at her side. It was Diana, his sister, and\nshe hung her quiver of arrows on the laurel tree and led the deer to a\nshelter underneath its branches.\n\n\"This shall be my tree,\" he said putting his hands on the laurel. \"I\nwill wear it for my crown, and when the great Roman conquerors lead\ntheir troops to the Capitol in triumphal pomp it shall be woven into\nwreaths for their brows. As eternal youth is mine, the laurel shall\nalways be green and its leaves shall never wither.\"\n\nThe sun began to sink behind the hills and the youth saw the light fade\nin terror. He could give the laurel the brightness of day but he had no\npower to keep it safe through the darkness of night. Just then a silver\nball appeared in the purple sky rising higher and higher and sending\ndown long white beams to brighten the dusk.\n\n\"Diana, see, there is a light in the evening sky!\" the youth exclaimed,\nbut his sister had disappeared. Diana, the huntress, was now Diana, the\nmoon, the queen of the darkness and shedding her light on the laurel\ntree that her brother, Apollo, the god of the sun, loved so much.\n\nThe frogs along the river bank croaked harshly and could not understand\nany of these wonders that had come to pass right beside them. They had\nmissed a wonder when they were rustics, too. There are some people like\nthat. They, too, would see only a ragged, weary stranger with her tired\nbabies, not worth the trouble of helping, when those little ones might\nbe an Apollo and a Diana, the gods of the day and the night.\n\n\n\n\nWHEN PHAETON'S CHARIOT RAN AWAY.\n\n\n\"You are only boasting, Phaeton. I don't believe for a moment that your\nfather is Apollo, the god of light,\" Cycnus, one of his schoolmates,\nsaid to the lad who had just made this proud statement.\n\n\"It is true,\" Phaeton replied. \"You won't believe me because I am alone\nhere in Greece, cared for by one of the nymphs and learning the lessons\nthat all Greek boys do. I shall show you, though. I will take my way to\nthe home of the gods and present myself to my father.\"\n\nThat was indeed a bold plan on the part of this youth who had not been\nbeyond the shores of his native land in all his life. But Phaeton set\nout at once for India, since that was the place where the sun which\nlighted Greece seemed to rise. He felt sure that he would find Apollo at\nthe palace of the Sun, so he did not stop until he had climbed mountains\nand then beyond and higher through the steeps of the clouds. Suddenly he\nwas obliged to stop, covering his eyes with his hands to shut out the\nbrilliant light that dazzled him. There, in front of Phaeton, reared\naloft on shining columns, stood the palace of the Sun.\n\nIt glittered with gold and precious stones, and Phaeton made his way\ninside through heavy doors of solid silver. He had heard of the\nbeautiful workmanship of Vulcan who had designed Apollo's palace, but\nwhen he stood beneath the polished ivory ceilings of the throne room it\nwas more wonderful than anything he had ever imagined.\n\nApollo, in a royal purple robe, sat on the throne that was as bright as\nif it had been cut from a solid diamond, and about him stood his\nattendants who helped him in making the earth a pleasant, fruitful\nhabitation for men. On Apollo's right hand and on his left stood the\nDays, the Months, and the Years, and at regular intervals the Hours.\nSpring was there, her head crowned with flowers, and Summer who wore a\ngarland formed of spears of ripened grain. Autumn stood beside Apollo,\nhis feet stained with the juice of the grape, and there was icy Winter,\nhis hair stiffened with hoar frost. There was nothing hidden from Apollo\nin the whole world and he saw Phaeton the instant he entered the hall.\n\n\"What is your errand here, rash lad?\" he asked sternly.\n\nPhaeton went closer and knelt at the foot of the throne.\n\n\"Oh, my father, light of the boundless world!\" he said. \"I want to be\nknown as your son. Give me some proof by which I can show mortals and\nthe gods as well that I am not of the earth but have a place with you on\nMount Olympus!\"\n\nApollo was pleased with the pleading of the youth and, laying aside the\ncrown of bright beams that he wore on his head, stretched out his arms\nand embraced Phaeton.\n\n\"My son, you do not deserve to be disowned,\" he said. \"To put an end to\nyour doubts ask whatever favor you like of me and the gift shall be\nyours.\"\n\nIt was wonderful; Phaeton had never, in his dreams even, expected so\ngreat a boon as this. But he was as reckless and ambitious as many a boy\nof to-day who fancies himself able to carry on his father's work without\nall the skill and experience which earned his success. He knew at once\nthe desire that was closest to his heart.\n\n\"For one day only, father, let me drive your chariot?\" Phaeton begged.\n\nApollo drew back in dismay.\n\n\"I spoke rashly,\" he said. \"That is the one request I ought to refuse\nyou. It is not a safe adventure or suited to your youth and strength,\nPhaeton. Your arms are mortal and you ask what is beyond mortal's power.\nYou aspire to do that which even the gods can not accomplish. No one but\nmyself, not even Jupiter whose terrible right arm hurls the thunderbolts\nand the lightning, may drive the flaming chariot of day.\"\n\n\"Why is it so difficult a task?\" Phaeton asked, determined not to give\nup.\n\nApollo explained to him with great patience.\n\n\"It is a difficult track to keep through the skies,\" he said. \"The\nbeginning of the way is so steep that the horses, even when they are\nfresh in the morning, can hardly be urged to climb it. Then comes the\nmiddle of the course, so high up in the heavens and so narrow that I\nmyself can scarcely look below without giddiness at the earth and its\nwaters. The last part of the course descends rapidly and calls for most\nexpert driving. Add to all this the constant, dizzy turning of the sky\nwith its sea of stars. I must be always on my guard lest their movement,\nwhich sweeps everything along with it, should hurry me or throw me out\nof my course. If I lend you my chariot, what can you, a boy, do? Can you\nkeep the road with all the spheres in the universe revolving around\nyou?\"\n\n\"I am sure that I can, father,\" Phaeton replied boldly. \"What you say,\nof course, does not deter me from starting along it. I have a strong arm\nand a steady eye for driving. There is no danger other than this on the\nway, is there?\" he asked.\n\n\"There are greater dangers,\" Apollo said. \"Do you expect to pass cool\nforests and white cities, the abodes of the gods, and palaces, and\ntemples on the way? The road goes through the domain of frightful\nmonsters. You must run the gauntlet of the Archer's arrows and pass by\nthe horns of the Bull. The Lion's jaws will be open to devour you, the\nScorpion will stretch out its tentacles for you, and the great Crab its\nclaws. And you will find it no easy feat to manage the horses, their\nbreasts so full of fire that they breathe it out in flame through their\nnostrils. I can scarcely hold them myself when they are unruly and\nresist the reins.\"\n\n\"I have driven a chariot at the games of Athens,\" Phaeton boasted, \"when\nwild beasts were close to the arena, and my steeds were most\nunmanageable.\"\n\nApollo made one last plea.\n\n\"Look the universe over, my son,\" he entreated, \"and choose whatever is\nmost precious in the earth or on the sea. This will I give you in proof\nthat you are my son, but take back your other, rash request.\"\n\n\"I have only one wish, to drive the chariot of the Sun,\" Phaeton\nanswered stubbornly.\n\nThere was but one course left then for Apollo, because a god could never\nbreak his promise. Without a word he led Phaeton to the great stable\nwhere he kept his lofty chariot.\n\nThe chariot was a gift of Vulcan to Apollo, and made of gold. The axle\nwas of gold, the pole and wheels also of gold, and the spokes of the\nbrightest silver. There were rows of chrysolites and diamonds along the\nseat that reflected the rays of the sun. Apollo ordered the Hours to\nharness the horses and they led the steeds, full fed with ambrosia, from\nthe stalls, and attached the reins. As Phaeton, full of pride, watched\nhe saw that Dawn had thrown open the purple gates of the east and his\npathway, strewn with roses, stretched before him. He seated himself in\nthe chariot and took the reins.\n\nApollo anointed his son's face with a powerful unguent that would make\nit possible for him to endure the flaming heat of the sun. He set the\nrays of light on his head and said sorrowfully,\n\n\"If you will be so rash, I beg of you to hold the reins more tightly\nthan you ever did before and spare the whip. The horses go fast enough\nof their own accord, and the difficulty is to hold them in. You are not\nto take the direct road, but turn to the left. You will see the marks of\nmy wheels and these will guide you. Go not too high, or you will set the\nheavenly dwellings on fire, or so low as to burn the earth, but keep to\nthe middle course which is best. Night is just passing out of the\nwestern gates so you can delay no longer. Start the chariot, and may\nyour chance work better for you than you have planned.\"\n\nPhaeton stood up in the gilded chariot, lifted the reins, and was off\nlike a dart.\n\nIn an instant the snorting, fiery horses discovered that they were\ncarrying a lighter load than usual and they dashed through the clouds as\nif the chariot had been empty. It reeled and was tossed about like a\nship at sea without ballast. The bars of the sky were let down and the\nlimitless plain of the universe lay before the horses. They left\nApollo's travelled course and Phaeton was powerless to guide them. He\nlooked down at the earth so far below him, and he grew pale and his\nknees shook with terror. He turned his eyes on the trackless heavens in\nfront of him and was even more terrified to see the huge forms among\nwhich he rode as if he was driven by a tempest; the Archer, the Great\nBear, the Lion and the Crab. All those monsters of whom Apollo had\nwarned him were there, and others too.\n\nPhaeton wished he had never left the earth, never made so bold a request\nof his father. He lost his self command and could not tell whether to\ndraw the reins tightly or let them loose. He forgot the names of the\nsteeds. At last, as he saw the Scorpion directly in his path, its two\ngreat arms extended and its fangs reeking with poison, he lost all his\ncourage and the reins dropped from his hands. As the horses felt their\nloosened harness, they dashed away headlong into unknown regions of the\nsky, now up in high heaven among the stars and then hurling the chariot\ndown almost to the earth.\n\nThe mountain tops took fire and the clouds began to smoke. Plants\nwithered, the leafy branches of the trees burned, the harvests blazed\nand the fields were parched with heat. The whole world was on fire.\nGreat cities perished with their beautiful towers and high walls, and\nentire nations with all their people were reduced to ashes. It is said\nthat the river Nile fled away and hid its head in the desert where it\nstill lies concealed. The earth cracked and the sea shrank. Dry plains\nlay where there had been oceans before and the mountains that had been\ncovered by the sea lifted up their heads and became islands. Even\nNeptune, the god of the sea, was driven back by the heat when he tried\nto lift his head above the surface of the waters, and the Earth looked\nup to Mount Olympus and called to Jupiter for help.\n\nIt was indeed time for the gods to act. Jupiter mounted to the tall\ntower where he kept his forked lightnings and from which he spread the\nrain clouds over the earth. He tossed his thunderbolts right and left\nand, brandishing a dart of lightning in his right hand, he aimed it at\nPhaeton and threw it, tossing him from his chariot down, down through\nspace. The charioteer fell in a trail of fire like a shooting star. One\nof the great rivers of the earth received him and tried to cool his\nburning frame, but he was never again to see the palace of the Sun. His\nrecklessness had brought him, not honor, but destruction.\n\nPhaeton's friend, Cycnus, stood beside the bank of the river mourning\nfor him and even plunged beneath the surface of the water to see if he\ncould bring him back to the earth. But this angered the gods and they\nchanged Cycnus to the swan who floats always on the water, continually\nthrusting its head down as if it were still looking for the fated\ncharioteer of the skies.\n\nEven the sea shell tells the story of Phaeton. Hold it to your ear and\nlisten to its plaintive singing of the lad who lost a place in the\npalace of the sun because he drove the chariot of light for his own\npride and without thought of others.\n\n\n\n\nWHEN APOLLO WAS HERDSMAN.\n\n\nApollo had incurred the anger of his father, Jupiter, and for the very\ngood reason that this god of light had interfered with Jupiter's will.\n\nIt was Jupiter's privilege to throw thunderbolts about whenever he\nwished and to strike down anyone he chose. He kept the Cyclopes busy\nnight and day forging his bolts down under the mountains so that he\nmight have a never-failing supply. One day a thunderbolt directed by\nJove hit Aesculapius, a man of the Greeks who could heal almost any\nsickness among mortals by means of his herbs. Apollo looked upon this\nphysician as an adopted son, because his art of healing brought so much\njoy and light to men. He resented the injury done him by Jupiter's hand\nand he did what even mortals do when they are angry; Apollo vented his\nwrath on whoever was handiest. He aimed his arrows at those innocent\nworkmen, the Cyclopes, and wounded several.\n\nJupiter could not have his authority put aside in this way and he knew\nthat he must punish Apollo. So he commanded him to descend to the earth\nand offer his services as herdsman to Admetus, the king of Thessaly.\n\nIt was very humble work for a god to wear a shepherd's dark cloak and\npasture his flocks in the meadows outside of Thessaly, particularly a\ngod who was used to living in the sumptuous palace of the sun. Apollo's\nslender hands were little suited to the work of ploughing, sowing and\nreaping, but he took excellent care of his ewes and lambs and grew to\nenjoy his task. In his leisure time he found an empty tortoise-shell and\nstretched some cords tightly across it. Then he ran his slender finger\ntips across the cords and drew from them most beautiful music. That was\nthe first lute, and Apollo played on it every day. King Admetus heard\nhis music and came out to listen to the tunes his herdsman played,\nsitting beside Apollo on a mossy bank, but he looked very sorrowful. The\nsweet strains seemed to have no power to cheer him, or even rouse him\nfrom his sadness.\n\n\"Why do you mourn, O King?\" Apollo asked Admetus at last.\n\n\"I long for the hand of the fair Alcestis, the princess of a neighboring\nkingdom, that I may make her my queen,\" King Admetus explained, \"but she\nhas expressed a strange desire. She demands that her suitor appear\nbefore her in a chariot drawn by lions and bears in which she will ride\nhome with him. In no other way will Alcestis come to my court and it is\nimpossible for me to harness wild beasts to any one of my chariots.\"\n\nApollo could not help but be amused at the foolish whim of this wayward\nprincess, but he had a desire to bring happiness wherever he went so he\ndecided to humor her. He went with his lute to the edge of the forest\nthat lay just next to his pasture and he played a tune upon it so sweet\nas to tame any wild beasts. Then out of the forest came two lions and\ntwo bears, as quietly as if they had been sheep. The king fastened them\nto a gilded chariot and drove off for Alcestis with great rejoicing. And\nApollo had the pleasure of seeing the two return and Alcestis crowned as\nthe queen of Thessaly.\n\n[Illustration: Apollo charms the wild beasts.]\n\nIt seemed as if Admetus were destined to enjoy a long and prosperous\nreign, but shortly after he brought his queen home he fell ill of a very\ndeadly plague. Aesculapius, the physician, was no longer able to come to\nthe king's aid and it seemed as if there was no hope for him. But his\ncelestial herdsman, Apollo, again befriended him. Apollo was not able to\nentirely remove the plague but he decreed that the king should live if\nsomeone, who cared enough for him, would die in his stead.\n\nAdmetus was full of joy at this hope. He remembered the vows of faith\nand attachment that bound all his courtiers to him and he expected that\na score would at once offer themselves, willing to sacrifice their lives\nfor their king. But not one was to be found. The bravest warrior, who\nwould willingly have given his life for his king on the battlefield, had\nnot the courage to die for him on a sick-bed. Old servants, who had\nknown the king's bounty and that of his father from the days of their\nchildhood, were not willing to give up the rest of their few days for\ntheir sovereign. Each subject wished someone else to make the sacrifice.\n\n\"Why do not the parents of Admetus give their lives for their son?\" was\nasked, but these aged people felt that they could not bear to be parted\nfrom him for even a short time, and looked to others.\n\nWhat was to be done about it. It was an irrevocable decree on the part\nof Apollo that he had wrested only by means of much persuasion from the\nFates. There was no remedy for Admetus except this sacrifice.\n\nThen a very strange and wonderful thing happened. Queen Alcestis, the\nfair princess who had wanted to ride behind lions and bears when she was\na girl in her own kingdom, had grown very wise and gracious since she\nhad attained to the throne of Thessaly. It had never for an instant\nentered the minds of anyone that she could be offered to the gods in the\nplace of the king. But Queen Alcestis offered herself to save Admetus,\nand as she sickened the king revived and was restored to his old health\nand vigor.\n\nApollo was, of all the mourners of Thessaly, the saddest to see Alcestis\nso ill. She had often found her way to the pastures where he led his\nflock and had sat on a bank twining wreaths of wild flowers that she\nliked better to wear than a crown, while he entertained her with the\nmusic of his lute. And, for once, Apollo did not know what to do,\nbanished as he was from the council of the gods for a while, and unable\nto summon the physician, Aesculapius, to his aid.\n\nHe knew that only great strength could bring Alcestis back from the\nstupor in which she now lay, neither moving or speaking, and with her\nrosy cheeks pale and her eyes closed. He knew, too, that of all the\nheroes Hercules was the strongest. Hercules had performed feats that no\none had believed possible. Would he attempt to keep Alcestis safe from\ndeath, Apollo wondered, particularly when he was entreated by a lowly\nherdsman?\n\nHercules assented, however. He took his station at the gates of the\npalace and wrestled with Death, throwing him, just as he was about to\nenter and claim Alcestis. She lost her weakness, opened her eyes, the\ncolor came again to her cheeks and she was restored to Admetus by this\nlast labor of Hercules.\n\nSo the matter which had bade fair to be so disastrous for a good many\npeople turned out very well after all. Apollo returned to Mount Olympus\nwhen the period of his exile on the earth was up and he delighted the\nMuses much with the sweet tones of his lyre. He even pleaded with his\nfather, Jupiter, to take pity on Aesculapius and the god at last made a\nplace for the physician on the road of stars that leads across the sky.\n\n\n\n\nHOW JUPITER GRANTED A WISH.\n\n\nEach of the villagers in a town of Phrygia heard a knock at the door of\nhis cottage one summer day in the long-ago time of the myths. Each, on\nopening it, saw two strangers, weary travellers, who sought food and a\nshelter for the night.\n\nIt was a part of the temple teachings that a man should succor a\nstranger, no matter how humble, but these Phrygians were a\npleasure-loving, careless people, neglectful of hospitality and of their\ntemple, even, which had fallen into decay.\n\nSo it happened that the same retort met the strangers at whatever door\nthey stopped.\n\n\"Be off! We have only sufficient food for ourselves and no room for any\nbut members of our own family.\"\n\nThere was not a single door but was shut in the faces of these\ntravellers.\n\nThe afternoon was passing and it would soon be dusk. The strangers,\ntired and half famished, climbed a hill on the edge of the village and\ncame at last upon a little cottage set there among the trees. It was a\nvery poor and humble cottage, thatched with straw, and barely large\nenough for the two old peasants, Philemon and his wife, Baucis, who\nlived there. But it opened at once when the strangers knocked to let in\nthe two strangers.\n\n\"We have come to-day from a far country,\" the one who seemed to be the\nolder of the two explained.\n\n\"And we have not touched food since yesterday,\" added the younger one\nwho might have been his son.\n\n\"Then you are welcome to whatever we have to offer you,\" said Philemon.\n\"We are as poor as the birds that nest in the straw of our eaves, but my\nold wife, Baucis, can prepare a meal from very little which may perhaps\nserve you if you are hungry. Come in, and share with us whatever we\nhave.\"\n\nThe two guests crossed the humble threshold, bowing their heads in order\nto pass beneath the low lintel, and Baucis offered them a seat and\nbegged them to try and feel at home.\n\nThe day had grown chilly and the old woman raked out the coals from the\nashes, covered them with leaves and dry bark, and blew the fire into\nflame with her scanty breath. Then she brought some split sticks and dry\nbranches from a corner where she had kept them like a treasure and put\nthem under the kettle that hung over the fire. Afterward, she spread a\nwhite cloth on the table.\n\nAs Baucis made these preparations, Philemon went out to their small\ngarden and gathered the last of the pot-herbs. Baucis put these to boil\nin the kettle and Philemon cut a piece from their last flitch of bacon\nand put it in to flavor the herbs. A bowl carved from beech wood was\nfilled with warm water that the strangers might be refreshed by bathing\ntheir faces, and then Baucis tremblingly made the preparations for\nserving the meal.\n\nThe guests were to sit on the only bench which the cottage afforded and\nBaucis laid a cushion stuffed with seaweed on it and over the cushion\nshe spread a piece of embroidered cloth, ancient and coarse, but one\nthat she used only on great occasions. One of the legs of the table was\nshorter than the other, but Philemon placed a flat stone under it to\nmake it level, and Baucis rubbed sweet smelling herbs over the entire\ntop of the table. Then she placed the food before the strangers, the\nsteaming, savory herbs, olives from the wild trees of Minerva, some\nsweet berries preserved in vinegar, cheese, radishes, and eggs cooked\nlightly in the ashes. It was served in earthen dishes and beside the\nguests stood an earthenware pitcher and two wooden cups.\n\nThere could hardly have been a more appetizing supper, and the kindly\ncheer of the two old peasants made it seem even more delectable. The\nguests ate hungrily and when they had emptied the dishes Baucis brought\na bowl of rosy apples and a comb of wild honey for dessert. She noticed\nthat the two seemed to be enjoying their milk hugely and it made her\nanxious, for the pitcher had not been more than half full. They filled\ntheir cups again and again and drained them.\n\n\"They will finish the milk and ask for more,\" Baucis thought, \"and I\nhave not another drop.\"\n\nThen a great fear and awe possessed the old woman. She peered over the\nshoulder of the older of the strangers into the pitcher and saw that it\nwas brimming full! He poured from it for his companion and it was again\nfull to overflowing as he set it down. Here was a miracle, Baucis knew.\nSuddenly the strangers rose and their disguise of age and travel stained\ngarments fell from them. They were Jupiter, the king of the gods, and\nhis winged son, Mercury!\n\nBaucis and Philemon were struck with terror as they recognized their\nheavenly guests, and they fell on their knees at the gods' feet. With\ntheir shaking hands clasped they implored the gods to pardon them for\ntheir poor entertainment.\n\nThey had an old goose which they tended and cherished as the guardian of\ntheir cottage, and now they felt that they must kill it as a sacrifice\nand offering to Jupiter and Mercury. But the goose ran nimbly away from\nthem and took refuge between the gods themselves.\n\n\"Do not slay the bird,\" Jupiter commanded. \"Your hospitality has been\nperfect. But this inhospitable village shall pay the penalty for its\nlack of reverence. You alone shall remain unpunished. Come and look at\nthe valley below.\"\n\nBaucis and Philemon left the cottage and hobbled a little way down the\nhill with the gods. In the last light of the setting sun they saw the\ndestruction which the people below had brought upon themselves. There\nwas nothing left of the village. All the valley was sunk in a blue lake,\nthe borders of it being wild marsh land indented with pools in which the\nfen-birds waded and called shrilly.\n\n\"There is no house left save ours,\" Philemon gasped.\n\nThen, as they turned, they saw that their cottage, also, had\ndisappeared. It had not been destroyed, though. It was transformed.\nStately marble columns had taken the place of the wooden corner posts.\nThe thatch had grown yellow and was now a golden roof. There were\ncolored mosaic floors and wide silver doors with ornaments and carvings\nof gold. Their little hut, that had been scarcely large enough for two,\nhad grown to the height and bulk of a temple whose gilded spires reached\nup toward the sky. Baucis and Philemon were too awed for words, but\nJupiter spoke to them.\n\n\"What further gift of the gods would you like, good people? Ask whatever\nyou wish and it shall be granted you.\"\n\nThe two old folks consulted for a moment and then Philemon made their\nrequest of Jupiter.\n\n\"We would like to be the guardians of your temple, great Jupiter. And\nsince we have passed so much of our lives here in harmony and love, we\nwish that we might always remain here and never be parted for a moment.\"\n\nAs Philemon finished speaking, he heard Jupiter say, \"Your wish is\ngranted.\" And with these words the gods disappeared from earth. There\nwas a long trail of purple light in the sky like Jupiter's robe, and\nbeside it lay two wing-shaped clouds which marked the road Mercury had\ntaken, but that was all.\n\nBaucis and Philemon went into the temple and were its keepers as long as\nthey were able. One day in the spring when the old couple had become\nvery ancient indeed they stood on the temple steps side by side, looking\nat the new green the earth was putting forth. In that moment another\nmiracle happened to them.\n\nEach grew straight instead of bent with age, and their garments were\ncovered with green leaves. A leafy crown grew upon the head of each and\nas they tried to speak, a covering of bark prevented them. Two stately\ntrees, the linden and the oak, stood beside the temple door to guard it\nin the place of the two good old people who, for their reverence, had\nbeen thus transformed by the gods.\n\n\n\n\nHOW HYACINTHUS BECAME A FLOWER.\n\n\nKings and athletes, country folk and the musicians, sages and merchants\nfrom the towns were all on their way toward the green hill of Parnassus,\none of the long-ago days of the myths, where the city of Delphi stood.\nThe kings rode in their gaily adorned chariots which were drawn by the\nfleetest steeds from the royal stables. The youths were dressed for\nrunning, or they carried flat, circular discs of stone for throwing at a\nmark, javelins and bows and quivers of arrows. The road that led to the\nwhite temple of Apollo at Delphi was choked with people on foot, people\non horseback, and people riding in farm wagons, all going in the same\ndirection. It was a very great occasion indeed, one that came but once\nin five years, the day when the Pythian games in honor of Apollo were\nheld at Delphi.\n\nThey climbed the hill of Parnassus which was a very famous mount,\nbecause of all that had happened there. When the gods saw fit to destroy\nthe earth, Parnassus, alone, had raised its head above the waters and\nsheltered man. There, too, Apollo had transformed his beloved, Daphne,\ninto a laurel tree and ever since then the slopes of the hill had been\ngreen and pink with the branches and blossoms of the laurel. Now,\nParnassus sheltered one of the most famed cities of Greece, Delphi, and\non a wide plain, near a deep cleft in the rock where the oracle was\nsupposed to speak, the games of the Greeks were held in honor of Apollo,\nwho was the god of sports.\n\nThe ground about the game field and the tiers of stone seats surrounding\nit were soon filled with a crowd of onlookers in their holiday garments\nof white and purple and gold. Upon a carved marble pillar at the\nentrance of the field was hung a great wreath of laurel, the prize of\nthe winner, and everyone was talking about who this would be.\n\n\"The greatest test of all is the discus throwing,\" a lad on the edge of\nthe crowd said to another. \"The stone that is hurled from a javelin, or\na spear thrown by a trained soldier has a chance to go straight to the\nmark, but who can aim the thin discus with the wind waiting to turn it\nfrom its course and carry it wide of the mark?\"\n\nThe other lad thought for a moment. Then he spoke.\n\n\"The youth, Hyacinthus, could,\" he said.\n\n\"Oh, Hyacinthus!\" the first lad replied as if the name was a kind of\nspell to work magic. \"Hyacinthus, of course, would win the prize, for is\nhe not the friend of Apollo? It is said that the great god of sports has\nvisited and played games with Hyacinthus ever since the lad was able to\nswing a javelin. He comes to him in the form of a youth like himself\nbecause he loves him so, and they run races and have contests of skill\nhere on Parnassus, and roam the groves together. How great an honor to\nhave a god for one's friend!\" the boy said wistfully.\n\nBut both boys stepped back then and watched breathlessly as four war\nchariots, driven abreast, approached. The horses sweated and foamed, the\ndrivers stood up perilously, shouting and gripping the reins as the\nchariots tipped and crashed along the course. Two chariots locked wheels\nand the drivers fell beneath the terrified, stamping steeds, but no one\nheeded them as the other two rolled and swayed past them, and one\nreached the goal heralded by a shout the crowd sent up as if from one\ngiant throat.\n\n\"Now, the discus combat!\" the boy who had spoken before said, as a\nslender youth in a robe of Tyrian dyes stepped proudly into the centre\nof the field holding the flat, round discus in his hand.\n\n\"Hyacinthus, by my word!\" the second lad exclaimed, \"but who is that\nbeside him?\" he asked, as another youth, dark eyed, straight limbed, and\nwith a countenance that shone like fire appeared, as if he had dropped\nfrom the clouds, and took his place beside Hyacinthus.\n\n\"It is Apollo himself in the guise of a youth!\" the awed whisper ran\nthrough the crowd. \"He has come to guide the discus that his friend\nHyacinthus carries straight to the mark.\"\n\nThat was the wonder that had happened. Those who had far-seeing eyes\ncould discern in the strange youth on the game field the god Apollo, his\ncrown of light showing in bright rays about his head. No one spoke. All\nfaces were turned toward the two as Apollo grasped the discus, raised it\nfar above his head, and with a strange power mingled with skill sent it\nhigh and far.\n\nHyacinthus watched the discus cut through the air as straight as an\narrow shot from a bow. He was perfectly sure that it would skim, without\nturning, as far as the goal at the opposite end of the field and perhaps\nfarther, for he had great faith in this heavenly youth who had been his\ncompanion in so many good times. As swiftly as the discus traveled, did\nHyacinthus' thoughts wing their memories of Apollo's friendship. He had\naccompanied Hyacinthus in his tramps through the forest, carried the\nnets when he went fishing, led his dogs to the chase and even neglected\nhis lyre for their excursions up to the top of Parnassus.\n\n\"I will run ahead and bring back the discus,\" Hyacinthus thought, and\nexcited by the sport and the crowds, he leaped forward to follow the\nflight of the swift stone.\n\nAt that instant the discus, turned from its course by Zephyrous, the\nwind-god, who also loved Hyacinthus and was jealous of Apollo's\naffection for him, struck the earth and bounded back, hitting\nHyacinthus' forehead.\n\nApollo, as pale as the fallen Hyacinthus, ran to his side, raised him,\nand tried with all his art to stop the bleeding of his wound and save\nhis life. But the youth's hurt was beyond the power of all healing. As a\nwhite lily, when one has broken it, hangs its head in the garden and\nturns toward the earth, so the head of the dying Hyacinthus, too heavy\nfor his neck, lay upon his shoulders.\n\n\"I have killed you, my dearest friend,\" Apollo cried, as the people\npushed closer to see the tragedy and then turned their faces away from\nthis grief of a god which was greater than a mortal could feel. \"I have\nrobbed you of your youth. Yours was the suffering and mine the crime. I\nwould that I were able to mingle my blood with yours which is spilled\nhere for me.\" Then Apollo was silent, looking at the ground where\nHyacinthus' blood had stained the grass, for a wonder was happening.\n\nThe crimson stain on the leaves changed to royal purple, and the stem\nand foliage and petals of a new flower appeared, so sweetly fragrant\nthat it filled the whole field with its perfume. There had never been so\nbeautiful a blossom as this. Touching its wax-like flowers, Apollo knew\nthat the gods had comforted him in his sorrow. His friend would live\nalways in the flower that had sprung where he fell on Parnassus, our\nhyacinth, the promise of the spring.\n\n\n\n\nHOW KING MIDAS LOST HIS EARS.\n\n\nThey needed a new king in the country of Phrygia in Asia and there was\nan old saying at the court that some day they would have a ruler who\narrived at the palace in a farm wagon.\n\nNo one had thought very much about this prophecy but, to the surprise of\nall, a peasant and his wife drove into the public square one day in an\nox cart, bringing their son, Midas, on the seat between them. The\npeasant's name was Gordius, and he dismounted, tying his wagon in such a\nhard knot that it looked as if he intended that the team should stay\nthere. In fact it was called the Gordian knot and it was so hard a knot\nthat it was reported that he who was able to untie it would be the ruler\nof all Asia.\n\nThe wagon remained there, just outside the palace gates, securely\nfastened, and Gordius and his wife walked home leaving Midas. It was so\nexactly an interpretation of the prophecy that Midas was made king and\nput upon the throne of Phrygia.\n\nHe had every opportunity of being a ruler of parts, for his humble\nbirth would not have interfered at all, but Midas, from the very\nbeginning of his reign, used his power to satisfy his own wishes instead\nof carrying out the will of the people.\n\nBacchus, with vine leaves twisted about his curling locks and a goblet\nof the purple juice of the grape always in his hand, was the god of the\nvineyards. King Midas made the acquaintance of Bacchus, who was a\nfriendly, peaceful god and fond of human companionship. And Bacchus\nunexpectedly offered Midas his choice of any wish that he cherished.\n\nWhat did King Midas ask but that whatever he touched might be turned to\ngold!\n\nHe hardly believed that Bacchus would be able to grant the gift of such\ngreedy power as this, and Bacchus wished that Midas had made a better\nchoice. The god consented, though, and King Midas hurried off to test\nhis gift alone so that he need not share it with anyone. He could not\nbelieve his eyes when he discovered that the twig of an oak, which he\npulled from a branch, turned in his fingers to a bar of solid gold. He\npicked up a stone; it turned to a gold nugget. He touched a piece of\nsod; it became a mass of gold dust, thick and heavy. He snatched an\napple from an orchard tree; it was as if he had robbed the gardens of\nHesperides of one of their apples of gold. King Midas' joy knew no\nbounds. He hurried home and ordered his servants to prepare and serve a\nmost costly and elaborate feast for him in celebration of his new found\ngift of gold.\n\nHe was hungry and could scarcely wait to eat; he almost snatched a piece\nof white bread to begin his meal. What was King Midas' surprise to see\nthe bread harden into a slab of yellow metal in his hands. He lifted a\ngoblet of creamy milk to his lips and it congealed into a thick, molten\nliquid of gold. It was so with whatever King Midas tried to eat; fowls,\nfruit, cakes, all were changed to gold before he had a chance to even\ntouch the food with his lips. He was faced in the midst of all his\nwealth with death by starvation.\n\nRaising his arms, shining with gold, in supplication to Bacchus, Midas\nbegged that he might be saved from his own power of glittering\ndestruction.\n\nAlthough the gods were able to grant gifts, it was not possible for\nBacchus to relieve a man from the dangers of his own use of a godly gift\nunless he, himself, helped. Bacchus was too kind hearted, however, to\nleave the foolish king to his fate so he consented to show him a way out\nof his dilemma.\n\n\"Go,\" he told Midas, \"to the River Pactolus. Follow its winding course\nto the fountain head and then plunge your body and head in its waters to\nwash away your greed and its punishment.\"\n\nIt was a long and difficult journey for King Midas whose joints, even,\ncreaked and were stiff with the golden metal into which they had\nchanged, and who could find no food or any bed on the way that was not\nat once transformed to gold the instant he touched it. He was obliged to\nflee and hide from robbers who pursued this fugitive form of gold. At\nlast, however, he came to the river, immersed himself in it, and had the\nrelief of feeling his stiff, glittering body soften to its natural flesh\nagain.\n\n\"I have had enough of the power of gold,\" Midas said when he returned\nto his court. \"From this time I shall avoid all riches and live in the\ncountry.\"\n\nSo King Midas acquired a farm and took his court there, becoming a\nworshipper of Pan, the goat-footed god of the fields.\n\nThe god Pan was the merriest and almost the best beloved of all the\ngods, for his domain was the whole of the beautiful, wide outdoors. He\nwas a wanderer of the mountains and valleys through all the seasons,\npeering into the grottos where the shepherds lived, amusing himself by\nchasing the nymphs, and bringing laughter and merriment wherever he\nwent. The stump of a tree with its shaggy roots was Pan's pillow and the\ndusky leaves his only shelter.\n\nNo one on the earth was safe from the wiles of Pan. One summer day\nDiana, the huntress, was roaming through a forest when she heard a\nrustle of leaves in the path behind her. Turning, she saw the dark,\nmocking face of Pan and his horned head and hairy body. Diana fled and\nPan followed.\n\nPan must have known it was a goddess whom he pursued, for Diana's\nhunting horn and her bow were of silver like the moon whose deity she\nwas, but this did not stop him. On he went as Diana ran in terror from\nhim until they came to the bank of a river. Here Pan overtook her and\nDiana had only time to call to her friends, the water-nymphs, for aid\nwhen the god clasped her in his arms.\n\nBut it was not Diana he had caught. He held a tuft of dripping water\nreeds in his hands through which the nymphs had allowed the goddess to\nescape. Pan held up the reeds and breathed a sigh through them because\nof the failure of his prank. The reeds gave out a lovely melody. Pan was\ncharmed with the novelty and the sweetness of the music. He took some of\nthe reeds of unequal lengths and, placing them side by side, he bound\nthem together. So he made his pipes on which he learned to play tunes\nlike the singing of birds and the babbling of brooks.\n\nKing Midas enjoyed his life in the country, and he made the acquaintance\nof the god Pan as he had that of Bacchus. He encouraged Pan in his\ntricks and flattered him by telling him how well he played his pipes.\n\n\"If you think me skilful, King Midas, it is possible that I may\nchallenge Apollo in a contest of musical skill,\" Pan boasted.\n\n\"It would be an excellent idea,\" King Midas replied.\n\nMidas should have known better and so should the frolicsome, reckless\nPan. Apollo's lute was the musical instrument of the heavens and Pan's\npipes could play only the tunes of earth, but Pan sent for Apollo and\nthe god of light and song descended to a green field where the contest\nwas to be held. Tmolus, the mountain god, was chosen to be the judge and\nat a signal Pan played the rustic melody on his pipes which was all he\nknew, and which greatly pleased King Midas who sat near to listen.\n\nThen Apollo rose, crowned with laurel and wearing a robe of Tyrian\npurple that swept the ground. He struck the strings of his lyre and\nearth was filled with the music of the gods. The mountain-god swept away\nthe trees that surrounded him so that he could listen better, and the\ntrees themselves leaned toward Apollo in wonder and homage. When the\nmusic stopped, the strings still vibrated making the hills carry and\necho the harmony to the skies. The mountain-god awarded the victory in\nthe unequal contest to Apollo, but King Midas objected.\n\n\"I like better the music of Pan's pipes,\" he said. \"I question the\njudgment of Tmolus.\"\n\nPoor old Midas, still self centered and earthly! Apollo could not suffer\nsuch a depraved pair of ears to wear human form any longer. He touched\nMidas' ears and they began to lengthen, to move where they joined his\nhead, and they grew heavy inside and outside. Midas had the ears of an\nass!\n\nSuch a mortification for a king to have to bear! Indeed King Midas could\nnot stand it alone, and he told the secret of his odd ears to the court\nhair-dresser in order to get his help in disguising them.\n\n\"But on pain of death do not tell anyone about my ears!\" Midas\ncommanded.\n\nThe hairdresser cut the King's hair so as to cover up the flopping ass's\nears and he even fashioned a large turban to further conceal them, but\nhe couldn't keep such a good secret. He went out into a meadow, dug a\nhole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the secret into it.\nThen he carefully covered it up.\n\nIn a very short time a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow in the\nexact spot where the hairdresser had buried the secret of King Midas'\ndisgrace. As soon as the reeds had grown high enough to be played upon\nby the breezes they began to whisper the story of the king who had to\nfinish his reign with a pair of asses' ears instead of his own, because\nof his self will. And it is said that the meadow reeds, blown by the\nwind, tell the story of King Midas to-day.\n\n\n\n\nHOW MERCURY GAVE UP HIS TRICKS.\n\n\nApollo was in great trouble, for he had lost one of the herds of cattle\nhe owned upon the earth. He knew the exact spot where he had left them\nthe night before in a pasture of Arcadia, but when he rode out the next\nmorning in his chariot of light with the first dawning of the day, the\nherd had disappeared. He searched the country for leagues about, but was\nunable to find a single trace of the cows. There was not even one hoof\nprint to tell where they had gone.\n\nAs Apollo searched, he met a farmer of that country named Battus, whose\neyes were fairly popping out of his head with wonder.\n\n\"Have you seen a straying herd of cattle in these parts, rustic?\" Apollo\nasked him. \"I have lost my best herd, and can find trace of neither hoof\nor hide of one of them.\"\n\n\"I saw strange doings last evening with a herd,\" Battus replied. \"The\nnight was dark and cloudy, and I went out to see if my flock of sheep\nwas safely fastened in the fold. What I saw was like one of the tricks\nthat Pan and his family of Satyrs plays, but I doubt if even they have\nsuch witching powers. I do believe that I must have dreamed it.\"\n\n\"Tell me what you saw with no further words,\" Apollo commanded the\nfarmer impatiently.\n\n\"It was in the middle of the night,\" Battus explained. \"As I passed a\nfield where a fine herd of cattle was at rest I saw a child coming as\nswiftly and as surely over the grass as if he had wings. Once in a while\nhe stopped and gathered a handful of broom straw, sorting it into\nbunches and tying it with dried grass. Presently the child came to the\nherd, and he tied a bunch of straw to the hoof of each cow. Then he\ndrove the entire herd backward toward the cave of Pylos that you know is\nbut a short distance from here. I followed him for part of the way, but\nI lost them, for the child went with the speed of the wind. I could not\nfind their trail again, because they left not a single foot print. The\nbrooms on their hoofs swept their track clean.\"\n\n\"A trick played on me, of the circle of the gods!\" Apollo exclaimed,\nhis eyes dark with anger and the rays of light he wore about his head\nsending off sparks of fire. And without so much as thanking Battus for\nhis information, Apollo drove with the swiftness of lightning to the\ncave of Pylos. There was his herd feeding peacefully outside, and as\nApollo forced his way into the cave, he saw the mischievous little boy\nwho had been the cause of all the trouble.\n\nHe was still fast asleep and he was quite alone, for he had been born in\nthat cave and knew no other home. Apollo shook him, and he opened a pair\nof the brightest, most roguish eyes that ever were seen in the earth or\non Mount Olympus either. But when he spied Apollo, he closed them again,\npretending that he was asleep, for, like most people who use their\nclever wits to make trouble for others, he didn't want to be found out.\nIt was Mercury, and he had begun as early as this to play tricks on even\nthe gods.\n\n\"What do you mean by driving away the herds of Arcadia to this lonely\nspot?\" Apollo asked Mercury angrily. \"Do you not know that the\ninhabitants of the country depend on them for food and that the gods,\ndescending to earth, have need of cream and curds?\"\n\nBut Mercury said not a word. He only shrugged his small shoulders and\nsqueezed his eyes more tightly shut.\n\n\"Well, you shall be punished as you deserve,\" Apollo said, quite losing\nhis patience, and he picked up Mercury, not very gently, and dropped him\ninto his chariot. Then he drove off with him as fast as he could\nstraight up to the throne of Jupiter, the king of the gods, on Mount\nOlympus.\n\nIt must have been quite an ordeal, particularly for a little boy like\nMercury. Jupiter's throne was very high and quite blinded his eyes with\nits flashing gold and precious stones, and there were piles of\nthunderbolts close by all ready to throw if the need arose. And Jupiter\nhimself wore a very dark frown when Apollo told him of the trick that\nMercury had played.\n\n\"He shall be thrown--\" Jupiter began, having in mind the punishment of\ndenying Mercury the fellowship of the gods, but just then Mercury looked\nthe king of the gods straight in the eyes, and Jupiter looked back. Then\nJupiter started, for he saw that Mercury was, himself, a god. He might\nbe, just then, a very naughty and young god, but it seemed as if he\ncould do great deeds if only he were to make up his mind to. Jupiter\ncalled Mercury close to his throne and spoke to him.\n\n\"I, myself, have lost a cow,\" he told Mercury. \"In fact she is not\nreally a cow at all, but a beautiful maiden named Io, in disguise, and I\nunderstand that she lives upon the earth guarded by a watchman named\nArgus who has a hundred eyes. I should like to rescue the lovely Io and\nrestore her to her proper form, but Argus never closes all of his eyes\nat once. He sleeps with as many as fifty of them open. Could you help me\nin this matter, do you suppose?\"\n\nMercury stood up very straight as he said,\n\n\"I will try.\"\n\n\"You may need help, lad,\" Apollo said, forgetting his anger in his\ninterest at this great adventure Mercury was going to attempt. \"Take\nthese,\" and he gave the young god some very useful presents, a golden\ndivining rod made in a design of two twined serpents, and a pair of\nwings for his feet and a pair also for his cap.\n\nAs Mercury took the golden rod in his hand and fastened on his wings,\nhe suddenly grew very tall and of almost the stature and pattern of the\ngods. He was their messenger now, and he knew that he had quicker wits\nand more shrewdness than any of them. He set out at once for the green\nfields of Arcadia where Io was pastured.\n\nAnd there was old Argus guarding her with all his hundred eyes. He let\nthe little heifer feed during the day, but when night came he tied a\nrough rope around her neck. She longed to stretch out her arms and\nimplore freedom of Argus, but she had no arms to stretch and her voice\nwas only a loud bellow that frightened even herself. Her father and her\nbrothers fed her tufts of grass but did not know who she was. No wonder\nMercury made haste to come to Io's help, laying aside his wings when he\nreached Argus and keeping only his wand. On the way he borrowed the\npipes of Pan and brought a flock of sheep so that he appeared before\nArgus as only a wandering shepherd.\n\nArgus listened to the music of the pipes with the greatest delight, for\nhe had never heard them before. He called to Mercury as he strolled\nalong.\n\n\"Come and take a seat by me on this stone,\" he begged. \"There is no\nbetter grazing ground in all Arcadia than this.\"\n\nSo Mercury sat down beside Argus and played to him as long as he wished,\nand then he told him stories all the rest of the day until the sun had\nset and it was starlight and Io still grazed nearby without being tied.\nAs the night wore on and Mercury still soothed Argus with his music and\nhis tales, one by one his hundred eyes closed. At the first streak of\ndawn, the last eye was shut, and Mercury led Io away to Jupiter to be\nrestored to her proper shape. He did something else too. He gave Juno\nall of Argus' eyes as a present, which pleased her so much that she put\nthem for ornaments in the tail of her peacock. You may see them there\nto-day.\n\nSo Mercury was safe in the good graces of the gods. They began giving\nhim unusual things to do, such as taking Pandora and her enchanted box\ndown to the earth, carrying new suits of armor to the heroes, and taking\noff the chains which Mars, the clumsy god of war, had made for his own\nuses but had become bound with himself. These commissions were little\nmore than fun for Mercury, and they made him feel so important that he\nbegan playing tricks again.\n\nAlmost all the gods had their own particular treasures which were, in a\nway, the marks of their authority and power. They grew to depend on\nthese and to feel that they could not carry on their good works without\nthem. And what did that rascal, Mercury, do but take Venus' jewelled\ngirdle, Jupiter's sceptre, Mars' best sword, Vulcan's tongs, and\nNeptune's trident, and either hide them or try to make use of them\nhimself for a while. Then he would manage to make up in some way for his\nmischief and smooth the whole matter over. It caused a great deal of\nanxiety and inconvenience among the gods and at last they sent Mercury\ndown to earth once more to act as a guide to the heroes when they\nundertook dangerous adventures.\n\nSo Mercury took his winged way from one end of the world to the other.\nWhenever there was a hazard where skill and dexterity were needed as\ngreatly as courage, Mercury was there. His journeys took him to the\nislands of Greece and to many foreign lands, and in these travels he\nnever lost a chance to direct travellers and strangers who had lost\ntheir way.\n\nMercury was so busy that he forgot to play tricks on either the gods or\nmen, and after a while he was accepted as a member in good standing of\nthe family of the gods. The people of Greece had reason to worship\nMercury because of something very helpful that he did for them.\n\nThere was a place in Greece where several roads met. It was really such\na place as is known as the cross-roads now, and dangerous. A traveller\non foot was not able to see the approach of a swiftly driven chariot,\nand a stranger might easily lose his his way, for the roads were not\nmarked. Mercury set up the first sign post here at the cross-roads with\nplain directions telling where each one of the roads led.\n\nThe Greeks placed sign posts in honor of Mercury at every crossing of\nthe roads after that, much more beautiful than ours because they were\nmade in the form of marble pillars with a head of Mercury in his winged\ncap at the top. Every man who came to one of these first sign posts was\nasked to place a stone beside it as an offering to Mercury. The stones\nwere greatly appreciated by this god of speed, for they helped in\nclearing the fields and making the roads easier to travel. Commerce and\nbusiness were beginning. Loads of timber and grain and wool and fruits\nwere carried in huge ox carts to the sea to be loaded in ships, and\nMercury wanted good roads as a help to commerce.\n\nMercury turned out very well indeed, in spite of his bad beginning. It\nhad depended upon how he used his wits, whether or not he helped the\nworld or hindered it.\n\n\n\n\nA LITTLE ERRAND GIRL'S NEW DRESS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a child of the gods named Iris who had many\nvery interesting relatives. On her mother's side was the Pleiades\nfamily, daughters of old Atlas who held the earth on his shoulders and\nnymphs in the train of Diana, the huntress. Diana was to be seen in the\nsilvery moon of the night sky, and the Pleiades surrounded her there,\nseven shining stars.\n\nIris had a most distinguished grandfather, Oceanus, the sea god. So she\nspent part of her time in the sky with the Pleiades and part in the\nocean with her grandfather. It was very interesting to be in either\nplace, for she loved the bright lights of the heavens, and the coral\npalaces of the sea made delightful places to explore.\n\nAll of her family loved Iris, and it is surprising that she was not\nspoiled with the amount of freedom she had, going here and there between\nearth and sky without any one saying no to her. But Iris had been well\nbrought up, and she began when she was still quite small making herself\njust as useful as she possibly could.\n\nAt that time another child of the gods, Proserpine, had made a great\ndeal of trouble by straying away from home and being kidnapped by Pluto.\nHer mother Ceres, the goddess of the fields, had to neglect her work for\na long time as she searched for Proserpine, and the earth grew dry and\nbarren in her absence. As Iris took her way from the sky to the sea and\nthen back again, she felt sorry for the grain, the fruits and the\nflowers that were withering, and she did wish that she might help them.\n\nOne summer day Iris was paying a visit to Oceanus, her grandfather, and\nhaving a most beautiful time riding the crest of the waves on a\nfrolicsome dolphin. The sea was covered with soft, light vapor and when\nit was time for Iris to go home to the sky in order to be there in time\nto help light the lamps of the Pleiades, she wrapped herself all about\nwith this fleecy vapor. Still wearing it like a cloak, Iris reached the\nsky when a most unusual thing happened. It was so cool up there among\nthe clouds that the sea foam turned to raindrops. Iris had to hurry\naway or she would have been wet through. Leaning over the edge of a\ncloud bank to see what was happening, she discovered that a shower of\nrain was falling to cool the earth and comfort it a little in its\ncondition of drought.\n\nIris could travel with the speed of the wind from one end of the world\nto the other, and after that she busied herself searching for thirsty\nplants and trying to help them. She would descend to the ocean, a lake\nor a river, wherever she might be, and carry vapor that was full of\nwater to the sky from which it dropped to earth to nourish all growing\nthings. The farmers looked upon Iris as their most important help, and\nat last the news of her good works came to the ears of the gods on\nOlympus.\n\nThe gods had one messenger, Mercury, who wore wings on his heels and\nalso on his cap. He was so swift that he was detailed to carry out the\nmost difficult and delicate errands of the gods such as taking new suits\nof armor to the warriors of Greece, guiding the heroes, and even\nrescuing Mars, the god of war, when he once found himself bound by the\nchains he had designed for others. But one never knew exactly how\nMercury would carry out a commission. He liked to linger with Pan in the\nwoods and forests, giving as an excuse the care of young Bacchus, god of\nthe vine, whom he must guard.\n\nSo the gods decided that they would have an errand girl who would live\non Olympus and leave the habitation of the gods only when it was\nnecessary to go to man as a guide and adviser.\n\nThat was the high trust which was given Iris by the gods. She had to use\nher own judgment to quite an extent as to when and where she was most\nneeded by the dwellers of the earth, and how she could best help them.\nOne day she noticed something happening in the kingdom of her\ngrandfather.\n\nA ship glided out of a harbor, the breeze playing among the ropes, and\nthe seamen drew in their oars and hoisted their sails. The night drew\non, the sea began to whiten with swelling waves, and the east wind blew\na gale. The captain gave orders to strengthen the ship and reef the sail\nbut none of the sailors could hear his voice above the roar of the wind\nand the sea. The cries of the men, the rattling of the shrouds, and the\nbreaking surf mingled with the thunder. Then the swelling sea seemed to\nbe lifted up to the heavens, to scatter its foam among the clouds, and\nthen sink away to the bottom.\n\nThe ship could not stand the storm; it seemed like a wild beast charged\nupon by the spears of the hunter. There came a flash of lightning,\ntearing the darkness asunder, and illuminating all with its glare. It\nshattered the mast and broke the rudder, and the triumphant surge,\nrising over the ship, looked down on the wreck, then fell and crushed it\nto fragments. As the ship went down, the captain cried out in longing,\n\n\"Halcyone!\"\n\nThen Iris, who could see beyond and through the darkness, had a vision\nof the beautiful Queen Halcyone, of Sicily, who mourned her shipwrecked\nhusband, the captain of this ship.\n\nWithout a moment's hesitation, Iris set out for the palace of Somnus,\nthe king of sleep. It was a long and dangerous journey. Even Apollo did\nnot dare to approach it at dawn, noon, or evening. It was set in a\ncountry where the light glimmered but faintly, and clouds and shadows\nrose out of the ground. No wild beast, or cattle, or tree moved by the\nwind, or any sound of voices broke the stillness, but the river Lethe\nflowed through it, rippling with a low kind of lullaby.\n\nIris approached the home of Somnus very timidly. All the way there were\nfields of poppies and the herbs from which Night distilled sleep to\nscatter over the darkened earth. There was no gate to the palace to\ncreak as it opened, or any watchman. So this little errand girl of the\ngods went inside and made her way to the room where there was a throne\nof black ebony draped with dusky plumes and curtains. On the throne\nreclined Somnus, scarcely opening his eyes, and with his hair and beard\ncovering him like a mantle.\n\nIris knelt before him,\n\n\"Somnus, gentlest of the gods, and soother of careworn hearts,\" she\nsaid, \"will you not allow me to despatch a dream to Halcyone about her\nhusband whom she mourns. See these dreams that lie around you, as many\nas the harvest bears stalks, or the forest leaves, or the seashore\ngrains of sand! Can you not spare one beautiful dream for Halcyone?\"\n\nSomnus called his servant, Morpheus, who selected a dream and flew,\nmaking no noise with his wings, until he came to the city of Trachine\nwhere Halcyone could not sleep, but lay and tossed and wept in terror at\nthe thought of what might have happened to her husband's ship. And at\nthat moment Halcyone fell into a deep and happy dream in which she saw\nher husband. He stood beside her couch and spoke to her.\n\n\"The stormy winds have sunk my ship in the Aegean Sea,\" he told\nHalcyone, \"let me not be alone. Arise and come with me!\"\n\nIt was the most enlightening dream that Somnus could have sent. Halcyone\nleft off her lamentations and implored the gods that she be allowed to\njoin her husband, and the pitying gods turned them both into birds. They\nbecame the Halcyone gulls of the sea, riding the surf together, guarding\ntheir nest that floated upon the sea, and never again separated.\n\nAs soon as she felt sure that her errand was safely accomplished, Iris\nmade haste to leave the domain of Somnus, for she felt its drowsiness\ncreeping over her. She tried not to crush any of the sleep producing\nherbs as she went, and she was careful not to pick a single poppy. At\nlast she was safely outside the boundaries, and then she could hardly\nbelieve what she saw, for a wonder had happened to her.\n\nThe gods had built her a long bridge that arched from the earth to the\nsky and over which she could go home to Olympus. It was made of colored\nstones, the ruby, the topaz, the emerald, the sapphire, and the\namethyst. Row upon row the glistening stones of the arch made a bright\npath for Iris' feet. She passed along it, the light of the brilliant\ngems scintillating about her, and when she came to the abode of the\ngods, Iris found another surprise. There was a beautiful new dress\nwaiting for her there.\n\nIt had the same colors as those of the precious stones that made the\nbridge, crimson, orange and yellow, green, blue, and violet and so\nmarvellously blended that they seemed to be one pattern and one piece of\nbrightness. There were wings that went with the dress, and when Iris put\nit on not even Juno had so beautiful a garment.\n\nIris wore her dress of colors as she took her way along her arched\nbridge from Olympus to earth and then back again. And her errands were\nthose of help and courage and bright hope.\n\nHave you guessed who she was? Why, of course you have, for you see her\nbridge of colors in the sky after a shower when the sun is shining\nthrough the clouds. Iris was the child of the gods who gave us the\nrainbow.\n\n\n\n\nWHEN PROSERPINE WAS LOST\n\n\nThere were lilies and great blue violets growing wild on the banks of\nthe lake in the vale of Enna. How could a little girl resist them, and\nparticularly Proserpine whose mother was Ceres, the goddess of\nagriculture, and who had played and lived outdoors all her life?\nProserpine had been racing through the forest with some of her boy and\ngirls friends, farther than was wise.\n\n\"Don't go out of sight of our own home fields,\" Ceres had said that\nmorning.\n\nBut here was Proserpine out of sight and sound of her playmates even.\nViolets like to grow in damp, dark places, and Proserpine had followed\ntheir blue trail until she was shut in the vale of Enna by the trees.\nShe was quite alone and, suddenly, in danger.\n\nThere was the sound of racing chariot steeds and the crash of heavy\nwheels breaking the low branches and the bushes. A dark shadow made the\nvale darker than it had been before. A black chariot burst into sight,\ndrawn by black horses and driven by a man who was dressed in black from\nhead to foot. He was Pluto, the king of darkness, who had been waiting\nfor a long time for this chance to kidnap fair little Proserpine. Her\nflowers fell from her apron in which she had been holding them; she\nscreamed, but there was no one to hear her. Pluto dragged her into his\ngrasp and threw her in the chariot. The horses dashed away, and\nProserpine left the land of springtime for Pluto's dark kingdom beneath\nthe earth.\n\nPluto shouted to his steeds, calling each by name, and giving them the\nlength of the iron colored reins over their heads and necks. He reached\nthe River Cyane which had no bridge, but he struck the waters with his\ntrident and they rolled back, giving him a passage down through the\nearth to Tartarus where his throne was.\n\nIt was a prison place that they reached by way of a deep gulf, and its\nrecesses were as far beneath the level of the earth as Mount Olympus was\nhigh above their heads. A strange sound of singing came to Proserpine\nfrom the depths of the cave where Pluto led her:\n\n\n     \"Twist ye, twine ye! Even so,\n     Mingle shades of joy and woe,\n     Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife\n     In the thread of human life.\"\n\n\nAnd when Proserpine's eyes were a little more used to the dimness of the\ncave she saw three gray women, the Fates, with threads and shears,\nseated beside the throne and singing those words. One of them spun the\nthread of life, and another twisted its bright and dark lines together.\nBut the third Fate cut the threads apart whenever she liked.\n\nOther grim and terrible creatures met Proserpine's frightened gaze. The\nFuries had spread their couches there as had also Fear and Hunger. The\nHydra hissed with each one of its nine heads and the Chimaeras breathed\nfire. There was a giant with a hundred arms, and Discord whose hair was\nbound with a fillet made of vipers.\n\n\"Take me back to the light. I want to go home. Oh, I beg of you, take me\nhome!\" Proserpine cried, but her words only echoed through the vaults of\nthe kingdom of darkness. And when she tried to make her escape, her\nfrail little hands were bruised from beating against the thick iron\ndoor that shut her in.\n\nThe next morning Aurora rode through the sky to put away the stars and\ntouch the clouds with the pink color of the dawn. Looking down to the\nearth, she saw a goddess who had arisen long before the dawn and was\nhurrying up and down the earth, wringing her hands and with tears in her\neyes. She wore a chaplet woven of the golden heads of the grain, and she\nwas straight and strong and beautiful in her flowing robes of green, but\nshe did not lift her eyes from the earth, so deep was her sorrow.\n\nThat evening Hesperus, who followed in Aurora's course each sunset to\nlead out the stars, saw the same goddess. Her robes were torn and\nstained from her travels and bedraggled with the dew. She was still\nweeping, and still searching. She was going to search, without rest, all\nnight.\n\nMany others saw this goddess in the days that followed. She was always\nroaming from daylight until dark, in the open, in sunlight and\nmoonlight, and in falling showers. She was weary and sad. In such a\nplight a peasant, named Celeus, found her one day. He had been out in a\nfield gathering acorns and blackberries, and binding bundles of sticks\nfor his fire. The goddess sat there on a stone, too tired to go on.\n\n\"Why do you sit here alone on the rocks?\" Celeus asked her. He carried a\nheavy load, but he stopped to try and succor her. \"Come to my cottage\nand rest,\" he entreated her. \"My little son is very ill, and we have\nonly a most humble roof, but such as it is we will be glad to share it\nwith you.\"\n\nThe goddess rose and gathered her arms full of crimson poppies. Then she\nfollowed Celeus home.\n\nThey found deep distress in the cottage, for the little boy was so ill\nas to be almost past hope. His mother could scarcely speak for her\nsorrow, but she welcomed the wandering goddess and spread the table for\nher with curds and cream, apples, and golden honey dripping from the\ncomb. The goddess ate, but her eyes were on the sick child and when his\nmother poured milk into a goblet for him she mingled the juice of her\npoppies with it.\n\nAt last night came, and the peasants slept. Then the goddess arose and\ntook the little boy in her arms. She touched his weak limbs with her\nstrong, skilful hands, said a charm over him three times, and then laid\nhim in the warm ashes of the fire.\n\n\"Would you kill my son? Wicked woman that you are to so abuse my\nhospitality!\" the child's mother cried, awaking and seeing what the\ngoddess had done.\n\nBut just then a strange thing happened. The cottage was filled with a\nsplendor like white lightning, and a light seemed to shine from the skin\nof the goddess. A lovely perfume was scattered from her fragrant\ngarments, and her hair was as bright as gold.\n\n\"Your son will not die, but live,\" she told the wife of Celeus. \"He\nshall grow up and be great and useful. He shall teach men the use of the\nplough, and the rewards which labor can win from the cultivation of the\nsoil.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" the woman asked in amazement as she saw the boy's white\ncheeks grow rosy with new life.\n\n\"I am Ceres,\" the goddess answered, \"whose grief is greater than yours,\nfor my child is lost. I search the earth for her, and never find her.\"\nWith these words she was gone, as if she had wrapped herself in a cloud\nand floated away to meet the dawning of another day of her journey.\n\nThat was who this wanderer of the earth was, the immortal Ceres, who\nstill did not care to live without her loved little daughter,\nProserpine.\n\nShe was obliged to neglect her work of caring for the earth in her\nsearch for Proserpine, and disaster came to the land for many seasons.\nThe cattle died and no plough broke the furrows. The seed failed to come\nup. There was too much sun and too much rain. The birds stole the\nharvest, little as there was, and seeds and brambles were the main\ngrowth. Even Arethusa, the nymph of the fountain, was about to die as\nCeres, in her search, came to the banks of the River Cyane, where Pluto\nhad passed with Proserpine to his own domain. Ceres had almost given up\nhope.\n\n\"Ungrateful soil that I have clothed with herbs and fruits and grains,\"\nshe said. \"You have taken my child and shall enjoy my favors no longer.\"\n\nBut Arethusa spoke:\n\n\"Do not blame the earth, Mother Ceres,\" she said. \"It opened unwillingly\nto take your daughter. I come from the waters. I know them so well that\nI can count the pebbles in the bottom of this river, the willows that\nshade it and the violets on the bank. I was at play not long since in\nthe river and Alpheus, the god of the stream, pursued me. I ran and he\nfollowed in an attempt to keep me from going back to my home in the\nfountain. As I tried to escape him, I plunged through the depths of the\nearth and into a cavern. While I passed through the bowels of the earth\nI saw your Proserpine. She was sad, but had no look of terror. Pluto had\nmade her his queen in the realm of the dead. I have made my way back to\ntell you.\"\n\nCeres knew then that Proserpine was lost to her unless Jupiter helped in\ntaking her away from the king of darkness. She summoned her chariot and\nrode to Mount Olympus, but even Jupiter had not complete power over\nPluto.\n\n\"If Proserpine has taken food in Pluto's realm, the Fates will not allow\nher to return to earth,\" he told Ceres. \"But I will send my swift\nmessenger, Mercury, with Spring to try and bring her home.\"\n\nIn all that time Proserpine had eaten none of the rich food that Pluto\nhad set before her, only six seeds of a red pomegranate as she had\npressed the fruit to her lips to quench her thirst. But Spring, with all\nher strength that can bring new leaves and blooms from dead branches,\nwith the help of Mercury, the god of the winged shoes, brought\nProserpine the long way back to her mother for six months. The remaining\nsix months of the year, one month for each pomegranate seed that she had\neaten, Proserpine was doomed to spend as queen of Pluto's kingdom of\ndarkness.\n\nNo one, and particularly not her mother, worried very much, though,\nabout those months of darkness because of the wonders that Proserpine\nbrought when she returned to earth. Every tree that she touched with her\ngarments burst into green, and wherever her feet pressed the earth the\ngrass and wild flowers appeared and spread. Ploughing and planting were\nbegun again, and the new shoots of the corn pushed up through the\nground.\n\nIndeed, it seemed to Ceres that her other child, the corn, was telling\nthe story of lost Proserpine. The seed of the corn that is thrust into\nthe earth and lies there, concealed in the dark, is like Proserpine\ncarried off by the god of the underworld. Then Spring gives the seed a\nnew form and it appears to bless the earth, just as Proserpine was led\nforth to her mother and to the light of day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLOUGHMAN WHO BROUGHT FAMINE.\n\n\nErisichthon had made up his mind to kill the Dryad who lived in the oak\ntree.\n\nHe was one of the strongest ploughmen in all Greece, and he knew Ceres\nwho presided over the fields and her favorite Dryad of the oak tree very\nwell. The oak tree had stood for centuries in a grove in which Ceres\nloved to rest, and it was almost a forest in itself. It overtopped the\nother trees as far as they stretched above the shrubs. Its trunk\nmeasured fifteen cubits around, and it was supported upon roots that\nwere almost as strong as iron cables.\n\nIt was supposed in those old days of Greece to be a tree of wonders. It\nwas this oak that guarded the wide agricultural domain of Ceres, and the\nDryad who lived inside was one of the messengers of this goddess through\nthe farms and orchards. She was a slender, fair young creature who would\nnever grow old and carried sunbeams in her hands that brought new\ngrowth wherever she spilled them.\n\nWhen the grove was empty and still, all the other Dryads would step\nsoftly from their dwelling places in the cypress, the olive and the pine\ntrees and join hands as they danced lightly about the oak tree, singing\ntheir praises of the great Ceres who fed with her bounty the whole of\nGreece. The country people, and even those from the cities, came to pay\ntheir homage to Ceres' oak, bringing garlands of roses and laurel that\nthey hung on its boughs, and carving messages of thanks and love for the\nDryad on its bark.\n\nErisichthon knew all this, but he wanted a quantity of wood for his farm\nwithout the trouble of earning it. He decided the property of Ceres was\nhis, by right, because he had ploughed her fields at the time of the\nplanting. So Erisichthon saw no reason why he should spare the wonderful\noak tree, even if it did shelter a Dryad. He called his servants\ntogether, armed them with freshly sharpened axes, and they set out for\nthe forest.\n\nWhen they reached the oak tree, Erisichthon's men hesitated. The tree\nlooked like a temple, its wide spreading branches sheltering the other\ntrees, and its great trunk towering toward the sky like a bronze pillar.\nEach man remembered Ceres' bounty toward him, her gifts of apples and\ncorn, grapes and wheat, and best of all her offering of land that would\nbring plenty for the ploughing and planting.\n\n\"We cannot cut it. This is a tree well beloved of Ceres,\" the men said\nto their master.\n\n\"I care not whether it be a tree beloved of the goddess or not,\"\nErisichthon shouted angrily to them. \"If I cut it down I shall have no\nmore need of Ceres, for its wood will make me rich beyond the need of\nplanting. She owes me a living on account of the past seasons in which I\nhave worked for her. If Ceres herself were in my way I would cut her\ndown also!\" he exclaimed.\n\nWith this terrible threat on his lips, the lawless ploughman seized an\naxe from one of his trembling servants and began chopping the trunk of\nthe mighty tree. He had great strength, and each blow cut a deep gash.\n\nAs Erisichthon cut in toward the heart of the oak tree, that held the\nDryad, the oak began to shiver and groan, but he showed it no mercy. He\nordered his men to tie ropes to the branches and pull, and he continued\nto cut it until the tree fell with a crash that was like the sound of a\nthunderbolt, and brought down with it a great part of the forest that\nsurrounded it.\n\nAs the giant trunk lay on the ground at the feet of Erisichthon, there\nwas a sighing of the branches like that of a summer breeze passing\nthrough, and the leaves fluttered as if they had been stirred by the\nflight of a bird. It was the spirit of the Dryad whom Erisichthon had so\nhurt, taking her way to her family of the gods on Mount Olympus.\n\nThose Dryads who were left in the grove hastened to Ceres with news of\nwhat had happened.\n\n\"This man must be punished!\" they cried.\n\nCeres bowed her head in assent, and the fields of grain bowed also, and\nthe branches of the fruit trees drooped. It was the ripe time of the\nharvest, but there were no crops on the farm of Erisichthon, and Ceres\ndecreed that no neighbor should share with him.\n\nIn the northern part of Greece lay the ice topped mountains of Scythia,\na bleak, unfertile region without fruit or grain. Cold, and Fear, and\nShuddering lived there and one other, who was more to be dreaded than\nall three. This was Famine with unkempt hair and sunken eyes, blanched\nlips, and her skin tightly drawn over her sharp bones. She made her home\nin a hard, stony field where she pulled up the scanty herbage with her\nclaw-like fingers and tried to subsist on it.\n\nAfter Erisichthon had cut down the old oak tree Ceres sent to Scythia\nfor Famine.\n\nErisichthon found that it was going to be a month's task to cut up his\nwood and carry it to his farm, so he went home to rest over night,\nplanning to start the work in the morning. He felt hungry after his hard\nwork of chopping down the tree, but he had not even a pomegranate for\nhis supper. All his food had strangely disappeared. He decided to go to\nbed and try to forget his hunger in sleep.\n\n\"I will sell a load of wood in the morning for many gold coins,\" he\nthought, \"and buy food in plenty.\"\n\nSo Erisichthon lay down on his couch and was soon fast asleep. Then\nFamine sped in through the window and hovered over where he lay. She\nfolded her wings around him and breathed her poison into his veins. Then\nshe hastened back to Scythia, for she had no other errand in a land of\nplenty.\n\nErisichthon did not wake but he stirred in his sleep and moved his jaws\nas if he were eating, for he was very hungry in his dreams. In the\nmorning he woke with a raging hunger that was a hundred times worse than\nthat of the day before.\n\nHe sold his load of wood and spent all the money for whatever food the\nearth, the air, and the sea produced. He consumed vast quantities of\nfish, fowl, the flesh of lambs, fruit and vegetables; but the more\nErisichthon ate, the greater was his hunger. The amount of food that\nwould have been enough for the whole of Athens was not sufficient for\nthis man. He continually craved more.\n\nErisichthon sold the wood of the entire oak tree, and began selling\npieces of the land that made his farm in order to get food for appeasing\nhis terrible hunger. At last his fields were gone and he had to sell his\nfurniture, his tools, his books, and all his vases. Still he could not\nget food enough to appease his gnawing appetite, so he sold his house\nand lived in a tent that he set up beside the road. But his hunger was\nstill unsatisfied and in his madness Erisichthon sold his only daughter\nto be the slave of a fisherman who cast his nets beside the Aegean Sea.\n\nThe girl loved her father very dearly and her grief, as she gathered sea\nweed along the shore for her master, touched the heart of Neptune, the\ngod of the sea. He changed her to the form of a horse, and she went home\nto Erisichthon, hoping that he would look upon so fine an animal with\nfavor, and give it a home. But her father sold the horse to a chariot\nracer. She escaped and went again to the shore where Neptune changed\nher, in turn, to a stag, an ox, and a rare bird. Each time she made her\nway home, and each time her father sold her to buy food. So the bird\nflew away to Mount Olympus and was never seen again.\n\nAt last there came a day when Erisichthon could feed himself no longer.\nThere was nothing left to him in the world that he could sell, and his\nhunger was so great that he went, like a raving beast, up and down the\nbountiful fields of Ceres demanding that food be given him.\n\nBut those whom Famine touches because they break Ceres' laws, and\ndestroy life and property find no help unless they try to restore the\norder that they have hurt. Erisichthon was too weak to work, and he\ncould never raise another oak tree like that one which had been growing\nfor centuries. So he went, at last, to live with Famine in Scythia which\nwas a long way from the Mount of the gods.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEE MAN OF ARCADIA.\n\n\nStrange things were happening in a field of the beautiful country called\nArcadia. A youth who wore a wreath of green laurel leaves on his dark\nhair sat on a rock and held a lyre in his hands from whose strings he\ndrew sweet music. And as he played a wolf, who had been the terror of\nthe shepherds for many leagues around, came out of the woods and lay\ndown like a great dog at the feet of the youth. Next, the nearby olive\ntrees bent their heads to listen and then moved toward him until they\nstood in a circle at his feet. Then the hard rock on which the musician\nrested covered itself with soft green verdure and bluebells and violets\nbegan to lift their heads, growing out of its age-old stones.\n\nThis was what always happened when Orpheus, the son of Apollo, played\nthe lyre that his father had given him and had taught him to use.\nNothing could withstand the charm of his music. Not only the farmers and\nshepherds, the nymphs and fauns of Arcadian woods and fields were\nsoftened and drawn by his tunes, but the wild beasts as well laid by\ntheir fierceness and stood, entranced, at his strains.\n\nOrpheus touched his lyre again and played an even lovelier song. And out\nof the forest glided the nymph, Eurydice, taking her place near Orpheus.\nHis music had won her devotion and Hymen, the god of marriage, had made\nthe two very happy. Their deepest wish was that they might never be\nseparated.\n\nThe whole of Arcadia was charmed by Orpheus' lute. No, there was just\none person in that beautiful country who positively disliked music, and\nthat was the bee-man, Aristaeus. In fact, Aristaeus could not see the\nvalue of anything beautiful, the statues and vases in the temple of\nApollo, the tapestries the weavers decorated with so many soft colors,\nthe tints of the wild flowers, or the arch of the rainbow in the sky\nafter a shower. This bee-man could find no interest in anything except\nhis combs of yellow honey, their number, and how many gold coins he\nwould be paid for them. Not only did Aristaeus dislike beautiful\nthings, but he did not want others to enjoy them. A cross old Arcadian,\nwas he not?\n\nHe was feeling particularly disagreeable on the morning when Orpheus\nbegan playing his lute near his farm. And when Eurydice, whom Orpheus so\nloved, approached him to ask for a comb of his delicious honey for\ndinner for the two, Aristaeus entirely lost his temper. He not only\nrefused the nymph, which no one but a very stingy person could have\ndone, for she smiled at him so winningly and asked for it so politely;\nbut he chased Eurydice off his farm.\n\nNo one had treated Eurydice so rudely in all her life before. Even Pan\nhad gathered flowers for her to twine into garlands and had refrained\nfrom teasing her as he did almost all the other nymphs. And here she\nwas, a long distance from Orpheus and pursued by an ugly tempered\ncountry man! Eurydice ran like the wind, the bee-man coming fast behind\nher. She was much fleeter than he and would have reached the woods\nsafely, but she stepped suddenly on a snake that she had not seen as it\nlay coiled up in the grass. The snake stung Eurydice's bare feet and she\ndropped down on the ground.\n\n\"It serves her right!\" the bee-man said, not going to see how badly she\nwas hurt. And with that he went back to his bees.\n\nAristaeus was the very first bee-man, the myths tell us. When the gods\nmade the little creatures of the earth they made also the honey bees and\ntaught them how to build themselves homes in hollow trees or holes in\nthe rocks, to find the nectar in the flowers, and make from it their\nthick, golden honey. Aristaeus was the son of the water-nymph Cyrene,\nand he came to Arcadia with the remembrance of the music of the waters\nand the brightness of the sun in his heart, but when he discovered how\nto attract the bees to his farm and take their honey away from them and\nsell it, he forgot everything except his business. That was when he\nbegan to dislike Orpheus and to become blind to the fair country in\nwhich he lived.\n\n\"Three hives are swarming to-day,\" the bee-man thought as he came home.\n\"I ought to be able to get a good sum for the honey.\" Then, as he\nreached the orchard where his hives were placed on the wall, he looked\nabout him in amazement. Hives, bees, all were gone. Not a buzz, a\nsting, or a single drop of honey was left!\n\nAristaeus looked throughout the entire countryside for his bees for\ndays, but he could not find a single one. At last he gave up the search\nand did what a good many boys and girls would be apt to do in the same\nemergency. He went to ask the advice of his mother, the sea-nymph\nCyrene.\n\nHe went to the edge of the river where he knew she lived and called her.\n\n\"O mother, the pride of my life is taken away from me. I have lost my\nprecious bees. My care and skill have availed me nothing. Can you turn\nfrom me this blow of misfortune?\"\n\nHis mother heard these complaints as she sat in her palace at the bottom\nof the river with her attendant nymphs around her. They were busy\nspinning and weaving beautiful designs in water weeds and painting\npebbles while another told stories to amuse the rest. But the sad voice\nof the bee-man interrupted them and one put her head above the water.\nSeeing Aristaeus, she returned and told his mother, who ordered that he\nbe brought down to her.\n\nAt the command of Cyrene, the river opened itself and let him pass\nthrough, as it stood curled like a mountain on either side. The bee-man\ndescended to the place where the fountains of the great rivers lie. He\nsaw the enormous rock beds of the waters and was almost deafened by\ntheir roar as he saw them hurrying off in all their different directions\nto water the face of the earth. Then Aristaeus came to his mother's\npalace of shells and stone and he was taken to her apartment where he\ntold her his troubles.\n\nCyrene, being a dweller of the waters which are the fountain of life,\nwas very wise. She understood at once that her son had made a mistake in\nnot seeing that it was possible to combine beauty and usefulness.\nArcadia needed bees, but it needed Orpheus and his lute also, and the\ngods had punished the bee-man for his sordidness. Still, he was her son\nand Cyrene decided to try and help Aristaeus out of his difficulty.\n\n\"You must go to old Proteus, who is the herdsman of Neptune's\nsea-calves,\" Cyrene said. \"He can tell you, my son, how to get back your\nbees, for he is a great prophet. You will have to force him to help\nyou, however. If you are able to seize him, chain him at once; he will\nanswer your questions in order to be released. I will conduct you to the\ncave where he comes at noon to take his nap. Then you can easily secure\nhim, but when he finds himself in chains he will cause you a great deal\nof trouble. He will make a noise like the crackling of flames so as to\nfrighten you into loosing your hold on the chain. Or he may become a\nwild boar, a fierce tiger, a lion with ravenous jaws or a devouring\ndragon. But you have only to keep Proteus fast bound and when he finds\nall his arts to be of no avail he will return to his natural shape and\nobey your commands.\"\n\nSo Cyrene led Aristaeus to the cave by the sea and showed him where to\nhide behind a rock while she, herself, arose and took her place behind\nthe clouds. Promptly at noon old Proteus, covered with dripping green\nweeds, issued from the water followed by a herd of sea calves who spread\nthemselves out on the shore. The herdsman of the sea counted them, sat\ndown on the floor of the cave, and then in a very short time had\nstretched himself out, fast asleep. Aristaeus waited until he was\nsnoring and then he bound him with a heavy chain he had brought for the\npurpose.\n\nWhen Proteus awoke and found himself captured, he struggled like a wild\nanimal at bay. Next, he turned to flame and then, in succession to many\nterrible beasts, but Aristaeus never once let go of the chain that\nsecured him. At last he returned to his true form and spoke angrily to\nAristaeus.\n\n\"Who are you, who boldly invades my domain and what do you want?\"\nProteus demanded.\n\n\"You know already,\" the bee-man replied, \"for you have the powers of a\nprophet and nothing is hidden from you. I have lost my bees, and I want\nto have them returned to me.\"\n\nAt these words, the prophet fixed his eyes on Aristaeus with a piercing\nlook.\n\n\"Your trouble is the just reward sent you by the gods because you killed\nEurydice,\" he said. \"To avenge her death, her companion nymphs sent this\ndestruction to your bees.\"\n\n\"I killed Eurydice?\" Aristaeus asked in amazement. \"Does she no longer\nlisten to the music of Orpheus?\"\n\n\"Yes, but not in Arcadia,\" Proteus explained. \"When she was stung by\nthe viper, she was obliged to make her way alone to the dark realm of\nPluto. Orpheus sang his grief to all who breathed the upper air, both\ngods and men, and then he started out to search for Eurydice. He passed\nthrough the crowd of ghosts and entered the realm beyond the dark river\nStyx. There, in front of the throne of Pluto, he sang of his longing\nthat Eurydice might be restored to him, until the cheeks of even the\nFates were wet with tears.\n\n\"Pluto himself gave way to Orpheus' music and called Eurydice. She came\nto Orpheus, limping on her wounded foot. They roam the happy fields of\nthe gods together now, he leading sometimes and sometimes she. And\nJupiter has placed Orpheus' lyre among the stars.\"\n\nAs Proteus finished telling his story, the penitent Aristaeus fell on\nthe ground at his feet.\n\n\"What can I do to appease the anger of the gods for my wickedness?\" he\nasked.\n\n\"You may use your skill to build temples to the two in the country of\nArcadia which they so loved,\" Proteus said. \"Take your way home. Forget\nyour own gains for a while and gather stones to fit together for the\naltars.\"\n\nSo the bee-man did this, and he discovered that he came to enjoy the\nwork very much. He took pleasure in cutting and polishing the stones\nuntil they were as beautiful as those of any temple in Greece. As he\nworked in the grove that he had selected for his building he often\nthought that he detected the music of Orpheus' lyre as the birds sang,\nand the streams rippled, and the wind blew through the leaves. He found\nit very sweet indeed.\n\nOne day, shortly after his beautiful altars were built, Aristaeus found\na wonder. It was spring, when the nearby orchards were white and sweet\nwith blossoms, and there were all his honey bees returned, and busily\nstarting their hives under the shadow of the temple of Eurydice.\n\n\n\n\nWHEN POMONA SHARED HER APPLES.\n\n\nPomona was a dryad, and Venus had given her a wild apple tree to be her\nhome. As Pomona grew up under the shadow of its branches, protecting the\nbuds from winter storms, dressing herself in its pink blossoms in the\nspring time, and holding up her hands to catch its apples in the fall,\nshe found that her love for this fruit tree was greater than anything\nelse in her life. At last Pomona planted the first orchard and lived in\nit and tended it.\n\nThe dryads were those favored children of the gods who lived in the\nancient woods and groves, each in her special tree. Dressed in\nfluttering green garments, they danced through the woodland ways with\nsteps as light as the wind, sang to the tune of Pan's pipe, or fled,\nlaughing, from the Fauns. They missed Pomona in the woods, and tales\ncame to these forest dwellers of the wonders she was working in the\nraising of fruits fit for the table of the gods.\n\nShe had trees on which golden oranges and yellow lemons hung among deep\ngreen leaves. She raised citrons and limes, and even cultivated the wide\nspreading tamarind tree whose fruit was of such value to Epictetus, the\nphysician of Greece, in cooling the fires of fever. The wood folk left\ntheir mossy hiding places to peer over the wall of Pomona's orchard and\nwatch her working so busily there.\n\nThey were a strange company. Pan came from Arcadia where he was the god\nof flocks and shepherds. He had fastened some reeds from the stream\ntogether to make his pipes, and on them he could play the merriest\nmusic. It sounded like birds and the singing of brooks and summer\nbreezes all in one. With Pan came his family of Fauns, the deities of\nthe woods and fields. Their bodies were covered with bristling hair,\nthere were short, sprouting horns on their heads, and their feet were\nshaped like those of a goat. Pan was of the same strange guise as the\nFauns were, but to distinguish his rank, he wore a garland of pine about\nhis head.\n\nThese and Pomona's sisters, the dryads, watched her longingly from the\nbudding time of the year until the harvest. It was a pleasant sight to\nsee Pomona taking care of her apples. She was never without a pruning\nknife which she carried as proudly as Jupiter did his sceptre. With it\nshe trimmed away the foliage of her fruit trees wherever it had grown\ntoo thick, cut the branches that had straggled out of shape, and\nsometimes deftly split a twig to graft in a new one so that the tree\nmight bear different, better apples.\n\nPomona even led streams of water close to the roots of the trees so that\nthey need not suffer from drought. She looked, herself, a part of the\norchard, for she wore a wreath of bright fruits and her arms were often\nfull of apples almost as huge and golden as the famous apples of\nHesperides.\n\nThe dryads and the Fauns begged one, at least, of the apples, but Pomona\nrefused them all. She had grown selfish through the seasons in which she\nhad brought her orchard to a state of such bounteous perfection. She\nwould not give away a single apple, and she kept her gate always locked.\nSo the wood creatures were obliged to go home empty handed to their\nforest places.\n\nIn those days Vertumnus was one of the lesser gods who watched over the\nseasons. The fame of Pomona's fruits came to the ear of Vertumnus and he\nwas suddenly possessed of a great desire to share the orchard and its\ncare with her. He sent messengers in the form of the birds to plead his\ncause with Pomona, but she was just as cruel to him as she had been to\nthe family of Pan and to her own sisters. She had made up her mind that\nshe would never share her orchard with any one in the world.\n\nVertumnus would not give up, though. He had the power to change his form\nas he willed, and he decided to go to Pomona in disguise to see if he\ncould not win her by appealing to her pity. She was obliged to buy her\ngrain, and one day in October when the apple boughs bent low with their\ngreat red and yellow balls a reaper came to the orchard gate with a\nbasket of ears of corn for Pomona.\n\n\"I ask no gold for my grain,\" he said to the goddess, \"I want only a\nbasket full of fruit in return for it.\"\n\n\"My fruit is not to be given away or bartered for. It is mine and mine\nalone until it spoils,\" Pomona replied, driving the reaper away.\n\nBut the following day a farmer stopped at the orchard, an ox goad in\nhis hand as if he had just unyoked a pair of weary oxen from his hay\ncart, left them resting beside some stream, and had gone on to ask\nrefreshment for himself. Pomona invited him into her orchard, but she\ndid not offer him a single apple. As soon as the sun began to lower she\nbade him be on his way.\n\nIn the days that followed Vertumnus came to Pomona in many guises. He\nappeared with a pruning hook and a ladder as if he were a vine dresser\nready and willing to climb up into her trees and help her gather the\nharvest. But Pomona scorned his services. Then Vertumnus trudged along\nas a discharged soldier in need of alms, and again with a fishing rod\nand a string of fish to exchange for only one apple. Each time that\nVertumnus came disguised to Pomona he found her more beautiful and her\norchard a place of greater plenty than ever; but the richer her harvest\nthe deeper was her greed. She refused to share even a half of one of her\napples.\n\nAt last, when the vines were dripping with purple juice of the grape and\nthe boughs of the fruit trees hung so heavily that they touched the\nground, a strange woman hobbled down the road and stopped at Pomona's\ngate. Her hair was white and she was obliged to lean on a staff. Pomona\nopened the gate and the crone entered and sat down on a bank, admiring\nthe trees.\n\n\"Your orchard does you great credit, my daughter,\" she said to Pomona.\n\nThen she pointed to a grape vine that twined itself about the trunk and\nbranches of an old oak. The oak was massive and strong, and the vine\nclung to it in safety and had covered itself with bunches of beautiful\npurple grapes.\n\n\"If that tree stood alone,\" the old woman explained to Pomona, \"with no\nvine to cling to it, it would have nothing to offer but its useless\nleaves. And if the vine did not have the tree to cling to, it would have\nto lie prostrate on the ground.\n\n\"You should take a lesson from the vine. Might not your orchard be still\nmore fruitful if you were to open the gate to Vertumnus who has charge\nof the seasons and can help you as the oak helps the vine? The gods\nbelieve in sharing the gifts they give the earth. No one who is selfish\ncan prosper for long.\"\n\n\"Tell me about this Vertumnus, good mother,\" Pomona asked curiously.\n\n\"I know Vertumnus as well as I know myself,\" the crone replied. \"He is\nnot a wandering god, but belongs among these hills and pastures of our\nfair land. He is young and handsome and has the power to take upon\nhimself any form that he may wish. He likes the same things that you do,\ngardening, and caring for the ruddy fruits. Venus, who gave you an apple\ntree to be your first home, hates a hard heart and if you will persist\nin living alone in your orchard, refusing to share your apples, she is\nlikely to punish you by sending frosts to blight your young fruits and\nterrible winds to break the boughs.\"\n\nPomona clasped her hands in fear. She suddenly understood how true was\neverything that this old woman said. She had known a spring-time when a\nstorm of wind and hail had shaken off the apple blossoms, and frosts had\ntouched the fruits one fall before she had been able to pick them.\n\n\"I will open my gate to the country people and to strangers,\" she said.\n\"I will open it also to Vertumnus if he is still willing to share my\norchard and my work.\"\n\nAs Pomona spoke, the old woman rose and her gray hair turned to the dark\nlocks of Vertumnus. Her wrinkles faded in the glow of his sunburned\ncheeks. Her travel stained garments were replaced by Vertumnus' russet\ngardening smock and her staff to his pruning fork. He seemed to Pomona\nlike the sun bursting through a cloud. She had never really seen him\nbefore, having never looked at anyone except with the eyes of\nselfishness. Vertumnus and Pomona began the harvesting together, and\nthey opened the gate wide to let in those who had need of sharing their\nplenty.\n\nThen the fauns danced in and made merry to the tunes that Pan played.\nThe dryads found new homes for themselves in the trunks of the trees,\nand the seasons gave rain and sunshine in greater abundance than ever\nbefore as these two pruned, and trimmed, and grafted the trees and vines\ntogether.\n\nAchelous, the river god, took his way past the orchard kingdom of Pomona\nand Vertumnus and brought with him Plenty who was able to fill her horn\nwith gifts of fruit for all, apples, pears, grapes, oranges, plums, and\ncitrons until it overflowed. Ever since the October when Pomona opened\nher gate and shared her apples, an orchard has been a place of beauty,\nbounty, and play.\n\n\n\n\nHOW PSYCHE REACHED MOUNT OLYMPUS.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king of Greece who had three beautiful\ndaughters, but the youngest, who was named Psyche, was the most\nbeautiful of all. The fame of her lovely face and the charm of her whole\nbeing were so great that strangers from the neighboring countries came\nin crowds to enjoy the sight and they paid Psyche the homage of love\nthat was due to Venus herself. Venus' temple was deserted, and as Psyche\npassed by the people sang her praises, and strewed her way with flowers\nand wreaths.\n\nVenus had a son, Cupid, who was dearer to her than any other being on\nMount Olympus or in the earth. Like every mother, Venus had great\nambitions for the future of her son, but she was not always able to\nfollow him, for Cupid had wings and a golden bow and arrows with which\nhe was fond of playing among mortals. What was Venus' wrath to discover\nat last that Cupid had lost his heart to Psyche, the lovely maiden of\nearth! It was like a fairy story in which a prince marries a peasant\ngirl and may not bring her home to the palace because of her mean birth.\nVenus quite refused to recognize Psyche or award her a place in the\nhonored family of the gods.\n\nCupid and Psyche had a very wonderful earthly palace in which to live.\nGolden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls of the\napartments of state were richly carved and hung with embroidered\ntapestries of many colors. When Psyche wished food, all she had to do\nwas to seat herself in an alcove when a table immediately appeared\nwithout the aid of servants and covered itself with rare fruits and rich\ncakes and honey. When she longed for music, she had a feast of it played\nby invisible lutes, and with a chorus of harmonious voices. But Psyche\nwas not happy in this life of luxury, for she had to be alone so much of\nthe time. Venus could not take Cupid away from her altogether, but she\nallowed him to be with Psyche only in the hours of darkness. He fled\nbefore the dawn.\n\nThere had been a direful prophecy in Psyche's family of which her\nsisters had continually reminded her.\n\n\"Your youngest daughter is destined for a monster whom neither gods nor\nmen can resist,\" was the oracle given to the king, and the memory of it\nbegan to fill Psyche's heart with fear. Her sisters came to visit her\nand increased her fear. They asked all manner of questions about Cupid,\nand Psyche was obliged to confess that she could not exactly describe\nhim because she had never seen him in the light of day. Her jealous\nsisters began at once to fill Psyche's mind with dark suspicions.\n\n\"How do you know,\" they asked, \"that your husband is not a terrible and\nvenomous serpent, who feeds you for a while with all these dainties that\nhe may devour you in the end? Take our advice. Provide yourself with a\nlamp well filled with oil and tonight, when this villain returns and\nsleeps, go into his apartment and see whether or not our prophecy is\ntrue.\"\n\nPsyche tried to resist her sisters, but at last their urging and her own\ncuriosity were too much for her. She filled her lamp, and when her\nhusband had fallen into his first sleep, she went silently to his couch\nand held the light above him.\n\nThere lay Cupid, the most beautiful and full of grace of all the gods!\nHis golden ringlets were a crown above his snowy forehead and crimson\ncheeks, and two wings whose feathers were like the soft white blossoms\nof the orchard sprang from his shoulders. In her joy at finding no cause\nfor her fears, Psyche leaned over, tipping her lamp, that she might look\nmore closely at Cupid's face. As she bent down, a drop of the burning\noil fell on the god's shoulder. He opened his eyes, startled, and looked\nup at Psyche. Then, without saying a word, he spread his wide wings and\nflew out of the window.\n\nPsyche tried to follow him, but she had no wings and fell to the ground.\nFor one brief moment Cupid stayed his flight and turned to see her lying\nthere below him in the dust.\n\n\"Foolish Psyche,\" he said, \"why did you repay my love in this way? After\nhaving disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, could you\nnot trust me? I will inflict no further punishment upon you than this,\nthat I leave you forever, for love cannot live with suspicion.\" And with\nthese words Cupid flew out of Psyche's sight.\n\nThat was the beginning of the long road of trouble Psyche had to\nfollow. She wandered day and night, without food or rest, in search of\nCupid. One day she saw a magnificent temple set upon the brow of a lofty\nhill and she toiled the long way up to it, saying to herself,\n\n\"Perhaps my love inhabits here.\"\n\nWhen Psyche reached the top of the hill and entered the temple, she saw\nheaps of corn, some in sheaves and others in loose ears, and there was\nbarley mingled with it. There were sickles and rakes and all the other\ninstruments of the harvest scattered about in great confusion as if the\nreapers, at the end of the sultry day, had left them in this disorder.\nIn spite of her sorrow, Psyche could not bear to see this disarray and\nshe began trying to set the place in order. She worked so busily that\nshe did not see Ceres, whose temple it was, enter. Turning at last,\nPsyche saw the goddess of the harvest, wearing her fruit trimmed\ngarments and standing at her side.\n\n\"Poor Psyche!\" she said pityingly. \"But it is possible for you to find a\nway to the abode of the gods where Cupid has his home. Go and surrender\nyourself to Venus and try by your own works to win her forgiveness and,\nperhaps, her favor.\"\n\nSo Psyche obeyed this command of Ceres, although it took a great deal of\ncourage, and she travelled to the temple of Venus in Thebes where the\ngoddess received her in anger.\n\n\"The only way by which you can merit the favor of the gods, unfortunate\nPsyche,\" she said, \"is by your own efforts. I, myself, am going to make\na trial of your housewifely skill to see if you are industrious and\ndilligent.\"\n\nWith these words Venus conducted Psyche to a storehouse connected with\nher temple where there was an enormous quantity of grain laid up; beans,\nlentils, barley, wheat and the tiny seeds of the millet which Venus had\nstored to feed her pigeons.\n\n\"Separate all these grains,\" the goddess said to Psyche, \"putting those\nof the same kind in a pile, and see that you finish before evening.\"\nThen she left Psyche who was in consternation at the impossible task\nspread before her.\n\nPsyche dipped her fingers into the golden heap gathering up a handful to\nsort the grains, but it took her a long time and the grain lay about her\non every side like a yellow river. The grains she held were less than a\ndrop taken from its surface.\n\n\"I shall not be able to finish. I shall never see my husband again!\"\nPsyche moaned.\n\nStill she worked on steadily and at last a little ant, a native of the\nfields, crawled across the floor and took compassion on the toiling\nPsyche. It was a king in its own domain and was followed by a host of\nits little red subjects. Grain by grain, they separated the seeds,\nhelping to put them in their own piles, and when the work was\naccomplished they vanished as quickly as they had appeared.\n\nWhen evening came Venus returned, breathing odors of nectar and crowned\nwith roses, from a banquet of the gods. When she saw that Psyche's task\nwas done, she scarcely believed her eyes.\n\n\"You must have had assistance,\" she said. \"To-morrow you shall try a\nmore difficult undertaking. Beyond my temple you will see a grassy\nmeadow which stretches along the borders of the water. There you will\nfind a flock of sheep with golden shining fleeces on their backs and\ngrazing without a shepherd. Bring me a sample of their precious wool\nthat you gather from each of the fleeces.\"\n\nPsyche once more obeyed, but this was a test of her life as well as of\nher endurance. As she reached the meadow, the river god, whispering to\nher through the rushes, warned her.\n\n\"Do not venture among the flock while the sun shines on them,\" he told\nher. \"In the heat of the rising sun, the rams burn with a cruel rage to\ndestroy mortals with their sharp teeth. Wait until twilight, when you\nwill find their woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the\ntrees.\"\n\nThe compassion of the river god helped Psyche to do as Venus had\ncommanded her and she returned to the temple in the evening with her\narms full of golden fleece.\n\nStill Venus was not satisfied.\n\n\"I have a third task for you,\" she told the weary Psyche. \"Take this box\nto the realm of Pluto and give it to Proserpine saying to her, 'My\nmistress, Venus, desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in\ntending her son whom Psyche burned she has lost some of her own.' And\nmake all possible haste, for I must use it before I appear next in the\ncircle of the gods on Mount Olympus.\"\n\nPsyche felt that now her destruction was surely at hand. It was a\ndangerous road that led to the dark, underground kingdom of Pluto and\nthere were deadly dangers on the way. But Psyche was finding a new\ncourage with each of the difficulties that she had to encounter, and she\nset out with the box. She passed safely by Cerberus, Pluto's three\nheaded watch dog. She prevailed upon Charon, the ferryman, to take her\nacross the black river and wait for her while she begged Proserpine to\nfill the box. Then she started back to the light again.\n\nAll would have gone well with Psyche if she had not grown curious. That\nwas why her road to the dwelling place of the gods was so long and\ndifficult. Psyche was always mixing up a little bit of earth with her\ngood intentions. Having come so far successfully with her dangerous\ntask, she wanted to open the box.\n\n\"I would take only the least bit of this beauty from Venus,\" Psyche\nthought, \"to make myself more fair for Cupid if I ever behold him\nagain.\"\n\nSo she carefully opened the box, but there was nothing in it of beauty\nat all. It was a potion that caused Psyche to fall beside the road in a\nsleep which seemed to have no waking. She did not stir, or breathe, or\nremember.\n\nIt was there that love, in the form of Cupid found Psyche. He was healed\nof his wound, and he could not bear her absence any longer. He flew\nthrough a crack in the window of the palace of Venus and made his way to\nearth and straight to the spot where Psyche lay. He gathered the deadly\nsleep from her body and put it fast inside the box again. Then he\ntouched her lightly with one of his arrows and she woke.\n\n\"Again you have almost perished because of your curiosity,\" he said as\nPsyche reached up her arms to him \"but perform exactly this task which\nmy mother asked of you and I will attend to the rest.\"\n\nThen Cupid, as swift as a bird flies, returned to Mount Olympus and\npleaded with Jupiter for a welcome for Psyche. Jupiter consented at last\nto have this daughter of earth admitted to the family of the gods and\nMercury was sent to bring her and offer her the cup of ambrosial nectar\nthat would make her one of the immortals.\n\nIt is said that at the moment when Psyche completed her tasks and took\nher departure for Mount Olympus a winged creature, the butterfly, that\nhad never been seen before on earth, arose from a garden and flew on\ngolden wings up toward the sun. So it was thought that the story of\nPsyche was the story of the butterfly who bursts its gray house of the\ncocoon and rises, with a new beauty and the power of wings, toward the\nsky. And the Greeks had still another name for Psyche whom neither her\ntroubles or the sleep of Pluto could keep from the abode of the gods\nwhen Love pleaded for her. They spoke of her as the Soul.\n\n\n\n\nHOW MELAMPOS FED THE SERPENT.\n\n\nThere was a hollow oak tree in front of the house of Melampos in Greece\nand inside it was a nest of serpents.\n\nMelampos was a farmer, skilful in raising fruits and grains and full of\nlove for everything that lived out of doors. He would not so much as\ncrush an ant hurrying home to its hill with a grain of sand, and\nalthough he did not particularly like snakes he saw no harm in these\nthat had made themselves a home in a tree that no one wanted.\n\n\"They will do us no hurt unless we disturb them,\" Melampos told his\nservants. \"Let them alone and perhaps, when the weather is warmer, they\nwill take their way off to the neighboring marsh.\"\n\nBut Melampos' servants were not so sure as he of the harmlessness of the\nserpents.\n\n\"Our master is growing old and child like,\" they said to each other.\n\"The next time he drives to the city with a load of grain we will get\nrid of the nest of vipers.\"\n\nSo that was what they did. In Melampos' absence they fired the nest of\nthe serpents with a torch and burned it up completely, as they thought.\nBut when Melampos returned that afternoon and sat down under his arbor\nto rest and eat his supper of bread and grapes, he saw a pair of bright\nblack eyes peering up at him from the grass. Then he spied a round green\nhead raised above a long green body. It was one of the young serpents\nthat had not been hurt when the nest was burned and had come to the\nmaster of the place for protection.\n\nMelampos looked cautiously around to see that no one was watching him.\n\n\"If any of the servants see me, they will think me out of my senses,\" he\nsaid to himself, \"but I am sorry for this little creature and would\nbefriend it.\" Then, seeing that he was quite unobserved, Melampos broke\noff a piece of his bread and threw the crumbs to the young serpent. It\ndevoured them to the last one and then glided off so silently that it\nleft no trail except a long line of gently moving grasses.\n\nThe next day the serpent came and the next, always hungry and always\nlifting its little head and looking at Melampos in its odd, bright way.\nOne day as Melampos broke his bread as usual to share it with the\nserpent, he heard a voice speaking to him.\n\n\"The gods have been watching your kindness, Melampos,\" it said, \"and\nhave rewarded you in the way you will like best. They have given you the\npower of understanding the tongues of the wild.\"\n\nMelampos looked all about him, but there was not another mortal within\nsight. Then his eyes caught those of the serpent and he suddenly\nrealized that it had been its voice which he had heard. That was the\nbeginning of strange experiences for Melampos upon whom the gods had\nconferred so wonderful a gift.\n\nThe serpent never returned after that day, but that very same evening a\ntree toad spoke to Melampos.\n\n\"Water your olive trees well around the roots, Melampos,\" it said, \"for\nthere is a season of drought approaching.\"\n\nThat was an excellent warning, because the farmer had a grove of young\ntrees that needed very tender care. Melampos sprayed the trees and\nsoaked the roots and felt very thankful to the tree toad for its advice.\n\nAfter a few days of dry weather Melampos was on his way to the city when\na grasshopper spoke to him from the side of the road.\n\n\"Turn back, Melampos, and gather your sheaves of wheat into your\nstorehouse,\" the grasshopper said, \"for Jupiter is about to send a\nthunderbolt down to the earth.\"\n\nThat was exactly what happened. Melampos had just time to reach his\ngrain field and order his men to put the ripe sheaves safely under cover\nwhen the sky grew black and the thunder rolled along the mountain tops.\nA high wind blew and the rain was heavy, but Melampos had saved his\nharvest.\n\nAll outdoors talked to Melampos after that, and it was very pleasant\nindeed, for he had no boys and girls of his own to keep him company. If\nhe sat down to rest on a bank of moss in the forest, he was at once\nsurrounded by friends. A little wild bee would light on a branch in\nfront of him and tell him where he might find its sweet comb dripping\nwith honey nearby. A butterfly would poise on his rough, soil stained\nhand and tell him where he would be able to see a bed of yellow\ndaffodils beside a brook. Or a bird in a nearby bush would sing to him\nof the gay doings of Pan and the dryads and tell him the road to take to\ntheir haunts farther and deeper in the woods.\n\nMelampos had never had such a good time in his life. He was an excellent\nhusbandman and managed to make his farm pay well every year, but he\ncared very much more for this friendship of outdoors than he did for the\nhoards of food each harvest gave him. And, more and more, he came to\nstay in the woods and fields, holding conversation with the insects and\nthe wild animals.\n\nOne harvest season Melampos was returning from the market with a large\npurse of gold pieces that had just been paid him for the sale of his\nsummer wheat. He was taking his way through a deserted path of the\nforest where he hoped he might hear the echo, at least, of the merry\npipes of Pan. He had not a thought or care in the world when, in an\ninstant, he was laid low on the ground from a blow on his head, his gold\nwas snatched away from him, and he was bound so tightly that he could\nnot move. Melampos had been set upon by a band of robbers who threw him\nover the back of a horse and made off with him into the recesses of the\nforest.\n\nIt was not that peaceful, sylvan grove of the forest that Pan and his\nfriends inhabited, but a dark, gloomy part where it was so still that\neven the sound of a twig falling to the ground seemed as loud as the\nsplintering of an arrow, and no one ever passed by. The robbers put\nMelampos in an underground passage of a prison-like fortress which they\nhad built for themselves. From beam to floor the fortress was built all\nof oak planks so old and thick and so completely covered with ivy on the\noutside that it looked like part of the forest itself.\n\nMelampos had only a slit in the wall for a window, and he never saw his\ncaptors save when they tossed him some dried crusts once a day. He could\nhear them, though, counting their stolen coin and rattling it about.\nThen he heard the sound of clinking armor and the occasional clashing of\nswords.\n\n\"They are planning to kill me,\" he thought.\n\nHe looked longingly at the narrow chink in his prison wall, hardly large\nenough to let a sunbeam through.\n\n\"If I could but beckon to a wood pigeon and tell it my plight, I should\nbe able to send a message to my friends by it,\" he sighed, \"or I could\nask the woodpecker who can bore through wood to try and widen my window\nso that I might escape.\"\n\nJust then Melampos heard a rustling sound in the heavy beam of the\nceiling of the room where he was imprisoned and then a small voice spoke\nto him.\n\n\"We could teach you better than any other creatures how to escape,\" it\nsaid. \"For years this forest has belonged to us, small as we are, and in\na very short time now it will return to the earth from which the trees\nthat built it came.\"\n\nMelampos was amazed. He looked in all the corners of the room but could\nsee no one. Then the voice went on.\n\n\"No wood, or men who live in shelters made of wood are safe from us. We\nhave bored the beams and timbers of this fortress in a thousand places\nuntil they are hollow and ready to fall.\"\n\nSuddenly Melampos discovered the source of the voice. Through a knothole\nin a beam above his head a wood worm peered down at him. With its\ncompanions it had eaten the planks that made the fortress until it was\nno safer than a house of paper.\n\n\"We are all doomed,\" Melampos told one of the robbers who brought him\nhis food that night.\n\n\"Doomed; what do you mean by that?\" the robber asked in terror, for like\nmost of his kind he was nothing but a coward at heart.\n\nMelampos showed him the decayed wood, hollow, and riddled with holes,\nand the man called his companions to see their danger. They decided that\nthey must flee from the fortress at once, and they decided to give\nMelampos his freedom. It would not have been safe to stay in the\nfortress another season, for almost as soon as the winter storms came it\ncrumbled like a house of sand, and the ants and the crickets used it to\nmake themselves winter shelters.\n\nMelampos went back to his farm and the pleasant conversation of the\ninsects, the birds, and his four-footed friends. He was the first mortal\nto have such friends, but there were others who followed him and found\nhappiness, also, through being kind to little wild creatures.\n\n\n\n\nHOW A HUNTRESS BECAME A BEAR.\n\n\nAlthough Juno was the queen of the gods she had a failing that is common\nto mortals. She was very jealous, and particularly of any maiden of\nEarth whom she fancied might sometime be given a place by Jupiter among\nthe great family of the gods on Mount Olympus. As soon as Juno saw\nCallisto, a beautiful huntress of the forests of Arcadia, she disliked\nher.\n\nPerhaps Juno would have liked to be free to roam through the woods where\nPan played his music for dancing and the Dryads sported from one season\nto another as Callisto did. The goddess may have envied the huntress her\nhappy, free life with no royal duties to interfere with her daily chase\nof the deer or any heavy crown to keep the breezes from tossing her long\ndark hair. Callisto reverenced Jupiter and Juno alike, with no thought\nthat she might be arousing the displeasure of the goddess, but one day a\nstrange and fearful thing happened to her.\n\nShe had just raised her bow to her shoulder ready to shoot an arrow as\nstraight as a dart through the green path of the forest when it suddenly\nstruck her hand and she fell to the moss upon her hands and knees. She\ntried to reach out her arms in supplication but they had become thick\nand heavy and were covered with long black hair. Her hands grew rounded,\nwere armed with crooked claws and served her for feet. Her voice, which\nhad been so sweet that it charmed the birds when she called to them,\nchanged to a terrifying growl.\n\nCallisto raised herself as well as she could, lifting up her paws to beg\nmercy of the gods and uttering frightful roars as she bemoaned her fate.\nShe had always been obliged to defend herself from the lions and wolves\nthat haunted the forest and she felt that she would be at their mercy\nnow. All at once, though, she understood what had happened to her. She,\nherself, was now no longer a mortal but a wild beast. Juno had persuaded\nJupiter to change Callisto to the first bear.\n\nShe had never liked to be out in the wood at night, but now she had no\nshelter and had to roam through the darkness, pursued often by the same\nwild beasts whom it had been her custom to hunt before. She fled from\nher own dogs in terror and was in hourly terror of the same arrows which\nshe had formerly aimed so straight. In the winter Callisto crawled into\nsome hollow log or dug a cave for herself that she might keep alive\nduring the season of the North Wind's reign, and when spring came she\ncrawled out, lean and weak, to search for the wild bee's comb and the\nfirst juicy berries of the juniper.\n\nOne day a boy saw the bear as he was out hunting. Callisto saw him at\nthe same time and realized that he was her own son, Arcas, now grown to\nbe a tall youth and taking his part in the chase as his mother had so\nmany seasons before. Callisto forgot her changed form in her great joy\nat seeing her son, and she arose to her hind feet and hastened toward\nhim holding out her paws to embrace him. The boy, alarmed, raised his\nhunting spear and ran to meet the bear and thrust its point through her\nheart. Callisto's son would have killed her if Jupiter had not, just\nthen, looked down on the forest from his throne and felt a sudden pity\nfor the tragedy he had brought about.\n\nThe gods had made a long road in the sky that led to the palace of the\nSun. Any one may see this road on a clear night, for it stretches across\nthe face of the sky and is known as the Milky Way. The palaces of the\nillustrious gods stood on either side of the road and a little farther\nback were placed the homes of the lesser deities.\n\nAt the very moment that Arcas, his spear raised, rushed upon Callisto,\ntwo new comers appeared in the sky near the road of the gods. They had\nthe form of a Great Bear and a Little Bear, but their bodies were made\nof brightly shining stars. The mighty Jupiter had transformed Callisto\nand her son into these two constellations.\n\nHow enraged Juno was when she found it out! She descended to the sea and\ntold her troubles to Oceanus, a giant of the race of Titans who ruled\nthe waters at that time.\n\n\"Do you wonder, Oceanus,\" Juno cried, \"why I, the queen of the gods,\nhave left the heavenly plains and seek your depths? It is because my\nauthority has been set aside. I shall be supplanted among my fellow\ngods, for Callisto, the bear, has been taken up to the skies and given a\nplace among the stars. Who can deny but that she may not occupy my\nthrone next!\"\n\n\"What would you have me do about it?\" old Oceanus asked, a little\npuzzled as to why Juno had consulted him.\n\n\"I forbade Callisto to keep her human form and my will has been unjustly\nset aside,\" Juno replied. \"Now that she has an abode on the road to\nheaven she will be able to take any form she desires and may come to you\nfor help in her attempt to steal my throne. I command you to never allow\nthe stars of her constellation to touch the waters.\"\n\nOceanus called a council of the other powers of the waters and they\nassented to Juno's decree. One after another the stars rose and set,\ntouching the sea in their courses, but the Great Bear and the Little\nBear moved ceaselessly round and round in the sky, never sinking to rest\nas the other stars did beneath the ocean. Juno had thought that this\nwould be a punishment for them but as it turned out it was a kind of\nreward.\n\nBecause the Great Bear and the Little Bear were always to be seen in\ntheir changeless, shining course, people who were obliged to travel at\nnight, and particularly those who were at sea, grew to depend upon them\nas a means of finding their way in the darkness. The last star in the\ntail of the Little Bear indicated the north and was known after a while\nas the Pole Star. The ancients called it also the Star of Arcadia, for\nit helped so many mariners to find their way home across the perilous\nwaters.\n\nIt had happened to Juno, as it often happens to jealous people to-day,\nthat she had not hurt Callisto in the least but had brought her a great\ndeal of honor.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF GLAUCUS.\n\n\nGlaucus, the fisherman, rubbed his eyes to find out if he was not\ndreaming. He had just drawn in his net to land and had emptied it, ready\nto sort the fish that lay, a large haul, all over the grass. But a\nstrange thing was happening to them. Of a sudden, the fishes began to\nrevive and move their fins exactly as if they were in the water. Then,\nas Glaucus looked at them in astonishment, the fishes one and all moved\noff to the water, plunged in, and swam away.\n\nThe spot where Glaucus fished was a beautiful island in the river, but a\nsolitary place, for it was inhabited only by him. It was not used to\npasture cattle even, or visited by anyone. No one was there to work\nsorcery with his haul. Glaucus did not know what to make of the\nhappening.\n\n\"Can it be that the river-god is working this marvel?\" he wondered to\nhimself. Then it occurred to him that there might be some secret power\nin the thick green leaves that covered the island among the grasses.\n\n\"What may not be the power of this herb?\" he asked himself, pulling up a\nhandful of the leaves and tasting one.\n\nScarcely had the juices of the plant touched Glaucus' tongue than a\nstrange feeling of restlessness filled him, and he was overcome by an\nunconquerable thirst. He could not keep away from the water but ran to\nthe edge of the river where he had fished for so many years, plunged in\nand swam away toward the sea.\n\nIt was a wonderful, free kind of experience for Glaucus who had never\nknown any life but that of hauling in his nets and then casting them\nagain. As he followed the swiftly flowing currents, the waters of a\nhundred rivers flowed over him, washing away all that was mortal of the\nfisherman, and he came at last to the sea. A marvellous sight met him\nthere. The surf that beat against a rocky shore became suddenly smooth,\nas a chariot drawn by horses shod with brass and having long floating\nmanes of gold rolled toward Glaucus over the surface of the sea. A giant\nwho held a three-pointed spear for crushing rocks and blew loud trumpet\nblasts from a great curved shell, drove the chariot toward Glaucus and\nthen stopped, inviting him to ride down to the depths of the ocean.\n\nIt was Neptune, the god of the sea, and Glaucus discovered that he felt\nquite at home in the chariot. He was no longer a dweller of the earth,\nbut had become a citizen of that boundless country that lay beneath the\nwaves. The fisherman was completely changed in form. His hair was sea\ngreen and trailed behind him through the water. His shoulders broadened,\nand his limbs took the shape and use of a fish's tail. He had never\nknown such freedom and joy as now when he spent whole days doing nothing\nbut following the ebb and flow of the tides and learning the use of his\nnewly found fins as a bird tries its wings on first leaving the nest.\n\nBut Glaucus still retained powers of thinking and of action which are\ndenied the inhabitants of the sea. One day he saw the beautiful maiden,\nScylla, one of the water nymphs, come out from a sheltered nook on the\nshore and seat herself on a rock, dipping her hands in the water and\nbringing up sea-shells for twining in the water weeds to make a\nnecklace. Glaucus had never seen so fair a creature as Scylla and he\nmoved toward her through the waves, rising at last and stopping at the\nplace where she sat as he murmured his affection for her above the\nsinging of the sea.\n\nBut Scylla was very much terrified at the sight of this strange\npersonage, half youth and half fish. She turned to run as soon as she\nsaw him and did not stop until she had gained a cliff that overlooked\nthe sea. Here she waited for a moment and turned around to look in\nwonder as Glaucus raised himself upon a rock and the sun touched his\ngreen hair and scaly covering until he shone in its light. He called to\nScylla.\n\n\"Do not flee from me, maiden! I am no monster or even a sea-animal, but\nhave been transformed from a poor fisherman to a god of the sea.\" Then\nGlaucus told Scylla the whole story of his amazing adventures and tried\nto describe to her the kingdom of Neptune with its playing dolphins, the\ncastles of rose colored and white coral, and the never ending music of\nthe waters.\n\n\"Come with me, and descend to Neptune's realm,\" he begged, but Scylla\nwould not remain to even listen. She fled and left nothing to console\nGlaucus but her scattered sea shells lying in bright heaps on the rocks.\n\nGlaucus did not pursue Scylla but he felt that he could not give her up.\nHe remembered the strange charm of the sea that there had been in the\nherbs on his native island, and he wondered if he might, by chance, find\nsome such power for giving the nymph, Scylla, the desire for the sea\nthat had drawn him to Neptune's kingdom. But Glaucus could not explore\nhis little fishing island, for it was a long way off and he had\nforgotten its direction even. So he made what proved to be an almost\ndisastrous decision. He set out for the island of Circe, the\nenchantress, to ask her help in winning Scylla.\n\nCirce was, in the beginning, a daughter of the sun but she had put her\nlight of learning to wicked uses and had made herself into a powerful\nsorceress. She lived in a palace embowered with trees and those were the\nonly signs of vegetation on her island. But if a shipwrecked crew came\nup the shores, hoping to find a welcome and timber for building a new\nbark, they were immediately surrounded by lions, tigers and wolves who\nhad formerly been men but had been changed by Circe's magic to the form\nof beasts.\n\nThe brave hero of Greece, Ulysses, came in his travels to Circe's isle\nonce, and his crew heard the sounds of lovely music coming from the\ncastle in the trees and the tones of a maiden's sweet singing. They had\nendured the raging of the sea and all its perils for many days and they\nhastened to the palace where Circe, who had the appearance of a\nprincess, greeted them and ordered a feast for them. As they ate, she\ntouched them one by one with her wand and the men were all changed to\nswine. They kept the thoughts of men, but they had the head, body, voice\nand bristles of these despised creatures, and Circe shut them up in\nsties and fed them with acorns. Ulysses persuaded the sorceress to\nrelease his men, but he, the hero, was not able to resist her charms and\nremained in her palace a year, his work and country forgotten.\n\nSurely Glaucus was setting out on a mad errand when he decided to go to\nCirce. But he persisted and landed on her island. He told her how Scylla\nhad looked upon him with terror, and he begged to have a charm by means\nof which he might make Scylla love the sea as the herb had made him a\nsubject of Neptune.\n\n\"Sooner shall trees grow at the bottom of the ocean and sea weed on the\nmountain peaks than I will cease to love Scylla and her alone,\" Glaucus\ntold Circe.\n\nThe enchantress looked on Glaucus and she began to admire him as much as\nScylla had been frightened by him. He was really quite a distinguished\nlooking personage, for he had the power to take on human form when he\nwished, and his trailing robes of green seaweed looked almost kingly.\n\n\"I will brew a potion as you wish with my own hands and carry it to\nScylla,\" Circe told Glaucus, but she had decided to work harm on the\ninnocent nymph in order to keep Glaucus forever on her island.\n\nCirce's potion was mixed of the most poisonous plants which grew on her\nisland. She blended them with deadly skill and then took her way to the\ncoast of Sicily where Scylla lived. There was a little bay on the coast\nwhere Scylla loved to come in the middle of the day when the sun was\nhigh to bathe in the cool waters. Circe poured her poison into the\nclear blue bay and muttered incantations of mighty power over it. Then\nshe returned to her island.\n\nScylla came that day as usual when the sun was high and plunged into the\nwaters up to her waist. What was her horror to discover that she was\nsinking to her shoulders and then to her head. The waters covered her\nbefore anyone heard her frightened calls for help and where she had\nstepped so happily into the waters which she loved, there were only a\nfew ripples on the surface of the bay and soon even they were gone.\nCirce's charm had taken effect and the lovable Scylla had been carried\ndown to Neptune's kingdom, but not as Glaucus had desired, for she was\nwithout motion or sight or speech.\n\nGlaucus, meanwhile, forgot Scylla in the enchantment of Circe's island\nand remained in the waters near there, taking human form when he wished\nand enjoying the luxuries of her palace. Perhaps he might never have\nremembered that he was a subject of Neptune if his attention had not\nbeen attracted one day to the wild beasts which prowled about the\nisland. They were speaking to each other with the voices of men and\nbewailing the fate by which they had been led there from their ships and\nbrought into Circe's power.\n\nGlaucus, hearing them, understood what might be in store for him. He\nbegan to hate the powers of the wicked enchantress and the memory came\nto him of Scylla as she had appeared to him on the rock, her hands full\nof bright shells. He plunged into the water and was soon a long distance\nfrom the fatal island.\n\nGlaucus began then to search for Scylla through the many leagues of the\nocean but he could not find her. That was because Scylla, through the\ndesign of Circe, had gone down as mortals do and been drowned. The sea\nwas full of such, and as Glaucus wandered about among the gardens of sea\nanemones and along the shell strewn roads of Neptune's kingdom, he felt\na new desire in his heart. He knew how those mortals felt whose loved\nones had been taken away from them by the sea, and he began using his\npower to restore the drowned to life again. For a thousand years Glaucus\nwent up and down through the sea restoring mortals who had loved to\neach other again. And in all his following of the tides he was searching\nfor Scylla.\n\nAfter a thousand years had passed and it seemed to the gods that Glaucus\nhad expiated the wrong he had done in appealing to Circe, he found\nScylla in the green depths. And the nymphs say that the two lived always\nhappily together in a coral palace with a sea garden of anemones and\ngreen water plants all about it.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN FLEECE.\n\n\nJason was having a boat built in which he planned to set sail on a kind\nof pirate expedition. He was going as far as the eastern shore of the\nBlack Sea to try and capture and bring home the Golden Fleece.\n\nThis golden fleece was a prize indeed, for it was a good deal like the\nmagic carpet in a fairy tale. In very ancient times Mercury, the god\nwith the winged shoes, had given the queen of Thessaly a ram whose\nfleece was of pure gold. There came a time when the queen found it\nnecessary to send her son away from the kingdom for safety as quickly\nand secretly as possible. So she sent him on the back of this ram, who\nleaped into the air, crossed the strait that divides Europe and Asia,\nand landed the boy without accident in Colchis in the Black Sea.\n\nEver since then its fleece of gold had hung in a sacred grove of Colchis\nguarded by a dragon who never slept. It was said that the fleece could\ncarry one through the air as far as he wished to go, and its gold was\nthe finest and purest in the world. A great many adventurers had\nequipped expeditions for getting the golden fleece, but so far none of\nthem had been successful. Jason had a different idea about it, however,\nthan any youth of Greece who had set out for the fleece before. He felt\nthat it was his right, in a way, because he was going to be a king if he\ncould bring it home.\n\nJason's uncle, Pelias, was the king of a part of Thessaly. Because the\ngolden fleece had belonged in Thessaly in the first place, Pelias had an\nidea that any king in Thessaly who could get it might keep it, and enjoy\nits magic powers. But Pelias did not want the trouble of going for it.\nHe was willing to give up his throne to the lad, Jason, if he could\nbring the golden fleece home. And Jason was quite willing to be the head\nof such a pirate expedition with the promise of this advantage at the\nend.\n\nJason did not even build his ship, but paid a vast sum of money to have\nit done for him. It was a stupendous task in those days to make a boat\nthat would weather a sea voyage. About the only boats that the Greeks\nhad were small ones shaped like canoes and hollowed out from the trunks\nof trees. Jason had decided to take fifty of his friends with him, and\nthat meant the building of a larger boat than had ever been launched\nbefore from Thessaly. A gigantic tree had to be cut down and gouged and\nshaped by hand. New looms had to be set working to weave wide enough\ncloth for the sails. For months the sound of axes and chisels echoed\nalong the beach, until at last this great boat, the Argo, was finished\nand launched, and Jason brought his friends, whom he called the\nArgonauts, to board her.\n\nJason chose his crew well. They were all fine, well born youths of\nGreece, and everyone of them made a name for himself later on. Hercules\nwas of the Argonauts, and there has never been any such strength as his.\nThere was Theseus, who could move rocks and capture robbers\nsingle-handed. There was also Orpheus, the son of Apollo, who could\ntame, wild beasts with the beautiful music of his lyre. Nestor, who grew\nup to be a famous warrior of Greece, went with them. They seated\nthemselves with their leader, Jason, in the ship, a whistling breeze\nfilled her sails, and they shot swiftly before the wind toward Colchis.\n\nIt was a long voyage, but they reached this foreign shore with no\nserious mishap, leaped onto the bank, and went at once to the king of\nColchis, demanding from him the golden fleece. The Argonauts thought in\nthe pride of their youth that no one could resist them or refuse them\nanything, but the king looked serious over the matter.\n\n\"You must earn the fleece, Jason,\" he said. \"Nothing so valuable can be\nhad for only the asking. Are you brave enough to yoke my bulls to a\nplough and plant a field full of dragon's teeth?\"\n\nJason gasped. He knew these bulls of Colchis by reputation, although it\nhad never occurred to him that he might be called upon to harness and\ndrive them. They had brazen teeth and breathed fire from their nostrils\nthat consumed whatever it touched. The sound of their breathing was like\nthe roar of a furnace, and the smoke of their breath was suffocating.\n\nIn spite of his fear, though, Jason had another thought. The king had\nsaid that the fleece must be earned, that nothing so golden could be\nhad for the asking. That was really true, Jason thought, and he began to\nfeel a great courage. He was growing into the hero that he always had\nbeen at heart, being a youth of Greece.\n\n\"Send out your bulls,\" he said to the king of Colchis.\n\nSomething happened then that is very apt to happen when anyone makes up\nhis mind to dare a seemingly impossible deed. Help came to Jason. Medea,\nthe daughter of the king of Colchis, gave Jason a charm that protected\nhim from fire. The bulls rushed into the field toward Jason, sending\nforth their burning breath like dragons, but Jason advanced boldly to\nmeet them. His friends, the Argonauts, watched him in terror, but he\nwent straight up to the bulls and his voice seemed to soothe their rage.\nHe stroked their necks fearlessly, slipped on the yoke and harnessed\nthem to the plough.\n\nDragons' teeth were a strange kind of seed to plant. As Jason ploughed\nstraight furrows and dropped in the teeth, the people of the kingdom and\nthe Argonauts gathered at the edge of the field to watch, and it came\nto his mind that perhaps the king was making a joke of him. There would\nhave been some sense in having that pair of fiery bulls use their great\nstrength to plough in corn and wheat, Jason thought, as he plodded up\nand down the field. But suddenly a cry from the crowd startled Jason and\nhe looked back. A strange sight met his eyes.\n\nThe clods of earth that covered the teeth of the dragon began to stir,\nand the bright points of spears thrust their way up through to the\nsurface. Helmets with nodding plumes appeared next, and after them came\nthe shoulders and arms and limbs of men. In a moment the field was alive\nwith armed warriors advancing upon Jason.\n\nHe was only one hero against all of this foe, but the sight put the same\ncourage that had come to him into the heart of each one of the Argonauts\nand they rushed to help their leader. Jason led valiantly against the\nwarriors, but there would have been no hope for him and the Greeks if\nhis courage had not been rewarded a second time. Medea sent a charmed\nsword to the hero. He threw it into the ranks of the warriors and they\nsuddenly ceased attacking the Greeks, fell to fighting among\nthemselves, and were destroyed.\n\nThere was still another danger for Jason to face, the dragon who guarded\nthe fleece with eyes that never closed. His new courage was equal to it.\nHe entered the grove that sheltered the golden fleece, took the\nglittering blanket from the oak tree where it hung, escaped the dragon\nand embarked with the Argonauts for the return trip to Greece.\n\nThe people proclaimed Jason king when he and the rest of these young\nheroes of Greece landed in Thessaly. They chose him for his valor, not\nfor his spoils, and it seemed to add to his new glory that he had\nstarted out an adventurer and returned a victor in a great fight.\n\nThe strangest part of the story is that no one knows what became of the\ngolden fleece after Jason and the Argonauts brought it home with them.\nNo one seems to have ever heard of it again. Perhaps even such a\ntreasure as that was grew dull and lost its value in comparison with the\ngolden prize of courage in achievement that the Argonauts found and kept\nall the rest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\nMEDEA'S CALDRON.\n\n\nIf a boy of to-day could have lived in the days of the ancient Greeks,\nlearning by means of self restraint and all the arts of soldiery to be a\nhero in warfare, it is possible that his captain would have told him a\nstrange story as part of his training. The boy would have wondered why\nhe had to hear such a grim tale, and what it all meant, for it was one\nof the myths which rivalled almost all the rest in its hidden meaning.\nIt was the story of Medea, the dark sorceress, and how she worked her\nart on Aeson, the father of Jason.\n\nJason brought Medea home to Thessaly with him at the same time that he\nbrought the fleece of gold whose capture had been his great adventure.\nShe was the princess who had helped him with her sorcery to brave a fire\nbreathing dragon, but she was ill suited to the court of Greece, never\nhaving taken any pleasure in the arts that most maidens delighted in,\nneedlework, weaving and the other crafts needful in making a home.\nInstead Medea was wont to flee from the feasts and the games of the\ncourt and sit by herself on a cliff beside the sea, her long black hair\nblowing about her pale face and her lips muttering incantations to the\nwild accompaniment that the waves sang.\n\nShe had a fondness for the hero, Jason, though, in her own strange way,\nand pride in the mighty deeds he had dared. She heard him speak one day\nof his greatest wish.\n\n\"There is only one thing lacking in my triumph and the homage that the\nnation is paying me,\" Jason told Medea, \"I would that my father were\nable to take part in the rejoicing but he is growing daily more feeble\nand helpless. I would willingly give enough years from my life to make\nhim young and strong again.\"\n\nMedea replied nothing in answer to this wish, but to herself she said,\n\n\"My power has been mighty in the aid of this hero and I will try it\nstill farther. If my sorcery avails me anything, the life of Jason's\nfather shall be lengthened without the cost of the sacrifice of any of\nthe youth's own years.\"\n\nSo, when the moon was next in the full, Medea made her way silently and\nalone out of the palace when it was the dead of night and all creatures\nslept. She moved swiftly along the fields and groves murmuring strange\nwords as she went, and addressing an incantation to the moon and to the\nstars. There was a goddess, named Hecate, who was supposed to represent\nthe darkness and terror of the night as Diana represented its beauties.\nAt dusk she began her wandering over the earth, seen only by dogs who\nhowled at her approach. Medea followed Hecate, imploring her help, and\nshe also called to Tellus, that goddess of the earth by whose power\nthose herbs that could be brewed for enchantment were grown. And Medea\ninvoked the aid also of the gods of the woods and caverns, of valleys\nand mountains, of rivers and lakes, and of the winds and vapors.\n\nAs Medea took her enchanted way through the night, the stars shone with\nan unusual brilliancy and presently a chariot, drawn by flying serpents\ndescended to meet her through the air. Medea ascended in it and made her\nway to distant regions where the most powerful plants grew and brought\nthem back before the day's first light for her uses. Nine nights Medea\nrode away in the chariot of the flying serpents, and in all that time\nshe did not go within the doors of her palace or shelter herself under\nany roof, or speak to a human being.\n\nHebe was the goddess of youth and one of the cup bearers of the gods.\nWhen Medea had gathered the herbs which she needed for her potion, she\nbuilt a fire in front of a nearby temple to Hebe and over the fire she\nhung a very wide and deep caldron. In this caldron she mixed the herbs\nwith seeds and flowers that gave out a bitter juice, stones from the far\ndistant east, and sands from the encircling shore of the ocean. There\nwere other ingredients, also, in this brew; a screech owl's head and\nwings, hoar frost gathered by moonlight, fragments of the shells of\ntortoises who of all creatures are the most long lived, and the head and\nbeak of a crow, the birds that outlives nine generations of men.\n\nMedea boiled all these ingredients together to get them ready for the\ndeed she proposed to do, stirring them with a dried branch from an olive\ntree. And, strange to say, the branch did not burn, but when the\nsorceress lifted it out it instantly turned as green as it had been in\nthe spring, and in a short time it was covered with leaves and a\nluxuriant growth of olives. The potion in the caldron bubbled and\nsimmered and sometimes rose so high as it boiled that it spilled over\nthe edge and down on the ground. But wherever the drops touched the\nearth, new green grass shot up and there were flowers as bright and\nfragrant as the most prized blossoms of the May.\n\nThe sorceress wished to further test her brew, though, and she put an\nold sheep, one of the most ancient of the flock, in the seething potion.\nInstead of being cooked, the creature was quite unhurt and when Medea\nremoved the cover, a little new lamb, soft and white, jumped out and ran\nfrisking away to the meadow.\n\nSo Medea knew that her spell was ready and she commanded that Jason\nbring his aged father, Aeson, to her.\n\n\"I would like to know him,\" she explained, \"and hear from his lips of\nthe deeds you did in your youth.\"\n\nThen Jason, all unsuspecting, sent for his father and conducted him to\nthe spot near the temple of Hebe where Medea waited. And as soon as she\nsaw Aeson, Medea threw him into a deep sleep by means of a charm and\nplaced him on a bed of herbs where he lay with no apparent breath or\nlife in him.\n\n\"Wicked sorceress, you have killed my father whom I so greatly loved,\"\nJason cried.\n\nThen, even as he spoke, Medea advanced toward the old man and wounded\nhim deeply, so that all his blood poured out. After this she dipped into\nher caldron and poured the charmed brew into Aeson's mouth and bathed\nhis wound with it.\n\nAs soon as he had imbibed it and felt its wonderful power, Aeson's hair\nand beard lost their whiteness and became as black as they had been in\nhis youth. His paleness and emaciation disappeared, for his veins were\nfull of new blood and his limbs were vigorous and robust. Aeson was\namazed at himself as he ran toward Jason, for he was as he remembered\nhimself to have been two score years before. The sorceress Medea had\nmade his years drop away from him.\n\nIt would be very pleasant to end this story by saying that Medea always\nused her art for a good purpose as she did in this case, but that was\nnot what happened. She did all manner of things that were wrong, such\nas riding her serpent-drawn chariot in the pursuit of revenge, sending a\npoisoned dress to a bride, and setting fire to a palace. What a strange,\nunusual kind of a story is this one of Medea!\n\nWhat did it mean to the young Greeks who heard it?\n\nIt meant for them just what it means for us to-day. Medea and her\ncaldron signified those times of cruel war and change that come to every\nnation. They may result in evil. But sometimes, when the world has\nbecome old and feeble, it may be made young and strong again through\nbitter pains, as Aeson was made young through Medea's caldron of such\nbitter brewing.\n\n\n\n\nHOW A GOLDEN APPLE CAUSED A WAR.\n\n\nNo one, as far as could be found out, had invited Eris to the party.\nIndeed everyone would have desired to keep her away, for it was a very\ngreat wedding feast attended by both the immortals and men, and Eris was\nthe goddess of discontent.\n\nThere was a beautiful nymph of the sea named Thetis whom even Jupiter\nhad looked upon with favor, and she was given in marriage to a mortal,\nPeleus. The gathering was being held on Mount Olympus and just when the\nmerrymaking was at its height and Ganymede, that comely Trojan youth\nwhom Jupiter in the guise of an eagle had borne away to be the cupbearer\nof the gods, was offering his nectar to all, a golden apple fell in\ntheir midst.\n\nIt was very large and shone and glittered as if it had been made from\nskin to core of precious gold. Even the gods scrambled to grasp it, and\nfor a moment they did not see who had thrown it. As Jupiter held the\napple, though, and read an inscription on its cheek, \"For the Fairest,\"\nthe guests had a flying vision of Discord, riding away in her dark\nchariot from the feast she had chosen to make bitter. For that apple was\nto be the beginning of a war so long and so terrible that there had\nnever been any other to equal it through all the centuries.\n\nAt once the goddesses began to quarrel among themselves as to which was\nfair enough to merit the gilded fruit. Juno, being the queen of the\ngods, demanded the golden apple as only her just due, and Minerva wanted\nit in addition to her treasure of wisdom. They appealed to the mighty\nJupiter, but neither he or any of the other gods dared to decide this\nquestion and so a judge had to be found among the mortals upon earth.\n\n[Illustration: Paris and the Golden Apple.]\n\nNear the city of Troy, on a high mountain named Ida, there lived a young\nshepherd, Paris. No one but the gods knew the secret of Paris' royal\nbirth. He had been left on Mount Ida when he was only a child because it\nhad been told to his parents in prophecy that he would be the\ndestruction of the kingdom and the ruin of his family. So Paris, all\nunknowing that he was a prince, had grown up among his flocks, as good\nto look upon as a young god and greatly beloved by all the hamadryads\nand nymphs of the woods and streams. It was at last decided that the\nshepherd Paris should be the judge as to which of the three goddesses,\nJuno, Minerva or Venus merited the apple of gold, and they descended in\nclouds of glory to Mount Ida and stood before him for his judgment.\n\nThey seemed to have forgotten their heavenly birth in their jealousy,\nfor each offered the young shepherd a bribe if he would declare her the\nmost fair. Juno offered Paris great wealth and one of the kingdoms of\nthe earth. Minerva said that she would grant Paris as her boon a share\nof her wisdom and invincible power in war. But Venus, her unmatched\nbeauty dazzling the youth as the bright rays of the noontide sun, and\nwearing her enchanted girdle, a spell that no one had ever been able to\nresist, laid her hand that was as light as sea-foam on Paris' fast\nbeating heart.\n\n\"I will give you the loveliest woman in the world to be your wife,\" she\nsaid.\n\nAt Venus' words, Paris pronounced his judgment, which has never been\nforgotten through all the ages, ringing from singer to singer and from\nnation to nation in the great strife which it started. He put the apple\nof gold into the outstretched hands of Venus, not noticing that the\ncloud which carried the angry Juno and Minerva back to the sky was as\nblack as when Jupiter was preparing to throw his thunderbolts.\n\nParis saw little after that except his own desires and ambitions, and\nVenus began at once feeding his vanity. She told him of his royal birth.\nHe was the son of King Priam of Troy. So Paris set out for his father's\nkingdom to find his fortune, and his flocks never saw him again.\n\nJust at that time King Priam declared a contest of wrestling among the\nprinces of his court and those of the neighboring kingdoms. On his way\nto Troy, Paris heard of this, and he also saw the prize being led toward\nTroy by one of the king's herdsmen. It was the finest bull to be found\non all the grazing plains of Mount Ida, and Paris decided to enter the\ncontest and see if he could not win it for himself. So Paris presented\nhimself to the court at Troy and wrestled in the sight of the king and\nhis brothers and his sister, Cassandra, who did not know him. And he\nthrew all his opponents, and was proclaimed the victor.\n\nHe was greeted with joy, as King Priam recognized him, and was crowned\nwith laurel. Only Cassandra, that sorrowful princess to whom the gods\nhad given the fatal power of seeing coming events, wept as Paris was\nwelcomed at the throne of his father. For Cassandra saw Paris as the\ndestruction of Troy, and her gift of prophecy was her sadness, because\nshe was doomed never to be believed.\n\nThen Venus told Paris to demand a ship of King Priam and set sail for\nSparta, in Greece, that her promise to him might be fulfilled. Paris set\nout, a wondrous appearing youth and a glorious victor, and he was well\nreceived by King Menelaus and his fair wife, Helen.\n\nIf Venus' beauty cast a spell among the gods, so did the loveliness of\nHelen blind the eyes of men to everything save her lovely face. There\nwas a story told that Helen was the child of an enchanted swan and that\nthis was the reason for the enchantment which she wrought in the hearts\nof the heroes. All the great princes of Greece had sued for Helen's\nhand, and when she left her home to be the wife of Menelaus, her father\nmade the heroes bind themselves by oath to go to the aid of Menelaus if\nit should chance that she was ever stolen away from him. Helen's father\nwas fearful for her peace, because of the perilous gift of charm which\nwas hers. In all of Greece, and indeed in the entire world there was\nnothing so beautiful as Helen's fair face.\n\nFor a long time Paris remained at the court of Sparta treated with a\ncourtesy and respect which he did not deserve, because during all that\ntime Venus was enchanting Helen until she was able to think of no one\nsave the comely youth, Paris. After awhile King Menelaus was obliged to\ntake a long journey and in his absence Paris persuaded Helen to forsake\nSparta and set sail with him for Troy.\n\nWhen these two were discovered in their treachery, the heroes were fired\nwith anger and remembered their pledge to go to King Menelaus' aid if\nany deep wrong was done to him. Their wrath was not so much directed\nagainst Helen, whom they believed to be under the dread spell which\nVenus had cast upon her, as against Paris who had so violated their\nhospitality. It was decided that preparations for war must be\nimmediately begun and men were pressed into service everywhere gathering\nsupplies and building ships. Agamemnon, who was a brother of King\nMenelaus and mighty in battle, was appointed to be the leader of the\nGreek army, and then began the work of finding the best men to help him\nin carrying on the great enterprise that was to be directed against\nTroy.\n\nThe heroes were as true and of as high courage then as they are to-day,\nbut the adventure of the war was to be directed against a foreign shore\nand certain of the Greeks found that it tore their hearts to leave their\nown country, and in the cause of a wilful youth and a fair woman. One\namong these was Ulysses, the king of Ithaca.\n\nUlysses was content and happy in his peaceful kingdom and the love of\nhis industrious queen, Penelope, and his baby son, Telemachus. We must\nnot commit Ulysses to the sin of cowardice because he did not want to\nenlist for the Trojan war. There have been heroes like him in all time,\ndestined to be the greatest warriors of all, when they overcame their\nfears and took swords in their hands in the cause of right. But at first\nUlysses pretended that he had lost his reason. He borrowed a plough from\na farmer and drove it up and down the seashore, sowing salt in the\nfurrows that he made. Ulysses was pursuing this mad occupation when a\nmessenger of Agamemnon came to demand his services in the army of the\nGreeks. The messenger could not believe his eyes, and to test Ulysses he\ngrasped the king's little son and laid him on the sand in the direct\npath of the plough-share. Ulysses dropped the plough handles and lifted\nthe baby Telemachus to his heart, so his game of madness was over. He\nbade his kingdom and Penelope farewell, and set out to join the heroes.\nHe was to be one of the bravest of them all, and doomed not to see his\nown land again for twenty years.\n\nThere was also a hero, a wonder of strength, who was detained from the\nwar because of the very great love that his mother had for him. This was\nAchilles, who was destined to be the noblest hero of Greece in the\ncontest with the Trojans. When he was a baby, Achilles' mother had taken\nhim to the river Styx and, holding him by one little heel, had plunged\nhim in its sacred waters. This made him safe from any harm that might\ncome to him in battle, although she forgot the heel which she had\ncovered with her hand. Then the mother of Achilles sent him to friends\nin a far kingdom in the dress of a girl and he was brought up there\namong women so that he could not be called to arms.\n\nAt this time, when the Greeks were polishing their shields and fastening\non their swords for the advance upon Troy, news of Achilles' cowardly\nhiding came to Ulysses. He who had overcome his own fear could not bear\nto have any other hero fall a victim of cowardice. So Ulysses disguised\nhimself as a vendor of fine wares, scents and embroidered silks, carved\nivory ornaments and jewels, and he went to the kingdom where Achilles,\nnow a youth, sojourned in the disguise of a maiden. The women of the\ncourt seized with the greatest delight the fine fabrics and necklaces\nfrom Ulysses' store, but Achilles delved in the packet of goods until\nhis eyes lighted upon some strange and beautifully wrought weapons which\nUlysses had brought also. These alone pleased him. So the destiny of\nAchilles was disclosed and he put on armor and went with Ulysses to join\nthe army.\n\nIn the meantime King Priam had welcomed the erring Paris and Helen, so\ngreat was the charm that her fair face wrought everywhere, and had given\nthem the shelter of his court. It was a sore trial to the heroes of Troy\nthat this should have happened, for they were as bold and upright men in\ntheir way as the Greeks were, and had not deserved this shame that had\ncome upon them. But they, too, were banded together to protect their\nking and so they made all the needful preparations to meet the forces of\nthe enemy when the Greeks should cross the sea.\n\nSince this great war had begun in the jealousy of the gods, the gods\nthemselves took part in the struggle. Neptune carried the ships of the\nGreeks safely over to the plains of Troy where Ulysses accompanied King\nMenelaus into the city to demand the return of Helen. When King Priam\nrefused, Venus endeavored to keep Helen in her power and she enlisted\nMars on the side of the Trojans. Juno favored the Greeks, as did also\nMinerva, the goddess of just warfare, and Apollo and Jupiter watched\nover the fate of those of the heroes whom they loved, no matter on which\nside they fought.\n\nSo the Trojan war began, but how it ended is a story of a strange horse\nmade all of wood.\n\n\n\n\nHOW A WOODEN HORSE WON A CITY.\n\n\nTen years the siege of Troy lasted, that mighty struggle that had been\nkindled by the flame of jealousy of gods and men, and ten years the\nTrojans resisted the Greeks. On both sides the brave fell in battle and\nthe plain outside of the city of Troy became a waste place, full of\ndread and death.\n\nThe hero Achilles, while offering up a sacrifice in the temple of\nApollo, was treacherously slain by a poisoned arrow from Paris' bow that\npierced his heel. The Greeks made use of the arrows of Hercules in their\nstruggle, but even these proved useless against the strong\nfortifications of the Trojans. There was a statue of Minerva in the city\nof Troy called the Palladium. It was said to have fallen from heaven and\nthat as long as it remained in the city Troy could not be taken. So the\nhero, Ulysses, with a few men, entered Troy in disguise and captured\nthis statute at the risk of their lives, carrying it back to the camp of\nthe Greeks, but Troy still held out and the tenth year of the war drew\nnear a close full of wretchedness and famine.\n\nIt seemed as if the spell of Helen's beauty, as she leaned from one of\nthe towers of King Priam's castle to cheer the Trojans or descended to\npass among their ranks, was their safety. No one, looking on her fair\nface, remembered hardship or felt fear, although the fated Cassandra\nwept alone, and was deemed mad because she saw, in her prophetic vision,\nthe fall of the strong battlements of Troy.\n\nAt last the Greeks despaired of ever subduing Troy by force and they\nasked Ulysses if any plan occurred to him by which they could subdue the\nTrojans through strategy. Ulysses unfolded a plan to the generals, and\nwhat it was and how it succeeded is one of the strangest stories of all\nwarfare. Acting upon his advice, the Greeks made preparation to abandon\nthe war. Their ships that had waited with folded sails in the harbor,\nnow drew anchor and sailed swiftly away, taking refuge behind a\nneighboring island. And the Trojans, seeing the encampment before their\nwalls broken for the first time in so many years, and the plain that\nthe enemy's tents had whitened clear, broke into joy and merrymaking\nsuch as they had not known for so long. They forgot caution and opened\nthe gates through which the men and women and children flocked out to\nthe plain to make merry and exult over the defeat of the Greeks.\n\nThere they saw an astounding thing. In the centre of the plain stood a\ngreat wooden image of a horse, like an idol, more prodigious than any\nwhich the Trojans had ever seen. It was so closely fitted and carved\nfrom its mammoth hoofs to its head that no one could detect the joining.\nA hundred men could have ridden the horse with room for more, but they\nwould never have been able to climb up to its back. At first the people\nof Troy, gathering around the wooden horse, were afraid of it. Then they\nmade up their minds about it.\n\n\"This is a trophy of war!\" they exclaimed, and they were for moving it\ninto the city to exhibit in the public square as a sign of their victory\nover the Greeks.\n\nThere was among them, though, a man named Laocoon, a priest of Neptune,\nwho objected to this plan.\n\n\"Beware, men of Troy!\" Laocoon warned them. \"You have fought for ten\nyears with the Greeks and know that they do not give up a fight as\neasily as this. How do you know but that this is a piece of trickery on\nthe part of their dauntless leader, Ulysses? I fear the Greeks, even\nwhen they bring us gifts.\"\n\nAs Laocoon uttered these prophetic words, he threw his lance at the side\nof the wooden horse and it rebounded with a hollow sound. At that,\nperhaps the Trojans might have taken his advice and destroyed the horse\nthere where it stood, but suddenly a man, who appeared to be a prisoner\nand a Greek, was dragged out from the crowd.\n\nHe said that he was a Greek, Sinon by name, who had brought upon himself\nthe malice of Ulysses and so had been left behind by the Greeks. He\nfeigned terror, and the Trojans, falling into the trap, reassured Sinon,\nthe spy, and told him that his life would be spared if he would disclose\nto the chiefs of Troy the secret of the wooden horse.\n\n\"It is an offering to Minerva,\" Sinon explained. \"The Greeks made it so\nhuge in order that you would never be able to carry it inside the gates\nof Troy.\"\n\nSinon's words turned the tides of the people's feelings. They were just\nplanning how they might best start the work of moving the giant horse\nwhen something happened which completely reassured them. Two immense\nserpents appeared advancing directly toward them over the sea. Side by\nside they moved toward the shore, their great heads erect, their burning\neyes full of blood and fire and licking their hissing mouths with their\nquivering tongues. And these serpents came directly to the spot where\nLaocoon stood with his two sons.\n\nThey attacked the boys first, winding round their bodies and breathing\ntheir poisonous breath into their faces. Laocoon, trying to rescue his\nsons, was drawn into the serpent's coils and all three were strangled.\nThen the creatures moved on, threatening to glide into the city of Troy.\n\n\"It is an omen of the displeasure of the gods with us for having even\ndoubted the sacred character of the wooden horse,\" the Trojans said.\n\"Laocoon has been punished for his lack of reverence in despising it.\"\n\nSo they gave themselves up again to wild joy and reckless merrymaking.\nThey wreathed the horse with garlands of flowers and dragged it, all\nlending a hand, across the plain and close to the gates of the city so\nthat they could widen them in the morning and push it through; and they\nwent home with great shouts like those of a victoriously returning army.\n\nThat night a door, cunningly set and concealed in the side of the wooden\nhorse, was opened by Sinon, the spy. Out of the door came the hero\nUlysses, King Menelaus, and a band of picked Greek generals, for the\nGreeks had made the wooden horse hollow so that a hundred men might be\nhidden inside for a long time with their arms and provisions and come to\nno harm. These men opened the gates of Troy, a city sunk in darkness and\nsleep, and through the gates went the Grecian army which had returned in\nthe ships and crossed the plain silently in the cover of the night.\n\nSo the prophecy of Laocoon and of the sad Cassandra was proved true, for\nthere was not a Trojan on guard. King Priam and his noblest warriors\nwere killed, Cassandra was taken captive, and the city was set on fire\nwith torches and burned to the ground.\n\nThen the Greeks set sail for their own country which they had not seen\nfor so many years, and they took the beautiful Helen with them, awakened\nat last from the spell which Venus had cast upon her, and sorrowing for\nall the suffering she had caused.\n\nBut the glory of the old Trojan days was gone forever. Men search to-day\nthe ruins of ancient Troy that lie hidden like bright jewels in the\ndepths of the ancient mountains. There is little left but the memory of\nthe apple of Discord that caused the destruction of the city and the\nheroes and the citadel of Troy's old power.\n\n\n\n\n[3]THE CYCLOPS.\n\n\nThe hero Ulysses was about to sail home to Greece, after the great city\nof Troy had been taken, having wandered farthest and suffered most of\nall in the long Trojan war.\n\nHe was well-nigh the last to sail, for he had tarried many days to do\nhomage to Agamemnon, lord of all the Greeks. Twelve ships he had with\nhim, twelve that he had brought to Troy, and in each there were some\nfifty men, being scarce half of those that had sailed with them in the\nold days, so many valiant heroes slept the last sleep on the plain and\non the seashore, slain in battle or by the shafts of Apollo.\n\nSo first Ulysses sailed to the Thracian coast where he and his men\nfilled their ships with foodstuffs and oxen and jars of fragrant juices\nof the grape. Scarcely had he set out again when the wind began to blow\nfiercely, and seeing a smooth sandy beach, they drove the ships to\nshore, dragged them out of reach of the waves, and waited there until\nthe storm should abate. And the third morning, being fair, they sailed\nagain, and journeyed prosperously. On the tenth day they came to the\nland where the lotus grows, a wonderful fruit which whoever eats cares\nnot to see country, home, or children again.\n\nNow the Lotus eaters, for so they call the people of the land, were a\nkindly folk and gave of the fruit to some of the sailors, not meaning\nany harm, but thinking it to be the best that they had to give. These\nmen, when they had eaten, said that they would not sail any more over\nthe sea. Which when the wise Ulysses heard, he bade their comrades bind\nthem and carry them, sadly complaining, to the ships.\n\nThen, the wind having abated, they took to their oars and rowed for many\ndays until they came to the country where the Cyclops lived. A mile or\nso from the shore there was an island, very fair and fertile, but no man\ndwelled there or tilled the soil, and in the island there was a harbor\nwhere a ship might be safe from all winds and at the head of the harbor\nwas a stream falling from the rock with whispering alders all about it.\nInto this the ships passed safely and were hauled upon the beach and the\ncrews slept by them, waiting for morning.\n\nBut in the morning Ulysses, who was always fond of adventure and would\nknow of every land to which he came what manner of men it sheltered,\ntook one of his twelve ships and bade the sailors row to land. There was\na great hill sloping to the shore, and there rose up, here and there, a\nsmoke from the caves where the Cyclopes lived apart, holding no converse\nwith men. They were a rude and savage folk, each ruling his own\nhousehold without taking thought of his neighbor.\n\nVery close to the shore was one of these caves, very huge and deep, with\na hedge of laurel hiding the opening and a wall of rough stone shaded by\ntall oaks and pines. Ulysses selected the twelve bravest men from his\ncrew and bade the rest remain behind to guard the ship while he went to\nsee what manner of dwelling it was and who abode there. He had his sword\nby his side and on his shoulder a mighty skin of the juice of grapes,\nsweet smelling and strong, with which he might win the heart of some\nfierce savage, should he chance to meet such.\n\nSo they entered the cave, and judged that it was the dwelling of some\nrich and skilful shepherd, for within there were pens for young sheep\nand goats, divided according to their age, and there were baskets full\nof cheeses, and full milk pails ranged along the wall. But the Cyclops,\nhimself, was away in the pastures. Then the companions of Ulysses\nbesought him to depart, but he would not, for he wished to see what\nmanner of host this strange shepherd might be. And truly he saw to his\ncost!\n\nIt was evening when the Cyclops came home, a mighty giant, twenty feet\nor more tall. He carried a vast bundle of pine logs on his back for his\nfire, and threw them down outside the cave with a great crash. He drove\nthe flocks inside and closed the entrance with a huge rock which twenty\nwagons and more could not have borne. Then he milked the ewes and goats,\nand half of the milk he curdled for cheese and half he set ready for\nhimself when he should be hungry. Last, he kindled a fire with the pine\nlogs and the flame lighted up all the cave, showing him Ulysses and his\ncomrades.\n\n\"Who are you?\" cried the Cyclops. \"Are you traders, or pirates?\"\n\n\"We are no pirates, mighty sir, but Greeks, sailing back from Troy. And\nwe beg hospitality of you in the name of Jupiter who rewards or punishes\nthe host according as he is hospitable or not.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the giant, \"it is idle to talk to me of Jupiter and the\ngods. We Cyclops take no account of gods, holding ourselves to be much\nbetter and stronger than they.\" Without more ado, he caught up two of\nthe men, and devoured them with huge draughts of milk between, leaving\nnot even a morsel or one of their bones. And when the giant had ended\nhis meal, he lay down among his sheep and fell asleep.\n\nUlysses would have liked to slay the Cyclops where he lay, but he\nremembered that, were he to do this, his comrades would perish\nmiserably. How could he move away the great rock that lay against the\ndoor of the cave? So they waited until morning. And the monster rose,\nseized two more men and devoured them for his meal. Then he went to the\npastures, but put a great rock on the mouth of the cave just as a man\nputs down the lid on his quiver of arrows.\n\nAll that day the wise Ulysses was thinking what he might best do to\nsave himself and his companions, and the end of his thinking was this.\nThere was a mighty pole in the cave, green wood of an olive tree as big\nas a ship's mast, which the giant proposed to use as a walking staff.\nUlysses broke off a fathom's length of this and his companions pointed\nit and hardened it in the fire. Then they hid it away.\n\nAt evening the giant came back, drove his flocks into the cave, fastened\nthe door and made his cruel feast as before. Then Ulysses came forward\nwith the skin of crushed grapes in his hand and said:\n\n\"Drink, Cyclops, now that you have feasted. Drink and see what a strange\ndraught we had in our ship.\"\n\nSo the Cyclops drank, and was greatly pleased.\n\n\"Give me more,\" he demanded. \"In good truth this is a strange draught.\nWe, too, have vines but they do not yield any juices like this, which\nindeed must be such as the gods drink.\"\n\nThen Ulysses gave him the skin again and he drank from it. Three times\nhe gave it to him and three times the giant drank, not knowing how it\nwould work on his brain. At last he fell into a deep slumber. Ulysses\ntold his men to be of good courage for the time of their deliverance was\ncome.\n\nThey thrust the olive stick into the fire until, green as it was, it was\nready to burst into flame and they thrust it into the monster's eye, for\nhe had but one eye set in the middle of his great forehead, and made him\nsightless.\n\nThen the Cyclops leaped up and bore away the stake and cried aloud so\nthat all the Cyclopes who lived on the mountain side heard him and came\ndown, crowding about the entrance to his cave. The Cyclops rolled away\nthe great stone from the door of the cave and came out in the midst of\nthe other giants stretching out his hands to try and gather his sheep\ntogether. And Ulysses wondered how he and his men would be able to\nescape.\n\nAt last he lighted on a good device. The Cyclops had driven the rams\nwith the other ship into the cave and they were huge and strong. Ulysses\nfastened his comrades underneath the rams, tying them with osier twigs\nof which the giant made his bed. There was one mighty ram, far larger\nthan all the others, and to this Ulysses clung, grasping the fleece\ntight with both hands. So they waited in the recesses of the cave for\nmorning. And when the morning came, the rams rushed out to pasture as\nthe giant sat in the door, feeling the back of each as it went by, but\nnever touching the man who was bound underneath each. With them Ulysses\nescaped.\n\nWhen they were out of reach of the giant, Ulysses loosed his hold of the\nrams and then unbound his comrades. They hastened to their ship, climbed\nin, and smote the sea with their oars, laying to right lustily that they\nmight the sooner escape from this accursed land. But when they had rowed\na hundred yards or so, the Cyclops heard them. He broke off the top of a\ngreat hill, a mighty rock, and hurled it where he heard the sound of the\noars. It fell right in front of the ship's bow and washed the ship back\nto the shore again. But Ulysses seized a long pole with both hands and\npushed the ship from the land and bade his comrades ply their oars\nsoftly, nodding with his head, for he was too wise to speak, lest the\nCyclops should know where they were. Then they rowed with all their\nmight and main.\n\nThey had gone twice as far as before, when Ulysses' pride became so\ngreat that he could no longer contain himself. He stood up in the boat\nand called out.\n\n\"Hear, Cyclops. If any man asks who destroyed your power for evil, say\nit was the warrior Ulysses, dwelling in Ithaca.\"\n\nThe giant heard and he lifted up his hands and spoke to Neptune, the god\nof the sea, who was the father of the Cyclopes. \"Hear me, Neptune, if I\nam indeed your son and you are my father. May this Ulysses never reach\nhis home; or, if the Fates have ordered that he shall reach it, may he\ncome alone, with all his comrades lost.\"\n\nAnd as the Cyclops ended this wicked prayer, he hurled another mighty\nrock which almost lighted on the rudder's end, yet missed it as if by a\nhair's breadth. So Ulysses escaped and all his comrades with him, and\nthey came to the island of the wild goats where they found the rest of\ntheir men who had waited long for them in sore fear lest they had\nperished. And they went home in triumph to Greece.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[3] Copyright Doubleday, Page and Co.\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY.\n\n\nAchelous       Ach-e-lo'us\n\nAchilles       A-chil'les\n\nAcrisius       A-cris'i-us\n\nAdmetus        Ad-me'tus\n\nAegean         Ae-ge'an\n\nAeneas         Ae-ne'as\n\nAesculapius    Aes'cu-la'pi-us\n\nAetna          Aet'na\n\nAgamemnon      Aga'mem-non\n\nAlcestis       Al-ces'tis\n\nAlpheus        Al-phe'us\n\nAndromeda      An-drom'e-da\n\nAntaeus        An-tae'us\n\nArachne        A-rach'ne\n\nArcas          Ar'cas\n\nArethusa       Ar-e-thu'sa\n\nArgonaut       Ar'go-naut\n\nArgos          Ar'gos\n\nAriadne        A-ri-ad'ne\n\nAristaeus      Ar-is-tae'us\n\nAtalanta       At-a-lan'ta\n\nAttica         At'tica\n\nArgus          Ar'gus\n\nAurora         Au-ro'ra\n\nBacchus        Bac'chus\n\nBattus         Bat'tus\n\nBaucis         Bau'cis\n\nBellerophon    Bel-ler'o-phon\n\nBelvidere      Bel-vi-dere\n\nBoreas         Bo're-as\n\nCadmus         Cad'mus\n\nCallisto       Cal-lis'to\n\nCassandra      Cas-san'dra\n\nCassiopeia     Cas-si-o-pe'ia\n\nCeleus         Ce'le-us\n\nCerberus       Cer'be-rus\n\nCeres          Ce'res\n\nCharon         Cha'ron\n\nChimaera       Chi-mae'ra\n\nCirce          Cir'ce\n\nColchis        Col'chis\n\nCrete          Cre'te\n\nCyane          Cy'a-ne\n\nCyclopes       Cy-clo'pes\n\nCycnus         Cyc'nus\n\nCyrene         Cy-re'ne\n\nDaedalus       Daed'a-lus\n\nDanae          Dan'a-e\n\nDaphne         Daph'ne\n\nDejanira       Dej'a-ni'ra\n\nDelos          De'los\n\nDelphi         Del'phi\n\nDiana          Di-a'na\n\nElis           E'lis\n\nElysian        E-lys'i-an\n\nEnceladus      En-cel'a-dus\n\nEphialtes      Eph'i-al'tes\n\nEpimetheus     Ep-i-me'theus\n\nErisichthon    Er-i-sich'thon\n\nEuropa         Eu-ro'pa\n\nEurydice       Eu-ryd'i-ce\n\nEurystheus     Eu-rys'theus\n\nGalatea        Gal-a-te'a\n\nGlaucus        Glau'cus\n\nGordius        Gor'di-us\n\nGorgon         Gor'gon\n\nHalcyone       Hal-cy'o-ne\n\nHamadryad      Ham-a-dry'ad\n\nHebe           He'be\n\nHector         Hec'tor\n\nHelios         He'lios\n\nHercules       Her'cu-les\n\nHesperides     Hes-per'i-des\n\nHesperus       Hes'pe-rus\n\nHippomenes     Hip-pom'e-nes\n\nHydra          Hy'dra\n\nIcarus         I'ca-rus\n\nIobates        I-ob'a-tes\n\nIris           I'ris\n\nLaocoon        La-oc'o-on\n\nLatona         La-to'na\n\nLemnos         Lem'nos\n\nLycia          Lyc'i-a\n\nMedusa         Me-du'sa\n\nMelampos       Me-lam'pos\n\nMenelaus       Men-e-la'us\n\nMercury        Mer'cu-ry\n\nMerope         Mer'o-pe\n\nMidas          Mi'das\n\nMinerva        Mi-ner'va\n\nMinos          Mi'nos\n\nMinotaur       Min'o-taur\n\nMosychlos      Mosy'chlos\n\nNemea          Ne'me-a\n\nNereides       Ne-re'i-des\n\nOlympus        O-lym'pus\n\nOrion          O-ri'on\n\nOrpheus        Or'pheus\n\nOssa           Os'sa\n\nOtus           O-tus\n\nOvid           Ov'id\n\nPactolus       Pac-to'lus\n\nPandora        Pan-do'ra\n\nPatroclus      Pa-tro'clus\n\nPegasus        Peg'a-sus\n\nPelias         Pe'li-as\n\nPeneus         Pe-ne'us\n\nPerseus        Per'seus\n\nPhaeton        Pha'e-ton\n\nPhineas        Phin'e-us\n\nPolydectes     Pol-y-dec'tes\n\nPriam          Pri'am\n\nPrometheus     Pro-me'theus\n\nProserpine     Pro-ser'pine\n\nPhilemon       Phi-le'mon\n\nPhrygia        Phryg'ia\n\nPomona         Po-mo'na\n\nProteus        Pro'teus\n\nPsyche         Psy'che\n\nPygmalion      Pyg-ma'lion\n\nPylos          Py-los\n\nPython         Py'thon\n\nSamos          Sa'mos\n\nScylla         Scyl'la\n\nSeriphus       Se-ri'phus\n\nSinon          Si'non\n\nSirius         Sir'i-us\n\nSomnus         Som'nus\n\nTerminalia     Ter'mi-nal-ia\n\nTheseus        The'se-us\n\nThessaly       Thess'a-ly\n\nThetis         The'tis\n\nThracian       Thra-ci'an\n\nTityus         Tit'yus\n\nTrachine       Tra'ch-ine\n\nTmolus         Tmo'lus\n\nTriton         Tri'ton\n\nTroegene       Troe'gene\n\nUlysses        U-lys'ses\n\nVertumnus      Ver-tum'nus\n\nVulcan         Vul'can","title":"Wonder Stories: The Best Myths for Boys and Girls","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":63136}