II
THE STRANGER'S STORY
"Long, long ago, when the earth was young and the Gods mingled morefreely with men than they do to-day, there lived in Hellas a beautifulyouth named Epimetheus. I am not quite sure that he was the very firstman that ever lived, but at any rate he was one of the first, and he wasvery lonely. The world was then more beautiful than I can say. The sunshone every day in the year, flowers bloomed everywhere, and the earthbrought forth abundantly all that he needed for food, but stillEpimetheus was not happy. The Gods saw how lonely he was and they feltsorry for him.
"'Let us give him a companion,' said Zeus, the father of all the Gods.'Even sun-crowned Olympus would be a desolate place to me if I had tolive all alone.' So the Gods all fell to hunting for just the rightcompanion to send to poor lonely Epimetheus, and soon they found a lovelymaiden whose name was Pandora. 'She's just the right one,' saidAphrodite, the Goddess of Love. 'See how beautiful she is.' 'Yes,'said Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, 'but she will need more than beautyor Epimetheus will tire of her. One cannot love an empty head forever,even if it is a beautiful one. I will give her learning and wisdom.'
"'I will give her a sweet voice for singing,' said Apollo. In this wayeach one of the Gods gave to Pandora some wonderful gift, and when thetime came for her departure from Olympus, where the Gods dwell, thesegifts were packed away in a marriage-chest of curious workmanship,and were taken with her to the home of Epimetheus.
"You can imagine how glad Epimetheus was to receive a bride so noblyendowed, and for a time everything went very happily upon the earth. Atlast, one sad day, a dreadful thing happened.
"Pandora had been told by the Gods that she must not open the box, lestshe lose all the blessings it contained.
"But she was curious. She wished to see with her own eyes what was in it,and one day, when Epimetheus was away from home, she lifted the corner ofthe lid! Out flew the gifts of the Gods! She tried her best to close thelid again, but before she could do so, the blessings had flown away in abright cloud.
"Poor Pandora! She sat down beside the box and wept the very first tearsthat were ever shed in this world. While she was weeping and blamingherself for her disobedience and the trouble it had caused, she heard alittle voice, way down in the bottom of the box.
"'Don't cry, dear Pandora!' the little voice said. 'You can never bequite unhappy when I am here, and I am always going to stay with you; Iam Hope.' So Pandora dried her tears, and no matter how full of sorrowthe world has been since, there has never been a time when Hope was gone.If that time should ever come, the world would be a desolate placeindeed."
When he had finished the story, no one said anything at all for a minute,and then Daphne looked up at the Stranger.
"Is that really the way all the troubles began?" she asked. "Because ifit isn't, I think it's mean to blame everything on poor Pandora."
"Why, Daphne!" said her Mother in a shocked voice; but the Stranger onlysmiled.
"I should not be surprised if Epimetheus were to blame for a few thingshimself," he said, stroking his beard. "Anyway, I'm sure he felt he wouldrather have Pandora and all the troubles in the world than to livewithout her, and men have felt the same way ever since."
"Well, then," began Daphne, her eyes shining like two blue sparks, "whydon't--?"
"Daphne! Daphne!" cried Lydia warningly. "You are talking too much for alittle girl."
The Stranger nodded kindly to Lydia. "Let her speak," he said. Daphnespoke.
"Didn't Athena say Epimetheus would get tired of Pandora if she had anempty head?"
"Yes," admitted the Stranger, "the story certainly runs that way."
"And have men felt like that ever since too?" Daphne asked.
"Yes, I think so," answered the Stranger. "Certainly women need wisdomnow as much as Pandora did."
"Then why don't they let us learn things the same as boys," gaspedDaphne, a little frightened at her own boldness. "Dion's always tellingme I can't do things or go to places because I am a girl. I want to knowthings if I _am_ a girl. I can't try for the Olympian games and I can'teven go to see them just because I am a girl." She stopped quiteovercome.
Melas and Lydia and Dion were all too astonished to speak. Only theStranger did not seem shocked. He drew Daphne up beside him.
"My dear," he said, "a child can ask questions which even a philosophercannot answer. I do not know myself why the world feels as it does, butit certainly has always seemed to be afraid to let women know too much.It has always seemed to prefer they should have beauty rather thanbrains."
"Yes, but," urged Daphne, "I don't see why I can't try for the games too,when I am big enough. I can run just as fast as Dion and do everything hecan do."
Melas smiled. "Daphne is true to her Spartan blood," he said. "The girlsused to compete in the games at Sparta."
The Philosopher stroked Daphne's hair. "So your name is Daphne," he said,smiling, "And you can run fast and you have golden hair! Did you know itwas to the fleet-footed nymph Daphne with golden hair that we owe thevictor's crown at the Olympian games, even though no woman may wear it?"
Daphne shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said.
"I mean this," said the Stranger. "It is said that once upon a timeApollo himself loved a beautiful nymph named Daphne. But Daphne did notlove Apollo even though he was a God, and when he pursued her she ranaway. She was as swift as the wind, but Apollo was still more swift, andwhen she saw that she could not escape him by flight, she prayed to herfather, who was a river god, and, to protect her, he changed her form bymagic. Her arms became branches, her golden hair became leaves, and herfeet took root in the ground. When Apollo reached her side, she was nolonger a beautiful maiden, but a lovely laurel tree. Apollo gathered someof the shining leaves and wove them into a wreath. 'If you will not be mybride,' he cried, 'you shall at least be my tree and your leaves shall bemy crown,' and that is why at the games over which Apollo presides, thevictor is still crowned with laurel. It was Apollo himself who gave usthe custom and made it sacred. So, my little maid," he finished, "yougive us our crowns even though you may not win them for yourselves, don'tyou see? Isn't that almost as good?"
"Maybe it is," sighed Daphne, thoughtfully, "but anyway I'd like to tryit the other way." Then she slid from the Stranger's side to her Mother'sfootstool, and sat down with her head against her Mother's knee.
"You are sleepy," said Lydia, stroking her hair. "It is time you childrenwere in bed."
"Oh, Mother," pleaded Dion, "please let him tell just one more story. Itisn't late, truly." Then he turned to their guest. "Those were very goodstories," he said, "but they were both about girls. Won't you please tellme one about a boy?"
"Very well," said the Stranger, "if your Mother will let me, I will tellyou the story of Perseus and how the great Goddess Athena helped him tocut off the Gorgon's head with its writhing snaky locks! There's a storyfor you! And if you don't believe it is true, some day, when you goto Athens with your Father, you can see the Gorgon's head, snakes andall, on the breastplate of the Goddess Athena, where she has worn it eversince."
"Is it the real Gorgon's head?" asked Dion breathlessly, "all snakes andblood and everything?"
"No," said the Stranger, laughing, "the blood of the Gorgon dried up longago. It is a sculptured head that adorns the breastplate of Athena."
Then the Twins and Chloe listened with open mouth and round eyes toanother of the most wonderful stories in the world, while Lydia forgot tospin and the wine-cup of Melas stood untouched within reach of his hand.Even Lydia forgot all about time, and when the story was finished, themoon had already risen and was looking down upon them over the wall.Lydia pointed to it with her distaff.
"See, children," she said, "the Goddess Artemis herself has come to lightyou to bed. Thank your kind friend and say good-night."