ever. As long as Proserpina was above ground there might
have been hopes of regaining her. But now that the poor child was shut up
within the iron gates of the king of the mines, at the threshold of which
lay the three-headed Cerberus, there seemed no possibility of her ever
making her escape. The dismal Hecate, who loved to take the darkest view
of things, told Ceres that she had better come with her to the cavern, and
spend the rest of her life in being miserable. Ceres answered that Hecate
was welcome to go back thither herself, but that, for her part, she would
wander about the earth in quest of the entrance to King Pluto's dominions.
And Hecate took her at her word, and hurried back to her beloved cave,
frightening a great many little children with a glimpse of her dog's face,
as she went.
Poor Mother Ceres! It is melancholy to think of her, pursuing her toilsome
way all alone, and holding up that never-dying torch, the flame of which
seemed an emblem of the grief and hope that burned together in her heart.
So much did she suffer, that, though her aspect had been quite youthful
when her troubles began, she grew to look like an elderly person in a very
brief time. She cared not how she was dressed, nor had she ever thought of
flinging away the wreath of withered poppies, which she put on the very
morning of Proserpina's disappearance. She roamed about in so wild a way,
and with her hair so dishevelled, that people took her for some distracted
creature, and never dreamed that this was Mother Ceres, who had the
oversight of every seed which the husbandman planted. Nowadays, however,
she gave herself no trouble about seed-time nor harvest, but left the
farmers to take care of their own affairs, and the crops to fade or
flourish, as the case might be. There was nothing, now, in which Ceres
seemed to feel an interest, unless when she saw children at play or
gathering flowers along the wayside. Then, indeed, she would stand and
gaze at them with tears in her eyes. The children, too, appeared to have a
sympathy with her grief, and would cluster themselves in a little group
about her knees, and look up wistfully in her face; and Ceres, after
giving them a kiss all around, would lead them to their homes, and advise
their mothers never to let them stray out of sight.
"For if you do," said she, "it may happen to you, as it has to me, that
the iron-hearted King Pluto will take a liking to your darlings, and
snatch them up in
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