THE STORY OF ÆNEAS
DAY after day Tessa and Beppo travelled over the road to Rome with their
father. They were always happy, always gentle, always merry.
The artist and his family grew to love the children and wish they could
do something to make their lives easier.
"They are so poor," Lucy told her brother one night, "that they eat meat
only at great times, like Christmas. It costs too much for them to buy
it every day as mother does. But they have plenty of fruit. I think the
delicious figs and apricots that grow here in this country make up for a
good deal of meat. And their mother makes salads of all kinds of
vegetables. Perhaps they don't miss the meat as long as they are not
used to eating it as we are."
"How did you know about their food?" asked Lucy's mother, who happened
to hear what she said.
"It came about this way, mamma. We were in the kitchen the other day. I
wanted to watch the maid cooking over the charcoal flames in that queer
stone stove. And Tessa said then she had seen such a big piece of meat
roasting for dinner only two or three times in her life. Then we went on
talking and she spoke of what she usually had at home. Her mother uses
olive oil in almost everything, just as our cook does. I should think it
would be better than the lard we have in America, isn't it?"
"Yes, indeed, for it is much more wholesome. It is obtained from olives,
you know, instead of the fat of pigs. People would use more of it in
America if it did not cost so much by the time it has travelled across
the ocean. But I hear your father's footsteps. Let us go and meet him."
The artist was not alone, for Tessa was with him. She was looking much
pleased.
"It is raining hard," said Mr. Gray, "and I have just seen Tessa's
father and asked him to let her spend the night with us. It is too great
a storm for her to go out in. The little girl has done finely for me
to-day, and she sat so well that I got along on my picture quite
rapidly. So she will dine with us to-night and I will tell you stories
in Italian. After that, we will have games."
Lucy ran and put her arms around Tessa's neck.
"What a good time we shall have," she cried. "Father tells lovely
stories. Oh, Tessa, I wish you were my own sister."
Tessa turned her big dark eyes to the floor. There were tears in them,
but they were tears of gladness. She had never had a cross word spoken
to her in her whole life. She had never been punished for any little
fault. But her loving little heart had not expected this: that the
American child who was always dressed so beautifully, whose parents
seemed so rich in her eyes, should wish a sister like her, a peasant
girl. She could scarcely believe it.
The dinner seemed a very grand one to Tessa. One surprise was brought in
after another. There were four separate courses! Last, came a delicious
ice and frosted cakes. It seemed to the little Italian like a feast of
the fairies.
After the dinner was over, the family went into the great drawing-room.
Rugs were stretched here and there over the marble floor. There were
soft couches and odd, spider-legged tables and chairs.
"We don't own the furniture," Lucy told her visitor. "It belongs here in
the palace and is the same kind as the prince uses. He lives below us.
It is beautiful, father thinks, but he does wish we could be warmer on
these cold, windy days. You have very queer stoves in your country,
Tessa. You should feel the heat that comes from ours in America." And
Lucy held her hands over the jar filled with burning charcoal. It
certainly gave the room little extra warmth.
"You look cold," Tessa answered, with her voice full of sympathy. "I do
not feel so, though. I suppose it is because I have lived out-of-doors
most of my life. But think, we do not have much weather like this, and
it will soon be spring."
Yes, it was true. Christmas would be here in a few days, and then, then,
the lovely spring would open with its violets, its daisies, and its
strawberries.
"Are you ready with your story, father?" asked Lucy, as she perched
herself on the arm of his chair. Arthur stretched himself on a rug at
his father's feet, and at the same time drew Tessa on her low stool to
his side.
"I shall have to be ready, at any rate, I think," her father answered,
laughing. "So prepare to listen closely, for I must speak in Italian,
that Tessa may understand.
"I wish you to imagine a time of long ago," he went on. "It was before
any history was written about this country. There were many different
tribes of people who lived along the shores of the rivers and built
temples to strange gods. Those people believed in a god of the forest,
and others of the ocean, the fruits, and the grains. Festivals were held
in their honour.
"After many years, the country became great and powerful. This city was
built and ships were sent from it to all parts of the known world. It
was at this time also that art and poetry flourished. Sculptors modelled
beautiful statues that we count among our greatest treasures to-day. And
men wrote great books that you, Lucy and Arthur, will study, by and by.
"One of these writers was Virgil. He wrote in Latin, the language spoken
by these people. The soft Italian words in use now are pleasant to the
ear, but not as strong and grand as the old Latin tongue."
"Doesn't any one speak in Latin now, father?" asked Lucy.
"No, my dear. But it is studied, and the books written in Latin are read
by scholars. Our own English language would be very poor if it had not
received a great deal of help from the Latin. In fact, the same thing
can be said of nearly every language used in the Western world to-day.
But I am afraid you are getting tired. I will go back to my story.
"It was written by the poet Virgil, and tells of the wonderful things
that happened to a prince called Æneas. He lived in Troy and was always
called the Pious Æneas. This was because he was so good to his old
father, and honoured the gods in whom he believed."
"Did he really live, father, or is this only a legend?" asked Arthur.
"We think now it is a legend, but the story is written as if every word
were true, and belonged to the real history of Italy. But let me go on
with my story.
"Æneas and his people had been conquered in a great battle, and their
city was given up to their enemies. The young prince fled in the
darkness, carrying his father on his back, and leading his little boy by
the hand. His wife followed behind them. The old man carefully held some
little images. They must not be left behind or lost, for they
represented the gods in whom the Trojans believed and whom they
worshipped.
"When they had gone a little way, Æneas found that his wife was no
longer following them. What could have happened to her? He looked for
her everywhere, but it was of no use. No trace of her could be found,
and she was never heard of again.
"When Æneas and his men reached Mount Ida they built some ships and set
sail. They would find a new home for themselves."
"But where was their old home, father? You called it Troy," said Lucy.
"Troy was a place in Asia Minor, near the strait with the long name of
the Hellespont. This strait separates that part of Asia from Greece, and
the rest of Europe. You can easily find it on your map. But remember
this, as I go on,--in olden times the ships were small and people knew
little about the seas or the great ocean, and seldom went far from
home. What you would think of as a short voyage would have seemed a very
long one to the people then.
"Many wonderful things happened to Æneas after he left Troy. After a
while his provisions gave out, and he landed on the shore of an island
to get some food. He found wild goats grazing there, and his men killed
some of them. While they were feasting on the flesh of these creatures,
the harpies appeared. They had the bodies of birds, but the faces of
ugly old women."
Tessa shuddered. "Are there any real harpies?" she asked, eagerly.
"No, no, Tessa. Remember that this is only a legend.
"These horrible bird-hags flew down into the midst of the Trojans and
destroyed their dinner. The men shot at them, but the arrows glanced off
of the feathers, and not one of the harpies was harmed. Although most of
them flew far away, they were very angry. One of them stayed long
enough to cry in a harsh voice:
"'You Trojans shall be punished for troubling us. You shall be tossed
about on the ocean until you reach Italy, and you shall not build a city
for yourselves until you are so hungry that you will be willing to eat
the trenchers containing the food.'
"This was what people called a prophecy, and, as Æneas and his men
believed in such things, it made them feel far from cheerful.
"He sailed away, however, and came at length to another place, where he
found old friends. His cousin, Helenus, who had also been driven away
from Troy, was ruling there, and he had built a new city for himself and
his comrades.
"Helenus was a prophet, as it seemed, and he told Æneas that after he
reached Italy he would find an old white sow with thirty little pigs
around her. He must build a city for himself wherever he should find
her.
"Æneas had many other adventures after leaving Helenus. Among other
things, he met a horrible giant who had lost the sight of his one eye,
but was still terrible. After this, the old father of Æneas died, and
the son's sad loss was followed by a fearful storm in which the men
nearly gave up hope of seeing land again. The ships were driven far to
the south.
"After the wind had died down and the waves had grown calmer, the
homeless wanderers came to a quiet bay. They landed and found a lovely
queen who treated Æneas so kindly that he almost forgot the city he had
planned to build in Italy. But after awhile the god Mercury appeared to
him and reminded him of his duty.
"He set sail once more, leaving the beautiful queen so unhappy that she
killed herself with a sword her visitor had left behind. There were
many other adventures, but, at last, Æneas came to the shores of Italy,
where he rested in a grove. He and his followers sat around on the grass
to eat. They used large, round cakes for plates on which to place the
meat. After it was gone, they began to eat the cakes. Then Æneas's
little son said:
"'We are eating our trenchers.'
"When he heard these words Æneas thought of the harpy's prophecy. He
knew at once that his home was to be here."
"Was it where Rome stands now?" asked Lucy.
"No, the place was called Cumæ. There is another story about the
building of Rome which you may like to hear some other evening. Let us
play games for awhile, and then, little ones, for bed and pleasant
dreams."
Every one joined in a game of blind man's buff. Tessa had never played
it before and she enjoyed it very much. Then she showed them how to play
one of the games she had learned from the children of her own village.