handed the babe back to its mother, and left the house.

Halting just outside the door, a hot dispute arose between them, each
blaming the others, and nine of them severely accusing the one whose
task it had been to do the cruel deed. He defended himself, saying that
no man with a heart in his breast could have done harm to that smiling
babe,--certainly not he. In the end they decided to go into the house
again, and all take part in the murder.

But they had talked somewhat too long and too loud. Labda had overheard
them and divined their dread intent. Filled with fear, lest they should
return and murder her child, she seized the infant, and, looking eagerly
about for some place in which she might conceal it, chose a _cypsel_, or
corn-bin, as the place least likely to be searched.

Her choice proved a wise one. The men returned, and, as she refused to
tell them where the child was, searched the house in vain,--none of them
thinking of looking for an infant in a corn-bin. At length they went
away, deciding to report that they had done as they were bidden, and
that the child of Aetion was slain.

The boy, in memory of his escape, was named _Cypselus_, after the
corn-bin. He grew up without further molestation, and on coming to man's
estate did what so many of the ancients seemed to have considered
necessary, went to Delphi to consult the oracle.

The pythoness, or priestess of Apollo, at his approach, hailed him as
king of Corinth. "He and his children, but not his children's children."
And the oracle, as was often the case, produced its own accomplishment,
for it encouraged Cypselus to head a rebellion against the oligarchy, by
which it was overthrown and he made king. For thirty years thereafter he
reigned as tyrant of Corinth, with a prosperous but harsh rule. Many of
the Corinthians were put to death by him, others robbed of their
fortunes, and others banished the state. Then he died and left the
government to his son Periander.

Periander began his reign in a mild spirit. But his manner changed after
he had sent a herald to Thrasybulus, the tyrant of Miletus, asking his
advice how he could best rule with honor and fortune. Thrasybulus led
the messenger outside the city and through a field of corn, questioning
him as they walked, while, whenever he came to an ear of corn that
overtopped its fellows, he broke it off and threw it aside. Thus his
path through the field was marked by the downfall of all the tallest