tall and venerable
in a single night, a breeze sprang up, and set their intermingled boughs
astir. And then there was a deep, broad murmur in the air, as if the two
mysterious trees were speaking.

"I am old Philemon!" murmured the oak.

"I am old Baucis!" murmured the linden-tree.

But, as the breeze grew stronger, the trees both spoke at
once,--"Philemon! Baucis! Baucis! Philemon!"--as if one were both and
both were one, and talking together in the depths of their mutual heart.
It was plain enough to perceive that the good old couple had renewed
their age, and were now to spend a quiet and delightful hundred years or
so, Philemon as an oak, and Baucis as a linden-tree. And oh, what a
hospitable shade did they fling around them! Whenever a wayfarer paused
beneath it, he heard a pleasant whisper of the leaves above his head,
and wondered how the sound should so much resemble words like these:--

"Welcome, welcome, dear traveler, welcome!"

And some kind soul, that knew what would have pleased old Baucis and old
Philemon best, built a circular seat around both their trunks, where,
for a great while afterwards, the weary, and the hungry, and the thirsty
used to repose themselves, and quaff milk abundantly out of the
miraculous pitcher.

And I wish, for all our sakes, that we had the pitcher here now!

258

One of the very satisfactory attempts to retell
the classic myths for young readers is to be
found in _Gods and Heroes_ by R. E. Francillon.
The stories are brought together into a "single
_saga_, free from inconsistencies and
contradictions." This gives the book all the
charm of a single story made of many dramatic
episodes. Francillon's version of the familiar
tale of Narcissus and Echo follows by
permission of the publishers. (Copyright. Ginn
& Co., Boston.)

THE NARCISSUS

R. E. FRANCILLON

There was a very beautiful nymph named Echo, who had never, in all her
life, seen anybody handsomer than the god Pan. You have read that Pan
was the chief of all the Satyrs, and what hideous monsters the Satyrs
were. So, when Pan made love to her, she very naturally kept him at a
distance: and, as she supposed him to be no worse-looking than the rest
of the world, she made up her mind to have nothing to do with love or
lovemaking, and was quite content to ramble about the woods all alone.

But one day, to her surprise,