l, and violent, and
where he went slaughter and blood were sure to follow him and his horrid
daughter Bellona. His star was "the red planet Mars;" but Venus had the
beautiful clear one, which, according as it is seen either at sunrise or
sunset, is called the morning or evening star. Venus also loved a
beautiful young earthly youth, called Adonis, who died of a thrust from a
wild boar's tusk, while his blood stained crimson the pretty flower,
pheasant's eye, which is still called Adonis. Venus was so wretched that
she persuaded Jupiter to decree that Adonis should come back and live for
one-half of the year, but he was to go down to Pluto's underground
kingdom the other half. This is because plants and flowers are beautiful
for one year, die down, and rise again.

[Picture: Triptolemus] But there is a much prettier story, with something
of the same meaning, about Ceres (Demeter), the grave, motherly goddess
of corn and all the fruits of the earth. She had one fair daughter,
named Proserpine (Persephone), who was playing with her companions near
Mount Etna, gathering flowers in the meadows, when grim old Pluto pounced
upon her and carried her off into his underground world to be his bride.
Poor Ceres did not know what had become of her darling, and wandered up
and down the world seeking for her, tasting no food or drink, till at
last, quite spent, she was taken in as a poor woman by Celeus, king of
Eleusis, and became nurse to his infant child Triptolemus. All Eleusis
was made rich with corn, while no rain fell and no crops grew on the rest
of the earth; and though first Iris and then all the gods came to beg
Ceres to relent, she would grant nothing unless she had her daughter
back. So Jupiter sent Mercury to bring Proserpine home; but she was only
to be allowed to stay on earth on condition that she had eaten nothing
while in the under world. Pluto, knowing this, had made her eat half a
pomegranate, and so she could not stay with her mother; but Ceres's tears
prevailed so far that she was to spend the summer above ground and the
winter below. For she really was the flowers and fruit. Ceres had grown
so fond of little Triptolemus that she wanted to make him immortal; but,
as she had no ambrosia, this could only be done by putting him on the
fire night after night to burn away his mortal part. His mother looked
in one night during the operation, and shrieked so that she prevented it;
so all Ceres could do for hi