except that the snakes continued to wriggle.
But, in my private opinion, old Philemon's eyesight had been playing him
tricks again.

Before he could ask any questions, the elder stranger drew his attention
from the wonderful staff by speaking to him.

"Was there not," asked the stranger, in a remarkably deep tone of voice,
"a lake, in very ancient times, covering the spot where now stands
yonder village?"

"Not in my day, friend," answered Philemon; "and yet I am an old man, as
you see. There were always the fields and meadows, just as they are now,
and the old trees, and the little stream murmuring through the midst of
the valley. My father, nor his father before him, ever saw it otherwise,
so far as I know; and doubtless it will still be the same when old
Philemon shall be gone and forgotten!"

"That is more than can be safely foretold," observed the stranger; and
there was something very stern in his deep voice. He shook his head,
too, so that his dark and heavy curls were shaken with the movement.
"Since the inhabitants of yonder village have forgotten the affections
and sympathies of their nature, it were better that the lake should be
rippling over their dwellings again!"

The traveler looked so stern that Philemon was really almost frightened;
the more so, that, at his frown, the twilight seemed suddenly to grow
darker, and that, when he shook his head, there was a roll as of thunder
in the air.

But, in a moment afterwards, the stranger's face became so kindly and
mild that the old man quite forgot his terror. Nevertheless, he could
not help feeling that this elder traveler must be no ordinary personage,
although he happened now to be attired so humbly, and to be journeying
on foot. Not that Philemon fancied him a prince in disguise, or any
character of that sort; but rather some exceedingly wise man, who went
about the world in this poor garb, despising wealth and all worldly
objects, and seeking everywhere to add a mite to his wisdom. This idea
appeared the more probable, because, when Philemon raised his eyes to
the stranger's face, he seemed to see more thought there, in one look,
than he could have studied out in a lifetime.

While Baucis was getting the supper, the travelers both began to talk
very sociably with Philemon. The younger, indeed, was extremely
loquacious, and made such shrewd and witty remarks, that the good old
man continually burst out a-laughing, and pronounced him the merriest
fe