ves on the
beautiful earth, had ever been sick, or out of sorts.

At length, discovering that, somehow or other, he put a stop to all the
play, Epimetheus judged it best to go back to Pandora, who was in a
humor better suited to his own. But, with a hope of giving her pleasure,
he gathered some flowers, and made them into a wreath, which he meant to
put upon her head. The flowers were very lovely,--roses, and lilies, and
orange-blossoms, and a great many more, which left a trail of fragrance
behind, as Epimetheus carried them along; and the wreath was put
together with as much skill as could reasonably be expected of a boy.
The fingers of little girls, it has always appeared to me, are the
fittest to twine flower-wreaths; but boys could do it, in those days,
rather better than they can now.

And here I must mention that a great black cloud had been gathering in
the sky, for some time past, although it had not yet overspread the sun.
But, just as Epimetheus reached the cottage door, this cloud began to
intercept the sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and sad obscurity.

He entered softly; for he meant, if possible, to steal behind Pandora,
and fling the wreath of flowers over her head, before she should be
aware of his approach. But, as it happened, there was no need of his
treading so very lightly. He might have trod as heavily as he
pleased,--as heavily as a grown man,--as heavily, I was going to say, as
an elephant,--without much probability of Pandora's hearing his
footsteps. She was too intent upon her purpose. At the moment of his
entering the cottage, the naughty child had put her hand to the lid, and
was on the point of opening the mysterious box. Epimetheus beheld her.
If he had cried out, Pandora would probably have withdrawn her hand, and
the fatal mystery of the box might never have been known.

But Epimetheus himself, although he said very little about it, had his
own share of curiosity to know what was inside. Perceiving that Pandora
was resolved to find out the secret, he determined that his playfellow
should not be the only wise person in the cottage. And if there were
anything pretty or valuable in the box, he meant to take half of it to
himself. Thus, after all his sage speeches to Pandora about restraining
her curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be quite as foolish, and nearly
as much in fault, as she. So, whenever we blame Pandora for what
happened, we must not forget to shake our heads at Epimeth