en he broke off one of the horns
with his iron strong hand, and held it up in the air, shouting,

"Victory! The princess is mine!"

Acheloues returned to his own shape, and, crying with pain, ran from
the castle grounds where the combat had taken place, and did not stop
until he had plunged into a cooling stream.

It had been right that Hercules should triumph, for his was strength
of arm, not that of trickery. Deianira stood by his side, and the
goddess of plenty came forward to give the conqueror his reward.

She took the great horn which Hercules had torn from Acheloues' head
and heaped it high with the year's stores. Ripe grain, grapes, apples,
plums, nuts, pomegranates, figs, and all the other fruits of the
autumn filled the horn, and overflowed it. The wood-nymphs and the
water-nymphs came and twined the horn with vines, and crimson leaves,
and the last bright flowers of the year. Then they carried this horn
of plenty, high above their heads, and gave it to Hercules, and his
beautiful queen, Deianira. It was the richest gift the gods could
make, the year's harvest.

And ever since that long-ago story time of the Greeks the horn of
plenty has stood for the year's blessing of us; it is full to
overflowing with the fruits of the harvest.

THE GOOSE WHO TRIED TO KEEP THE SUMMER

There was once an old Wild Goose who had led the flock of other wild
geese every fall for years and years on their way south. He had a
thick coat of white feathers, he wore orange-colored boots, and his
bill was like a gold trumpet when he opened it to call,

_Honk, honk, honk!_

That was the signal for the others to rise from the meadows and the
marshes. He flew at their head, and the rest followed, one line on one
side and one line on the other. He thought himself most important.

Over the woods and the fields and the waters, every one looked for the
old Wild Goose in the fall.

_Honk, honk, honk!_

That was the Wild Goose telling them that it was time to get ready for
the winter in the woods, and in the fields, and over the waters. He
knew they waited for him, so he had grown to feel very proud of
himself. He lived in a marsh that was sheltered on both sides by trees
and was comfortable, even if there was a frost now and then. A robin
had once stayed in those trees all winter and he sang proudly about
it.

"Why do I trouble to go south?" the old Wild Goose thought to himself.
"The weather here will not grow cold if