Then Aurora went to the king of the G.o.ds and begged that he would make t.i.thonus immortal.
"Sometimes people are not pleased even when I have given them what they ask," replied the king, "so think well before you speak."
"I have only one wish," said Aurora, "and it is that t.i.thonus, the fairest of youths, shall be immortal."
"You have your wish," said the king of the G.o.ds, and again t.i.thonus and Aurora roamed happily together through forest and field.
One day t.i.thonus asked, "My Aurora, why is it that I cannot look straight into your eyes as once I did?" Another day he said, "My Aurora, why is it that I cannot put my hand in yours as once I did?"
Then the G.o.ddess wept sorrowfully. "The king of the G.o.ds gave me what I asked for," she wailed, "and I begged that you should be immortal. I did not remember to ask that you should be always young."
Everyday t.i.thonus grew older and smaller. "I am no longer happy in your father"s home," he said, "with your brothers who are as beautiful and as strong as I was when I first saw you. Let me go back to my own country.
Let me be a bird or an insect and live in the fields where we first roamed together. Let me go, dearest G.o.ddess."
"You shall do as you will," replied Aurora sadly. "You shall be a gra.s.shopper, and whenever I hear the gra.s.shopper"s clear, merry song, I shall remember the happy days when we were together."
THE STORY OF THE ORIOLE.
The king of the north once said to himself, "I am master of the country of ice and snow, but what is that if I cannot be ruler of the land of sunshine and flowers? I am no king if I fear the king of the south. The northwind shall bear my icy breath. Bird and beast shall quiver and tremble with cold. I myself will call in the voice of the thunder, and this ruler of the south, his king of summer, shall yield to my power."
The land of the south was ever bright and sunny, but all at once the sky grew dark, and the sun hid himself in fear. Black storm-clouds came from the north. An icy wind blew over the mountains. It wrestled with the trees of the southland, and even the oaks could not stand against its power. Their roots were tough and strong, but they had to yield, and the fallen trees lay on the earth and wailed in sorrow as the cruel storm-wind and rain beat upon them. The thunder growled in the hollows of the mountains, and in the fearful gloom came the white fire of the forked lightning, flaring through the clouds.
"We shall perish," cried the animals of the sunny south. "The arrows of the lightning are aimed at us. O dear ruler of the southland, must we yield to the cruel master of the north?"
"My king," said a little buzzing voice, "may I go out and fight the wicked master of the storm-wind?"
The thunder was still for a moment, and a mocking laugh was heard from among the clouds, for it was a little hornet that had asked to go out and meet the power of the ruler of the north.
"Dear king, may I go?" repeated the hornet.
"Yes, you may go," said the king of the south, and the little insect went out alone, and bravely stung the master of the storm-wind.
The king of the north struck at him with a war-club, but the hornet only flew above his head and stung him again. The hornet was too small to be struck by the arrows of the lightning. He stung again and again, and at last the king of the north went back to his own country, and drove before him the thunder and lightning and rain and the black storm-clouds and the icy wind.
"Brave little hornet," said the king of the south, "tell me what I can do for you. You shall have whatever you ask."
Then said the little hornet, "My king, on all the earth no one loves me.
I do not wish to harm people, but they fear my sting, and they will not let me live beside their homes. Will you make men love me?"
"Little hornet," said the king gently, "you shall no longer be a stinging insect feared by men. You shall be a bright and happy oriole, and when men see you, they will say, "See the beautiful oriole. I shall be glad if he will build his nest on our trees.""
So the hornet is now an oriole, a bird that is loved by every one. His nest looks like that of a hornet because he learned how to build his home before he became an oriole.
WHY THE PEAc.o.c.k"S TAIL HAS A HUNDRED EYES.
Juno, queen of the G.o.ds, had the fairest cow that any one ever saw. She was creamy white, and her eyes were of as soft and bright a blue as those of any maiden in the world. Juno and the king of the G.o.ds often played tricks on each other, and Juno knew well that the king would try to get her cow. There was a watchman named Argus, and one would think that he could see all that was going on in the world, for he had a hundred eyes, and no one had ever seen them all asleep at once, so Queen Juno gave to Argus the work of watching the white cow.
The king of the G.o.ds knew what she had done, and he laughed to himself and said, "I will play a trick on Juno, and I will have the white cow."
He sent for Mercury and whispered in his ear, "Mercury, go to the green field where Argus watches the cream-white cow and get her for me."
Mercury was always happy when he could play a trick on any one, and he set out gladly for the field where Argus watched the cream-white cow with every one of his hundred eyes.
Now Mercury could tell merry stories of all that was done in the world.
He could sing, too, and the music of his voice had lulled many a G.o.d to sleep. Argus knew that, but he had been alone a long time, and he thought, "What harm is there in listening to his merry chatter? I have a hundred eyes, and even if half of them were asleep, the others could easily keep watch of one cow." So he gladly hailed Mercury and said, "I have been alone in this field a long, long time, but you have roamed about as you would. Will you not sing to me, and tell me what has happened in the world? You would be glad to hear stories and music if you had nothing to do but watch a cow, even if it was the cow of a queen."
So Mercury sang and told stories. Some of the songs were merry, and some were sad. The watchman closed one eye, then another and another, but there were two eyes that would not close for all the sad songs and all the merry ones. Then Mercury drew forth a hollow reed that he had brought from the river and began to play on it. It was a magic reed, and as he played, one could hear the water rippling gently on the sh.o.r.e and the breath of the wind in the pine-trees; one could see the lilies bending their heads as the dusk came on, and the stars twinkling softly in the summer sky.
It is no wonder that Argus closed one eye and then the other. Every one of his hundred eyes was fast asleep, and Mercury went away to the king of the G.o.ds with the cream-white cow.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Juno had so often played tricks on the king that he was happy because he had played this one on her, but Juno was angry, and she said to Argus, "You are a strange watchman. You have a hundred eyes, and you could not keep even one of them from falling asleep. My peac.o.c.k is wiser than you, for he knows when any one is looking at him. I will put every one of your eyes in the tail of the peac.o.c.k." And to-day, whoever looks at the peac.o.c.k can count in his tail the hundred eyes that once belonged to Argus.
THE STORY OF THE BEES AND THE FLIES.
There were once two tribes of little people who lived near together.
They were not at all alike, for one of the tribes looked for food and carried it away to put it up safely for winter, while the other played and sang and danced all day long.
"Come and play with us," said the lazy people, but the busy workers answered, "No, come and work with us. Winter will soon be here. Snow and ice will be everywhere, and if we do not put up food now we shall have none for the cold, stormy days."
So the busy people brought honey from the flowers, but the lazy people kept on playing. They laughed together and whispered to one another, "See those busy workers! They will have food for two tribes, and they will give us some. Let us go and dance."
While the summer lasted, one tribe worked and the other played. When winter came, the busy workers were sorry for their friends and said, "Let us give them some of our honey." So the people who played had as much food as if they, too, had brought honey from the flowers.
Another summer was coming, and the workers said, "If we should make our home near the lilies that give us honey, it would be easier to get our food." So the workers flew away, but the lazy people played and danced as they had done before while their friends were near, for they thought, "Oh, they will come back and bring us some honey."
By and by the cold came, but the lazy people had nothing to eat, and the workers did not come with food. The manito had said to them, "Dear little workers, you shall no longer walk from flower to flower. I will give you wings, and you shall be bees. Whenever men hear a gentle humming, they will say, "Those are the busy bees, and their wings were given them because they were wise and good.""
[Ill.u.s.tration]
To the other tribe the manito said, "You shall be flies, and you, too, shall have wings; but while the workers fly from flower to flower and eat the yellow honey, you shall have for your food only what has been thrown away. When men hear your buzzing, they will say, "It is good that the flies have wings, because we can drive them away from us the more quickly.""
THE STORY OF THE FIRST MOLES.