"Mother, Mother Ceres!" cried she, all in a tremble. "Come

quickly and save me."
But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear. Indeed, it

is most probable that Ceres was then a thousand miles off,
making the corn grow in some far distant country. Nor could it

have availed her poor daughter, even had she been within
hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina begin to cry out, than

the stranger leaped to the ground, caught the child in his
arms, and again mounted the chariot, shook the reins, and

shouted to the four black horses to set off. They immediately
broke into so swift a gallop, that it seemed rather like flying

through the air than running along the earth. In a moment,
Proserpina lost sight of the pleasant vale of Enna, in which

she had always dwelt. Another instant, and even the summit of
Mount Aetna had become so blue in the distance, that she could

scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that gushed out of its
crater. But still the poor child screamed, and scattered her

apron full of flowers along the way, and left a long cry
trailing behind the chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it

came, ran quickly to see if any mischief had befallen their
children. But Mother Ceres was a great way off, and could not

hear the cry.
As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.

"Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?" said he,
trying to soften his rough voice. "I promise not to do you any

harm. What! you have been gathering flowers? Wait till we come
to my palace, and I will give you a garden full of prettier

flowers than those, all made of pearls, and diamonds, and
rubies. Can you guess who I am? They call my name Pluto; and I

am the king of diamonds and all other precious stones. Every
atom of the gold and silver that lies under the earth belongs

to me, to say nothing of the copper and iron, and of the coal
mines, which supply me with abundance of fuel. Do you see this

splendid crown upon my head? You may have it for a plaything.
O, we shall be very good friends, and you will find me more

agreeable than you expect, when once we get out of this
troublesome sunshine."

"Let me go home!" cried Proserpina. "Let me go home!"
"My home is better than your mother's," answered King Pluto.

"It is a palace, all made of gold, with crystal windows; and
because there is little or no sunshine thereabouts, the

apartments are illuminated with diamond lamps. You never saw
anything half so magnificent as my throne. If you like, you may

sit down on it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the
footstool."

"I don't care for golden palaces and thrones," sobbed
Proserpina. "Oh, my mother, my mother! Carry me back to my

mother!"
But King Pluto, as he called himself, only shouted to his

steeds to go faster.
"Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina," said he, in rather a

sullen tone. "I offer you my palace and my crown, and all the
riches that are under the earth; and you treat me as if I were

doing you an injury. The one thing which my palace needs is a
merry little maid, to run upstairs and down, and cheer up the

rooms with her smile. And this is what you must do for King
Pluto."

"Never!" answered Proserpina, looking as miserable as she
could. "I shall never smile again till you set me down at my

mother's door."
But she might just as well have talked to the wind that

whistled past them, for Pluto urged on his horses, and went
faster than ever. Proserpina continued to cry out, and screamed

so long and so loudly that her poor little voice was almost
screamed away; and when it was nothing but a whisper, she

happened to cast her eyes over a great broad field of waving
grain--and whom do you think she saw? Who, but Mother Ceres,

making the corn grow, and too busy to notice the golden chariot
as it went rattling along. The child mustered all her strength,

and gave one more scream, but was out of sight before Ceres had
time to turn her head.

King Pluto had taken a road which now began to grow excessively
gloomy. It was bordered on each side with rocks and precipices,

between which the rumbling of the chariot wheels was
reverberated with a noise like rolling thunder. The trees and

bushes that grew in the crevices of the rocks had very dismal
foliage; and by and by, although it was hardly noon, the air

became obscured with a gray twilight. The black horses had
rushed along so swiftly, that they were already beyond the

limits of the sunshine. But the duskier it grew, the more did
Pluto's visage assume an air of satisfaction. After all, he was

not an ill-looking person, especially when he left off twisting
his features into a smile that did not belong to them.

Proserpina peeped at his face through the gathering dusk, and
hoped that he might not be so very wicked as she at first

thought him.
"Ah, this twilight is truly refreshing," said King Pluto,

"after being so tormented with that ugly and impertinent glare
of the sun. How much more agreeable is lamplight or torchlight,

more particularly when reflected from diamonds! It will be a
magnificent sight, when we get to my palace."

"Is it much farther?" asked Proserpina. "And will you carry me
back when I have seen it?"

"We will talk of that by and by," answered Pluto. "We are just
entering my dominions. Do you see that tall gateway before us?

When we pass those gates, we are at home. And there lies my
faithful mastiff at the threshold. Cerberus! Cerberus! Come

hither, my good dog!"
So saying, Pluto pulled at the reins, and stopped the chariot

right between the tall, massive pillars of the gateway. The
mastiff of which he had spoken got up from the threshold, and

stood on his hinder legs, so as to put his fore paws on the
chariot wheel. But, my stars, what a strange dog it was! Why,

he was a big, rough, ugly-looking monster, with three separate
heads, and each of them fiercer than the two others; but fierce

as they were, King Pluto patted them all. He seemed as fond of
his three-headed dog as if it had been a sweet little spaniel,

with silken ears and curly hair. Cerberus, on the other hand,
was evidently rejoiced to see his master, and expressed his

attachment, as other dogs do, by wagging his tail at a great
rate. Proserpina's eyes being drawn to it by its brisk motion,

she saw that this tail was neither more nor less than a live
dragon, with fiery eyes, and fangs that had a very poisonous

aspect. And while the three-headed Cerberus was fawning so
lovingly on King Pluto, there was the dragon tail wagging

against its will, and looking as cross and ill-natured as you
can imagine, on its own separate account.

"Will the dog bite me?" asked Proserpina, shrinking closer to
Pluto. "What an ugly creature he is!"

"O, never fear," answered her companion. "He never harms
people, unless they try to enter my dominions without being

sent for, or to get away when I wish to keep them here. Down,
Cerberus! Now, my pretty Proserpina, we will drive on."

On went the chariot, and King Pluto seemed greatly pleased to