m. And the road
is endless: yes, you really live _too_ far away!

"_Praxinoe._ It is all the fault of that madman of mine! Here he came
to the ends of the earth, and took--a hole, not a house, and all
that we might not be neighbors. The jealous wretch, always the
same, ever for spite!

"_Gorgo._ Don't talk of Dinon, your husband, like that, my dear girl,
before the little boy. Look how he is staring at you! Never mind,
Zopyrion, sweet child, she is not speaking about papa.

"_Praxinoe._ Our Lady Persephone! The child takes notice!

"_Gorgo._ Nice papa!

"_Praxinoe._ That papa of his the other day--we call every day 'the
other day'--went to get soap and rouge at the shop, and back he
came to me with salt--the great, big endless fellow!"

"But, Miss Adams," interrupted Dulcie, "surely this isn't an old Greek
play? It sounds absolutely and entirely modern!"

"As a matter of fact, it was written by Theocritus about the year 266 B.
C. It describes the visit paid by two Syracusan ladies residing in
Alexandria to the festival of Adonis. Their manners and talk then must
have been very similar to ours of to-day. Listen to the part where they
are getting ready to start.

"_Gorgo._ It seems nearly time to go.

"_Praxinoe._ Idlers have always holidays. Eunoe, bring the water, and
put it down in the middle of the room, lazy creature that you are!
Cats always like to sleep soft! Come, bustle, bring the
water--quicker! I want water first, and how she carries it! Give it
me all the same: don't pour out so much, you extravagant thing!
Stupid girl! Why are you wetting my dress? There, stop, I have
washed my hands, as heaven would have it! Where is the key of the
big chest? Bring it here.

"_Gorgo._ Praxinoe, that full body becomes you wonderfully. Tell me,
how much did the stuff cost you just off the loom?

"_Praxinoe._ Don't speak of it, Gorgo! More than eight pounds in good
silver money--and the work on it! I nearly slaved my soul out over
it.

"_Gorgo._ Well, it is _most_ successful: all you could wish.

"_Praxinoe._ Thanks for the pretty speech. Eunoe, bring my shawl, and
set my hat on my head, the fashionable way. No, Zopyrion, I don't
mean to take _you_! Boo! Bogies! There's a horse that bites! Cry as
much as you please, but I cannot have you lamed. Let us be moving.