You will easily believe that Midas lost no time in snatching up a
great earthen pitcher (but, alas me! it was no longer earthen
after he touched it), and in hastening to the riverside. As he
ran along, and forced his way through the shrubbery, it was
positively marvelous to see how the foliage turned yellow behind
him, as if the autumn had been there, and nowhere else. On
reaching the river's brink, he plunged headlong in, without
waiting so much as to pull off his shoes.
"Poof! poof! poof!" gasped King Midas, as his head emerged out of
the water. "Well; this is really a refreshing bath, and I think
it must have quite washed away the Golden Touch. And now for
filling my pitcher!"
As he dipped the pitcher into the water, it gladdened his very
heart to see it change from gold into the same good, honest,
earthen vessel which it had been before he touched it. He was
conscious, also, of a change within himself. A cold, hard, and
heavy weight seemed to have gone out of his bosom. No doubt his
heart had been gradually losing its human substance, and been
changing into insensible metal, but had now been softened back
again into flesh. Perceiving a violet, that grew on the bank of
the river, Midas touched it with his finger, and was overjoyed to
find that the delicate flower retained its purple hue, instead of
undergoing a yellow blight. The curse of the Golden Touch had,
therefore, really been removed from him.