time Midas, the son of Gordias, came to inherit the throne and
crown of Phrygia. Like many another not born and bred to the purple,
his honours sat heavily upon him. From the day that his father's wain
had entered the city amidst the acclamations of the people, he had
learned the value of power, and therefore, from his boyhood onward,
power, always more power, was what he coveted. Also his peasant father
had taught him that gold could buy power, and so Midas ever longed for
more gold, that could buy him a place in the world that no descendant
of a long race of kings should be able to contest. And from Olympus
the gods looked down and smiled, and vowed that Midas should have the
chance of realising his heart's desire.

Therefore one day when he and his court were sitting in the solemn
state that Midas required, there rode into their midst, tipsily
swaying on the back of a gentle full-fed old grey ass, ivy-crowned,
jovial and foolish, the satyr Silenus, guardian of the young god
Bacchus.

With all the deference due to the friend of a god Midas treated this
disreputable old pedagogue, and for ten days and nights on end he
feasted him royally. On the eleventh day Bacchus came in search of his
preceptor, and in deep gratitude bade Midas demand of him what he
would, because he had done Silenus honour when to dishonour him lay in
his power.

Not even for a moment did Midas ponder.

"I would have gold," he said hastily--"much gold. I would have that
touch by which all common and valueless things become golden
treasures."

And Bacchus, knowing that here spoke the son of peasants who many
times had gone empty to bed after a day of toilful striving on the
rocky uplands of Phrygia, looked a little sadly in the eager face of
Midas, and answered: "Be it as thou wilt. Thine shall be the golden
touch."

Then Bacchus and Silenus went away, a rout of singing revellers at
their heels, and Midas quickly put to proof the words of Bacchus.

An olive tree grew near where he stood, and from it he picked a little
twig decked with leaves of softest grey, and lo, it grew heavy as he
held it, and glittered like a piece of his crown. He stooped to touch
the green turf on which some fragrant violets grew, and turf grew into
cloth of gold, and violets lost their fragrance and became hard,
solid, golden things. He touched an apple whose cheek grew rosy in the
sun, and at once it became like the golden fruit in the Garden of the
Hesperides.