Chapter 6

"When that day came all the people of the nameless city gathered together to see what was to be brought them. As they were seated on the side of mountain, on the top of which stood Jupiter, King Poseidon appeared on the plain before them, leading a wonderful black horse. It was covered with gold armor. It pawed the ground and stamped with its hoofs, and looked like the leader of a grand army. The people shouted and would have declared for Poseidon without waiting for his rival, but Jupiter quieted them.

"Then the goddess came forward on the plain. She was beautiful, tall, stately. She seemed to be holding something very small in her hand. She opened her hand before the people and commanded a gardener to dig a hole in the earth at her feet. Into this hole she dropped the small something which was in her hand. As soon as the earth was over it, tiny leaves came out. Then it grew instantly into a tree covered with silver-gray leaves. Its trunk grew larger and larger. It seemed to touch the skies It was filled with fruit. She showed them how to extract the oil. She showed them how to use the fruit.

"The horse neighed and pawed, and Poseidon laughed at the woman's gift. 'Here is war, glory, and power!' he cried.

"'Here is life, peace, and plenty!' said the goddess.

"'The city shall be named Athena' came from Jupiter on the mountain top.

"And so the city of Athens was named and the people loved Athena for her gift of the olive tree."

THE LINDEN AND THE OAK

_Greek_

Two grand trees stood on a hill near a lake. One was an oak with wide branches. The other was a linden.

"Man and wife," the people called them, and when asked why, said, "Because it is true. Once they could walk around and talk. Now they stand there side by side forever. But you can hear them whisper to each other sometimes."

And if asked, "Who were they?" even the little children would say, "Why, Philemon and Baucis."

Many children had these names in those days, and knew the story of the two trees well, for there were none like them anywhere else in the land.

It was said that these two people who lived in such strange form were once a poor old couple, and their home was a wretched house in the valley. Simple, honest, and quiet, they had little to do with their bustling neighbors.

One evening two strangers walked into the village, and stopping at the first house to ask for food, were sent away in a hurry.

"We work for a living and have nothing for those who don't. Go away."

They were told the same at the next house, and at the next, all down the street. Tired and hungry, they neared the cottage where Philemon and Baucis lived.

"I will try here," said the shorter of the two strangers. The other was silent.

But before they reached the door, Philemon came to meet them. And Baucis placed the best chairs for them as they entered, first spreading over the chairs pieces of cloth she had woven.

"You are hungry," she said, and she went to the fire-place and uncovered the few coals she had saved in the ashes for her morning fire. On these she put sticks and dry bark, and with all her little strength, blew hard on them, and the fire began to burn.

On a hook over the fire she hung a small iron kettle, and getting ready the beans her husband had brought in from their little garden, she put them in to stew. All this she did eagerly, as if the strangers were invited friends. While his wife set the table, Philemon brought a bowl of water for the guests to bathe their hands. As one leg of the table was too short, Baucis put a flat shell under to make it level with the rest. Tired and trembling, she set out a few rude dishes. They were her best. She added the pitcher of milk Philemon had bought for their own meal, and when the beans were cooked, everything was ready. For dessert, she had apples and wild honey.

Drawing a bench to the table, she laid on it a thin cushion made soft with dried seaweed, and then called the strangers. The smiles and gentle welcome of the two old people made the meal seem like a feast.

The strangers were very thirsty, but each time Baucis poured out a cup of milk the pitcher filled again.

"You are people from the skies, and not men!" the old couple cried, and fell on their knees and begged the strangers to forgive them for their poor meal.

"Why did you come to us? Others could have done so much better."

"You have done the best you could; who could do better than that?" said the tall one. "Come with us," and he led them to the top of the hill.

Then he stretched out his hand toward the village, and they saw it sink down, down out of sight, and the river came rushing in, and the place was a lake. Nothing could be seen but the house they had just left. It stood on the shore of the lake. Its timbers were growing higher and higher, and the yellow straw that thatched the roof changed to shining gold. It was now a beautiful temple.

"Ask of me anything you wish and I will give it to you," said the tall one.

"I know now you are Jupiter," said Philemon. "Let us take care of your temple while we live, and when it is time for us to leave it let us go together. Let not one be taken and the other left."

Philemon and Baucis cared for the beautiful temple for years. Feeling old and weary, they went to the top of the hill one day to say good-by to all things. As they stood there they saw each other change, one into this oak and the other into this linden.

"Good-by," they said together, as the bark grew up over their lips.

No tree has so strong and true a heart as the oak, and in the leafy linden hundreds of birds sing and are happy.

THE LITTLE MAIDEN WHO BECAME A LAUREL TREE

_Greek_

Cupid was a beautiful little boy. Between the wings on his shoulders he always carried a quiver full of tiny arrows. Bow in hand, he started out every morning ready, like any boy, for mischief. One day he came to drink from a fountain with some thirsty doves who were his friends.

Apollo saw the little fellow and, to tease him, asked:

"What do you carry arrows for, saucy boy? It is for great gods like myself to do that. My arrow shot the terrible python, the serpent of darkness. What can _you_ do?"

"Apollo may hit serpents, but I will hit Apollo," said Cupid, and taking out two tiny arrows, one of gold and one of lead, he touched their points together and then shot the golden one straight into Apollo.

Quick as a flash of Apollo's sun-crown, Cupid shot the other, the leaden one, into a river cloud he saw floating by. In it he knew Daphne, the daughter of the river, was hidden. The leaden arrow hit her true, but she drifted away on the swift breeze.

Apollo, the sun-god, can see through everything except fog and mist, but as Daphne fled he caught one glimpse of her face, and Cupid laughed to see how his arrow did its work. His arrows never kill; sometimes, indeed, they make life happier. Apollo now loved Daphne more than anything else on earth. Daphne was more afraid of him than of anything else in the sky.

On flew Daphne, hoping her misty cloud would hide her till she could reach her river home. On flew Apollo, begging her to stop for fear his arrows might hurt her. His great arrows of sunlight must do their work even if his friends should perish by them.

As they neared the river he saw her face again. She sank on the river bank. She was faint and he would comfort her but she cried to her father, the river, "O father, help!" The earth opened, and before Apollo could reach her he saw her waving hair change into glistening leaves. Her arms became branches. Her skin changed to dainty bark, and her face to a tree-top whose pink flowers show, even yet, the beauty of Daphne's cheek. Apollo reached out and gathered the leaves and made them into a crown.

"This tree shall be called laurel, and it shall be mine," he said. "I cannot grow old and the leaves of this tree shall be always green. Daphne has won the race against Apollo, the wreath of these leaves shall be her gift and mine to the bravest in every race. Kings and captains shall be proud to wear it."

Apollo hid his face for days behind dark clouds. Heavy rains fell. The immortal gods cannot weep, but these great drops seemed like tears for lost Daphne.

Even saucy Cupid mourned, and he did not dare go out till the storms were over, for fear Apollo's grief would spoil his wings.

In cold northern lands you can find Daphne's tree in greenhouses among the roses and lilies. And if you ask for Daphne, the gardener will point her out, for he calls the tree by her name.

THE LESSON OF THE LEAVES

_Roman_

In a cave by the seashore lived an old, old woman. This very old woman was also very wise.

She remembered everything that had ever happened and she knew almost everything that was going to happen in her country.

She lived in Italy and was called the Sibyl.

One day a man named Aeneas came to her cave to question her. She was very kind to him. She even took him far down into the center of the earth, Pluto's kingdom, to see those whom Pluto had carried away.

When they came back, Aeneas said he would build a temple to her and have gifts brought to her. She had so much power and was so wise he felt sure she must be more than mortal. But she would not let Aeneas build the temple. Instead she told him her story. It was this:

"Apollo saw me when I was young, and told me to ask him for any gift I would have. We were standing on the seashore. I stooped down and filled my hand with the white sand at our feet.

"'Give me as many birthdays as there are grains of sand in my hand, O Apollo!' I said.

"'It is granted,' said Apollo. But, in my foolishness, I forgot to ask for everlasting youth.

"When one hundred grains of sand had slipped away from the glass in which I placed them all, I was old. My youth was gone.

"Seven hundred grains have slipped through now. I have counted the rest. I shall yet see three hundred springs and three hundred harvests; then the Sibyl will be no more. My body has shriveled. Soon I shall be only a warning voice to the children of men, but I shall live till the grains are gone from that glade. While my voice lasts men will respect my sayings. As long as I live, I will strive to help the human race."

Aeneas went with her into the cave. The leaves were thick on the floor. The Sibyl picked them up and wrote with an eagle's quill on each.

She let him read as many as he wished. He found some of them were warnings to his friends. Some were for people he had never seen. The Sibyl placed them in rows on the ledges of rock inside the cavern.

A fierce wind blew into the cave and carried the written leaves away.

"Save them, O Sibyl!" cried Aeneas.

"My work is to write, Aeneas. I am no man's slave. If he wishes his leaf, he must come for it before the wind takes it away. There are thousands of leaves not written upon yet. But no man may have a second leaf. He must be here on time."

"One leaf, one life!" said Aeneas. "I see your meaning, O Sibyl, and go about my work. My ship shall sail to-day. Each day shall bring me nearer my journey's end, and when I reach my home the leaves on my forest trees shall teach me your lesson over again. I will rise early each day and be the first in all things. Even the winds shall not be quicker than I am in the work it is my duty to do. Farewell."

Here is another story which is told of the Sibyl. It shows that she could write on something beside leaves.

She appeared one day at the king's palace gate with a heavy burden on her back. The keeper let her in.

With a guard on either side the Sibyl was shown into the presence of the king.

The burden proved to be nine large books closely written. She offered them for sale at an enormous price. The king refused to pay it. The Sibyl only smiled and threw three of the books into the open fire. The king had wished to own those three, for he knew that future events were written in them.

"I have now six books and the price is the same as for the nine. Does the king want them?" The king hesitated. While he was thinking what to do, the little old woman threw three more into the fire.

"I have now three books and the price is the same as for the nine. Does the king want them?" And the king said, "Yes," without a minute's waiting, and took the books.

The little old woman vanished. Her thousand years were nearly gone, but her voice was still heard when people visited her cave.

The king searched the three books and found that all things concerning his city, Rome, were foretold in them for hundreds of years. Perhaps many wars and troubles would have been saved if he had bought all the books instead of only three.

It is usually best to decide a matter quickly when one knows that nothing can be gained by waiting.

THE LEGEND OF THE SEED

_Greek_

Once upon a time the earth was so very young and the people upon it so pure and good that they could hear the morning stars as they sang together. It was during the Golden Age, as it is now called, that one morning in the early springtime a little group of girls were playing together and gathering wild flowers.

One of these girls was named Proserpina. She was the merriest of them all, though her dress was of the plainest brown. Her little feet danced everywhere and her little fingers seemed to touch the flowers as lightly as the butterfly that flitted by her.

Carelessly she danced close to a great opening in the ground. Looking down she saw a yellow daffodil growing on the edge. Leaning over to pick it, she felt herself caught by her dress, and the next minute found herself sailing far down into the earth through the great crevice. She was in a chariot drawn by black horses, which were driven by a driver who seemed to be both deaf and dumb. He neither answered when she pleaded with him to take her back, nor even seemed to hear her.

The girls who were left gathering wild flowers had missed Proserpina almost the moment she was out of sight, but no one knew what had happened.

"Come back! come back!" the girls called, but no answer came up from the great opening or from the forest near them. Only Echo marked their cry of "Proserpina, oh, Proserpina, come back!" "She has vanished," the girls whispered. "I always felt as though she had wings beneath that plain brown dress she wore," said one.

"But who can tell Queen Ceres, her mother?" they asked one another.

No one could go alone, so they all went together to Queen Ceres and told her what had happened.

The good queen wept bitterly. That day she laid aside her regal robes and began her search for Proserpina. Up and down the world went this royal mother seeking for her lost daughter. At last she came to the land of King Celeus. When Ceres reached his land she was so ragged and poor that she was glad to earn money by taking care of the king's baby son. As nurse to the little prince, Queen Ceres was almost comforted.

Because she was the goddess of the wheat and the fruits, the crops upon the land of King Celeus, while she was there, were very wonderful. In the land near Mount Aetna, where Proserpina had been lost, no rain fell and no corn nor apples grew.

Juno sent Iris down to earth to beg of Ceres to give rain to the suffering people of her own home. Ceres said no rain should fall till Proserpina came back to her mother. One day as Ceres was weeping by a fountain her tears fell into the springing water, and, as they did so, she heard a silvery voice:

"Why do you grieve, Queen Ceres?" said the water sprite or nymph.

"Proserpina, my beautiful daughter, is gone from me," said Ceres. "I have sought everywhere on the earth for her. I cannot find my daughter."

"Listen to me," said the voice from the fountain. "I have seen her. She is not on the earth; she is in the earth. She is in the palace of King Pluto, who rules below. I saw her as I ran with a river through Pluto's kingdom. She longs to come back to you."

Queen Ceres was like a stone for a time after she heard the story told by the murmuring waters of the fountain.

Proserpina alive and longing for her! It did not seem true, but she would know soon. Taking back the little prince to his mother, she hid herself in a forest, called for her chariot, and, when it came, drove straight to the top of Mount Olympus, where Jupiter sat on his shining throne.

She begged of him to command his brother Pluto to return her daughter to her.

"It is granted on one condition; that is, that Proserpina has never tasted food nor drink since she has been beneath the earth."

Mercury, the wing-footed messenger, and Flora, the goddess of Spring, sought the center of the earth to bring back Proserpina to Ceres.

Pluto loved his stolen prize as much as Queen Ceres did; and, being unhappy because she refused to eat, succeeded at last in making her taste one of the beautiful pomegranates that are both food and drink.

Even while she was tasting it Mercury and Flora stood at Pluto's gate with the command to return her to Ceres. What was to be done? Mercury, quick-witted as well as quick-footed, decided that if she dwelt with Ceres for half the year and with Pluto the other half, Jupiter's commands would be satisfied. This proved to be as Jupiter wished.

So, arrayed in shining green, Proserpina swiftly set out with Flora and Mercury to find Queen Ceres. Ceres saw her the minute her bright head appeared above the brown earth and knew her through her disguise. You remember when Proserpina was taken she wore a plain brown suit.

They lived together, the mother and daughter, through the bright spring days and the warm summer weather. When autumn came Proserpina donned her brown suit again and Pluto claimed her. There, in his underground realm, she reigns all the cold winter months. She is happy now because Queen Ceres is happy. The mother knows that when spring breathes over the earth again Proserpina will come back to her.

Can you guess who Proserpina is? You have seen her a thousand times. Yes, and when you see her next you will say how strange that the Greeks could tell such a story of only a little brown seed.

THE GIRL WHO WAS CHANGED INTO A SUNFLOWER

_Greek_

Years ago there was a beautiful girl who lived near a large garden. This girl's name was Clytie. She had wonderful golden hair and big brown eyes, and she was tall and slender.

Clytie stood in this large garden one day, watching her pet doves as they flew about in the sky, when she caught a glimpse of the sun chariot of Apollo. She even had a glimpse of Apollo himself, as he guided his wonderful horses along their course, which was the circle of the heavens. There were many fleecy clouds in the sky, and one had veiled the burning sunlight from the eyes of Clytie, or she would never have been able to see the sight, which only the eyes of Jupiter's eagle may endure and not become blind.

After this the foolish girl went every day into the garden and, staring up into the sky, tried to see Apollo once more. Every day for more than thirty days she went into the garden. Her mother often told her that she would make Apollo angry, for he shines brightly so as to hide himself from people on the earth.

"Clytie! Clytie!" her mother would call, "come in and take your sewing."

But Clytie never would obey. Sometimes she would answer:

"Oh, mother, let me stay. He was so beautiful. I have no heart for work."

Apollo saw the foolish girl day after day and he became out of patience with her.

"Mortal maidens must obey their mothers," he said, and a burning sun-arrow fell on Clytie's bright head.

Such a strange change came upon Clytie from that moment. Her brown eyes grew larger. Her golden hair stood straight out around them, and her pretty clothing changed into great heart-shaped leaves which clung to a stiff stalk. Her feet grew firmly into the ground, and the ten little toes changed into ten strong roots that went creeping everywhere for water.

When Clytie's mother called again no answer came and she found, in going into the garden, a flower in place of her child.

And now Clytie always stares at the sun all day long. In the morning her face is toward the east, and at night it is toward the west.

Did you ever think that the sunflower was once a lovely girl?

WHY THE NARCISSUS GROWS BY THE WATER

_Greek_

Down in the heart of the woods there was a clear spring with water like silver. No shepherds ever brought their flocks there to drink, no lions nor other wild beasts came in the night time. No leaves nor branches fell into it, but the green grass grew around it all the year, and the rocks kept it from the sun.

One day a boy hunter found it, and, being thirsty, he stooped down to drink. As he bent he saw, for the first time in his life, his own fair face, and did not know who it was.

He thought it must be a water fairy, and he put his lips to the water, but as soon as their touch disturbed the surface, away went the shadow-face from out of his sight.

"Nothing has escaped me yet, and here I shall stay till this curly-haired creature comes out of the water," he said. "See its shining eyes and smiling mouth!"

He forgot his hunt, he forgot everything but to watch for this water sprite. When the moon and stars came out, there it was just the same as in the sunshine, and so he lingered from day to night and from night to day.

He saw the face in the water grow thinner day by day, but never thought of himself. At last he was too weak to watch any longer. His face was as white as the whitest lily, and his yellow hair fell over his hollow cheeks. With a sigh his breath floated away, his head dropped on the green grass, and there was no longer any face in the water.

The fairies came out of the woods and would have covered him with earth, but, looking for him, they found nothing but a lovely flower, gazing with bended head into the silver spring, just as the boy hunter had done.

The fairies told the story to a little child, and she told it to her father and mother. When they found this spring in the heart of the woods they called the flower growing beside it Narcissus, after the boy hunter who had perished watching his own face in the silver water.

THE LEGEND OF THE ANEMONE

_Greek_

Just see the basketful of anemones we got down in the glen! They were as thick there as they could be. We picked and picked and it didn't seem to make a bit of difference, there were so many left. Aren't they lovely?"

"They are dainty little flowers, boys. Where did you say you found them?"

"On the low land in the glen by the brook. There were great trees on both sides of the glen, and it was so still the little brook and the waterfall sounded as loud as a big river. How we wished you were there!"

"What else did you find besides the windflowers, or anemones, boys?"

"Here's a little moss and a few blood-root flowers, and Will Johnson carried home a big bouquet of wild bleeding-hearts."

"That makes me think, Charlie, of a myth there is about the first anemones."

"A myth? What is that, mother? Oh, I know, John," said Charlie; "it is one of those stories that people used to believe just as we used to believe in Santa Claus. He's a myth, you know, and now you please keep still and maybe mother has time to tell us about the first anemones. I like myths."

"This is a hunting story, so I know you will like it, boys.

"But just think of hunting with bow and arrows and spears! Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes!" shouted both the boys.