so hungry, I should never think of eating such a miserable, dry
pomegranate as that."
"It is the only one in the world," said the servant.
He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pomegranate upon
it, and left the room. When he was gone, Proserpina could not help
coming close to the table, and looking at this poor specimen of dried
fruit with a great deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on
seeing something that suited her taste, she felt all the six months'
appetite taking possession of her at once. To be sure, it was a very
wretched-looking pomegranate, and seemed to have no more juice in it
than an oyster shell. But there was no choice of such things in King
Pluto's palace. This was the first fruit she had seen there, and the
last she was ever likely to see; and unless she ate it up immediately,
it would grow drier than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat.
"At least, I may smell it," thought Proserpina.
So she took up the pomegranate, and applied it to her nose; and somehow
or other, being in such close neighborhood to her mouth, the fruit
found its way into that little red cave. Dear me! what an everlasting
pity! Before Proserpina knew what she was about, her teeth had actually
bitten it, of their own accord. Just as this fatal deed was done, the
door of the apartment opened, and in came King Pluto, followed by
Quicksilver, who had been urging him to let his little prisoner go. At
the first noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew the pomegranate
from her mouth. But Quicksilver (whose eyes were very keen, and his
wits the sharpest that ever anybody had) perceived that the child was a
little confused; and seeing the empty salver, he suspected that she had
been taking a sly nibble of something or other. As for honest Pluto, he
never guessed at the secret.
"My little Proserpina," said the king, sitting down, and affectionately
drawing her between his knees, "here is Quicksilver, who tells me that
a great many misfortunes have befallen innocent people on account of
my detaining you in my dominions. To confess the truth, I myself had
already reflected that it was an unjustifiable act to take you away
from your good mother. But, then, you must consider, my dear child,
that this vast palace is apt to be gloomy, (although the precious
stones certainly shine very bright,) and that I am not of the most
cheerful disposition, and that therefore it was a natural thing enough
to seek for the society of some merrier creature than myself. I hoped
you would take my crown for a plaything, and me--ah, you laugh,
naughty Proserpina--me, grim as I am, for a playmate. It was a silly
expectation."
"Not so extremely silly," whispered Proserpina. "You have really amused
me very much sometimes."
"Thank you," said King Pluto, rather dryly. "But I can see, plainly
enough, that you think my palace a dusky prison, and me the
iron-hearted keeper of it. And an iron heart I should surely have,
if I could detain you here any longer, my poor child, when it is now
six months since you tasted food. I give you your liberty. Go with
Quicksilver. Hasten home to your dear mother."
Now, although you may not have supposed it, Proserpina found it
impossible to take leave of poor King Pluto without some regrets, and a
good deal of compunction for not telling him about the pomegranate. She
even shed a tear or two, thinking how lonely and cheerless the great
palace would seem to him, with all its ugly glare of artificial light,
after she herself--his one little ray of natural sunshine, whom he had
stolen, to be sure, but only because he valued her so much--after she
should have departed. I know not how many kind things she might have
said to the disconsolate king of the mines, had not Quicksilver hurried
her away.
"Come along quickly," whispered he in her ear, "or his majesty may
change his royal mind. And take care, above all things, that you say
nothing of what was brought you on the golden salver."
In a very short time, they had passed the great gateway, (leaving
the three-headed Cerberus, barking, and yelping, and growling, with
threefold din, behind them,) and emerged upon the surface of the earth.
It was delightful to behold, as Proserpina hastened along, how the
path grew verdant behind and on either side of her. Wherever she set
her blessed foot, there was at once a dewy flower. The violets gushed
up along the wayside. The grass and the grain began to sprout with
tenfold vigor and luxuriance, to make up for the dreary months that had
been wasted in barrenness. The starved cattle immediately set to work
grazing, after their long fast, and ate enormously, all day, and got
up at midnight to eat more. But I can assure you it was a busy time of
year with the farmers, when they found the summer coming upon them with
such a rush. Nor must I forget to say, that all the birds in the whole
world hopped about upon the newly-blossoming trees, and sang together,
in a prodigious ecstasy of joy.
Mother Ceres had returned to her deserted home, and was sitting
disconsolately on the doorstep, with her torch burning in her hand. She
had been idly watching the flame for some moments past, when, all at
once, it flickered and went out.
"What does this mean?" thought she. "It was an enchanted torch and
should have kept burning till my child came back."
Lifting her eyes she was surprised to see a sudden verdure flashing
over the brown and barren fields, exactly as you may have observed a
golden hue gleaming far and wide across the landscape, from the just
risen sun.
"Does the earth disobey me?" exclaimed Mother Ceres, indignantly. "Does
it presume to be green, when I have bidden it be barren, until my
daughter shall be restored to my arms?"
"Then open your arms, dear mother," cried a well-known voice, "and take
your little daughter into them."
And Proserpina came running, and flung herself upon her mother's bosom.
Their mutual transport is not to be described. The grief of their
separation had caused both of them to shed a great many tears; and
now they shed a great many more, because their joy could not so well
express itself in any other way.
When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, Mother Ceres looked
anxiously at Proserpina.
"My child," said she, "did you taste any food while you were in King
Pluto's palace?"
"Dearest mother," answered Proserpina, "I will tell you the whole
truth. Until this very morning, not a morsel of food had passed my
lips. But to-day, they brought me a pomegranate, (a very dry one it
was, and all shrivelled up, till there was little left of it but seeds
and skin,) and having seen no fruit for so long a time, and being faint
with hunger, I was tempted just to bite it. The instant I tasted it,
King Pluto and Quicksilver came into the room. I had not swallowed
a morsel; but--dear mother, I hope it was no harm--but six of the
pomegranate seeds, I am afraid, remained in my mouth."
"Ah, unfortunate child, and miserable me!" exclaimed Ceres. "For each
of those six pomegranate seeds you must spend one month of every year
in King Pluto's palace. You are but half restored to your mother.
Only six months with me, and six with that good-for-nothing King of
Darkness!"
"Do not speak so harshly of poor King Pluto," said Proserpina, kissing
her mother. "He has some very good qualities; and I really think I can
bear to spend six months in his palace, if he will only let me spend
the other six with you. He certainly did very wrong to carry me off;
but then, as he says, it was but a dismal sort of life for him, to live
in that great gloomy place, all alone; and it has made a wonderful
change in his spirits to have a little girl to run up stairs and down.
There is some comfort in making him so happy; and so, upon the whole,
dearest mother, let us be thankful that he is not to keep me the whole
year round."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE GOLDEN FLEECE
When Jason, the son of the dethroned King of Iolchos, was a little
boy, he was sent away from his parents, and placed under the queerest
schoolmaster that ever you heard of. This learned person was one of
the people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. He lived in a cavern, and
had the body and legs of a white horse, with the head and shoulders of
a man. His name was Chiron; and, in spite of his odd appearance, he
was a very excellent teacher, and had several scholars, who afterwards
did him credit by making a great figure in the world. The famous
Hercules was one, and so was Achilles, and Philoctetes, likewise,
and Æsculapius, who acquired immense repute as a doctor. The good
Chiron taught his pupils how to play upon the harp, and how to cure
diseases, and how to use the sword and shield, together with various
other branches of education, in which the lads of those days used to be
instructed, instead of writing and arithmetic.
I have sometimes suspected that Master Chiron was not really very
different from other people, but that, being a kind-hearted and merry
old fellow, he was in the habit of making believe that he was a horse,
and scrambling about the school room on all fours, and letting the
little boys ride upon his back. And so, when his scholars had grown up,
and grown old, and were trotting their grandchildren on their knees,
they told them about the sports of their school days; and these young
folks took the idea that their grandfathers had been taught their
letters by a Centaur, half man and half horse. Little children, not
quite understanding what is said to them, often get such absurd notions
into their heads, you know.
Be that as it may, it has always been told for a fact, (and always will
be told, as long as the world lasts,) that Chiron, with the head of a
schoolmaster, had the body and legs of a horse. Just imagine the grave
old gentleman clattering and stamping into the school room on his four
hoofs, perhaps treading on some little fellow's toes, flourishing his
switch tail instead of a rod, and, now and then, trotting out of doors
to eat a mouthful of grass! I wonder what the blacksmith charged him
for a set of iron shoes.
So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four-footed Chiron, from the time
that he was an infant, only a few months old, until he had grown to
the full height of a man. He became a very good harper, I suppose, and
skilful in the use of weapons, and tolerably acquainted with herbs and
other doctor's stuff, and, above all, an admirable horseman; for, in
teaching young people to ride, the good Chiron must have been without
a rival among schoolmasters. At length, being now a tall and athletic
youth, Jason resolved to seek his fortune in the world, without asking
Chiron's advice, or telling him anything about the matter. This was
very unwise, to be sure; and I hope none of you, my little hearers,
will ever follow Jason's example. But, you are to understand, he had
heard how that he himself was a prince royal, and how his father,
King Æson, had been deprived of the kingdom of Iolchos by a certain
Pelias, who would also have killed Jason, had he not been hidden in
the Centaur's cave. And, being come to the strength of a man, Jason
determined to set all this business to rights, and to punish the wicked
Pelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast him down from the
throne, and seat himself there instead.
With this intention, he took a spear in each hand, and threw a
leopard's skin over his shoulders, to keep off the rain, and set forth
on his travels, with his long yellow ringlets waving in the wind.
The part of his dress on which he most prided himself was a pair of
sandals, that had been his father's. They were handsomely embroidered,
and were tied upon his feet with strings of gold. But his whole attire
was such as people did not very often see; and as he passed along, the
women and children ran to the doors and windows, wondering whither
this beautiful youth was journeying, with his leopard's skin and his
golden-tied sandals, and what heroic deeds he meant to perform, with a
spear in his right hand and another in his left.
I know not how far Jason had travelled when he came to a turbulent
river, which rushed right across his pathway, with specks of white
foam among its black eddies, hurrying tumultuously onward, and roaring
angrily as it went. Though not a very broad river in the dry seasons
of the year, it was now swollen by heavy rains and by the melting of
the snow on the sides of Mount Olympus; and it thundered so loudly,
and looked so wild and dangerous, that Jason, bold as he was, thought
it prudent to pause upon the brink. The bed of the stream seemed to be
strewn with sharp and rugged rocks, some of which thrust themselves
above the water. By and by, an uprooted tree, with shattered branches,
came drifting along the current, and got entangled among the rocks. Now
and then, a drowned sheep, and once the carcass of a cow, floated past.
In short the swollen river had already done a great deal of mischief.
It was evidently too deep for Jason to wade, and too boisterous for him
to swim; he could see no bridge; and as for a boat, had there been any,
the rocks would have broken it to pieces in an instant.
"See the poor lad," said a cracked voice close to his side. "He
must have had but a poor education, since he does not know how to
cross a little stream like this. Or is he afraid of wetting his fine
golden-stringed sandals? It is a pity his four-footed schoolmaster is
not here to carry him safely across on his back!"
Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did not know that anybody
was near. But beside him stood an old woman, with a ragged mantle over
her head, leaning on a staff, the top of which was carved into the
shape of a cuckoo. She looked very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm; and
yet her eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox, were so extremely
large and beautiful, that, when they were fixed on Jason's eyes, he
could see nothing else but them. The old woman had a pomegranate in her
hand, although the fruit was then quite out of season.
"Whither are you going, Jason?" she now asked.
She seemed to know his name, you will observe; and indeed, those great
brown eyes looked as if they had a knowledge of everything, whether
past or to come. While Jason was gazing at her, a peacock strutted
forward, and took his stand at the old woman's side.
"I am going to Iolchos," answered the young man, "to bid the wicked
King Pelias come down from my father's throne, and let me reign in his
stead."
"Ah, well, then," said the old woman, still with the same cracked
voice, "if that is all your business, you need not be in a very great
hurry. Just take me on your back, there's a good youth, and carry me
across the river. I and my peacock have something to do on the other
side, as well as yourself."
"Good mother," replied Jason, "your business can hardly be so important
as the pulling down a king from his throne. Besides, as you may see
for yourself, the river is very boisterous; and if I should chance to
stumble, it would sweep both of us away more easily than it has carried
off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly help you if I could; but I
doubt whether I am strong enough to carry you across."
"Then," said she, very scornfully, "neither are you strong enough to
pull King Pelias off his throne. And, Jason, unless you will help an
old woman at her need, you ought not to be a king. What are kings made
for, save to succor the feeble and distressed? But do as you please.
Either take me on your back, or with my poor old limbs I shall try my
best to struggle across the stream."
Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in the river, as if to
find the safest place in its rocky bed where she might make the first
step. But Jason, by this time, had grown ashamed of his reluctance
to help her. He felt that he could never forgive himself, if this
poor feeble creature should come to any harm in attempting to wrestle
against the headlong current. The good Chiron, whether half horse or
no, had taught him that the noblest use of his strength was to assist
the weak; and also that he must treat every young woman as if she were
his sister, and every old one like a mother. Remembering these maxims,
the vigorous and beautiful young man knelt down, and requested the good
dame to mount upon his back.
"The passage seems to me not very safe," he remarked. "But as your
business is so urgent, I will try to carry you across. If the river
sweeps you away, it shall take me too."
"That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to both of us," quoth the old
woman. "But never fear. We shall get safely across."
So she threw her arms around Jason's neck; and lifting her from the
ground, he stepped boldly into the raging and foamy current, and began
to stagger away from the shore. As for the peacock, it alighted on the
old dame's shoulder. Jason's two spears, one in each hand, kept him
from stumbling, and enabled him to feel his way among the hidden rocks;
although, every instant, he expected that his companion and himself
would go down the stream, together with the driftwood of shattered
trees, and the carcasses of the sheep and cow. Down came the cold,
snowy torrent from the steep side of Olympus, raging and thundering
as if it had a real spite against Jason, or, at all events, were
determined to snatch off his living burden from his shoulders. When he
was half way across, the uprooted tree (which I have already told you
about) broke loose from among the rocks, and bore down upon him, with
all its splintered branches sticking out like the hundred arms of the
giant Briareus. It rushed past, however, without touching him. But the
next moment, his foot was caught in a crevice between two rocks, and
stuck there so fast, that, in the effort to get free he lost one of his
golden-stringed sandals.
At this accident Jason could not help uttering a cry of vexation.
"What is the matter, Jason?" asked the old woman.
"Matter enough," said the young man. "I have lost a sandal here among
the rocks. And what sort of a figure shall I cut, at the court of King
Pelias, with a golden-stringed sandal on one foot, and the other foot
bare!"
"Do not take it to heart," answered his companion cheerily. "You never
met with better fortune than in losing that sandal. It satisfies me
that you are the very person whom the Speaking Oak has been talking
about."
There was no time, just then, to inquire what the Speaking Oak had
said. But the briskness of her tone encouraged the young man; and
besides, he had never in his life felt so vigorous and mighty as
since taking this old woman on his back. Instead of being exhausted,
he gathered strength as he went on; and, struggling up against the
torrent, he at last gained the opposite shore, clambered up the bank,
and set down the old dame and her peacock safely on the grass. As
soon as this was done, however, he could not help looking rather
despondently at his bare foot, with only a remnant of the golden string
of the sandal clinging round his ankle.
"You will get a handsomer pair of sandals by and by," said the old
woman, with a kindly look out of her beautiful brown eyes. "Only let
King Pelias get a glimpse of that bare foot, and you shall see him turn
as pale as ashes, I promise you. There is your path. Go along, my good
Jason, and my blessing go with you. And when you sit on your throne,
remember the old woman whom you helped over the river."
With these words, she hobbled away, giving him a smile over her
shoulders as she departed. Whether the light of her beautiful brown
eyes threw a glory round about her, or whatever the cause might be,
Jason fancied that there was something very noble and majestic in her
figure, after all, and that, though her gait seemed to be a rheumatic
hobble, yet she moved with as much grace and dignity as any queen on
earth. Her peacock, which had now fluttered down from her shoulder,
strutted behind her in prodigious pomp, and spread out its magnificent
tail on purpose for Jason to admire it.
When the old dame and her peacock were out of sight, Jason set forward
on his journey. After travelling a pretty long distance, he came to
a town situated at the foot of a mountain, and not a great way from
the shore of the sea. On the outside of the town there was an immense
crowd of people, not only men and women, but children too, all in their
best clothes, and evidently enjoying a holiday. The crowd was thickest
towards the sea shore; and in that direction, over the people's heads,
Jason saw a wreath of smoke curling upward to the blue sky. He inquired
of one of the multitude what town it was, near by, and why so many
persons were here assembled together.
"This is the kingdom of Iolchos," answered the man, "and we are the
subjects of King Pelias. Our monarch has summoned us together, that we
may see him sacrifice a black bull to Neptune, who, they say, is his
majesty's father. Yonder is the king, where you see the smoke going up
from the altar."
While the man spoke he eyed Jason with great curiosity; for his garb
was quite unlike that of the Iolchians, and it looked very odd to see a
youth with a leopard's skin over his shoulders, and each hand grasping
a spear. Jason perceived, too, that the man stared particularly at
his feet, one of which, you remember, was bare, while the other was
decorated with his father's golden-stringed sandal.
"Look at him! only look at him!" said the man to his next neighbor. "Do
you see? He wears but one sandal!"
Upon this, first one person, and then another, began to stare at Jason,
and everybody seemed to be greatly struck with something in his aspect;
though they turned their eyes much oftener towards his feet than to any
other part of his figure. Besides, he could hear them whispering to one
another.
"One sandal! One sandal!" they kept saying. "The man with one sandal!
Here he is at last! Whence has he come? What does he mean to do? What
will the king say to the one-sandalled man?"
Poor Jason was greatly abashed, and made up his mind that the people
of Iolchos were exceedingly ill bred, to take such public notice of an
accidental deficiency in his dress. Meanwhile, whether it were that
they hustled him forward, or that Jason, of his own accord, thrust a
passage through the crowd, it so happened that he soon found himself
close to the smoking altar where King Pelias was sacrificing the
black bull. The murmur and hum of the multitude, in their surprise at
the spectacle of Jason with his one bare foot, grew so loud that it
disturbed the ceremonies; and the king, holding the great knife with
which he was just going to cut the bull's throat, turned angrily about,
and fixed his eyes on Jason. The people had now withdrawn from around
him, so that the youth stood in an open space, near the smoking altar,
front to front with the angry King Pelias.
"Who are you?" cried the king, with a terrible frown. "And how dare you
make this disturbance, while I am sacrificing a black bull to my father
Neptune?"
"It is no fault of mine," answered Jason. "Your majesty must blame the
rudeness of your subjects, who have raised all this tumult because one
of my feet happens to be bare."
When Jason said this, the king gave a quick, startled glance down at
his feet.
"Ha!" muttered he, "here is the one-sandalled fellow, sure enough! What
can I do with him?"
And he clutched more closely the great knife in his hand, as if he were
half a mind to slay Jason, instead of the black bull. The people round
about caught up the king's words, indistinctly as they were uttered;
and first there was a murmur among them, and then a loud shout.
"The one-sandalled man has come! The prophecy must be fulfilled!"
For you are to know, that, many years before, King Pelias had been told
by the Speaking Oak of Dodona, that a man with one sandal should cast
him down from his throne. On this account, he had given strict orders
that nobody should ever come into his presence, unless both sandals
were securely tied upon his feet; and he kept an officer in his palace,
whose sole business it was to examine people's sandals, and to supply
them with a new pair, at the expense of the royal treasury, as soon
as the old ones began to wear out. In the whole course of the king's
reign, he had never been thrown into such a fright and agitation as by
the spectacle of poor Jason's bare foot. But, as he was naturally a
bold and hard-hearted man, he soon took courage, and began to consider
in what way he might rid himself of this terrible one-sandalled
stranger.