SOje RtberstDe Literature Scries 
 
 A WONDER-BOOK 
 
 FOR GIRLS AND BOYS 
 
 PART I. 
 
 BY 
 
 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 Boston : 4 Park Street ; New York : 85 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 378*388 Wabash Avenue 
 
 (Cfce iftitiergt&e pr e#j, <Camferi&0e 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 
 Introductory Note 9 
 
 Preface ’ . „ . 13 
 
 The Gorgon’s Head 15 
 
 The Golden Touch 51 
 
 The Paradise of Children 78 
 
 Notes 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Perseus showing the Gorgon’s Head Frontispiece 
 
 The Stranger appearing to Midas 58 
 
 Pandora opens the Box 94 
 
 Copyright, 1851, 
 
 By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 Copyright, 1879, 
 
 By ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP. 
 
 Copyright, 1883 and 1898, 
 
 By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 Houghton, Mifflin & Co. are the only authorized publishers 
 of the works of Longfellow, Whittier, Lowell, Holmes, Emer- 
 son, Thoreau, and Hawthorne. All editions which lack the 
 imprint or authorization of Houghton , Mifflin & Co. are issued 
 without the consent and contrary to the wishes of the authors or 
 their heirs. 
 
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 l 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 THE WONDER-BOOK 
 
 Even from the data to be obtained by a perusal of 
 his works, the general reader will be likely to infer 
 that Hawthorne took a vital interest in child-life ; and 
 in his published Note-Books are found many brief 
 memoranda which indicate his disposition to write for 
 children. After he married and had begun to rear 
 a family of his own, this interest of his in the ear- 
 liest developments of mind and character became, nat- 
 urally, much more active. He was accustomed to ob- 
 serve his children very closely. There are private 
 manuscripts still extant, which present exact records 
 of what his young son and elder daughter said or 
 did, from hour to hour ; the father seating himself in 
 their play-room and patiently noting all that passed. 
 
 To this habit of watchful and sympathetic scrutiny 
 we may attribute in part the remarkable felicity, the 
 fortunate ease of adaptation to the immature under- 
 standing, and the skilful appeal to fresh imaginations* 
 which characterize his stories for the young. Natural 
 tact and insight prompted, faithful study from the real 
 assisted, these productions. 
 
 While still living at Lenox, and soon after publish- 
 ing “ The House of the Seven Gables,” he sketched as 
 follows, in a letter to Mr. James T. Fields, May 23, 
 
10 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 1851, his plan for the work which this note accom- 
 panies : — 
 
 “ I mean to write, within six weeks or two months 
 4ext ensuing, a book of stories made up of classical 
 myths. The subjects are : The Story of Midas, with 
 liis Golden Touch, Pandora’s Box, The Adventure of 
 Hercules in quest of the Golden Apples, Bellerophon 
 and the Chimsera, Baucis and Philemon, Perseus and 
 Medusa ; these, I think, will be enough to make up a 
 volume. As a framework, I shall have a young col- 
 lege-student telling these stories to his cousins and 
 brothers and sisters, during his vacations, sometimes 
 at the fireside, sometimes in the woods and dells. Un- 
 less I greatly mistake, these old fictions will work up 
 admirably for the purpose ; and I shall aim at substi- 
 tuting a tone in some degree Gothic or romantic, or 
 any such tone as may best please myself, instead of 
 the classic coldness which is as repellant as the touch 
 of marble.” 
 
 With such precision as to time did he carry out this 
 scheme, that on the 15th of July he wrote the Preface 
 to the completed volume. It was unusual, however, 
 for him to work with such rapidity, or indeed to write 
 at all in the summer season ; and this exertion, com- 
 ing so soon after his work upon the romance, may 
 have had something to do with increasing a languor 
 which he had already begun to feel, and inducing him 
 to remove from Lenox in the autumn. While he re- 
 mained in Berkshire he had more or less literary com- 
 panionship, which is alluded to in the Note-Books and 
 also in the closing chapter of the “ W onder-Book,’* 
 where he likewise refers thus to himself : — 
 
 “ * Have we not an author for our next neighbor ? * 
 asked Primrose. 4 That silent man, who lives in the 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 11 
 
 old red house near Tanglewood Avenue, and whom we 
 sometimes meet, with two children at his side, in the 
 woods or at the lake. I think I have heard of his hav- 
 ing written a poem, or a romance, or an arithmetic, or 
 a school-history, or something of that kind.’ ” 
 
 The manuscript of the “ Wonder- Book ” is the only 
 one of Hawthorne’s completed books which, in its 
 original form, is owned by any member of his family. 
 The book was written on thin blue paper of rather 
 large size, and on both sides of the pages. Scarcely a 
 correction or an erasure occurs, from the beginning to 
 the end; and wherever an alteration was made, the 
 after-thought was evidently so swift that the author 
 did not stop to blot, for the word first written is merely 
 smeared into illegibility and another substituted for it. 
 It appears to be certain that, although Hawthorne 
 meditated long over what he intended to do and came 
 rather slowly to the point of publication, yet when the 
 actual task of writing was begun it proceeded rapidly 
 and with very little correction ; and in most cases 
 probably very little re-drafting was done. His private 
 correspondence exhibits the same easy flow of composi- 
 tion, in sentences of notable finish ; offering a marked 
 contrast, for example, to the habit of the historian 
 Motley, who even in his letters expunged words on 
 every page. 
 
 The “ W onder-Book ” proved to be a financial as 
 well as literary success, and was presently translated 
 
 and published in Germany. 
 
 G. P. Xu 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The author has long been of opinion that many of 
 the classical myths were capable of being rendered 
 into very capital reading for children. In the little 
 volume here offered to the public, he has worked up 
 half a dozen of them, with this end in view. A great 
 freedom of treatment was necessary to his plan ; but 
 it will be observed by every one who attempts to ren- 
 der these legends malleable in his intellectual furnace, 
 that they are marvellously independent of all tempo- 
 rary modes and circumstances They remain essen- 
 tially the same, after changes that would affect the 
 identity of almost anything else. 
 
 He does not, therefore, plead guilty to a sacrilege, 
 in having sometimes shaped anew, as his fancy dic- 
 tated, the forms that have been hallowed by an antiq- 
 uity of two or three thousand years. No epoch of time 
 can claim a copyright in these immortal fables. They 
 seem never to have been made ; and certainly, so long 
 as man exists, they can never perish ; but, by their in- 
 destructibility itself, they are legitimate subjects for 
 every age to clothe with its own garniture of manners 
 and sentiment, and to imbue with its own morality. 
 In the present version they may have lost much of 
 their classical aspect (or, at all events, the author has 
 not been careful to preserve it), and have, perhaps, 
 assumed a Gothic or romantic guise. 
 
14 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In performing this pleasant task, — for it has been 
 really a task fit for hot weather, and one of the most 
 agreeable, of a literary kind, which he ever undertook, 
 — the author has not always thought it necessary to 
 write downward, in order to meet the comprehension 
 of children. He has generally suffered the theme to 
 soar, whenever such was its tendency, and when he 
 himself was buoyant enough to follow without an ef- 
 fort. Children possess an unestimated sensibility to 
 whatever is deep or high, in imagination or feeling, so 
 long as it is simple, likewise. It is only the artificial 
 stnd the complex that bewilder them, 
 
 Lenox, July 15 , 1851 . 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD, 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PORCH, 
 
 INTRODUCTORY TO “ THE GORGON’S HEAD.” 
 
 Beneath the porch of the country-seat called Tan- 
 glewood, one fine autumnal morning, was assembled 
 a merry party of little folks, with a tall youth in the 
 midst of them. They had planned a nutting expedi- 
 tion, and were impatiently waiting for the mists to roll 
 up the hill-slopes, and for the sun to pour the warmth 
 of the Indian summer over the fields and pastures, and 
 into the nooks of the many-colored woods. There was 
 a prospect of as fine aTctay as ever gladdened the as- 
 pect of this beautiful and comfortable world. As yet, 
 however, the morning mist filled up the whole length 
 and breadth of the valley, above which, on a gently 
 sloping eminence, the mansion stood. 
 
 This body of white vapor extended to within less 
 than a hundred yards of the house. It completely hid 
 everything beyond that distance, except a few ruddy 
 or yellow tree-tops, which here and there emerged, and 
 were glorified by the early sunshine, as was likewise 
 the broad surface of the mist. Four or five miles off 
 to the southward rose the summit of Monument Moun- 
 tain, and seemed to be floating on a cloud. Some fit- 
 
16 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 teen miles farther away, in the same direction, ap- 
 peared the loftier Dome of Taconic, looking blue and 
 indistinct, and hardly so substantial as the vapory sea 
 that almost rolled over it. The nearer hills, which 
 bordered the valley, were half submerged, and were 
 specked with little cloud-wreaths all the way to their 
 tops. On the whole, there was so much cloud, and so 
 little solid earth, that it had the effect of a vision. 
 
 The children above-mentioned, being as full of life 
 as they could hold, kept overflowing from the porch of 
 Tanglewood, and scampering along the gravel-walk, or 
 rushing across the dewy herbage of the lawn. I can 
 hardly tell how many of these small people there were ; 
 not less then nine or ten, however, nor more than a 
 dozen, of all sorts, sizes, and ages, whether girls or 
 boys. They were brothers, sisters, and cousins, to- 
 gether with a few of their young acquaintances, who 
 had been invited by Mr. and Mrs. Pringle to spend 
 some of this delightful weather with their own chil- 
 dren, at Tanglewood. I am afraid to tell you their 
 names, or even to give them any names which other 
 children have ever been called by ; because, to my cer- 
 tain knowledge, authors sometimes get themselves into 
 great trouble by accidentally giving the names of real 
 persons to the characters in their books. For this rea- 
 son, I mean to call them Primrose, Periwinkle, Sweet 
 Fern, Dandelion, Blue Eye, Clover, Huckleberry, Cow- 
 slip, Squash-Blossom, Milkweed, Plantain, and Butter- 
 cup ; although, to be sure, such titles might better 
 suit a group of fairies than a company of earthly chil- 
 dren. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that these little folks were 
 to be permitted by their careful fathers and mothers, 
 uncles, aunts, or grandparents, to stray abroad into 
 
TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 17 
 
 the woods and fields, without the guardianship of some 
 particularly grave and elderly person. Oh no, indeed! 
 In the first sentence of my book, you will recollect that 
 I spoke of a tall youth, standing in the midst of the 
 children. His name — (and I shall let you know his 
 real name, because he considers it a great honor to 
 have told the stories that are here to be printed) — 
 his name was Eustace Bright. He was a student at 
 Williams College, and had reached, I think, at this 
 period, the venerable age of eighteen years ; so that 
 he felt quite like a grandfather towards Periwinkle, 
 Dandelion, Huckleberry, Squash-Blossom, Milkweed, 
 and the rest, who were only half or a third as vener- 
 able as he. A trouble in his eyesight (such as many 
 students think it necessary to have, nowadays, in order 
 to prove their diligence at their books) had kept him 
 from college a week or two after the beginning of the 
 term. But, for my part, I have seldom met with a 
 pair of eyes that looked as if they could see farther or 
 better than those of Eustace Bright. 
 
 This learned student was slender, and rather pale, 
 as all Yankee students are ; but yet of a healthy as- 
 pect, and as light and active as if he had wings to his 
 shoes. By the by, being much addicted to wading 
 through streamlets and across meadows, he had put on 
 cowhide boots for the expedition. He wore a linen 
 blouse, a cloth cap, and a pair of green spectacles, 
 which he had assumed, probably, less for the preserva- 
 tion of his eyes than for the dignity that they imparted 
 to his countenance. In either case, however, he might 
 as well have let them alone ; for Huckleberry, a mis* 
 chievous little elf, crept behind Eustace as he sat on 
 the steps of the porch, snatched the spectacles from his 
 nose, and clapped them on her own ; and as the stu* 
 
18 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 dent forgot to take them back, they fell off into the 
 grass, and lay there till the next spring. 
 
 Now, Eustace Bright, you must know 5 had won great 
 fame among the children, as a narrator of wonderful 
 stories ; and though he sometimes pretended to be an- 
 noyed, when they teased him for more, and more, and 
 always for more, yet I really doubt whether he liked 
 anything quite so well as to tell them. You might 
 have seen his eyes twinkle, therefore, when Clover, 
 Sweet Fern, Cowslip, Buttercup, and most of their 
 playmates, besought him to relate one of his stories, 
 while they were waiting for the mist to clear up. 
 
 44 Yes, Cousin Eustace,” said Primrose, who was a 
 bright girl of twelve, with laughing eyes, and a nose 
 that turned up a little, 44 the morning is certainly the 
 best time for the stories with which you so often tire 
 out our patience. We shall be in less danger of hurt- 
 ing your feelings, by falling asleep at the most in- 
 teresting points, — as little Cowslip and I did last 
 night ! ” 
 
 44 Naughty Primrose,” cried Cowslip, a child of six 
 years old ; 44 1 did not fall asleep, and I only shut my 
 eyes, so as to see a picture of what Cousin Eustace was 
 telling about. His stories are good to hear at night, 
 because we can dream about them asleep ; and good in 
 the morning, too, because then we can dream about 
 them awake. So I hope he will tell us one this very 
 minute.” 
 
 44 Thank you, my little Cowslip,” said Eustace ; 
 44 certainly you shall have the best story I can think 
 of, if it were only for defending me so well from that 
 naughty Primrose. But, children, I have already told 
 you so many fairy tales, that I doubt whether there is 
 a single one which you have not heard at least twice 
 
TANGLE WOOD PORCH. 19 
 
 over. I am afraid you will fall asleep in reality, if 1 
 repeat any of them again.” 
 
 44 No, no, no ! ” cried Blue Eye, Periwinkle, Plan- 
 tain, and half a dozen others. 46 W e like a story all 
 the better for having heard it two or three times be* 
 fore.” 
 
 And it is a truth, as regards children, that a storj 
 seems often to deepen its mark in their interest, not 
 merely by two or three, but by numberless repetitions* 
 But Eustace Bright, in the exuberance of his re- 
 sources, scorned to avail himself of an advantage 
 which an older story-teller would have been glad to 
 grasp at. 
 
 44 It would be a great pity,” said he, 44 if a man of 
 my learning (to say nothing of original fancy) could 
 not find a new story every day, year in and year out, 
 for children such as you. I will tell you one of the 
 nursery tales that were made for the amusement of 
 our great old grandmother, the Earth, when she was a 
 child in frock and pinafore. There are a hundred 
 such ; and it is a wonder to me that they have not 
 long ago been put into picture-books for little girls 
 and boys. But, instead of that, old gray -bearded 
 grandsires pore over them in musty volumes of Greek, 
 and puzzle themselves with trying to find out when, 
 and how, and for what they were made.” 
 
 44 Well, well, well, well, Cousin Eustace !” cried all 
 the children at once ; 44 talk no more about your sto- 
 ries, but begin.” 
 
 44 Sit down, then, every soul of you,” said Eustace 
 Bright, 44 and be all as still as so many mice. At the 
 slightest interruption, whether from great, naughty 
 Primrose, little Dandelion, or any other, I shall bite 
 the story short off between my teeth, and swallow the 
 
20 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 untold part. But, in the first place, do any of you 
 know what a Gorgon is ? ” 
 
 64 1 do,” said Primrose. 
 
 44 Then hold your tongue ! ” rejoined Eustace, who 
 had rather she would have known nothing about the 
 matter. 44 Hold all your tongues, and I shall tell you 
 a sweet pretty story of a Gorgon’s head.” 
 
 And so he did, as you may begin to read on the 
 next page. Working up his sophomorical erudition 
 with a good deal of tact, and incurring great obliga- 
 tions to Professor Anthon, he, nevertheless, disre- 
 garded all classical authorities, whenever the vagrant 
 audacity of his imagination impelled him to do so. 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 Perseus was the son of Danae, who was the 
 daughter of a king. And when Perseus was a very 
 little boy, some wicked people put his mother and 
 himself into a chest, and set them afloat upon the sea. 
 The wind blew freshly, and drove the chest away from 
 the shore, and the uneasy billows tossed it up and 
 down ; while Danae clasped her child closely to her 
 bosom, and dreaded that some big wave would dash 
 its foamy crest over them both. The chest sailed on, 
 however, and neither sank nor was upset ; until, when 
 night was coming, it floated so near an island that it 
 got entangled in a fisherman’s nets, and was drawn 
 out high and dry upon the sand. The island was 
 called Seriphus, and it was reigned over by King 
 Polydectes, who happened to be the fisherman’s 
 brother. 
 
 This fisherman, I am glad to tell you, was an ex- 
 ceedingly humane and upright man. He showed great 
 kindness to Danae and her little boy ; and continued 
 to befriend them, until Perseus had grown to be a 
 handsome youth, very strong and active, and skilful 
 in the use of arms. Long before this time, King 
 Polydectes had seen the two strangers — the mother 
 and her child — who had come to his dominions in a 
 floating chest. As he was not good and kind, like his 
 brother the fisherman, but extremely wicked, he re- 
 solved to send Perseus on a dangerous enterprise, in 
 which he would probably be killed, and then to do 
 
22 
 
 THE GORGON’S HEAR , 
 
 some great mischief to Danae herself. So this bad- 
 hearted king spent a long while in considering what 
 was the most dangerous thing that a young man could 
 possibly undertake to perform. At last, having hit 
 upon an enterprise that promised to turn out as fa- 
 tally as he desired, he sent for the youthful Perseus. 
 
 The young man came to the palace, and found the 
 king sitting upon his throne. 
 
 “ Perseus,” said King Polydectes, smiling craftily 
 upon him, “you are grown up a fine young man. You 
 and your good mother have received a great deal of 
 kindness from myself, as well as from my worthy 
 brother the fisherman, and I suppose you would not 
 be sorry to repay some of it.” 
 
 “ Please your Majesty,” answered Perseus, 44 1 
 would willingly risk my life to do so.” 
 
 “Well, then,” continued the king, still with a cun- 
 ning smile on his lips, “ I have a little adventure to 
 propose to you ; and, as you are a brave and enterpris- 
 ing youth, you will doubtless look upon it as a great 
 piece of good luck to have so rare an opportunity of 
 distinguishing yourself. You must know, my good 
 Perseus, I think of getting married to the beautiful 
 Princess Hippodamia ; and it is customary, on these 
 occasions, to make the bride a present of some far- 
 fetched and elegant curiosity. I have been a little 
 perplexed, I must honestly confess, where to obtain 
 anything likely to please a princess of her exquisite 
 taste. But, this morning, I flatter myself, I have 
 thought of precisely the article.” 
 
 “ And can I assist your Majesty in obtaining it ? ” 
 cried Perseus, eagerly. 
 
 “ You can, if you are as brave a youth as I believe 
 you to be,” replied King Polydectes, with the utmost 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 23 
 
 graciousness of manner. “ The bridal gift which I 
 have set my heart on presenting to the beautiful Hip- 
 podamia is the head of the Gorgon Medusa with the 
 snaky locks ; and I depend on you, my dear Perseus, 
 to bring it to me. So, as I am anxious to settle affairs 
 with the princess, the sooner you go in quest of the 
 Gorgon, the better I shall be pleased.” 
 
 “ I will set out to-morrow morning,” answered 
 Perseus. 
 
 14 Pray do so, my gallant youth,” rejoined the king. 
 • 6 And, Perseus, in cutting off the Gorgon’s head, be 
 careful to make a clean stroke, so as not to injure its 
 appearance. You must bring it home in the very best 
 condition, in order to suit the exquisite taste of the 
 beautiful Princess Hippodamia.” 
 
 Perseus left the palace, but was scarcely out of 
 hearing before Polydectes burst into a laugh ; being 
 greatly amused, wicked king that he was, to find how 
 readily the young man fell into the snare. The news 
 quickly spread abroad that Perseus had undertaken to 
 cut off the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. 
 Everybody was rejoiced ; for most of the inhabitants 
 of the island were as wicked as the king himself, and 
 would have liked nothing better than to see some 
 enormous mischief happen to Danae and her son. 
 The only good man in this unfortunate island of Seri- 
 phus appears to have been the fisherman. As Perseus 
 walked along, therefore, the people pointed after him, 
 and made mouths, and winked to one another, and 
 ridiculed him as loudly as they dared. 
 
 “ Ho, ho ! ” cried they ; “ Medusa’s snakes will sting 
 him soundly ! ” 
 
 Now, there were three Gorgons alive at that period; 
 and they were the most strange and terrible monsters 
 
24 : 
 
 THE GORGON’S HEAD . 
 
 that had ever been since the world was made, or that 
 have been seen in after days, or that are likely to be 
 seen in all time to come. I hardly know what sort of 
 creature or hobgoblin to call them. They were three 
 sisters, and seem to have borne some distant resem- 
 blance to women, but were really a very frightful and 
 mischievous species of dragon. It is, indeed, difficult 
 to imagine what hideous beings these three sisters 
 were. Why, instead of locks of hair, if you can be- 
 lieve me, they had each of them a hundred enormous 
 snakes growing on their heads, all alive, twisting, 
 wriggling, curling, and thrusting out their venomous 
 tongues, with forked stings at the end ! The teeth 
 of the Gorgons were terribly long tusks ; their hands 
 were made of brass ; and their bodies were all over 
 scales, which, if not iron, were something as hard and 
 impenetrable. They had wings, too, and exceedingly 
 splendid ones, I can assure you ; for every feather in 
 them was pure, bright, glittering, burnished gold, and 
 they looked very dazzlingly, no doubt, when the Gor- 
 gons were flying about in the sunshine. 
 
 But when people happened to catch a glimpse of 
 their glittering brightness, aloft in the air, they sel- 
 dom stopped to gaze, but ran and hid themselves as 
 speedily as they could. You will think, perhaps, that 
 they were afraid of being stung by the serpents that 
 served the Gorgons instead of hair, — or of having 
 their heads bitten off by their ugly tusks, — or of be- 
 ing torn all to pieces by their brazen claws. Well, to 
 be sure, these were some of the dangers, but by no 
 means the greatest, nor the most difficult to avoid. 
 For the worst thing about these abominable Gorgons 
 was, that, if once a poor mortal fixed his eyes full 
 upon one of their faces, he was certain, that very in- 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 25 
 
 stant to be changed from warm flesh and blood into 
 cold and lifeless stone ! 
 
 Thus, as you will easily perceive, it was a very dan- 
 gerous adventure that the wicked King Polydectes had 
 contrived for this innocent young man. Perseus him- 
 self, when he had thought over the matter, could not 
 help seeing that he had very little chance of coming 
 safely through it, and that he was far more likely to 
 become a stone image than to bring back the head of 
 Medusa with the snaky locks. For, not to speak of 
 other difficulties, there was one which it would have 
 puzzled an older man than Perseus to get over. Not 
 only must he fight with and slay this golden-winged, 
 iron-scaled, long-tusked, brazen-clawed, snaky-haired 
 monster, but he must do it with his eyes shut, or, at 
 least, without so much as a glance at the enemy with 
 whom he was contending. Else, while his arm was 
 lifted to strike, he would stiffen into stone, and stand 
 with that uplifted arm for centuries, until time, and 
 the wind and weather, should crumble him quite away. 
 This would be a very sad thing to befall a young man 
 who wanted to perform a great many brave deeds, and 
 to enjoy a great deal of happiness, in this bright and 
 beautiful world. 
 
 So disconsolate did these thoughts make him, that 
 Perseus could not bear to tell his mother what he had 
 undertaken to do. He therefore took his shield, girded 
 on his sword, and crossed over from the island to the 
 mainland, where he sat down in a solitary place, and 
 hardly refrained from shedding tears. 
 
 But, while he was in this sorrowful mood, he heard 
 a voice close beside him. 
 
 “ Perseus,” said the voice, “ why are you sad ? ” 
 
 He lifted his head from his hands, in which he had 
 
26 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD . 
 
 hidden it, and, behold ! all alone as Perseus had sup- 
 posed himself to be, there was a stranger in the soli- 
 tary place. It was a brisk, intelligent, and remarka- 
 bly shrewd-looking young man, with a cloak over his 
 shoulders, an odd sort of cap on his head, a strangely 
 twisted staff in his hand, and a short and very crooked 
 sword hanging by his side. He was exceedingly light 
 and active in his figure, like a person much accustomed 
 to gymnastic exercises, and well able to leap or run. 
 Above all, the stranger had such a cheerful, knowing, 
 and helpful aspect (though it was certainly a little 
 mischievous, into the bargain), that Perseus could not 
 help feeling his spirits grow livelier as he gazed at 
 him. Besides, being really a courageous youth, he felt 
 greatly ashamed that anybody should have found him 
 with tears in his eyes, like a timid little school-boy, 
 when, after all, there might be no occasion for despair. 
 So Perseus wiped his eyes, and answered the stranger 
 pretty briskly, putting on as brave a look as he could. 
 
 “ I am not so very sad,” said he, “ only thoughtful 
 about an adventure that I have undertaken.” 
 
 ^ Oho ! ” answered the stranger. “ Well, tell me 
 all about it, and possibly I may be of service to you. 
 I have helped a good many young men through adven- 
 tures that looked difficult enough beforehand. Per- 
 haps you may have heard of me. I have more names 
 than one ; but the name of Quicksilver suits me as 
 well as any other. Tell me what the trouble is, and we 
 will talk the matter over, and see what can be done.” 
 
 The stranger’s words and manner put Perseus into 
 quite a different mood from his former one. He re- 
 solved to tell Quicksilver all his difficulties, since he 
 could not easily be worse off than he already was, and, 
 *ery possibly, his new friend might give him some ad- 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 27 
 
 vice that would turn out well in the end. So he 
 let the stranger know, in few words, precisely what 
 the case was, — how that King Polydectes wanted the 
 head of Medusa with the snaky locks as a bridal gift 
 for the beautiful Princess Hippodamia, and how that 
 he had undertaken to get it for him, but was afraid of 
 being turned into stone. 
 
 “ And that would be a great pity,” said Quicksilver, 
 with his mischievous smile. “You would make a very 
 handsome marble statue, it is true, and it would be a 
 considerable number of centuries before you crumbled 
 away ; but, on the whole, one would rather be a young 
 man for a few years, than a stone image for a great 
 many.” 
 
 “Oh, far rather!” exclaimed Perseus, with the tears 
 again standing in his eyes. “ And, besides, what 
 would my dear mother do, if her beloved son were 
 turned into a stone ? ” 
 
 “Well, well, let us hope that the affair will not turn 
 out so very badly,” replied Quicksilver, in an encour- 
 aging tone. “ I am the very person to help you, if 
 anybody can. My sister and myself will do our ut- 
 most to bring you safe through the adventure, ugly as 
 it now looks.” 
 
 “ Your sister ? ” repeated Perseus. 
 
 “ Yes, my sister,” said the stranger. “ She is very 
 wise, I promise you ; and as for myself, I generally 
 have all my wits about me, such as they are. If you 
 show yourself bold and cautious, and follow our advice,, 
 you need not fear being a stone image yet awhile. 
 But, first of all, you must polish your shield, till you 
 can see your face in it as distinctly as in a mirror.” 
 
 This seemed to Perseus rather an odd beginning of 
 the adventure ; for he thought it of far more conse- 
 
28 
 
 THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 quence that the shield should be strong enough to de- 
 fend him from the Gorgon’s brazen claws, than that 
 it should be bright enough to show him the reflection 
 of his face. ^However, concluding that Quicksilver 
 knew better than himself, he immediately set to work, 
 and scrubbed the shield with so much diligence and 
 good-will, that it very quickly shone like the moon at 
 harvest-time. Quicksilver looked at it with a smile, 
 and nodded his approbation. Then, taking off his 
 own short and crooked sword, he girded it about Per- 
 seus, instead of the one which he had before worn. 
 
 “ No sword but mine will answer your purpose,” ob- 
 served he ; “ the blade has a most excellent temper, 
 and will cut through iron and brass as easily as through 
 the slenderest twig. And now we will set out. The 
 next thing is to find the Three Gray Women, who will 
 tell us where to find the Nymphs.” 
 
 “ The Three Gray Women!” cried Perseus, to 
 whom this seemed only a new difficulty in the path of 
 his adventure ; “ pray who may the Three Gray Wo- 
 men be ? I never heard of them before.” 
 
 “ They are three very strange old ladies,” said 
 Quicksilver, laughing. “ They have but one eye 
 among them, and only one tooth. Moreover, you 
 must find them out by starlight, or in the dusk of the 
 evening ; for they never show themselves by the light 
 either of the sun or moon.” 
 
 “ But,” said Perseus, “ why should I waste my time 
 with these Three Gray W omen ? W ould it not be 
 better to set out at once in search of the terrible Gor- 
 gons ? ” 
 
 “ No, no,” answered his friend. “ There are other 
 things to be done, before you can find your way to 
 the Gorgons. There is nothing for it but to hunt up 
 
THE GORGON'S HEAD . 
 
 29 
 
 these old ladies ; and when we meet with them, you 
 may be sure that the Gorgons are not a great way off. 
 Come, let us be stirring ! ” 
 
 Perseus, by this time, felt so much confidence in his 
 companion’s sagacity, that he made no more objections, 
 and professed himself ready to begin the adventure im- 
 mediately. They accordingly set out, and walked at a 
 pretty brisk pace ; so brisk, indeed, that Perseus found 
 it rather difficult to keep up with his nimble friend 
 Quicksilver. To say the truth, he had a singular idea 
 that Quicksilver was furnished with a pair of winged 
 shoes, which, of course, helped him along marvel- 
 lously. And then, too, when Perseus looked sideways 
 at him, out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to see 
 wings on the side of his head ; although, if he turned 
 a full gaze, there were no such things to be perceived, 
 but only an odd kind of cap. But, at all events, the 
 twisted staff was evidently a great convenience to 
 Quicksilver, and enabled him to proceed so fast, that 
 Perseus, though a remarkably active young man, be- 
 gan to be out of breath. 
 
 44 Here ! ” cried Quicksilver, at last, — for he knew 
 well enough, rogue that he was, how hard Perseus 
 found it to keep pace with him, — 44 take you the staff, 
 for you need it a great deal more than I. Are there 
 no better walkers than yourself in the island of Serb 
 phus?” 
 
 44 1 could walk pretty well,” said Perseus, glancing 
 slyly at his companion’s feet, 44 if I had only a pair of 
 winged shoes.” 
 
 44 We must see about getting you a pair,” answered 
 Quicksilver. 
 
 But the staff helped Perseus along so bravely, that 
 he no longer felt the slightest weariness. In fact, the 
 
30 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 stick seemed to be alive in his hand, and to lend some 
 of its life to Perseus. He and Quicksilver now walked 
 onward at their ease, talking very sociably together ; 
 and Quicksilver told so many pleasant stories about 
 his former adventures, and how well his wits had served 
 him on various occasions, that Perseus began to think 
 him a very wonderful person. He evidently knew the 
 world ; and nobody is so charming to a young man as 
 a friend who has that kind of knowledge. Perseus 
 listened the more eagerly, in the hope of brightening 
 his own wits by what he heard. 
 
 At last, he happened to recollect that Quicksilver 
 had spoken of a sister, who was to lend her assistance 
 in the adventure which they were now bound upon. 
 
 “ Where is she ? ” he inquired. “ Shall we not 
 meet her soon ? ” 
 
 “All at the proper time,” said his companion. 
 “But this sister of mine, you must understand, is 
 quite a different sort of character from myself. She 
 is very grave and prudent, seldom smiles, never 
 laughs, and makes it a rule not to utter a word un- 
 less she has something particularly profound to say. 
 Neither will she listen to any but the wisest conversa- 
 tion.” 
 
 “ Dear me ! ” ejaculated Perseus ; “ I shall be afraid 
 to say a syllable.” 
 
 “ She is a very accomplished person, I assure you,” 
 continued Quicksilver, “and has all the arts and 
 sciences at her fingers’ ends. In short, she is so im- 
 moderately wise, that many people call her wisdom 
 personified. But, to tell you the truth, she has hardly 
 vivacity enough for my taste ; and I think you would 
 scarcely find her so pleasant a travelling companion 
 as myself. She has her good points, nevertheless; 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 31 
 
 and you will find the benefit of them, in your en- 
 counter with the Gorgons.” 
 
 By this time it had grown quite dusk. They were 
 now come to a very wild and desert place, overgrown 
 with shaggy bushes, and so silent and solitary that 
 nobody seemed ever to have dwelt or journeyed there. 
 All was waste and desolate, in the gray twilight, 
 which grew every moment more obscure. Perseus 
 looked about him, rather disconsolately, and asked 
 Quicksilver whether they had a great deal farther 
 to go. 
 
 “Hist! hist!” whispered his companion. “Make 
 no noise! This is just the time and place to meet the 
 Three Gray Women. Be careful that they do not see 
 you before you see them ; for, though they have but a 
 single eye among the three, it is as sharp-sighted as 
 half a dozen common eyes.” 
 
 “ But what must I do,” asked Perseus, “ when we 
 meet them? ” 
 
 Quicksilver explained to Perseus how the Three 
 Gray Women managed with their one eye. They 
 were in the habit, it seems, of changing it from one to 
 another, as if it had been a pair of spectacles, or — 
 which would have suited them better — a quizzing- 
 glass. When one of the three had kept the eye a 
 certain time, she took it out of the socket and passed 
 it to one of her sisters, whose turn it might happen to 
 be, and who immediately clapped it into her own 
 head, and enjoyed a peep at the visible world. Thus 
 it will easily be understood that only one of the Three 
 Gray Women could see, while the other two were in 
 utter darkness ; and, moreover, at the instant when 
 the eye was passing from hand to hand, neither of the 
 poor old ladies was able to see a wink. I have heard 
 
32 
 
 THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 of a great many strange things, in my day, and have 
 witnessed not a few ; but none, it seems to me, that 
 can compare with the oddity of these Three Gray 
 W omen, all peeping through a single eye. 
 
 So thought Perseus, likewise, and was so astonished 
 that he almost fancied his companion was joking with 
 him, and that there were no such old women in the 
 world. 
 
 “ You will soon find whether I tell the truth or no,” 
 observed Quicksilver. “ Hark ! hush ! hist ! hist ! 
 There they come, now ! ” 
 
 Perseus looked earnestly through the dusk of the 
 evening, and there, sure enough, at no great distance 
 off, he descried the Three Gray Women. The light 
 being so faint, he could not well make out what sort 
 of figures they were; only he discovered that they 
 had long gray hair ; and, as they came nearer, he saw 
 that two of them had but the empty socket of an eye, 
 in the middle of their foreheads. But, in the middle 
 of the third sister’s forehead, there was a very large, 
 bright, and piercing eye, which sparkled like a great 
 diamond in a ring ; and so penetrating did it seem to 
 be, that Perseus could not help thinking it must pos- 
 sess the gift of seeing in the darkest midnight just as 
 perfectly as at noonday. The sight of three persons* 
 eyes was melted and collected into that single one. 
 
 Thus the three old dames got along about as com- 
 fortably, upon the whole, as if they could all see at 
 once. She who chanced to have the eye in her fore- 
 head led the other two by the hands, peeping sharply 
 about her, all the while ; insomuch that Perseus 
 dreaded lest she should see right through the thick 
 clump of bushes behind which he and Quicksilver had 
 hidden themselves. My stars ! it was positively terri* 
 ble to be within reach of so very sharp an eye ! 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD . 38 
 
 But* before they reached the clump of bushes, one 
 of the Three Gray Women spoke. 
 
 “ Sister ! Sister Scarecrow ! ” cried she, “ you have 
 had the eye long enough. It is my turn now ! ” 
 
 “Let me keep it a moment longer, Sister Night- 
 mare,” answered Scarecrow. “I thought I had a 
 glimpse of something behind that thick bush.” 
 
 “Well, and what of that?” retorted Nightmare, 
 peevishly. “ Can’t I see into a thick bush as easily as 
 yourself ? The eye is mine as well as yours ; and I 
 know the use of it as well as you, or may be a little 
 better. I insist upon taking a peep immediately ! ” 
 But here the third sister, whose name was Shake- 
 joint, began to complain, and said that it was her turn 
 to have the eye, and that Scarecrow and Nightmare 
 wanted to keep it all to themselves. To end the dis- 
 pute, old Dame Scarecrow took the eye out of her 
 forehead, and held it forth in her hand. 
 
 “Take it, one of you,” cried she, “and quit this 
 foolish quarrelling. For my part, I shall be glad of a 
 little thick darkness. Take it quickly, however, or I 
 must clap it into my own head again ! ” 
 
 Accordingly, both Nightmare and Shakejoint put 
 out their hands, groping eagerly to snatch the eye out 
 of the hand of Scarecrow. But, being both alike blind, 
 they could not easily find where Scarecrow’s hand 
 was ; and Scarecrow, being now just as much in the 
 dark as Shakejoint and Nightmare, could not at once 
 meet either of their hands, in order to put the eye 
 into it. Thus (as you will see, with half an eye, my 
 wise little auditors), these good old dames had fallen 
 into a strange perplexity. For, though the eye shone 
 and glistened like a star, as Scarecrow held it out, yet 
 the Gray Women caught not the least glimpse of its 
 
M 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 light, and were all three in utter darkness, from too 
 
 impatient a desire to see. 
 
 Quicksilver was so much tickled at beholding Shake- 
 joint and Nightmare both groping for the eye, and 
 each finding fault with Scarecrow and one another, 
 that he could scarcely help laughing aloud. 
 
 46 Now is your time ! ” he whispered to Perseus* 
 “ Quick, quick ! before they can clap the eye into 
 either of their heads. Rush out upon the old ladies, 
 and snatch it from Scarecrow’s hand ! ” 
 
 In an instant, while the Three Gray Women were 
 still scolding each other, Perseus leaped from behind 
 the clump of bushes, and made himself master of the 
 prize. The marvellous eye, as he held it in his hand, 
 shone very brightly, and seemed to look up into his 
 face with a knowing air, and an expression as if it 
 would have winked, had it been provided with a pair 
 of eyelids for that purpose. But the Gray Women 
 knew nothing of what had happened ; and, each sup- 
 posing that one of her sisters was in possession of the 
 eye, they began their quarrel anew. At last, as Per- 
 seus did not wish to put these respectable dames to 
 greater inconvenience than was really necessary, he 
 thought it right to explain the matter. 
 
 44 My good ladies,” said he, 44 pray do not be angry 
 with one another. If anybody is in fault, it is myself ; 
 for I have the honor to hold your very brilliant and 
 excellent eye in my own hand ! ” 
 
 44 You! you have our eye! And who are you?” 
 screamed the Three Gray W omen, all in a breath ; for 
 they were terribly frightened, of course, at hearing a 
 strange voice, and discovering that their eyesight had 
 got into the hands of they could not guess whom. 
 44 Oh, what shall we do, sisters? what shall we do? We 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 35 
 
 are all in the dark ! Give us our eye ! Give us our 
 one, precious, solitary eye! You have two of your 
 own ! Give us our eye ! ” 
 
 44 Tell them,” whispered Quicksilver to Perseus, 
 44 that they shall have back the eye as soon as they 
 direct you where to find the Nymphs who have the 
 flying slippers, the magic wallet, and the helmet of 
 darkness.” 
 
 44 My dear, good, admirable old ladies,” said Per- 
 seus, addressing the Gray Women, 44 there is no occa- 
 sion for putting yourselves into such a fright. I am 
 by no means a bad young man. You shall have back 
 your eye, safe and sound, and as bright as ever, the 
 moment you tell me where to find the Nymphs.” 
 
 44 The Nymphs ! Goodness me ! sisters, what Nymphs 
 does he mean ? ” screamed Scarecrow. 44 There are a 
 great many Nymphs, people say ; some that go a hunt- 
 ing in the woods, and some that live inside of trees, 
 and some that have a comfortable home in fountains 
 of water. We know nothing at all about them. We 
 are three unfortunate old souls, that go wandering 
 about in the dusk, and never had but one eye amongst 
 us, and that one you have stolen away. Oh, give it 
 back, good stranger ! — whoever you are, give it back ! ” 
 
 All this while the Three Gray W omen were grop- 
 ing with their outstretched hands, and trying their 
 utmost to get hold of Perseus. But he took good care 
 to keep out of their reach. 
 
 44 My respectable dames,” said he, — for his mother 
 had taught him always to use the greatest civility, — - 
 * 4 I hold your eye fast in my hand, and shall keep it 
 safely for you, until you please to tell me where to 
 find these Nymphs. The Nymphs, I mean, who keep 
 the enchanted wallet, the flying slippers, and the what 
 is it ? — the helmet of invisibility.” 
 
86 
 
 THE GORGON’S HEAD . 
 
 “ Mercy on us, sisters ! what is the young man talk- 
 ing about ? ” exclaimed Scarecrow, Nightmare, and 
 Shake joint, one to another, with great appearance of 
 astonishment. “ A pair of flying slippers, quoth he ! 
 His heels would quickly fly higher than his head, if 
 he were silly enough to put them on. And a helmet 
 of invisibility ! How could a helmet make him in- 
 visible, unless it were big enough for him to hide un- 
 der it ? And an enchanted wallet ! What sort of a 
 contrivance may that be, I wonder? No, no, good 
 stranger ! we can tell you nothing of these marvellous 
 things. You have two eyes of your own, and we 
 have but a single one amongst us three. You can 
 find out such wonders better than three blind old crea- 
 tures, like us.” 
 
 Perseus, hearing them talk in this way, began really 
 to think that the Gray Women knew nothing of the 
 matter ; and, as it grieved him to have put them to so 
 much trouble, he was just on the point of restoring 
 their eye and asking pardon for his rudeness in snatch- 
 ing it away. But Quicksilver caught his hand. 
 
 “ Don’t let them make a fool of you ! ” said he. 
 44 These Three Gray W omen are the only persons in 
 the world that can tell you where to find the Nymphs ; 
 and, unless you get that information, you will never 
 succeed in cutting off the head of Medusa with the 
 snaky locks. Keep fast hold of the eye, and all will 
 go well.” 
 
 As it turned out, Quicksilver was in the right. 
 There are but few things that people prize so much as 
 they do their eyesight ; and the Gray W omen valued 
 their single eye as highly as if it had been half a 
 dozen, which was the number they ought to have had. 
 Finding that there was no other way of recovering it. 
 
THE GORGON' S HEAD . 
 
 37 
 
 they at last told Perseus what he wanted to know. No 
 sooner had they done so, than he immediately, and 
 with the utmost respect, clapped the eye into the va- 
 cant socket in one of their foreheads, thanked them 
 for their kindness, and bade them farewell. Before 
 the young man was out of hearing, however, they had 
 got into a new dispute, because he happened to have 
 given the eye to Scarecrow, who had already taken her 
 turn of it when their trouble with Perseus commenced. 
 
 It is greatly to be feared that the Three Gray 
 Women were very much in the habit of disturbing 
 their mutual harmony by bickerings of this sort; 
 which was the more pity, as they could not conven- 
 iently do without one another, and were evidently in- 
 tended to be inseparable companions. As a general 
 rule, I would advise all people, whether sisters or 
 brothers, old or young, who chance to have* but one 
 eye amongst them, to cultivate forbearance, and not 
 all insist upon peeping through it at once. 
 
 Quicksilver and ^Perseus, in the mean time, were 
 making the best of their way in quest of the Nymphs. 
 The old dames had given them such particular direc- 
 tions, that they were not long in finding them out. 
 They proved to be very different persons from Night- 
 mare, Shakejoint, and Scarecrow ; for, instead of be- 
 ing old, they were young and beautiful ; and instead 
 of one eye amongst the sisterhood, each Nymph had 
 two exceedingly bright eyes of her own, with which 
 she looked very kindly at Perseus. They seemed to 
 be acquainted with Quicksilver; and, when he tcld 
 them the adventure which Perseus had undertaken, 
 they made no difficulty about giving him the valuable 
 articles that were in their custody. In the first place, 
 they brought out what appeared to be a small purse, 
 
38 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD . 
 
 made of deer skin, and curiously embroidered, and bade 
 him be sure and keep it safe. This was the magic 
 wallet. The Nymphs next produced a pair of shoes, 
 or slippers, or sandals, with a nice little pair of wings 
 at the heel of each. 
 
 “ Put them on, Perseus,” said Quicksilver. “You 
 will find yourself as light-heeled as you can desire for 
 the remainder of our journey.” 
 
 So Perseus proceeded to put one of the slippers 
 on, while he laid the other on the ground by his side. 
 Unexpectedly, however, this other slipper spread its 
 wings, fluttered up off the ground, and would proba- 
 bly have flown away, if Quicksilver had not made a 
 leap, and luckily caught it in the air. 
 
 “ Be more careful,” said he, as he gave it back to 
 Perseus. “It would frighten the birds, up aloft, if 
 they should see a flying slipper amongst them.” 
 
 When Perseus had got on both of these wonderful 
 slippers, he was altogether too buoyant to tread on 
 earth. Making a step or two, lo and behold ! upward 
 he popped into the air, high above Ihe heads of Quick- 
 silver and the Nymphs, and found it very difficult to 
 clamber down again. Winged slippers, and all such 
 high-flying contrivances, are seldom quite easy to 
 manage until one grows a little accustomed to them. 
 Quicksilver laughed at his companion’s involuntary 
 activity, and told him that he must not be in so des- 
 perate a hurry, but must wait for the invisible helmet. 
 
 The good-natured Nymphs had the helmet, with its 
 dark tuft of waving plumes, all in readiness to put 
 upon his head. And now there happened about as 
 wonderful an incident as anything that I have yet 
 told you. The instant before the helmet was put on, 
 there stood Perseus, a beautiful young man, with 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAR 
 
 39 
 
 golden ringlets and rosy cheeks, the crooked sword by 
 his side, and the brightly polished shield upon his 
 arm, — a figure that seemed all made up of courage, 
 sprightliness, and glorious light. But when the hel- 
 met had descended over his white brow, there was no 
 longer any Perseus to be seen ! Nothing but empty 
 air ! Even the helmet, that covered him with its in- 
 visibility, had vanished ! 
 
 “ Where are you, Perseus? ” asked Quicksilver. 
 
 “ Why, here, to be sure ! ” answered Perseus, very 
 quietly, although his voice seemed to come out of the 
 transparent atmosphere. “Just where I was a mo- 
 ment ago. Don’t you see me ? ” 
 
 “ No, indeed ! ” answered his friend. “ You are 
 hidden under the helmet. But, if I cannot see you, 
 neither can the Gorgons. Follow me, therefore, and 
 we will try your dexterity in using the winged slip- 
 pers.” 
 
 With these words, Quicksilver’s cap spread its 
 wings, as if his head were about to fly away from his 
 shoulders ; but his whole figure rose lightly into the 
 air, and Perseus followed. By the time they had as- 
 cended a few hundred feet, the young man began to 
 feel what a delightful thing it was to leave the dull 
 earth so far beneath him, and to be able to flit about 
 like a bird. 
 
 It was now deep night. Perseus looked upward, 
 and saw the round, bright, silvery moon, and thought 
 that he should desire nothing better than to soar up 
 thither, and spend his life there. Then he looked 
 downward again, and saw the earth, with its seas and 
 lakes, and the silver courses of its rivers, and its 
 snowy mountain-peaks, and the breadth of its fields, 
 and the dark cluster of its woods, and its cities of 
 
40 
 
 THE GORGON 9 S HEAD. 
 
 white marble ; and, with the moonshine sleeping over 
 the whole scene, it was as beautiful as the moon or 
 any star could be. And, among other objects, he saw 
 the island of Seriphus, where his dear mother was. 
 Sometimes he and Quicksilver approached a cloud, 
 that, at a distance, looked as if it were made of fleecy 
 silver; although, when they plunged into it, they 
 found themselves chilled and moistened with gray 
 mist. So swift was their flight, however, that, in an 
 instant, they emerged from the cloud into the moon- 
 light again. Once, a high-soaring eagle flew right 
 against the invisible Perseus. The bravest sights were 
 the meteors, that gleamed suddenly out, as if a bonfire 
 had been kindled in the sky, and made the moonshine 
 pale for as much as a hundred miles around them. 
 
 As the two companions flew onward, Perseus fancied 
 that he could hear the rustle of a garment close by his 
 side ; and it was on the side opposite to the one where 
 he beheld Quicksilver, yet only Quicksilver was visible. 
 
 “ Whose garment is this,” inquired Perseus, “ that 
 keeps rustling close beside me in the breeze ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, it is my sister’s ! ” answered Quicksilver. 
 “ She is coming along with us, as I told you she 
 would. We could do nothing without the help of my 
 sister. You have no idea how wise she is. She ha* 
 such eyes, too ! Why, she can see you, at this mo 
 ment, just as distinctly as if you were not invisible ; 
 and I ’ll venture to say, she will be the first to dis- 
 cover the Gorgons.” 
 
 f By this time, in their swift voyage through the air, 
 they had come within sight of the great ocean, and 
 were soon flying over it. Par beneath them, the 
 waves tossed themselves tumultuously in mid-sea, or 
 rolled a white surf-line upon the long beaches, or 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 
 
 41 
 
 foamed against the rocky cliffs, with a roar that waa 
 thunderous, in the lower world ; although it became a 
 gentle murmur, like the voice of a baby half asleep, 
 before it reached the ears of Perseus. Just then a 
 voice spoke in the air close by him. It seemed to be 
 a woman’s voice, and was melodious, though not ex- 
 actly what might be called sweet, but grave and mild. 
 
 “ Perseus,” said the voice, “ there are the Gorgons.” 
 
 “ Where ? ” exclaimed Perseus. “ I cannot see 
 them.” 
 
 “ On the shore of that island beneath you,” replied 
 the voice. “ A pebble, dropped from your hand, would 
 strike in the midst of them.” 
 
 “ I told you she would be the first to discover them,” 
 said Quicksilver to Perseus. “ And there they are ! ” 
 
 Straight downward, two or three thousand feet be- 
 low him, Perseus perceived a small island, with the sea 
 breaking into white foam all around its rocky shore, 
 except on one side, where there was a beach of snowy 
 sand. He descended towards it, and, looking earnestly 
 at a cluster or heap of brightness, at the foot of a pre- 
 cipice of black rocks, behold, there were the terrible 
 Gorgons ! They lay fast asleep, soothed by the thun- 
 der of the sea ; for it required a tumult that would 
 have deafened everybody else to lull such fierce crea- 
 tures into slumber. The moonlight glistened on their 
 steely scales, and on their golden wings, which drooped 
 idly over the sand. Their brazen claws, horrible to 
 look at, were thrust out, and clutched the wave-beaten 
 fragments of rock, while the sleeping Gorgons dreamed 
 of tearing some poor mortal all to pieces. The snakes 
 that served them instead of hair seemed likewise to be 
 asleep; although, now and then, one would writhe, 
 and lift its head, and thrust out its forked tongue, 
 
42 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 emitting a drowsy hiss, and then let itself subside 
 
 among its sister snakes. 
 
 The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigantic kind 
 of insect, — immense, golden-winged beetles, or dragon- 
 flies, or things of that sort, — at once ugly and beau- 
 tiful, — than like anything else ; only that they were 
 a thousand and a million times as big. And, with all 
 this, there was something partly human about them, 
 too. Luckily for Perseus, their faces were completely 
 hidden from him by the postu re in which they lay ; 
 for, had he but looked one instant at them, he would 
 have fallen heavily out of the air, an image of sense- 
 less stone. 
 
 44 Now,” whispered Quicksilver, as he hovered by the 
 side of Perseus, — “ now is your time to do the deed ! 
 Be quick ; for, if one of the Gorgons should awake, 
 you are too late ! ” 
 
 44 Which shall I strike at ? ” asked Perseus, draw- 
 ing his sword and descending a little lower. 44 They 
 all three look alike. All three have snaky locks. 
 Which of the three is Medusa? ” 
 
 It must be understood that Medusa was the only 
 one of these dragon-monsters whose head Perseus could 
 possibly cut off. As for the other two, let him have 
 the sharpest sword that ever was forged, and he might 
 have hacked away by the hour together, without doing 
 them the least harm. 
 
 44 Be cautious,” said the calm voice which had before 
 spoken to him. 44 One of the Gorgons is stirring in 
 her sleep, and is just about to turn over. That is 
 Medusa. Do not look at her ! The sight would turn 
 you to stone ! Look at the reflection of her face and 
 figure in the bright mirror of your shield.” 
 
 Perseus now understood Quicksilver’s motive for so 
 
THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 43 
 
 earnestly exhorting him to polish his shield. In its 
 surface he could safely look at the reflection of the Gor- 
 gon’s face. And there it was, — that terrible counte- 
 nance, — mirrored in the brightness of the shield, with 
 the moonlight falling over it, and displaying all its 
 horror. The snakes, whose venomous natures could 
 not altogether sleep, kept twisting themselves over the 
 forehead. It was the fiercest and most horrible face 
 that ever was seen or imagined, and yet with a strange, 
 fearful, and savage kind of beauty in it. The eyes 
 were closed, and the Gorgon was still in a deep slum- 
 ber ; but there was an unquiet expression disturbing 
 her features, as if the monster was troubled with an 
 ugly dream. She gnashed her white tusks, and dug 
 into the sand with her brazen claws. 
 
 The snakes, too, seemed to feel Medusa’s dream, and 
 to be made more restless by it. They twined them- 
 selves into tumultuous knots, writhed fiercely, and up- 
 lifted a hundred hissing heads, without opening their 
 eyes. 
 
 “ Now, now ! ” whispered Quicksilver, who was grow- 
 ing impatient. “ Make a dash at the monster ! ” 
 
 “ But be calm,” said the grave, melodious voice, at 
 the young man’s side. “ Look in your shield, as you 
 fly downward, and take care that you do not miss your 
 first stroke.” 
 
 Perseus flew cautiously downward, still keeping his 
 eyes on Medusa’s face, as reflected in his shield. The 
 nearer he came, the more terrible did the snaky visage 
 and metallic body of the monster grow. At last, when 
 he found himself hovering over her within arm’s length, 
 Perseus uplifted his sword, while, at the same instant, 
 each separate snake upon the Gorgon’s head stretched 
 threateningly upward, and Medusa unclosed her eyes. 
 
44 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD . 
 
 But she awoke too late. The sword was sharp ; the 
 stroke fell like a lightning-flash ; and the head of the 
 wicked Medusa tumbled from her body I 
 
 “Admirably done!” cried Quicksilver. “Make 
 haste, and clap the head into your magic wallet.” 
 
 To the astonishment of Perseus, the small, embroi- 
 dered wallet, which he had hung about his neck, and 
 which had hitherto been no bigger than a purse, grew 
 all at once large enough to contain Medusa’s head. 
 As quick as thought, he snatched it up, with the snakes 
 still writhing upon it, and thrust it in. 
 
 “ Your task is done,” said the calm voice. “ Now 
 fly ; for the other Gorgons will do their utmost to take 
 vengeance for Medusa’s death.” 
 
 It was, indeed, necessary to take flight ; for Perseus 
 had not done the deed so quietly but that the clash of 
 his sword, and the hissing of the snakes, and the thump 
 of Medusa’s head as it tumbled upon the sea-beaten 
 sand, awoke the other two monsters. There they sat, 
 for an instant, sleepily rubbing their eyes with their 
 brazen fingers, while all the snakes on their heads 
 reared themselves on end with surprise, and with ven- 
 omous malice against they knew not what. But when 
 the Gorgons saw the scaly carcass of Medusa, head- 
 less, and her golden wings all ruffled, and half spread 
 out on the sand, it was really awful to hear what yells 
 and screeches they set up. And then the snakes ! 
 They sent forth a hundred-fold hiss, with one consent, 
 and Medusa’s snakes answered them out of the magic 
 wallet. 
 
 No sooner were the Gorgons broad awake than they 
 hurtled upward into the air, brandishing their brass 
 talons, gnashing their horrible tusks, and flapping their 
 huge wings so wildly, that some of the golden feathers 
 
THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 45 
 
 were shaken out, and floated down upon the shore. And 
 there, perhaps, those very feathers lie scattered, till 
 this day. Up rose the Gorgons, as I tell you, staring 
 horribly about, in hopes of turning somebody to stone. 
 Had Perseus looked them in the face, or had he fallen 
 into their clutches, his poor mother would never have 
 kissed her boy again ! But he took good care to turn 
 his eyes another way ; and, as he wore the helmet of 
 invisibility, the Gorgons knew not in what direction 
 to follow him ; nor did he fail to make the best use of 
 the winged slippers, by soaring upward a perpendicu- 
 lar mile or so. At that height, when the screams of 
 those abominable creatures sounded faintly beneath 
 him, he made a straight course for the island of Seri- 
 phus, in order to carry Medusa’s head to King Poly- 
 dectes. 
 
 I have no time to tell you of several marvellous 
 things that befell Perseus, on his way homeward ; such 
 as his killing a hideous sea-monster, just as it was on 
 the point of devouring a beautiful maiden ; nor how 
 he changed an enormous giant into a mountain of 
 stone, merely by showing him the head of the Gorgon. 
 If you doubt this latter story, you may make a voy- 
 age to Africa, some day or . other, and see the very 
 mountain, which is still known by the ancient giant’s 
 name. 
 
 Finally, our brave Perseus arrived at the island, 
 where he expected to see his dear mother. But, dur- 
 ing his absence, the wicked king had treated Danae 
 so very ill that she was compelled to make her escape, 
 and had taken refuge in a temple, where some good 
 old priests were extremely kind to her. These praise- 
 worthy priests, and the kind-hearted fisherman, who 
 had first shown hospitality to Danae and little Perseus 
 
46 
 
 THE GORGON'S HEAD. 
 
 when he found them afloat in the chest, seem to have 
 been the only persons on the island who cared about 
 doing right. All the rest of the people, as well as 
 King Polydectes himself, were remarkably ill-behaved, 
 and deserved no better destiny than that which was 
 now to happen. 
 
 Not finding his mother at home, Perseus went 
 straight to the palace, and was immediately ushered 
 into the presence of the king. Polydectes was by nc 
 means rejoiced to see him ; for he had felt almost cer- 
 tain, in his own evil mind, that the Gorgons would 
 have torn the poor young man to pieces, and have 
 eaten him up, out of the way. However, seeing him 
 safely returned, he put the best face he could upon the 
 matter and asked Perseus how he had succeeded. 
 
 44 Have you performed your promise ? ” inquired he. 
 u Have you brought me the head of Medusa with the 
 snaky locks ? If not, young man, it will cost you dear ; 
 for I must have a bridal present for the beautiful Prin- 
 cess Hippodamia, and there is nothing else that she 
 would admire so much.” 
 
 44 Yes, please your Majesty,” answered Perseus, in a 
 quiet way, as if it were no very wonderful deed for 
 such a young man as he to perform. 44 1 have brought 
 you the Gorgon’s head, snaky locks and all ! ” 
 
 44 Indeed ! Pray let me see it,” quoth King Poly- 
 dectes. 44 It must be a very curious spectacle, if all 
 that travellers tell about it be true ! ” 
 
 44 Your Majesty is in the right,” replied Perseus. 
 * c It is really an object that will be pretty certain to 
 fix the regards of all who look at it. And, if your 
 Majesty think fit, I would suggest that a holiday be 
 proclaimed, and that all your Majesty’s subjects be 
 summoned to behold this wonderful curiosity. Few of 
 
THE GORGON’S HEAD. 47 
 
 them, I imagine, have seen a Gorgon’s head before, 
 and perhaps never may again ! ” 
 
 The king well knew that his subjects were an idle 
 set of reprobates, and very fond of sight-seeing, as idle 
 persons usually are. So he took the young man’s ad- 
 vice, and sent out heralds and messengers, in all di- 
 rections, to blow the trumpet at the street-corners, and 
 in the market-places, and wherever two roads met, and 
 summon everybody to court. Thither, accordingly, 
 came a great multitude of good-for-nothing vagabonds, 
 all of whom, out of pure love of mischief, would have 
 been glad if Perseus had met with some ill-hap in his 
 encounter with the Gorgons. If there were any better 
 people in the island (as I really hope there may have 
 been, although the story tells nothing about any such), 
 they stayed quietly at home, minding their business, 
 and taking care of their little children. Most of the 
 inhabitants, at all events, ran as fast as they could to 
 the palace, and shoved, and pushed, and elbowed one 
 another, in their eagerness to get near a balcony, on 
 which Perseus showed himself, holding the embroi- 
 dered wallet in his hand. 
 
 On a platform, within full view of the balcony, sat 
 the mighty King Polydectes, amid his evil counsellors, 
 and with his flattering courtiers in a semicircle round 
 about him. Monarch, counsellors, courtiers, and sub- 
 jects, all gazed eagerly towards Perseus. 
 
 44 Show us the head ! Show us the head ! ” shouted 
 the people ; and there was a fierceness in their cry as 
 if they would tear Perseus to pieces, unless he should 
 satisfy them with what he had to show. 44 Show us 
 the head of Medusa with the snaky locks ! ” 
 
 A feeling of sorrow and pity came over the youthful 
 Perseus. 
 
48 
 
 THE GORGON'S HE AH. 
 
 “ O King Polydectes,” cried he, 44 and ye many 
 people, I am very loath to show you the Gorgon’s 
 head!” 
 
 44 Ah, the villain and coward ! ” yelled the people, 
 more fiercely than before. 66 He is making game of 
 us ! He has no Gorgon’s head ! Show us the head, 
 if you have it, or we will take your own head for a 
 football ! ” 
 
 The evil counsellors whispered bad advice in the 
 king’s ear ; the courtiers murmured, with one consent, 
 that Perseus had shown disrespect to their royal lord 
 and master ; and the great King Polydectes himself 
 waved his hand, and ordered him, with the stern, deep 
 voice of authority, on his peril, to produce the head. 
 
 44 Show me the Gorgon’s head, or I will cut off your 
 own ! ” 
 
 And Perseus sighed. 
 
 44 This instant,” repeated Polydectes, 44 or you die ! ” 
 
 44 Behold it, then ! ” cried Perseus, in a voice like 
 the blast of a trumpet. 
 
 And, suddenly holding up the head, not an eyelid 
 had time to wink before the wicked King Polydectes, 
 his evil counsellors, and all his fierce subjects were no 
 longer anything but the mere images of a monarch 
 and his people. They were all fixed, forever, in the 
 look and attitude of that moment ! At the first 
 glimpse of the terrible head of Medusa, they whitened 
 into marble ! And Perseus thrust the head back into 
 his wallet, and went to tell his dear mother that she 
 need no longer be afraid of the wicked King Poly- 
 dectes. 
 
TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 AFTER THE STORY. 
 
 “ Was not that a very fine story ? ” asked Eustace. 
 
 “ Oh yes, yes ! ” cried Cowslip, clapping her hands. 
 “And those funny old women, with only one eye 
 amongst them ! I never heard of anything so 
 strange.” 
 
 “ As to their one tooth, which they shifted about,” 
 observed Primrose, “ there was nothing so very won- 
 derful in that. I suppose it was a false tooth. But 
 think of your turning Mercury into Quicksilver, and 
 talking about his sister ! You are too ridiculous ! ” 
 
 “ And was she not his sister ? ” asked Eustace 
 Bright. “ If I had thought of it sooner, I would 
 have described her as a maiden lady, who kept a pet 
 owl ! ” 
 
 “Well, at any rate,” said Primrose, “your story 
 seems to have driven away the mist.” 
 
 And, indeed, while the tale was going forward, the 
 vapors had been quite exhaled from the landscape. A 
 scene was now disclosed which the spectators might 
 almost fancy as having been created since they had 
 last looked in the direction where it lay. About half 
 a mile distant, in the lap of the valley, now appeared 
 a beautiful lake, which reflected a perfect image of its 
 own wooded banks, and of the summits of the more 
 distant hills. It gleamed in glassy tranquillity, with- 
 out the trace of a winged breeze on any part of its 
 
50 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PORCH. 
 
 bosom. Beyond its farther shore was Monument 
 Mountain, in a recumbent position, stretching almost 
 across the valley. Eustace Bright compared it to a 
 huge, headless sphinx, wrapped in a Persian shawl ; 
 and, indeed, so rich and diversified was the autumnal 
 foliage of its woods, that the simile of the shawl was 
 by no means too high-colored for the reality. In the 
 lower ground, between Tanglewood and the lake, the 
 clumps of trees and borders of woodland were chiefly 
 golden-leaved or dusky brown, as having suffered more 
 from frost than the foliage on the hill-sides. 
 
 Over all this scene there was a genial sunshine, in- 
 termingled with a slight haze, which made it unspeak- 
 ably soft and tender. Oh, what a day of Indian sum- 
 mer was it going to be ! The children snatched their 
 baskets, and set forth, with hop, skip, and jump, and 
 all sorts of frisks and gambols ; while Cousin Eustace 
 proved his fitness to preside over the party, by outdo- 
 ing all their antics, and performing several new capers, 
 which none of them could ever hope to imitate. Be- 
 hind went a good old dog, whose name was Ben. He 
 was one of the most respectable and kind-hearted of 
 quadrupeds, and probably felt it to be his duty not to 
 trust the children away from their parents without 
 some better guardian than this feather-brained Eus- 
 tace Bright. 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 SHADOW BROOK. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY TO u THE GOLDEN TOUCH.” 
 
 At noon, our juvenile party assembled in a dell, 
 through the depths of which ran a little brook. The 
 dell was narrow, and its steep sides, from the margin 
 of the stream upward, were thickly set with trees, 
 chiefly walnuts and chestnuts, among which grew a 
 few oaks and maples. In the summer time, the shade 
 of so many clustering branches, meeting and inter- 
 mingling across the rivulet, was deep enough to pro- 
 duce a noontide twilight. Hence came the name of 
 Shadow Brook. But now, ever since autumn had 
 crept into this secluded place, all the dark verdure 
 was changed to gold, so that it really kindled up the 
 dell, instead of shading it. The bright yellow leaves, 
 even had it been a cloudy day, would have seemed to 
 keep the sunlight among them ; and enough of them 
 had fallen to strew all the bed and margin of the 
 brook with sunlight, too. Thus the shady nook, where 
 summer had cooled herself, was now the sunniest spot 
 anywhere to be found. 
 
 The little brook ran along over its pathway of gold, 
 here pausing to form a pool, in which minnows were 
 darting to and fro : and then it hurried onward at a 
 
52 
 
 SHADOW BROOK 
 
 swifter pace, as if in haste to reach the lake.; and, for- 
 getting to look whither it went, it tumbled over the 
 root of a tree, which stretched quite across its current. 
 You would have laughed to hear how noisily it bab- 
 bled about this accident. And even after it had run 
 onward, the. brook still kept talking to itself, as if it 
 were in a maze. It was wonder-smitten, I suppose, at 
 finding its dark dell so illuminated, and at hearing 
 the prattle and merriment of so many children. So 
 it stole away as quickly as it could, and hid itself in 
 the lake. 
 
 In the dell of Shadow Brook, Eustace Bright and 
 his little friends had eaten their dinner. They had 
 brought plenty of good things from Tanglewood, in 
 their baskets, and had spread them out on the stumps 
 of trees, and on mossy trunks, and had feasted mer- 
 rily, and made a very nice dinner indeed. After it 
 was over, nobody felt like stirring. 
 
 “We will rest ourselves here,” said several of the 
 children, 46 while Cousin Eustace tells us another of 
 his pretty stories.” 
 
 Cousin Eustace had a good right to be tired, as well 
 as the children, for he had performed great feats on 
 that memorable forenoon. Dandelion, Clover, Cow- 
 slip, and Buttercup were almost persuaded that he had 
 winged slippers, like those which the Nymphs gave 
 Perseus ; so often had the student shown himself at 
 the tiptop of a nut-tree, when only a moment before 
 he had been standing on the ground. And then, what 
 showers of walnuts had he sent rattling down upon 
 their heads, for their busy little hands to gather into 
 the baskets ! In short, he had been as active as a 
 squirrel or a monkey, and now, flinging himself down 
 on the yellow leaves, seemed inclined to take a little 
 rest. 
 
SHADOW BROOR. 
 
 53 
 
 But children have no mercy nor consideration for 
 anybody’s weariness ; and if you had but a single 
 breath left, they would ask you to spend it in telling 
 them a story. 
 
 46 Cousin Eustace,” said Cowslip, 44 that was a very 
 nice story of the Gorgon’s Head. Do you think you 
 could tell us another as good ? ” 
 
 44 Yes, child,” said Eustace, p ullin g the brim of his 
 cap over his eyes, as if preparing for a nap. 44 1 can 
 tell you a dozen, as good or better, if I choose.” 
 
 44 O Primrose and Periwinkle, do you hear what he 
 says ? ” cried Cowslip, dancing with delight. 44 Cousin 
 Eustace is going to tell us a dozen better stories than 
 that about the Gorgon’s Head ! ” 
 
 44 1 did not promise you even one, you foolish little 
 Cowslip ! ” said Eustace, half pettishly. 44 However, I 
 suppose you must have it. This is the consequence of 
 having earned a reputation ! I wish I were a great 
 deal duller than I am, or that I had never shown half 
 the bright qualities with which nature has endowed 
 me ; and then I might have my nap out, in peace and 
 comfort ! ” 
 
 But Cousin Eustace, as I think I have hinted be- 
 fore, was as fond of telling his stories as the children 
 of hearing them. His mind was in a free and happy 
 state, and took delight in its own activity, and scarcely 
 required any external impulse to set it at work. 
 
 How different is this spontaneous play of the intel- 
 lect from the trained diligence of maturer years, when 
 toil has perhaps grown easy by long habit, and the 
 day’s work may have become essential to the day’s 
 comfort, although the rest of the matter has bubbled 
 away ! This remark, however, is not meant for the 
 children to hear. 
 
54 
 
 SHADOW BROOK. 
 
 Without further solicitation, Eustace Bright pro* 
 ceeded to tell the following really splendid story. It 
 had come into his mind as he lay looking upward into 
 the depths of a tree, and observing how the touch of 
 Autumn had transmuted every one of its green leaves 
 into what resembled the purest gold. And this 
 change, which we have all of us witnessed, is as won- 
 derful as anything that Eustace told about in the story 
 of Midas. 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 Once upon a time, there lived a very rich man, and 
 a king besides, whose name was Midas ; and he had 
 a little daughter, whom nobody but myself ever heard 
 of, and whose name I either never knew, or have en- 
 tirely forgotten. So, because I love odd names for 
 little girls, I choose to call her Marygold. 
 
 This King Midas was fonder of gold than of any- 
 thing else in the world. He valued his royal crown 
 chiefly because it was composed of that precious metal. 
 If he loved anything better, or half so well, it was the 
 one little maiden who played so merrily around her 
 father’s footstool. But the more Midas loved his 
 daughter, the more did he desire and seek for wealth. 
 He thought, foolish man ! that the best thing he could 
 possibly do for this dear child would be to bequeath 
 her the immensest pile of yellow, glistening coin, that 
 had ever been heaped together since the world was 
 made. Thus, he gave all his thoughts and all his time 
 to this one purpose. If ever he happened to gaze for 
 an instant at the gold-tinted clouds of sunset, he wished 
 that they were real gold, and that they could be 
 squeezed safely into his strong box. When little 
 Marygold ran to meet him, with a bunch of buttercups 
 and dandelions, he used to say, “ Poll, poh, child ! If 
 these flowers were as golden as they look, they would 
 be worth the plucking ! ” 
 
 And yet, in his earlier days, before he was so en- 
 tirely possessed of this insane desire for riches, King 
 
56 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH . 
 
 Midas had shown a great taste for flowers. He had 
 planted a garden, in which grew the biggest and beau- 
 tifullest and sweetest roses that any mortal ever saw 
 or smelt. These roses were still growing in the gar- 
 den, as large, as lovely, and as fragrant, as when 
 Midas used to pass whole hours in gazing at them, 
 and inhaling their perfume. But now, if he looked 
 at them at all, it was only to calculate how much the 
 garden would be worth if each of the innumerable rose- 
 petals were a thin plate of gold. And though he once 
 was fond of music (in spite of an idle story about his 
 ears, which were said to resemble those of an ass), the 
 only music for poor Midas, now, was the chink of one 
 coin against another. 
 
 At length (as people always grow more and more 
 foolish, unless they take care to grow wiser and wiser), 
 Midas had got to be so exceedingly unreasonable, that 
 he could scarcely bear to see or touch any object that 
 was not gold. He made it his custom, therefore, to 
 pass a large portion of every day in a dark and dreary 
 apartment, under ground, at the basement of his pal- 
 ace. It was here that he kept his wealth. To this 
 dismal hole — for it was little better than a dun- 
 geon — Midas betook himself, whenever he wanted 
 to be particularly happy. Here, after carefully lock- 
 ing the door, he would take a bag of gold coin, or a 
 gold cup as big as a washbowl, or a heavy golden 
 bar, or a peck-measure of gold-dust, and bring them 
 from the obscure corners of the room into the one 
 bright and narrow sunbeam that fell from the dun- 
 geon-like window. He valued the sunbeam for no 
 other reason but that his treasure would not shine 
 without its help. And then would he reckon over the 
 coins in the bag ; toss up the bar, and catch it as it 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 57 
 
 came down ; sift the gold-dust through his fingers ; 
 look at the funny image of his own face, as reflected 
 in the burnished circumference of the cup ; and whis- 
 per to himself, u O Midas, rich King Midas, what a 
 happy man art thou ! ” But it was laughable to see 
 how the image of his face kept grinning at him, out 
 of the polished surface of the cup. It seemed to be 
 aware of his foolish behavior, and to have a naughty 
 inclination to make fun of him. 
 
 Midas called himself a happy man, but felt that he 
 was not yet quite so happy as he might be. The very 
 tiptop of enjoyment would never be reached, unless 
 the whole world were to become his treasure-room, and 
 be filled with yellow metal which should be all his 
 own. 
 
 Now, I need hardly remind such wise little people 
 as you are, that in the old, old times, when King Mi- 
 das was alive, a great many things came to pass, 
 which we should consider wonderful if they were to 
 happen in our own day and country. And, on the 
 other hand, a great many things take place nowadays, 
 which seem not only wonderful to us, but at which the 
 people of old times would have stared their eyes out. 
 On the whole, I regard our own times as the strangest 
 of the two ; but, however that may be, I must go on 
 with my story. 
 
 Midas was enjoying himself in his treasure-room, 
 one day, as usual, when he perceived a shadow fall 
 over the heaps of gold ; and, looking suddenly up, 
 what should he behold but the figure of a stranger, 
 standing in the bright and narrow sunbeam ! It 
 was a young man, with a cheerful and ruddy face. 
 Whether it was that the imagination of King Midas 
 threw a yellow tinge over everything, or whatever the 
 
58 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH . 
 
 cause might be, he could not help fancying that the 
 smile with which the stranger regarded him had a 
 kind of golden radiance in it. Certainly, although 
 his figure intercepted the sunshine, there was now a 
 brighter gleam upon all the piled-up treasures than be- 
 fore. Even the remotest corners had their share of 
 it, and were lighted up, wdien the stranger smiled, as 
 with tips of flame and sparkles of fire. 
 
 As Midas knew that he had carefully turned the 
 key in the lock, and that no mortal strength could 
 possibly break into his treasure-room, he, of course, 
 concluded that his visitor must be something more 
 than mortal. > It is no matter about telling you who 
 he was. In those days, when the earth was com- 
 paratively a new affair, it was supposed to be often 
 the resort of beings endowed with supernatural power, 
 and who used to interest themselves in the joys and 
 sorrows of men, women, and children, half playfully 
 and half seriously. Midas had met such beings before 
 now, and was not sorry to meet one of them again. 
 The stranger’s aspect, indeed, was so good-humored 
 and kindly, if not beneficent, that it would have been 
 unreasonable to suspect him of intending any mischief. 
 It was far more probable that he came to do Midas a 
 favor. And what could that favor be, unless to multi- 
 ply his heaps of treasure ? 
 
 The stranger gazed about the room ; and when his 
 lustrous smile had glistened upon all the golden ob- 
 jects that were there, he turned again to Midas. 
 
 “ You are a wealthy man, friend Midas ! ” he ob- 
 served. “I doubt whether any other four walls, on 
 earth, contain so much gold as you have contrived to 
 pile up in this room.” 
 
 “ I have done pretty well, — pretty well,” answered 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 59 
 
 Midas, in a discontented tone. “ But, after all, it is 
 but a trifle, when you consider that it has taken me 
 my whole life to get it together. If one could live a 
 thousand years, he might have time to grow rich ! ” 
 
 44 What ! ” exclaimed the stranger. 44 Then you are 
 not satisfied ? ” 
 
 Midas shook his head. 
 
 44 And pray what would satisfy you ? ” asked the 
 stranger. 44 Merely for the curiosity of the thing, I 
 should be glad to know.” 
 
 Midas paused and meditated. He felt a presenti- 
 ment that this stranger, with such a golden lustre in 
 his good-humored smile, had come hither with both 
 the power and the purpose of gratifying his utmost 
 wishes. Now, therefore, was the fortunate moment, 
 when he had but to speak, and obtain whatever possi- 
 ble, or seemingly impossible thing, it might come into 
 his head to ask. So he thought, and thought, and 
 thought, and heaped up one golden mountain upon 
 another, in his imagination, without being able to im- 
 agine them big enough. At last, a bright idea oc- 
 curred to King Midas. It seemed really as bright as 
 the glistening metal which he loved so much. 
 
 Raising his head, he looked the lustrous stranger in 
 the face. 
 
 44 Well, Midas,” observed his visitor, 44 1 see that 
 you have at length hit upon something that will satisfy 
 you. Tell me your wish.” 
 
 44 It is only this,” replied Midas. 44 1 am weary of 
 collecting my treasures with so much trouble, and be- 
 holding the heap so diminutive, after I have done my 
 best. I wish everything that I touch to be changed 
 to gold ! ” 
 
 The stranger’s smile grew so very broad, that it 
 
60 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH . 
 
 seemed to fill the room like an outburst of the sun, 
 gleaming into a shadowy dell, where the yellow au- 
 tumnal leaves — for so looked the lumps and particles 
 of gold — lie strewn in the glow of light. 
 
 44 The Golden Touch ! ” exclaimed he. 44 You cer- 
 tainly deserve credit, friend Midas, for striking out so 
 brilliant a conception. But are you quite sure that 
 this will satisfy you ? ” 
 
 44 How could it fail? ” said Midas. 
 
 44 And will you never regret the possession of it ? ” 
 
 44 What could induce me? 5 ’ asked Midas. 44 1 ask 
 nothing else, to render me perfectly happy.” 
 
 44 Be it as you wish, then,” replied the stranger, 
 waving his hand in token of farewell. 44 To-morrow, 
 at sunrise, you will find yourself gifted with the 
 Golden Touch.” 
 
 The figure of the stranger then became exceedingly 
 bright, and Midas involuntarily closed his eyes. On 
 opening them again, he beheld only one yellow sun- 
 beam in the room, and, all around him, the glistening 
 of the precious metal which he had spent his life in 
 hoarding up. 
 
 Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the story 
 does not say. Asleep or awake, however, his mind 
 was probably in the state of a child’s, to whom a beau- 
 tiful new plaything has been promised in the morning. 
 At any rate, day had hardly peeped over the hills, 
 when King Midas was broad awake, and, stretching 
 his arms out of bed, began to touch the objects that 
 were within reach. He was anxious to prove whether 
 the Golden Touch had really come, according to the 
 stranger’s promise. So he laid his finger on a chair 
 by the bedside, and on various other things, but was 
 grievously disappointed to perceive that they remained 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 61 
 
 of exactly tlie same substance as before. Indeed, he 
 felt very much afraid that he had only dreamed about 
 the lustrous stranger, or else that the latter had been 
 making game of him. And what a miserable affair 
 would it be, if, after all his hopes, Midas must content 
 himself with what little gold he could scrape together 
 by ordinary means, instead of creating it by a touch ! 
 
 All this while, it was only the gray of the morning, 
 with but a streak of brightness along the edge of the 
 sky, where Midas could not see it. He lay in a very 
 disconsolate mood, regretting the downfall of his 
 hopes, and kept growing sadder and sadder, until the 
 earliest sunbeam shone through the window, and 
 gilded the ceiling over his head. It seemed to Midas 
 that this bright yellow sunbeam was reflected in rather 
 a singular way on the white covering of the bed. 
 Looking more closely, what was his astonishment and 
 delight, when he found that this linen fabric had 
 been transmuted to what seemed a woven texture of 
 the purest and brightest gold! The Golden Touch 
 had come to him with the first sunbeam ! 
 
 Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and 
 ran about the room, grasping at everything that hap- 
 pened to be in his way. He seized one of the bed- 
 posts, and it became immediately a fluted golden 
 pillar. He pulled aside a window-curtain, in order to 
 admit a clear spectacle of the wonders which he was 
 performing ; and the tassel grew heavy in his hand, 
 — a mass of gold. He took up a book from the table. 
 At his first touch, it assumed the appearance of such a 
 splendidly bound and gilt-edged volume as one often 
 meets with, nowadays ; but, on running his fingers 
 through the leaves, behold ! it was a bundle of thin 
 golden plates, in which all the wisdom of the book 
 
62 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 had grown illegible. He hurriedly put on his clothes, 
 and was enraptured to see himself in a magnificent 
 suit of gold cloth, which retained its flexibility and 
 softness, although it burdened him a little with its 
 weight. He drew out his handkerchief, which little 
 Marygold had hemmed for him. That was likewise 
 gold, with the dear child’s neat and pretty stitches 
 running all along the border, in gold thread ! 
 
 Somehow or other, this last transformation did not 
 quite please King Midas. He would rather that his 
 little daughter’s handiwork should have remained just 
 the same as when she climbed his knee and put it into 
 his hand. 
 
 But it was not worth while to vex himself about a 
 trifle. Midas now took his spectacles from his pocket, 
 and put them on his nose, in order that he might see 
 more distinctly what he was about. In those days, 
 spectacles for common people had not been invented, 
 but were already worn by kings; else, how could 
 Midas have had any ? To his great perplexity, how- 
 ever, excellent as the glasses were, he discovered that 
 he could not possibly see through them. But this was 
 the most natural thing in the world; for, on taking 
 them off, the transparent crystals turned out to be 
 plates of yellow metal, and, of course, were worthless 
 as spectacles, though valuable as gold. It struck 
 Midas as rather inconvenient that, with all his wealth, 
 he could never again be rich enough to own a pair of 
 serviceable spectacles. 
 
 “It is no great matter, nevertheless,” said he to 
 himself, very philosophically. “We cannot expect 
 any great good, without its being accompanied with 
 some small inconvenience. The Golden Touch is 
 worth the sacrifice of a pair of spectacles, at least, if 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH . 
 
 63 
 
 not of one’s very eyesight. My own eyes will serve 
 for ordinary purposes, and little Marygold will soon 
 be old enough to read to me.” 
 
 Wise King Midas was so exalted by his good for- 
 tune, that the palace seemed not sufficiently spacious 
 to contain him. He therefore went down stairs, and 
 smiled, on observing that the balustrade of the stair- 
 case became a bar of burnished gold, as his hand 
 passed over it, in his descent. He lifted the door- 
 latch (it was brass only a moment ago, but golden 
 when his fingers quitted it), and emerged into the 
 garden. Here, as it happened, he found a great num- 
 ber of beautiful roses in full bloom, and others in all 
 the stages of lovely bud and blossom. Very delicious 
 was their fragrance in the morning breeze. Their 
 delicate blush was one of the fairest sights in the 
 world ; so gentle, so modest, and so full of sweet 
 tranquillity, did these roses seem to be. 
 
 But Midas knew a way to make them far more 
 precious, according to his way of thinking, than roses 
 had ever been before. So he took great pains in 
 going from bush to bush, and exercised his magic 
 touch most indef atigably ; until every individual 
 flower and bud, and even the worms at the heart 
 of some of them, were changed to gold. By the 
 time this good work was completed, King Midas 
 was summoned to breakfast ; and as the morning air 
 had given him an excellent appetite, he made haste 
 back to the palace. 
 
 What was usually a king’s breakfast in the days of 
 Midas, I really do not know, and cannot stop now to 
 investigate. To the best of my belief, however, on 
 this particular morning, the breakfast consisted of hot 
 cakes, some nice little brook trout, roasted potatoes* 
 
64 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 fresh boiled eggs, and coffee, for King Midas himself, 
 and a bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Mary- 
 gold. At all events, this is a breakfast fit to set be- 
 fore a king; and, whether he had it or not, King 
 Midas could not have had a better. 
 
 Little Marygold had not yet made her appearance, 
 Her father ordered her to be called, and, seating him- 
 self at table, awaited the child’s coming, in order to 
 begin his own breakfast. To do Midas justice, he 
 really loved his daughter, and loved her so much the 
 more this morning, on account of the good fortune 
 which had befallen him. It was not a great while be- 
 fore he heard her coming along the passageway cry- 
 ing bitterly. This circumstance surprised him, because 
 Marygold was one of the cheerfullest little people 
 whom you would see in a summer’s day, and hardly 
 shed a thimbleful of tears in a twelvemonth. When 
 Midas heard her sobs, he determined to put little Ma- 
 rygold into better spirits, by an agreeable surprise; 
 so, leaning across the table, he touched his daughter’s 
 bowl (which was a China one, with pretty figures all 
 around it), and transmuted it to gleaming gold. 
 
 Meanwhile, Marygold slowly and disconsolately 
 opened the door, and showed herself with her apron 
 at her eyes, still sobbing as if her heart would break. 
 
 “ How now, my little lady ! ” cried Midas. “ Pray 
 what is the matter with you, this bright morning ? ” 
 
 Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, 
 held out her hand, in which was one of the roses which 
 Midas had so recently transmuted. 
 
 “ Beautiful ! ” exclaimed her father. “ And what 
 is there in this magnificent golden rose to make you 
 cry ? ” 
 
 * “ Ah, dear father ! ” answered the child, as well as 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 65 
 
 her sobs would let her ; “ it is not beautiful, but the 
 ugliest flower that ever grew ! As soon as I was dressed 
 I ran into the garden to gather some roses for you ; 
 because I know you like them, ’and like them the bet- 
 ter when gathered by your little daughter. But, oh 
 dear, dear me ! What do you think has happened ? 
 Such a misfortune ! All the beautiful roses, that 
 smelled so sweetly and had so many lovely blushes, 
 are blighted and spoilt ! They are grown quite yel- 
 low, as you see this one, and have no longer any fra- 
 grance ! "W hat can have been the matter with them ? 99 
 
 “ Poh, my dear little girl, — pray don’t cry about 
 it ! ” said Midas, who was ashamed to confess that he 
 himself had wrought the change which so greatly af- 
 flicted her. “ Sit down and eat your bread and milk ! 
 You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden 
 rose like that (which will last hundreds of years) for 
 an ordinary one which would wither in a day.” 
 
 “ I don’t care for such roses as this ! ” cried Mary- 
 gold, tossing it contemptuously away. “ It has no 
 smell, and the hard petals prick my nose ! ” 
 
 The child now sat down to table, but was so occu- 
 pied with her grief for the blighted roses that she did 
 not even notice the wonderful transmutation of her 
 China bowl. Perhaps this was all the better ; for 
 Marygold was accustomed to take pleasure in looking 
 at the queer figures, and strange trees and houses, that 
 were painted on the circumference of the bowl ; and 
 these ornaments were now entirely lost in the yellow 
 hue of the metal. 
 
 Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee, 
 and, as a matter of course, the coffee-pot, whatever 
 metal it may have been when he took it up, was gold 
 when he set it down. He thought to himself, that it 
 
66 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 was rather an extravagant style of splendor, in a king 
 of his simple habits, to breakfast off a service of gold, 
 and began to be puzzled with the difficulty of keeping 
 his treasures safe. The cupboard and the kitchen 
 would no longer be a secure place of deposit for artb 
 cles so valuable as golden bowls and coffee-pots. 
 
 Amid these thoughts, he lifted a spoonful of coffee 
 to his lips, and, sipping it, was astonished to perceive 
 that, the instant his lips touched the liquid, it became 
 molten gold, and, the next moment, hardened into a 
 lump ! 
 
 Ha ! ” exclaimed Midas, rather aghast. 
 
 u What is the matter, father? ” asked little Mary- 
 gold, gazing at him, with the tears still standing in her 
 eyes. 
 
 “ Nothing, child, nothing ! ” said Midas. “ Eat your 
 milk, before it gets quite cold.” 
 
 He took one of the nice little trouts on his plate, 
 and, by way of experiment, touched its tail with his 
 finger. To his horror, it was immediately transmuted 
 from an admirably fried brook-trout into a gold-fish, 
 though not one of those gold-fishes which people often 
 keep in glass globes, as ornaments for the parlor. 
 No ; but it was really a metallic fish, and looked as if 
 it had been very cunningly made by the nicest gold- 
 smith in the world. ^Its little bones were now golden 
 wires ; its fins and tail were thin plates of gold ; and 
 there were the marks of the fork in it, and all the de- 
 licate, frothy appearance of a nicely fried fish, exactly 
 imitated in metal. A very pretty piece of work, as 
 you may suppose ; only King Midas, just at that mo- 
 ment, would much rather have had a real trout in his 
 dish than this elaborate and valuable imitation of one. 
 
 “ I don’t quite see,” thought he to himself, “ how I 
 am to get any breakfast i ” 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH . 
 
 67 
 
 He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and had 
 scarcely broken it, when, to his cruel mortification, 
 though, a moment before, it had been of the whitest 
 wheat, it assumed the yellow hue of Indian meal. 
 To say the truth, if it had really been a hot Indian 
 cake, Midas would have prized it a good deal more 
 than he now did, when its solidity and increased 
 weight made him too bitterly sensible that it was gold. 
 Almost in despair, he helped himself to a boiled egg, 
 which immediately underwent a change similar to 
 those of the trout and the cake. The egg, indeed, 
 might have been mistaken for one of those which 
 the famous goose, in the story-book, was in the habit 
 of laying ; but King Midas was the only goose that 
 had had anything to do with the matter. 
 
 Well, this is a quandary!” thought he, leaning 
 back in his chair, and looking quite enviously at little 
 Marygold, who was now eating her bread and milk 
 with great satisfaction. “ Such a costly breakfast be- 
 fore me, and nothing that can be eaten ! ” 
 
 Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he might 
 avoid what he now felt to be a considerable inconven- 
 ience, King Midas next snatched a hot potato, and at- 
 tempted to cram it into his mouth, and swallow it in 3 
 hurry. But the Golden Touch was too nimble for him. 
 He found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but of 
 solid metal, which so burnt his tongue that he roared 
 aloud, and, jumping up from the table, began to dance 
 and stamp about the room, both with pain and affright. 
 
 “ Father, dear father ! ” cried little Marygold, who 
 was a very affectionate child, “pray what is the matter? 
 Have you burnt your mouth ? ” 
 
 “ Ah, dear child,” groaned Midas, dolefully, “ I 
 don’t know what is to become of your poor f ather ! ” 
 
G8 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 And, truly, my dear little folks, did yon ever hear of 
 such a pitiable case in all your lives ? Here was liter- 
 ally the richest breakfast that could be set before a 
 king, and its very richness made it absolutely good 
 for nothing. The poorest laborer, sitting down to his 
 crust of bread and cup of water, was far better off 
 t ban King Midas, whose delicate food was really worth 
 its weight in gold. And what was to be done ? Al- 
 ready, at breakfast, Midas was excessively hungry. 
 Would he be less so by dinner-time ? And how rav- 
 enous would be his appetite for supper, which must 
 undoubtedly consist of the same sort of indigestible 
 dishes as those now before him ! How many days, 
 think you, would he survive a continuance of this rich 
 fare ? 
 
 These reflections so troubled wise King Midas, that 
 he began to doubt whether, after all, riches are the one 
 desirable thing in the world, or even the most desir- 
 able. But this was only a passing thought. So fas- 
 cinated was Midas with the glitter of the yellow metal, 
 that he would still have refused to give up the Golden 
 Touch for so paltry a consideration as a breakfast. 
 Just imagine what a price for one meal’s victuals ! It 
 would have been the same as paying millions and mill- 
 ions of money (and as many millions more as would 
 take forever to reckon up) for some fried trout, an 
 2 gg, a potato, a hot cake, and a cup of coffee ! 
 
 “ It would be quite too dear,” thought Midas. 
 
 Nevertheless, so great was his hunger, and the per- 
 plexity of his situation, that he again groaned aloud, 
 and very grievously too. Our pretty Marygold could 
 endure it no longer. She sat, a moment, gazing at 
 her father, and trying, with all the might of her little 
 wits, to find out what was the matter with him. Then, 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 69 
 
 with a sweet and sorrowful impulse to comfort him, she 
 started from her chair, and, running to Midas, threw 
 her arms affectionately about his knees. He bent down 
 and kissed her. He felt that his little daughter’s love 
 was worth a thousand times more than he had gained 
 by the Golden Touch. 
 
 44 My precious, precious Marygold ! ” cried he. 
 
 But Marygold made no answer. 
 
 Alas, what had he done ? How fatal was the gift 
 which the stranger bestowed ! The moment the lips 
 of Midas touched Marygold’s forehead, a change had 
 taken place. Her sweet, rosy face, so full of affection 
 as it had been, assumed a glittering yellow color, with 
 yellow tear-drops congealing on her cheeks. Her 
 beautiful brown ringlets took the same tint. Her soft 
 and tender little form grew hard and inflexible within 
 her father’s encircling arms. Oh, terrible misfortune ! 
 The victim of his insatiable desire for wealth, little 
 Marygold was a human child no longer, but a golden 
 statue ! 
 
 Yes, there she was, with the questioning look of love, 
 grief, and pity, hardened into her face. It was the 
 prettiest and most woful sight that ever mortal saw. 
 All the features and tokens of Marygold were there ; 
 even the beloved little dimple remained in her golden 
 chin. But, the more perfect was the resemblance, the 
 greater was the father’s agony at beholding this golden 
 image, which was all that was left him of a daughter. 
 It had been a favorite phrase of Midas, whenever he 
 felt particularly fond of the child, to say that she was 
 worth her weight in gold. And now the phrase had 
 become literally true. And now, at last, when it was 
 too late, he felt how infinitely a warm and tender heart, 
 that loved him, exceeded in value all the wealth that 
 could be piled up betwixt the earth and sky ! 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 70 
 
 It would be too sad a story, if I were to tell you how 
 Midas, in the fulness of all his gratified desires, began 
 to wring his hands and bemoan himself ; and how he 
 could neither bear to look at Marygold, nor yet to look 
 away from her. Except when his eyes were fixed on 
 the image, he could not possibly believe that she was 
 changed to gold. But, stealing another glance, there 
 was the precious little figure, with a yellow tear-drop 
 on its yellow cheek, and a look so piteous and tender, 
 that it seemed as if that very expression must needs 
 soften the gold, and make it flesh again. This, how- 
 ever, could not be. So Midas had only to wring his 
 hands, and to wish that he were the poorest man in 
 the wide world, if the loss of all his wealth might 
 bring back the faintest rose-color to his dear child’s 
 face. v 
 
 While he was in this tumult of despair, he suddenly 
 beheld a stranger standing near the door. Midas bent 
 down his head, without speaking ; for he recognized 
 the same figure which had appeared to him, the day 
 before, in the treasure-room, and had bestowed on him 
 this disastrous faculty of the Golden Touch. The 
 stranger’s countenance still wore a smile, which seemed 
 to shed a yellow lustre all about the room, and gleamed 
 on little Marygold’s image, and on the other objects 
 that had been transmuted by the touch of Midas. 
 
 “ Well, friend Midas,” said the stranger, “ pray how 
 do you succeed with the Golden Touch ? ” 
 
 Midas shook his head. 
 
 “ I am very miserable,” said he. 
 
 u Very miserable, indeed ! ” exclaimed the stranger. 
 “ And how happens that ? Have I not faithfully kept 
 my promise with you ? Have you not everything that 
 your heart desired ? ” 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 71 
 
 44 Gold is not everything,” answered Midas. 44 And 
 I have lost all that my heart really cared for.” 
 
 44 Ah! So you have made a discovery, since yes- 
 terday ? ” observed the stranger. 44 Let us see, then. 
 Which of these two things do you think is really worth 
 the most, — the gift of the Golden Touch, or one cup 
 of clear cold water ? ” 
 
 44 O blessed water ! ” exclaimed Midas. 44 It will 
 never moisten my parched throat again ! ” 
 
 44 The Golden Touch,” continued the stranger, 44 or 
 a crust of bread ? ” 
 
 44 A piece of bread,” answered Midas, 44 is worth all 
 the gold on earth ! ” 
 
 44 The Golden Touch,” asked the stranger, 44 or your 
 own little Marygold, warm, soft, and loving as she was 
 an hour ago ? ” 
 
 44 Oh my child, my dear child ! ” cried poor Midas, 
 wringing his hands. 44 1 would not have given that 
 one small dimple in her chin for the power of chang- 
 ing this whole big earth into a solid lump of gold ! ” 
 
 44 You are wiser than you were, King Midas ! ” said 
 the stranger, looking seriously at him. 44 Your own 
 heart, I perceive, has not been entirely changed from 
 flesh to gold. Were it so, your case would indeed be 
 desperate. But you appear to be still capable of under- 
 standing that the commonest things, such as lie within 
 everybody’s grasp, are more valuable than the riches 
 which so many mortals sigh and struggle after. Tell 
 me, now, do you sincerely desire to rid yourself of this 
 Golden Touch ? ” 
 
 It is hateful to me ! ” replied Midas. 
 
 A fly settled on his nose, but immediately fell to the 
 floor ; for it, too, had become gold. Midas shuddered. 
 
 44 Go, then,” said the stranger, 44 and plunge into the 
 
72 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 river that glides past the bottom of your garden. Take 
 likewise a vase of the same water, and sprinkle it over 
 any object that you may desire to change back again 
 from gold into its former substance. If you do this in 
 earnestness and sincerity, it may possibly repair the 
 mischief which your avarice has occasioned.” 
 
 King Midas bowed low; and when he lifted his 
 head, the lustrous stranger had vanished. 
 
 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 has- 
 tening to the river-side. As he scampered along, and 
 forced his way through the shrubbery, it was positively 
 marvellous 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 head- 
 long in, without waiting so much as to pull off his 
 shoes. 
 
 “ Poof ! poof ! poof ! ” snorted King Midas, as his 
 head emerged out of the water. “ W ell ; 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 glad- 
 dened 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 transmuting itself into insensible metal, 
 but had now softened back again into flesh. Perceiv- 
 ing a violet, that grew on the bank of the river, Midas 
 touched it with his finger, and was overjoyed to find 
 
THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 73 
 
 that the delicate flower retained its purple hue, in- 
 stead of undergoing a yellow blight. The curse of 
 the Golden Touch had, therefore, really been removed 
 from him. 
 
 King Midas hastened back to the palace; and, I 
 suppose, the servants knew not what to make of it 
 when they saw their royal master so carefully bringing 
 home an earthen pitcher of water. But that water, 
 which was to undo all the mischief that his folly had 
 wrought, was more precious to Midas than an ocean of 
 molten gold could have been. The first thing he did, 
 as you need hardly be told, was to sprinkle it by hand- 
 fuls over the golden figure of little Marygold. 
 
 No sooner did it fall on her than you would have 
 laughed to see how the rosy color came back to the 
 dear child’s cheek! and how she began to sneeze and 
 sputter ! — and how astonished she was to find her- 
 self dripping wet, and her father still throwing more 
 water over her ! 
 
 44 Pray do not, dear father ! ” cried she. 44 See how 
 you have wet my nice frock, which I put on only this 
 morning ! ” 
 
 For Marygold did not know that she had been a lit- 
 tle golden statue ; nor could she remember anything 
 that had happened since the moment when she ran 
 with outstretched arms to comfort poor King Midas. 
 
 Her father did not think it necessary to tell his be- 
 loved child how very foolish he had been, but contented 
 himself with showing how much wiser he had now 
 grown. For this purpose, he led little Marygold into 
 the garden, where he sprinkled all the remainder of the 
 water over the rose-bushes, and with such good effect 
 that above five thousand roses recovered their beautiful 
 bloom. There were two circumstances, however, which, 
 
74 
 
 THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 
 
 as long as lie lived, used to put King Midas in mind 
 of the Golden Touch. One was, that the sands of the 
 river sparkled like gold ; the other, that little Mary- 
 gold’s hair had now a golden tinge, which he had never 
 observed in it before she had been transmuted by the 
 effect of his kiss. This change of hue was really an 
 improvement, and made Marygold’s hair richer than 
 in her babyhood. 
 
 When King Midas had grown quite an old man, and 
 used to trot Marygold’s children on his knee, he was 
 fond of telling them this marvellous story, pretty much 
 as I have now told it to you. And then would he 
 stroke their glossy ringlets, and tell them that their 
 hair, likewise, had a rich shade of gold, which they had 
 inherited from their mother. 
 
 66 And to tell you the truth, my precious little folks,” 
 quoth King Midas, diligently trotting the children all 
 the while, 46 ever since that morning, I have hated the 
 mary sight of all other gold ? save this I ” 
 
SHADOW BROOK. 
 
 AFTER THE STORY. 
 
 44 Well, children,” inquired Eustace, who was very 
 fond of eliciting a definite opinion from his auditors, 
 44 did you ever, in all your lives, listen to a better story 
 than this of 4 The Golden Touch ’ ? ” 
 
 44 Why, as to the story of King Midas,” said saucy 
 Primrose, 44 it was a famous one thousands of years be- 
 fore Mr. Eustace Bright came into the world, and will 
 continue to be so as long after he quits it. But some 
 people have what we may call 4 The Leaden Touch,’ 
 and make everything dull and heavy that they lay 
 their fingers upon.” 
 
 44 You are a smart child, Primrose, to be not yet in 
 your teens,” said Eustace, taken rather aback by the 
 piquancy of her criticism. 44 But you well know, in 
 your naughty little heart, that I have burnished the 
 old gold of Midas all over anew, and have made it 
 shine as it never shone before. And then that figure 
 of Marygold ! Do you perceive no nice workmanship 
 in that ? And how finely I have brought out and 
 deepened the moral ! What say you, Sweet Fern, 
 Dandelion, Clover, Periwinkle? Would any of you, 
 after hearing this story, be so foolish as to desire the 
 faculty of changing things to gold ? ” 
 
 44 1 should like,” said Periwinkle, a girl of ten, 44 to 
 have the power of turning everything to gold with my 
 right forefinger ; but, with my left forefinger, I should 
 
76 
 
 SHADOW BROOK. 
 
 want the power of changing it back again, if the first 
 change did not please me. And I know what I would 
 do, this very afternoon ! ” 
 
 u Pray tell me,” said Eustace. 
 
 “ Why,” answered Periwinkle, “ I would touch every 
 one of these golden leaves on the trees with my left 
 forefinger, and make them all green again ; so that we 
 might have the summer back at once, with no ugly 
 winter in the mean time.” 
 
 “ O Periwinkle ! ” cried Eustace Bright, “ there you 
 are wrong, and would do a great deal of mischief. 
 Were I Midas, I would make nothing else but just 
 such golden days as these over and over again, all the 
 year throughout. My best thoughts always come a 
 little too late. Why did not I tell you how old King 
 Midas came to America, and changed the dusky au- 
 tumn, such as it is in other countries, into the bur- 
 nished beauty which it here puts on ? He gilded the 
 leaves of the great volume of Nature.” 
 
 “ Cousin Eustace,” said Sweet Fern, a good little 
 boy, who was always making particular inquiries about 
 the precise height of giants and the littleness of fai- 
 ries, “ how big was Marygold, and how much did she 
 weigh after she was turned to gold ? ” 
 
 “ She was about as tall as you are,” replied Eus- 
 tace, “ and, as gold is very heavy, she weighed at least 
 two thousand pounds, and might have been coined into 
 thirty or forty thousand gold dollars. I wish Prim- 
 rose were worth half as much. Come, little people, 
 let us clamber out of the dell, and look about us.” 
 
 They did so. The sun was now an hour or two be- 
 yond its noontide mark, and filled the great hollow of 
 the valley with its western radiance, so that it seemed ' 
 to be brimming with mellow light, and to spill it over 
 
SHADOW BROOK . 
 
 77 
 
 the surrounding hill-sides, like golden wine out of a 
 howl. It was such a day that you could not help say- 
 ing of it, 44 There never was such a day before ! ” al- 
 though yesterday was just such a day, and to-morrow 
 will be just such another. Ah, but there are very few 
 of them in a twelvemonth’s circle ! It is a remark- 
 able peculiarity of these October days, that each of 
 them seems to occupy a great deal of space, although 
 the sun rises rather tardily at that season of the year, 
 and goes to bed, as little children ought, at sober six 
 o’clock, or even earlier. We cannot, therefore, call 
 the days long ; but they appear, somehow or other, to 
 make up for their shortness by their breadth ; and 
 when the cool night comes, we are conscious of having 
 enjoyed a big armful of life, since morning. 
 
 44 Come, children, come ! ” cried Eustace Bright. 
 44 More nuts, more nuts, more nuts ! Fill all your bas- 
 kets ; and, at Christmas time, I will crack them for 
 you, and tell you beautiful stories ! ” 
 
 So away they went ; all of them in excellent spirits, 
 except little Dandelion, who, I am sorry to tell you, 
 had been sitting on a chestnut-bur, and was stuck as 
 full as a pincushion of its prickles. Dear me, how un- 
 comfortably he must have felt I 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 * 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY TO “ THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN.” 
 
 The golden days of October passed away, as so 
 many other Octobers have, and brown November like- 
 wise, and the greater part of chill December, too. At 
 last came merry Christmas, and Eustace Bright along 
 with it, making it all the merrier by his presence. 
 And, the day after his arrival from college, there came 
 a mighty snow-storm. Up to this time, the winter 
 had held back, and had given us a good many mild 
 days, which were like smiles upon its wrinkled visage. 
 The grass had kept itself green, in sheltered places, 
 such as the nooks of southern hill-slopes, and along 
 the lee of the stone fences. It was but a week or two 
 ago, and since the beginning of the month, that the 
 children had found a dandelion in bloom, on the mar- 
 gin of Shadow Brook, where it glides out of the dell. 
 
 But no more green grass and dandelions now. This 
 was such a snow-storm ! Twenty miles of it might 
 have been visible at once, between the windows of 
 Tanglewood and the dome of Taconic, had it been 
 possible to see so far among the eddying drifts that 
 whitened all the atmosphere. It seemed as if the 
 hills were giants, and were flinging monstrous hand- 
 fuls of snow at one another, in their enormous sport 
 
TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM . 
 
 79 
 
 So thick were the fluttering snow-flakes, that even the 
 trees, midway down the valley, were hidden by them 
 the greater part of the time. Sometimes, it is true, 
 the little prisoners of Tanglewood could discern a dim 
 outline of Monument Mountain, and the smooth white- 
 ness of the frozen lake at its base, and the black or 
 gray tracts of woodland in the nearer landscape. But 
 these were merely peeps through the tempest. 
 
 Nevertheless, the children rejoiced greatly in the 
 snow-storm. They had already made acquaintance 
 with it, by tumbling heels over head into its highest 
 drifts, and flinging snow at one another, as we have 
 just fancied the Berkshire mountains to be doing. 
 And now they had come back to their spacious play- 
 room, which was as big as the great drawing-room, 
 and was lumbered with all sorts of playthings, large 
 and small. The biggest was a rocking-horse, that 
 looked like a real pony ; and there was a whole fam- 
 ily of wooden, waxen, plaster, and china dolls, besides 
 rag-babies ; and blocks enough to build Bunker Hill 
 Monument, and nine-pins, and balls, and humming 
 tops, and battledores, and grace-sticks, and skipping- 
 ropes, and more of such valuable property than I 
 could tell of in a printed page. But the children 
 liked the snow-storm better than them all. It sug- 
 gested so many brisk enjoyments for to-morrow, and 
 all the remainder of the winter. The sleigh-ride ; the 
 slides down hill into the valley ; the snow-images that 
 were to be shaped out ; the snow-fortresses that were 
 to be built ; and the snowballing to be carried on ! 
 
 So the little folks blessed the snow-storm, and were 
 glad to see it come thicker and thicker, and watched 
 hopefully the long drift that was piling itself up in 
 the avenue, and was already higher than any of their 
 beads. 
 
80 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. 
 
 “Why, we shall be blocked up till spring !” cried 
 they, with the hugest delight. “ What a pity that the 
 house is too high to be quite covered up ! The little 
 red house, down yonder, will be buried up to its 
 eaves.” 
 
 “ You silly children, what do you want of more 
 snow ? ” asked Eustace, who, tired of some novel that 
 he was skimming through, had strolled into the play- 
 room. u It has done mischief enough already, by 
 spoiling the only skating that I could hope for through 
 the winter. We shall see nothing more of the lake 
 till April ; and this was to have been my first day 
 upon it ! Don’t you pity me, Primrose ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, to be sure ! ” answered Primrose, laughing. 
 “ But, for your comfort, we will listen to another of 
 your old stories, such as you told us under the porch, 
 and down in the hollow, by Shadow Brook. Perhaps 
 I shall like them better now, when there is nothing to 
 do, than while there were nuts to be gathered, and 
 beautiful weather to enjoy.” 
 
 Hereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, and as 
 many others of the little fraternity and cousinhood 
 as were still at Tanglewood, gathered about Eustace, 
 and earnestly besought him for a story. The student 
 yawned, stretched himself, and then, to the vast ad- 
 miration of the small people, skipped three times back 
 and forth over the top of a chair, in order, as he ex- 
 plained to them, to set his wits in motion. 
 
 “ Well, well, children,” said he, after these prelimi- 
 naries, “ since you insist, and Primrose has set her 
 heart upon it, I will see what can be done for you. 
 And, that you may know what happy days there were 
 before snow-storms came into fashion, I will tell you a 
 story of the oldest of all old times, when the world 
 
TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM, 
 
 81 
 
 was as new as Sweet Fern’s bran-new humming-top. 
 There was then but one season in the year, and that 
 was the delightful summer ; and but one age for mor- 
 tals, and that was childhood.” 
 
 “ I never heard of that before,” said Primrose. 
 
 “ Of course, you never did,” answered Eustace. 
 “ It shall be a story of what nobody but myself ever 
 dreamed of, — a Paradise of children, — and how, by 
 the naughtiness of just such a little imp as Primrose 
 here, it all came to nothing.” 
 
 So Eustace Bright sat down in the chair which he 
 had just been skipping over, took Cowslip upon his 
 knee, ordered silence throughout the auditory, and be- 
 gan a story about a sad naughty child, whose name 
 was Pandora, and about her playfellow Epimetheus. 
 You may read it, word for word, in the pages that 
 come next. 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 Long, long ago, when this old world was in its 
 tender infancy, there was a child, named Epimetheus, 
 who never had either father or mother ; and, that he 
 might not be lonely, another child, fatherless and 
 motherless like himself, was sent from a far country, 
 to live with him, and be his playfellow and helpmate. 
 Her name was Pandora. 
 
 The first thing that Pandora saw, when she entered 
 the cottage where Epimetheus dwelt, was a great box. 
 And almost the first question which she put to him, 
 after crossing the threshold, was this, — 
 
 44 Epimetheus, what have you in that box ? ” 
 
 44 My dear little Pandora,” answered Epimetheus, 
 44 that is a secret, and you must be kind enough not to 
 ask any questions about it. The box was left here to 
 be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it con- 
 tains.” 
 
 44 But who gave it to you ? ” asked Pandora. 44 And 
 where did it come from ? ” 
 
 44 That is a secret, too,” replied Epimetheus. 
 
 44 How provoking ! ” exclaimed Pandora, pouting 
 her lip. 44 1 wish the great ugly box were out of the 
 way ! ” 
 
 44 Oh come, don’t think of it any more,” cried Epime- 
 theus. 44 Let us run out of doors, and have some nice 
 play witli the other children.” 
 
 It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pan- 
 dora were alive ; and the world, nowadays, is a very 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 83 
 
 different sort of thing from what it was in their time. 
 Then, everybody was a child. There needed no 
 fathers and mothers to take care of the children ; be- 
 cause there was no danger, nor trouble of any kind, 
 and no clothes to be mended, and there was always 
 plenty to eat and drink. Whenever a child wanted 
 his dinner, he found it growing on a tree ; and, if he 
 looked at the tree in the morning, he could see the ex- 
 panding blossom of that night’s supper ; or, at even- 
 tide, he saw the tender bud of to-morrow’s breakfast. 
 It was a very pleasant life indeed. No labor to be 
 done, no tasks to be studied ; nothing but sports and 
 dances, and sweet voices of children talking, or carol- 
 ling like birds, or gushing out in merry laughter, 
 throughout the livelong day. 
 
 What was most wonderful of all, the children never 
 quarrelled among themselves ; neither had they any 
 crying fits ; nor, since time first began, had a single 
 one of these little mortals ever gone apart into a cor 
 ner, and sulked. Oh, what a good time was that to be 
 alive in ? The truth is, those ugly little winged mon- 
 sters, called Troubles, which are now almost as nu- 
 merous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the 
 earth. It is probable that the very greatest dis- 
 quietude which a child had ever experienced was Pan- 
 dora’s vexation at not being able to discover the secret 
 of the mysterious box. 
 
 This was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble ; 
 but, every day, it grew more and more substantial, 
 until, before a great while, the cottage of Epimetheus 
 and Pandora was less sunshiny than those of the other 
 children. 
 
 “ Whence can the box have come ? ” Pandora con- 
 tinually kept saying to herself and to Epimetheus, 
 w And what in the world can be inside of it ? ” 
 
84 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 “ Always talking about this box ! ” said Epimetheus, 
 at last ; for he had grown extremely tired of the sub- 
 ject. “ I wish, dear Pandora, you would try to talk 
 of something else. Come, let us go and gather some 
 ripe figs, and eat them under the trees, for our supper. 
 And I know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest 
 grapes you ever tasted.” 
 
 44 Always talking about grapes and figs ! ” cried 
 Pandora, pettishly. 
 
 44 Well, then,” said Epimetheus, who was a very 
 good-tempered child, like a multitude of children in 
 those days, 44 let us run out and have a merry time 
 with our playmates.” 
 
 44 1 am tired of merry times, and don’t care if I 
 never have any more ! ” answered our pettish little 
 Pandora. 44 And, besides, I never do have any. This 
 ugly box ! I am so taken up with thinking about it 
 all the time. I insist upon your telling me what is 
 inside of it.” 
 
 44 As I have already said, fifty times over, I do not 
 know ! ” replied Epimetheus, getting a little vexed. 
 44 How, then, can I tell you what is inside ? ” 
 
 44 You might open it,” said Pandora, looking side- 
 ways at Epimetheus, 44 and then we could see for our- 
 selves.” 
 
 44 Pandora, what are you thinking of ? ” exclaimed 
 Epimetheus. 
 
 And his face expressed so much horror at the idea 
 af looking into a box, which had been confided to him 
 an the condition of his never opening it, that Pandora 
 thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still, how- 
 ever, she could not help thinking and talking about 
 the box. 
 
 44 At least,” said she, 44 you can tell me how it came 
 here.” 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 85 
 
 “ It was left at the door,” replied Epimetheus, 
 “ just before you came, by a person who looked very 
 smiling and intelligent, and who could hardly forbear 
 laughing as he put it down. He was dressed in an 
 odd kind of a cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to 
 be made partly of feathers, so that it looked almost as 
 if it had wings.” 
 
 “ What sort of a staff had he ? ” asked Pandora. 
 
 “Oh, the most curious staff you ever saw ! ” cried 
 Epimetheus. “ It was like two serpents twisting 
 around a stick, and was carved so naturally that I, at 
 Jrst, thought the serpents were alive.” 
 
 “ I know him,” said Pandora, thoughtfully. “ No- 
 body else has such a staff. It was Quicksilver ; and 
 he brought me hither, as well as the box. No doubt 
 he intended it for me ; and, most probably, it contains 
 pretty dresses for me to wear, or toys for you and me 
 to play with, or something very nice for us both to 
 eat ! ” 
 
 “ Perhaps so,” answered Epimetheus, turning away. 
 “ But until Quicksilver comes back and tells us so, we 
 have neither of us any right to lift the lid of the box.” 
 
 “ What a dull boy he is ! ” muttered Pandora, as 
 Epimetheus left the cottage. “ I do wish he had a 
 little more enterprise ! ” 
 
 * For the first time since her arrival, Epimetheus had 
 gone out without asking Pandora to accompany him. 
 He went to gather figs and grapes by himself, or to 
 seek whatever amusement he could find, in other soci- 
 ety than his little playfellow’s. He was tired to death 
 of hearing about the box, and heartily wished that 
 Quicksilver, or whatever was the messenger’s name, 
 had left it at some other child’s door, where Pandora 
 would never have set eyes on it. So perseveringly as 
 
86 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 she did babble about this one thing ! The box, the 
 box, and nothing but the box ! It seemed as if the 
 box were bewitched, and as if the cottage were not 
 big enough to hold it, without Pandora’s continually 
 stumbling over it, and making Epimetheus stumble 
 over it likewise, and bruising all four of their shins. 
 
 Well, it was really hard that poor Epimetheus 
 should have a box in his ears from morning till night ; 
 especially as the little people of the earth were so un- 
 accustomed to vexations, in those happy days, that 
 they knew not how to deal with them. Thus, a small 
 vexation made as much disturbance then, as a far big- 
 ger one would in our own times. 
 
 After Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood gazing 
 at the box. She had called it ugly, above a hundred 
 times ; but, in spite of all that she had said against it, 
 it was positively a very handsome article of furniture, 
 and would have been quite an ornament to any room 
 in which it should be placed. It was made of a beau- 
 tiful kind of wood, with dark and rich veins spreading 
 over its surface, which was so highly polished that lit- 
 tle Pandora could see her face in it. As the child had 
 no other looking-glass, it is odd that she did not value 
 the box, merely on this account. 
 
 The edges and corners of the box were carved with 
 most wonderful skill. Around the margin there were 
 figures of graceful men and women, and the prettiest 
 children ever seen, reclining or sporting amid a pro- 
 fusion of flowers and foliage;' and these various ob- 
 jects were so exquisitely represented, and were wrought 
 together in such harmony, that flowers, foliage, and 
 human beings seemed to combine into a wreath of 
 mingled beauty. But here and there, peeping forth 
 from behind the carved foliage, Pandora once or twice 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 87 
 
 fancied that she saw a face not so lovely, or something 
 or other that was disagreeable, and which stole the 
 beauty out of all the rest. Nevertheless, on looking 
 more closely, and touching the spot with her finger, 
 she could discover nothing of the kind. Some face, 
 that was really beautiful, bad been made to look ugly 
 by her catching a sideway glimpse at it. 
 
 The most beautiful face of all was done in what is 
 called high relief, in the centre of the lid. There was 
 nothing else, save the dark, smooth richness of the 
 polished wood, and this one face in the centre, with a 
 garland of flowers about its brow. Pandora had 
 looked at this face a great many times, and imagined 
 that the mouth could smile if it liked, or be grave 
 when it chose, the same as any living mouth. The 
 features, indeed, all wore a very lively and rather 
 mischievous expression, which looked almost as if it 
 needs must burst out of the carved lips, and utter it- 
 self in words. 
 
 Had the mouth spoken, it would probably have been 
 something like this : 
 
 “ Do not be afraid, Pandora ! What harm can 
 there be in opening the box ? Never mind that poor, 
 simple Epimetheus ! You are wiser than he, and have 
 ten times as much spirit. Open the box, and see if 
 you do not find something very pretty ! ” 
 
 The box, I had almost forgotten to say, was fas- 
 tened ; not by a lock, nor by any other such contri- 
 vance, but by a very intricate knot of gold cord, 
 There appeared to be no end to this knot, and no be- 
 ginning. Never was a knot so cunningly twisted, nor 
 with so many ins and outs, which roguishly defied the 
 skilfullest fingers to disentangle them. And yet, by 
 the very difficulty that there was in it, Pandora was 
 
88 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 the more tempted to examine the knot, and just se© 
 how it was made. Two or three times, already, she 
 had stooped over the box, and taken the knot between 
 her thumb and forefinger, but without positively try- 
 ing to undo it. 
 
 “I really believe,” said she to herself, “ that I begin 
 to see how it was done. Nay, perhaps I could tie it 
 up again, after undoing it. There would be no harm 
 in that, surely. Even Epimetheus would not blame 
 me for that. I need not open the box, and should 
 not, of course, without the foolish boy’s consent, even 
 if the knot were untied.” 
 
 It might have been better for Pandora if she had 
 had a little work to do, or anything to employ her 
 mind upon, so as not to be so constantly thinking of 
 this one subject. But children led so easy a life, be- 
 fore any Troubles came into the world, that they had 
 really a great deal too much leisure. They could not 
 be forever playing at hide-and-seek among the flower- 
 shrubs, or at blind-man’s-buff with garlands over their 
 eyes, or at whatever other games had been found out, 
 while Mother Earth was in her babyhood. When life 
 is all sport, toil is the real play. There was absolutely 
 nothing to do. A little sweeping and dusting about 
 the cottage, I suppose, and the gathering of fresh 
 flowers (which were only too abundant everywhere), 
 and arranging them in vases, — and poor little Pan- 
 dora’s day’s work was over. And then, for the rest of 
 the day, there was the box! 
 
 After all, I am not quite sure that the box was not 
 a blessing to her in its way. It supplied her with such 
 a variety of ideas to think of, and to talk about, when- 
 ever she had anybody to listen ! When she was in 
 good-humor, she could admire the bright polish of its 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 89 
 
 sides, and the rich border of beautiful faces and foli- 
 age that ran all around it. Or, if she chanced to be 
 ill-tempered, she could give it a push, or kick it with 
 her naughty little foot. And many a kick did the box 
 — (but it was a mischievous box, as we shall see, and 
 deserved all it got) — many a kick did it receive. 
 But, certain it is, if it had not been for the box, our 
 active-minded little Pandora would not have known 
 half so well how to spend her time as she now did. 
 
 For it was really an endless employment to guess 
 what was inside. What could it be, indeed? Just 
 imagine, my little hearers, how busy your wits would 
 be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as 
 you might have reason to suppose, contained some- 
 thing new and pretty for your Christmas or New- 
 Year’s gifts. Do you think that you should be less 
 curious than Pandora ? If you were left alone with 
 the box, might you not feel a little tempted to lift the 
 lid? But you would not do it. Oh, fie! No, no! 
 Only, if you thought there were toys in it, it would be 
 so very hard to let slip an opportunity of taking just 
 one peep ! I know not whether Pandora expected any 
 toys ; for none had yet begun to be made, probably, in 
 those days, when the world itself was one great play- 
 thing for the children that dwelt upon it. But Pan- 
 dora was convinced that there was something very 
 beautiful and valuable in the box ; and therefore she 
 felt just as anxious to take a peep as any of these 
 little girls, here around me, would have felt. And, 
 possibly, a little more so ; but of that I am not quite 
 so certain. 
 
 I On this particular day, however, which we have so 
 long been talking about, her curiosity grew so much 
 greater than it usually was, that, at last, she ap- 
 
90 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 proached the box. She was more than half deter- 
 mined to open it, if she could. Ah, naughty Pan- 
 dora ! 
 
 First, however, she tried to lift it. It was heavy ; 
 quite too heavy for the slender strength of a child, 
 like Pandora. She raised one end of the box a few 
 inches from the floor, and let it fall again, with a 
 pretty loud thump. A moment afterwards, she al- 
 most fancied that she heard something stir inside of 
 the box. She applied her ear as closely as possible, 
 and listened. Positively, there did seem to be a kind 
 of stifled murmur, within ! Or was it merely the 
 singing in Pandora’s ears ? Or could it be the beat- 
 ing of her heart ? The child could not quite satisfy 
 herself whether she had heard anything or no. But, 
 at all events, her curiosity was stronger than ever. 
 
 As she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon the 
 knot of gold cord. 
 
 “ It must have been a very ingenious person who 
 tied this knot,” said Pandora to herself. “But I think 
 I could untie it nevertheless. I am resolved, at least, 
 to find the two ends of the cord.” 
 
 So she took he golden knot in her fingers, and 
 pried into its intricacies as sharply as she could. Al- 
 most without intending it, or quite knowing what she 
 was about, she was soon busily engaged in attempting 
 to undo it. Meanwhile, the bright sunshine came 
 through the open window ; as did likewise the merry 
 voices of the children, playing at a distance, and per- 
 haps the voice of Epimetheus among them. Pandora 
 stopped to listen. N What a beautiful day it was ! 
 W ould it not be wiser, if she were to let the trouble- 
 some knot alone, and think no more about the box, 
 but run and join her little playfellows, and be happy? 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 91 
 
 All this time, however, her fingers were half un- 
 consciously busy with the knot; and happening to 
 glance at the flower-wreathed face on the lid of the 
 enchanted box, she seemed to perceive it slyly grin- 
 ning at her. 
 
 44 That face looks very mischievous,” thought Pan- 
 dora. 44 I wonder whether it smiles because I am do- 
 ing wrong ! I have the greatest mind in the world to 
 run away ! ” 
 
 But just then, by the merest accident, she gave the 
 knot a kind of a twist, which produced a wonderful 
 result. The gold cord untwined itself, as if by magic, 
 and left the box without a fastening. 
 
 44 This is the strangest thing I ever knew ! ” said 
 Pandora. 44 What will Epimetheus say ? And how 
 can I possibly tie it up again ? ” 
 
 She made one or two attempts to restore the knot, 
 but soon found it quite beyond her skill. It had dis- 
 entangled itself so suddenly that she could not in the 
 least remember how the strings had been doubled into 
 one another ; and when she tried to recollect the shape 
 and appearance of the knot, it seemed to have gone 
 entirely out of her mind. Nothing was to be done, 
 therefore, but to let the box remain as it was until 
 Epimetheus should come in. 
 
 44 But,” said Pandora, 44 when he finds the knot un- 
 tied, he will know that I have done it. How shall I 
 make him believe that I have not looked into the 
 box?” 
 
 And then the thought came into her naughty little 
 heart, that, since she would be suspected of having 
 looked into the box, she might just as well do so at 
 once. Oh, very naughty and very foolish Pandora ! 
 You should have thought only of doing what was 
 
92 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 right, and of leaving undone what was wrong, and not 
 of what your playfellow Epimetheus would have said or 
 believed. And so perhaps she might, if the enchanted 
 face on the lid of the box had not looked so bewitch- 
 ingly persuasive at her, and if she had not seemed 
 to hear, more distinctly, than before, the murmur of 
 small voices within. She could not tell whether it 
 was fancy or no ; but there was quite a little tumult 
 of whispers in her ear, — or else it was her curiosity 
 that whispered, — 
 
 “ Let us out, dear Pandora, — pray let us out ! 
 We will be such nice pretty playfellows for you! 
 Only let us out ! ” 
 
 46 What can it be ? ” thought Pandora. 46 Is there 
 something alive in the box ? Well ! — yes ! — I am 
 resolved to take just one peep ! Only one peep ; and 
 then the lid shall be shut down as safely as ever! 
 There cannot possibly be any harm in just one little 
 peep ! ” 
 
 But it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus 
 was doing. 
 
 This was the first time, since his little playmate had 
 Come to dwell with him, that he had attempted to en- 
 joy any pleasure in which she did not partake. But 
 nothing went right ; nor was he nearly so happy as on 
 other days. He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe 
 fig (if Epimetheus had a fault, it was a little too much 
 fondness for figs) ; or, if ripe at all, they were over- 
 ripe, and so sweet as to be j clo ying. There was no 
 mirth in his heart, such as usually made his voice 
 gush out, of its own accord, and swell the merriment 
 of his companions. In short, he grew so uneasy and 
 discontented, that the other children could not imag- 
 ine what was the matter with Epimetheus. Neither 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 93 
 
 did he himself know what ailed him, any better than 
 they did. For you must recollect that, at the time we 
 are speaking of, it was everybody’s nature, and con- 
 stant habit, to be happy. The world had not yet 
 learned to be otherwise. Not a single soul or body, 
 since these children were first sent to enjoy them- 
 selves on the beautiful earth, had ever been sick or 
 out of sorts. 
 
 At length, discovering that, somehow or other, he 
 put a stop to all the play, Epimetheus judged it best 
 to go back to Pandora, who was in a humor better 
 suited to his own. But, with a hope of giving her 
 pleasure, he gathered some flowers, and made them 
 into a wreath, which he meant to put upon her head. 
 The flowers were very lovely, — roses, and lilies, and 
 orange-blossoms, and a great many more, which left a 
 trail of fragrance behind, as Epimetheus carried them 
 along ; and the wreath was put together with as much 
 skill as could reasonably be expected of a boy. The 
 fingers of little girls, it has always appeared to me, 
 are the fittest to twine flower- wreaths ; but boys could 
 do it, in those days, rather better than they can now. 
 f And here I must mention that a great black cloud 
 had been gathering in the sky, for some time past, al- 
 though it had not yet overspread the sun. But, just 
 as Epimetheus reached the cottage door, this cloud be- 
 gan to intercept the sunshine, and thus o make a sud- 
 den and sad obscurity. 
 
 He entered softly ; for he meant, if possible, to steal 
 behind Pandora, and fling the wreath of flowers over 
 her head, before she should be aware of his approach, 
 But, as it happened, there was no need of his treading 
 so very lightly. He might have trod as heavily as he 
 pleased, — as heavily as a grown man, — as heavily, 
 
94 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 I was going to say, as an elepliant, — without much 
 probability of Pandora’s hearing his footsteps. She 
 was too intent upon her purpose. At the moment of 
 his entering the cottage, the naughty child had put her 
 hand to the lid, and was on the point of opening the 
 mysterious box. Epimetheus beheld her. If he had 
 cried out, Pandora would probably have withdrawn her 
 hand, and the fatal mystery of the box might never 
 have been known. 
 
 But Epimetheus himself, although he said very little 
 about it, had his own share of curiosity to know what 
 was inside. Perceiving that Pandora was resolved to 
 find out the secret, he determined that his playfellow 
 should not be the only wise person in the cottage. 
 And if there were anything pretty or valuable in the 
 box, he meant to take half of it to himself. Thus, 
 after all his sage speeches to Pandora about restrain- 
 ing her curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be quite 
 as foolish, and nearly as much in fault, as she. So, 
 whenever we blame Pandora for what happened, we 
 must not forget to shake our heads at Epimetheus 
 likewise. 
 
 As Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew very 
 dark and dismal ; for the black cloud had now swept 
 quite over the sun, and seemed to have buried it alive. 
 There had, for a little while past, been a low growling 
 and muttering, which all at once broke into a heavy 
 peal of thunder. But Pandora, heeding nothing of all 
 this, lifted the lid nearly upright, and looked inside. 
 It seemed as if a sudden swarm of winged creatures 
 brushed past her, taking flight out of the box, while, 
 at the same instant, she heard the voice of Epimetheus, 
 with a lamentable tone, as if he were in pain. 
 
 “ Oh, I am stung ! ” cried he. “ I am stung ! 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 95 
 
 Naughty Pandora ! why have you opened this wicked 
 box?” 
 
 Pandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, looked 
 about her, to see what had befallen Epimetheus. The 
 thunder-cloud had so darkened the room that she could 
 not very clearly discern wliat was in it. But she heard 
 a disagreeable buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, 
 or gigantic mosquitoes, or those insects which we call 
 dor-bugs, and pinching-dogs, were darting about. And, 
 as her eyes grew more accustomed to the imperfect 
 light, she saw a crowd of ugly little shapes, with bats’ 
 wings, looking abominably spiteful, and armed with 
 terribly long stings in their tails. It was one of these 
 that had stung Epimetheus. Nor was it a great while 
 before Pandora herself began to scream, in no less 
 pain and affright than her playfellow, and making a 
 vast deal more hubbub about it. An odious little 
 monster had settled on her forehead, and would have 
 stung her I know not how deeply, if Epimetheus had 
 not run and brushed it away. 
 
 Now, if you wish to know what these ugly things 
 might be, which had made their escape out of the box, 
 I must tell you that they were the whole family of 
 earthly Troubles. There were evil Passions ; there 
 were a great many species of Cares ; there were more 
 than a hundred and fifty Sorrows ; there were Dis- 
 eases, in a vast nmnber of miserable and painful 
 shapes ; there were more kinds of Naughtiness than it 
 would be of any use to talk about. In short, every- 
 thing that has since afflicted the souls and bodies of 
 mankind had been shut up in the mysterious box, and 
 given to Epimetheus and Pandora to be kept safely, 
 in order that the happy children of the world might 
 never be molested by them. Had they been faithful 
 
96 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 to their trust, all would have gone well. No grown 
 person would ever have been sad, nor any child have 
 had cause to shed a single tear, from that hour until 
 this moment. 
 
 But — and you may see by this how a wrong act of 
 * any one mortal is a calamity to the whole world — by 
 Pandora’s lifting the lid of that miserable box, and by 
 the fault of Epimetheus, too, in not preventing her, 
 these Troubles have obtained a foothold among us, 
 and do not seem very likely to be driven away in a 
 hurry. For it was impossible, as you will easily guess, 
 that the two children should keep the ugly swarm in 
 their own little cottage. On the contrary, the first 
 thing that they did was to fling open the doors and 
 windows, in hopes of getting rid of them ; and, sure 
 enough, away flew the winged Troubles all abroad, 
 and so pestered and tormented the small people, every- 
 where about, that none of them so much as smiled for 
 many days afterwards. And, what was very singular, 
 all the flowers and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of 
 which had hitherto faded, now began to droop and 
 shed their leaves, after a day or two. The children, 
 moreover, who before seemed immortal in their child- 
 hood, now grew older, day by day, and came soon to 
 be youths and maidens, and men and women by and 
 by, and aged people, before they dreamed of such a 
 thing. 
 
 Meanwhile, the naughty Pandora, and hardly less 
 naughty Epimetheus, remained in their cottage. Both 
 of them had been grievously stung, and were in a good 
 deal of pain, which seemed the more intolerable to 
 them, because it was the very first pain that had ever 
 been felt since the world began. Of course, they were 
 entirely unaccustomed to it, and could have no idea 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 97 
 
 what it meant. Besides all this, they were in exceed- 
 ingly bad humor, both with themselves and with one 
 another. In order to indulge it to the utmost, Epi- 
 metheus sat down sullenly in a corner with his back 
 towards Pandora ; while Pandora flung herself upon 
 the floor and rested her head on the fatal and abom- 
 inable box. She was crying bitterly, and sobbing as 
 if her heart would break. 
 
 Suddenly there was a gentle little tap on the inside 
 of the lid. 
 
 x “ What can that be ? ” cried Pandora, lifting her 
 head. 
 
 But either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or 
 was too much out of humor to notice it. At any rate, 
 he made no answer. 
 
 46 You are very unkind,” said Pandora, sobbing 
 anew, 44 not to speak to me ! ” 
 
 Again the tap ! It sounded like the tiny knuckles 
 of a fairy’s hand, knocking lightly and playfully on 
 the inside of the box. 
 
 44 Who are you ? ” asked Pandora, with a little of 
 her former curiosity. “Who are you, inside of this 
 naughty box ? ” 
 
 A sweet little voice spoke from within, — 
 
 44 Only lift the lid, and you shall see.” 
 
 44 No, no,” answered Pandora, again beginning to 
 sob, 44 1 have had enough of lifting the lid ! You are 
 inside of the box, naughty creature, and there you shall 
 stay ! There are plenty of your ugly brothers and 
 sisters already flying about the world. You need 
 never think that I shall be so foolish as to let you 
 out ! ” 
 
 She looked towards Epimetheus, as she spoke, per- 
 haps expecting that he would commend her for her 
 
98 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 
 
 wisdom. But the sullen boy only muttered that she 
 was wise a little too late. 
 
 “ Ah,” said the sweet little voice again, “ you had 
 much better let me out. I am not like those naughty 
 creatures that have stings in their tails. They are no 
 brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at once, 
 if you were only to get a glimpse of me. Come, come, 
 my pretty Pandora ! I am sure you will let me out ! ” 
 
 And, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery 
 in the tone, that made it almost impossible to refuse 
 anything which this little voice asked. Pandora’s 
 heart had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that 
 came from within the box. Epimetheus, too, though 
 still in the corner, had turned half round, and seemed 
 to be in rather better spirits than before. 
 
 “ My dear Epimetheus,” cried Pandora, “ have you 
 heard this little voice ? ” 
 
 “Yes, to be sure I have,” answered he, but in no 
 very good-humor as yet. “ And what of it ? ” 
 
 “ Shall I lift the lid again ? ” asked Pandora. 
 
 “ Just as you please,” said Epimetheus. “ You have 
 done so much mischief already, that perhaps you may 
 as well do a little more. One other Trouble, in such 
 a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can 
 make no very great difference.” 
 
 “You might speak a little more kindly!” murmured 
 Pandora, wiping her eyes. 
 
 “ Ah, naughty boy ! ” cried the little voice within 
 the box, in an arch and laughing tone. “ He knows 
 he is longing to see me. Come, my dear Pandora, 
 lift up the lid. I am in a great hurry to comfort you. 
 Only let me have some fresh air, and you shall soon 
 see that matters are not quite so dismal as you think 
 them ! ” 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN . 99 
 
 44 Epimetheus,” exclaimed Pandora, 44 come what 
 may, I am resolved to open the box ! ” 
 
 44 And, as the lid seems very heavy,” cried Epime- 
 theus, running across the room, 46 1 will help you ! ” 
 
 So, with one consent, the two children again lifted 
 the lid. Out flew a sunny and smiling little person- 
 age, and hovered about the room, throwing a light 
 wherever she went. Have you never made the sun- 
 shine dance into dark corners, by reflecting it from 
 a bit of looking-glass ? W ell, so looked the winged 
 cheerfulness of this fairy-like stranger, amid the gloom 
 of the cottage. She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the 
 least touch of her finger on the inflamed spot where 
 the Trouble had stung him, and immediately the an- 
 guish of it was gone. Then she kissed Pandora on 
 the forehead, and her hurt was cured likewise. 
 
 After performing these good offices, the bright 
 stranger fluttered sportively over the children’s heads, 
 and looked so sweetly at them, that they both began 
 to think it not so very much amiss to have opened the 
 box, since, otherwise, their cheery guest must have 
 been kept a prisoner among those naughty imps with 
 stings in their tails. 
 
 44 Pray, who are you, beautiful creature ? ” inquired 
 Pandora. 
 
 44 1 am to be called Hope ! ” answered the sunshiny 
 figure. 44 And because I am such a cheery little body, 
 I was packed into the box, to make amends to the hu- 
 man race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was 
 destined to be let loose among them. Never fear ! we 
 shall do pretty well in spite of them all.” 
 
 44 Your wings are colored like the rainbow ! ” ex- 
 claimed Pandora. 44 How very beautiful ! ” 
 
 44 Yes, they are like the rainbow,” said Hope, 44 be- 
 
100 
 
 THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 cause, glad as my nature is, I am partly made of tears 
 as well as smiles.” 
 
 44 And will you stay with us,” asked Epimetheus, 
 46 forever and ever ? ” 
 
 44 As long as you need me,” said Hope, with her 
 pleasant smile, — 44 and that will be as long as you 
 live in the world, — I promise never to desert you. 
 There may come times and season's, now and then, 
 when you will think that I have utterly vanished. 
 But again, and again, and again, when perhaps you 
 least dream of it, you shall see the glimmer of my 
 wings on the ceiling of your cottage. Yes, my dear 
 children, and I know something very good and beauti- 
 ful that is to be given you hereafter ! ” 
 
 44 Oh tell us,” they exclaimed, — 44 tell us what it 
 is!” 
 
 44 Do not ask me,” replied Hope, putting her finger 
 on her rosy mouth. 44 But do not despair, even if it 
 should never happen while you live on this earth. 
 Trust in my promise, for it is true.” 
 
 44 We do trust you!” cried Epimetheus and Pan- 
 dora, both in one breath. 
 
 And so they did ; and not only they, but so has 
 everybody trusted Hope, that has since been alive. 
 And to tell you the truth, I cannot help being glad — 
 (though, to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty 
 thing for her to do) — but I cannot help being glad 
 that our foolish Pandora peeped into the box. No 
 doubt — no doubt — the Troubles are still flying about 
 the world, and have increased in multitude, rather 
 than lessened, and are a very ugly set of imps, and 
 carry most venomous stings in their tails. I have felt 
 them already, and expect to feel them more, as I grow 
 older. But then that lovely and lightsome little figure 
 
THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 
 
 101 
 
 of Hope! What in the world could we do without 
 her? Hope spiritualizes the earth; Hope makes it 
 always new ; and, even in the earth’s best and brightest 
 aspect, Hope shows it to be only the shadow of an in- 
 finite bliss hereafter I 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. 
 
 AFTER THE STORY. 
 
 %c Primrose,” asked Eustace, pinching her ear, 
 •‘how do you like my little Pandora? Don’t you 
 think her the exact picture of yourself? But you 
 would not have hesitated half so long about opening 
 the box.” 
 
 44 Then I should have been well punished for my 
 naughtiness,” retorted Primrose, smartly ; c4 for the 
 first thing to pop out, after the lid was lifted, would 
 have been Mr. Eustace Bright, in the shape of a 
 Trouble.” 
 
 44 Cousin Eustace,” said Sweet Fern, 44 did the box 
 hold all the trouble that has ever come into the 
 world?” 
 
 44 Every mite of it ! ” answered Eustace. 44 This 
 very snow-storm, which has spoiled my skating, was 
 packed up there.” 
 
 44 And how big was the box ? ” asked Sweet Fern. 
 
 44 Why, perhaps three feet long,” said Eustace, 
 44 two feet wide, and two feet and a half high.” 
 
 44 Ah,” said the child, 44 you are making fun of me, 
 Cousin Eustace ! I know there is not trouble enough 
 in the world to fill such a great box as that. As for 
 the ♦snow-storm, it is no trouble at all, but a pleasure ; 
 so it could not have been in the box.” 
 
102 
 
 TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. 
 
 “ Hear the child ! ” cried Primrose, with an air of 
 superiority. “ How little he knows about the troubles 
 of this world ! Poor fellow ! He will be wiser when 
 he has seen as much of life as I have.” 
 
 So saying, she began to skip the rope. 
 
 Meantime, the day was drawing towards its close. 
 Out of doors the scene certainly looked dreary. There 
 was a gray drift, far and wide, through the gathering 
 twilight ; the earth was as pathless as the air ; and the 
 bank of snow over the steps of the porch proved that 
 nobody had entered or gone out for a good many 
 hours past. Had there been only one child at the 
 window of Tanglewood, gazing at this wintry prospect, 
 it would perhaps have made him sad. But half a 
 dozen children together, though they cannot quite 
 turn the world into a paradise, may defy old Winter 
 and all his storms to put them out of spirits. Eustace 
 Bright, moreover, on the spur of the moment, invented 
 several new kinds of play, which kept them all in a 
 roar of merriment till bedtime, and served for the 
 next stormy day besides. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The Gorgon’s Head. 
 
 Page 21. Set them afloat upon the sea. Hawthorne does not 
 say that it was the grandfather of Perseus, Acrisius, king of 
 Argos, who put him and his mother into the chest and set them 
 afloat. It had been foretold that Acrisius should meet his death 
 at the hands of his grandson, and he sought to free himself 
 from the danger. 
 
 A fisherman. Dictys. 
 
 Page 27. My sister. Minerva, the goddess of wisdom. 
 
 Page 28. Three Gray Women. The Grsese, or Phorcydes, 
 daughters of Phorcys and Ceto. They were gray-haired from 
 birth, whence the name Grsese. They were always associated 
 with their sisters the Gorgons, whose guards they were. 
 
 Page 33. Sister Scarecrow , etc. The individual names which 
 Hawthorne gives to the Three Gray Women are free renderings 
 of their Greek names. 
 
 Page 35. Helmet of darkness. This was the special property 
 of Pluto. 
 
 Page 41. On the shore of that island. The Greek poet Hesiod 
 represented the Gorgons as living in the islands of the sea, but 
 the later poets generally gave them a dwelling-place in Libya. 
 
 Page 42. .Medusa was the only one. The other Gorgons were 
 immortal. 
 
 Page 45. A beautiful maiden. Andromeda. 
 
 An enormous giant. Atlas. 
 
 Page 48. They whitened into marble. The island of Seriphus 
 is very rocky, and from this fact some scholars trace the origin 
 of the story that King Polydectes and his people were turned 
 into stone. 
 
 The Golden Touch. 
 
 Page 56. Sweetest roses. Midas is said to have had a garden 
 in which grew roses having sixty petals and the most wonderful 
 fragrance. 
 
104 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 An idle story about his ears. Pan, having aspired to rival 
 Apollo in music, was adjudged vanquished ; but Midas refused 
 to acquiesce in this decision, and Apollo therefore changed his 
 ears to those of an ass, in token of his stupidity. 
 
 Page 60. The Golden Touch . The usual story of the be- 
 stowal of the Golden Touch is as follows: Silenus, a demigod, 
 who was the preceptor and companion of Bacchus, was in the 
 habit of visiting the rose garden of Midas. At one time Midas 
 captured him and detained him for ten days; but at the end of 
 that time restored him to Bacchus, who was so grateful that he 
 desired Midas to ask whatever gift he would; and the foolish 
 king, not realizing what it would mean to him, begged that 
 whatever he touched might be turned to gold. 
 
 Page 74. The sands of the river sparkled like gold. According 
 to the old stories it was the river Pactolus in which Midas washed 
 away the Golden Touch, and its sands thereafter were golden. 
 
 The Paradise of Children 
 
 Page 82. Epimetheus . . . Pandora. With the myth of Epi- 
 metheus and Pandora, Hawthorne has taken even more liberty 
 than is his wont. In classic mythology, Epimetheus was the 
 son of the Titan Iapetus and his wife Clymene, and had three 
 brothers, — Prometheus, Atlas, and Mencetius. Pandora is the 
 Greek Eve, the first-created woman. Jupiter, being incensed at 
 Prometheus, who had succeeded in stealing fire from heaven, 
 determined to bring trouble upon mankind. To this end he 
 caused a woman to be created who was endowed with all gifts 
 and graces (whence the name Pandora, all-gifted), but who had 
 nevertheless an untruthful and crafty disposition. Mercury 
 brought her to Epimetheus, who, in spite of the warnings of 
 Prometheus to accept no gifts from Jupiter, received her and 
 made her his wife. Prometheus signifies forethought, Epime- 
 theus, afterthought. 
 
 A great box. According to some versions of the tale, the box 
 was sent with Pandora, as her dowry. 
 
BOOKS FOR REFERENCE AND FURTHER READING. 
 CLASSICAL DICTIONARIES. 
 
 Harper’s Dictionary of Classical Literature and Antiquities. 
 
 Edited by Harry Thurston Peck. 
 
 Seyffert, Oskar. 
 
 Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, Mythology, Religion, Lit- 
 erature, and Art. Revised and edited, with additions, by 
 Henry Nettleship and J. E. Sandys. 
 
 Smith, William. 
 
 A Classical Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography, Mytho- 
 logy, and Geography. Revised by G. E. Marindin. 
 
 GENERAL WORKS ON MYTHOLOGY. 
 
 Bulfinch, Thomas. 
 
 The Age of Fable. New Edition, edited by Edward Everett 
 Hale. 
 
 Collignon, Maxime. 
 
 Manual of Mythology, in Relation to Greek Art. Translated 
 and enlarged by Jane E. Harrison. Illustrated. 
 
 Guerber, H» A. 
 
 Myths of Greece and Rome, narrated with Special Reference 
 to Literature and Art. Illustrated. 
 
 Murray, Alexander Stuart. 
 
 Manual of Mythology. Illustrated. 
 
 Petiscus, A. H. 
 
 The Gods of Olympos, or Mythology of the Greeks and Ro- 
 mans. Translated and edited by Katherine A. Raleigh. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 Seeman, Justus Otto Eberhard. 
 
 The Mythology of Greece and Rome. Translated from the 
 German. Illustrated. 
 
 Beckwith, M. Helen. 
 
 In Mythland. Illustrated. 
 
 This is a book for very small children ; twelve of the best 
 known myths told in the simplest possible language. 
 
106 
 
 BOOKS FOR REFERENCE . 
 
 POEMS AND STORIES 
 
 EMBODYING OR ILLUSTRATING THE MYTHS WHICH HAWTHORNE 
 HAS USED. 
 
 Classical Sources. — The stories of the Wonder-Book and 
 Tanglewood Tales originated among the Greeks. Most of them 
 may be found in the Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer, or in the 
 Theogony and the Works and Days of Hesiod ; several are given 
 by both these poets. The same legends appear in varying forms 
 in later Greek authors, and the Latin writers have made free 
 use of them. They have, indeed, become the common property 
 of all literature, and are, as Hawthorne says, “ marvellously 
 independent of all temporary modes and circumstances.” 
 
 The Gorgon’s Head. 
 
 Kingsley, Charles. 
 
 Perseus. (In The Heroes .) 
 
 Morris, William. 
 
 The Doom of King Acrisius. (In The Earthly Paradise.') 
 Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. 
 
 Aspecta Medusa. (In Poems.) 
 
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe. 
 
 On the Medusa of Leonardo da Vinci. (In Poems.) 
 
 Dowden, Edward. 
 
 Andromeda. (In Poems.) 
 
 Bryant, William Cullen. 
 
 Version of a Fragment of Simonides. [Danae’s Lament over 
 her Child.] (In Poems.) 
 
 The Paradise of Children. 
 
 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. 
 
 The Masque of Pandora. 
 
 Fields, Annie. 
 
 Pandora : A Festival Play. (In Under the Olive.) 
 
 Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. 
 
 Pandora. (Sonnet.)