; so, first flinging his crown and sceptre into
the sea (useless baubles that they were to him now), King Aegeus merely
stooped forward, and fell headlong over the cliff, and was drowned, poor
soul, in the waves that foamed at its base!

This was melancholy news for Prince Theseus, who, when he stepped
ashore, found himself king of all the country, whether he would or no;
and such a turn of fortune was enough to make any young man feel very
much out of spirits. However, he sent for his dear mother to Athens,
and, by taking her advice in matters of state, became a very excellent
monarch, and was greatly beloved by his people.

THE PYGMIES.

A great while ago, when the world was full of wonders, there lived an
earth-born Giant, named Antaeus, and a million or more of curious little
earth-born people, who were called Pygmies. This Giant and these
Pygmies being children of the same mother (that is to say, our good
old Grandmother Earth), were all brethren, and dwelt together in a very
friendly and affectionate manner, far, far off, in the middle of hot
Africa. The Pygmies were so small, and there were so many sandy deserts
and such high mountains between them and the rest of mankind, that
nobody could get a peep at them oftener than once in a hundred years. As
for the Giant, being of a very lofty stature, it was easy enough to see
him, but safest to keep out of his sight.

Among the Pygmies, I suppose, if one of them grew to the height of six
or eight inches, he was reckoned a prodigiously tall man. It must have
been very pretty to behold their little cities, with streets two or
three feet wide, paved with the smallest pebbles, and bordered by
habitations about as big as a squirrel's cage. The king's palace
attained to the stupendous magnitude of Periwinkle's baby house, and
stood in the center of a spacious square, which could hardly have been
covered by our hearth-rug. Their principal temple, or cathedral, was as
lofty as yonder bureau, and was looked upon as a wonderfully sublime and
magnificent edifice. All these structures were built neither of stone
nor wood. They were neatly plastered together by the Pygmy workmen,
pretty much like birds' nests, out of straw, feathers, egg shells, and
other small bits of stuff, with stiff clay instead of mortar; and when
the hot sun had dried them, they were just as snug and comfortable as a
Pygmy could desire.

The country round about was conveniently laid out in fields, th