rt," he
said, "in an exile's house I salute a Roman."

FORTUNE'S LEDGER

I

His Lady of Gifts smiled at him and held out her hand with something
shut tight inside of it. The white fingers were just about to open
into his palm, when he felt his mother's hand on his and heard her
say: "Come, Marcus, come, the sun will get ahead of you this morning."
He knew that she had kissed his eyes and hurried away again before
he could open them upon the faint, grey light in his tiny room. A
piercing thought put an end to sleepiness and brought him swiftly
from his bed. This was the day of his Lady's festival! His mother
seemed to have forgotten it, but he could say a prayer for her as
well as for himself at the shrine by the Spring. He must make haste
now, however, for before the June sun should fairly have come up over
the tops of the hills he must get his sheep and goats to their pasture
on the lower slopes.

When he had slipped into his blue cotton tunic, which reached just
to his knees, leaving bare his stout brown legs, he went into his
mother's room and plunged his head into a copper basin of water
standing ready for his use. Shaking the drops from his black curls,
he hastened on to the kitchen for his porridge. His grandfather was
already there, sitting in his large chair, mumbling half-heard words
to himself, while his daughter-in-law dipped out his breakfast from
a pot hung over a small fire laid frugally in the middle of the wide,
stone hearth. Marcus went up to him and kissed his forehead before
he threw his arms around the neck of the big white sheep-dog which
had leaped forward as he entered. His mother smiled out of her tired
eyes as she gave him his morning portion, and then began to wrap up
in a spotless napkin the dry bread and few olives which were to be
his lunch in the pasture. When the last bit of hot porridge and the
cup of goat's milk had been finished, he kissed her hand, gave the
signal to the impatient dog, and ran across the courtyard to the fold
where his meagre flock awaited their release. The sky was turning
pink and gold, the sweet air of dawn filled his nostrils and, in spite
of his mother's forgetfulness, he knew that on this day of all days
in the year Good Fortune might be met by mortals face to face. As
he and his dog marshalled the sheep and goats out of the gate, he
turned happily toward the long, hard road which to him was but a
pathway to his upland pasture and his Lady's shrine.