kicking up his heels, and rolling from one end of the room to
the other. All the good women of the neighborhoodcrowded to

the palace, and held up their hands, in unutterable amazement,
at the beauty and wholesomeness of this darling little prince.

Their wonder was the greater, because he was never seen to
taste any food; not even so much as a cup of milk.

"Pray, nurse," the queen kept saying, "how is it that you make
the child thrive so?"

"I was a mother once," Ceres always replied; "and having nursed
my own child, I know what other children need."

But Queen Metanira, as was very natural, had a great curiosity
to know precisely what the nurse did to her child. One night,

therefore, she hid herself in the chamber where Ceres and the
little prince were accustomed to sleep. There was a fire in the

chimney, and it had now crumbled into great coals and embers,
which lay glowing on the hearth, with a blaze flickering up now

and then, and flinging a warm and ruddy light upon the walls.
Ceres sat before the hearth with the child in her lap, and the

firelight making her shadow dance upon the ceiling overhead.
She undressed the little prince, and bathed him all over with

some fragrantliquid out of a vase. The next thing she did was
to rake back the red embers, and make a hollow place among

them, just where the backlog had been. At last, while the baby
was crowing, and clapping its fat little hands, and laughing in

the nurse's face (just as you may have seen your little brother
or sister do before going into its warm bath), Ceres suddenly

laid him, all naked as he was, in the hollow among the red-hot
embers. She then raked the ashes over him, and turned quietly

away.
You may imagine, if you can, how Queen Metanira shrieked,

thinking nothing less than that her dear child would be burned
to a cinder. She burst forth from her hiding-place, and running

to the hearth, raked open the fire, and snatched up poor little
Prince Demophoon out of his bed of live coals, one of which he

was gripping in each of his fists. He immediately set up a
grievous cry, as babies are apt to do, when rudely startled out

of a sound sleep. To the queen's astonishment and joy, she
could perceive no token of the child's being injured by the hot

fire in which he had lain. She now turned to Mother Ceres, and
asked her to explain the mystery.

"Foolish woman," answered Ceres, "did you not promise to
intrust this poor infant entirely to me? You little know the

mischief you have done him. Had you left him to my care, he
would have grown up like a child of celestial birth, endowed

with superhuman strength and intelligence, and would have lived
forever. Do you imagine that earthly children are to become

immortal without being tempered to it in the fiercest heat of
the fire? But you have ruined your own son. For though he will

be a strong man and a hero in his day, yet, on account of your
folly, he will grow old, and finally die, like the sons of

other women. The weak tenderness of his mother has cost the
poor boy an immortality. Farewell."

Saying these words, she kissed the little Prince Demophoon, and
sighed to think what he had lost, and took her departure

without heeding Queen Metanira, who entreated her to remain,
and cover up the child among the hot embers as often as she

pleased. Poor baby! He never slept so warmly again.
While she dwelt in the king's palace, Mother Ceres had been so

continually occupied with taking care of the young prince, that
her heart was a little lightened of its grief for Proserpina.

But now, having nothing else to busy herself about, she became
just as wretched as before. At length, in her despair, she came

to the dreadfulresolution that not a stalk of grain, nor a
blade of grass, not a potato, nor a turnip, nor any other

vegetable that was good for man or beast to eat, should be
suffered to grow until her daughter were restored. She even

forbade the flowers to bloom, lest somebody's heart should be
cheered by their beauty.

Now, as not so much as a head of asparagus ever presumed to
poke itself out of the ground, without the especial permission

of Ceres, you may conceive what a terrible calamity had here
fallen upon the earth. The husbandmen plowed and planted as

usual; but there lay the rich black furrows, all as barren as a
desert of sand. The pastures looked as brown in the sweet month

of June as ever they did in chill November. The rich man's
broad acres and the cottager's small garden patch were equally

blighted. Every little girl's flower bed showed nothing but dry
stalks. The old people shook their white heads, and said that

the earth had grown aged like themselves, and was no longer
capable of wearing the warm smile of summer on its face. It was

really piteous to see the poor, starving cattle and sheep, how
they followed behind Ceres, lowing and bleating, as if their

instinct taught them to expect help from her; and everybody
that was acquainted with her power besought her to have mercy

on the human race, and, at all events, to let the grass grow.
But Mother Ceres, though naturally of an affectionate

disposition, was now inexorable.
"Never," said she. "If the earth is ever again to see any

verdure, it must first grow along the path which my daughter
will tread in coming back to me."

Finally, as there seemed to be no other remedy, our old friend
Quicksilver was sent post-haste to King Pluto, in hopes that he

might be persuaded to undo the mischief he had done, and to set
everything right again, by giving up Proserpina. Quicksilver

accordingly made the best of his way to the great gate, took a
flying leap right over the three-headed mastiff, and stood at

the door of the palace in an inconceivably short time. The
servants knew him both by his face and garb; for his short

cloak, and his winged cap and shoes, and his snaky staff had
often been seen thereabouts in times gone by. He requested to

be shown immediately into the king's presence; and Pluto, who
heard his voice from the top of the stairs, and who loved to

recreate himself with Quicksilver's merry talk, called out to
him to come up. And while they settle their business together,

we must inquire what Proserpina had been doing ever since we
saw her last.

The child had declared, as you may remember, that she would not
taste a mouthful of food as long as she should be compelled to

remain in King Pluto's palace. How she contrived to maintain
her resolution, and at the same time to keep herself tolerably

plump and rosy, is more than I can explain; but some young
ladies, I am given to understand, possess the faculty of living

on air, and Proserpina seems to have possessed it too. At any
rate, it was now six months since she left the outside of the

earth; and not a morsel, so far as the attendants were able to
testify, had yet passed between her teeth. This was the more

creditable to Proserpina, inasmuch as King Pluto had caused her
to be tempted day by day, with all manner of sweetmeats, and

richly-preserved fruits, and delicacies of every sort, such as
young people are generally most fond of. But her good mother

had often told her of the hurtfulness of these things; and for
that reason alone, if there had been no other, she would have

resolutely refused to taste them.
All this time, being of a cheerful and active disposition, the

little damsel was not quite so unhappy as you may have
supposed. The immense palace had a thousand rooms, and was full

of beautiful and wonderful objects. There was a never-ceasing