achus strode up the rocky
path. Odysseus and the swineherd had kindled a fire, and were
preparing the morning meal, when Odysseus heard the noise of
footsteps. He looked out and saw a tall lad with yellow hair and
bright eyes, and a fearless, noble face. "Surely here is a friend," he
said to the swineherd. "Thy dogs are not barking, but jump up and fawn
on him."

The swineherd looked, and when he saw his young master he wept for
joy.

"I thought I should never see thee more, sweet light of my eyes," he
said. "Come into my hut, that I may gladden my heart with the sight of
thee."

He then spread before him the best he had, and the three men ate
together. Although Odysseus seemed only a poor, ragged, old beggar,
Telemachus treated him with such gentleness and such courtesy that
Odysseus was proud and glad of his noble son. Soon Telemachus sent the
swineherd to tell Penelope of his safe return, and while he was gone
Athene entered the hut. She made herself invisible to Telemachus, but
beckoned to Odysseus to go outside.

"The time is come for thee to tell thy son who thou art," she said,
and touched him with her golden wand.

At once Odysseus was again a strong man, dressed in fine robes, and
radiant and beautiful as the sun.

When he went back into the hut Telemachus thought he was a god.

"No god am I," said Odysseus; "I am thy father, Telemachus."

And Odysseus took his son in his arms and kissed him, and the tears
that he had kept back until now ran down his cheeks. Telemachus flung
his arms round his father's neck, and he, too, wept like a little
child, so glad was he that Odysseus had come home.

All day they spoke of the wooers and plotted how to slay them.

When the swineherd returned, and Athene had once more changed Odysseus
into an old beggar-man, he told Telemachus that the wooers had
returned, and were so furious with Telemachus for escaping from them,
that they were going to kill him next day.

At this Telemachus smiled to his father, but neither said a word.

Next morning Telemachus took his spear and said to the swineherd:

"I go to the palace to see my mother. As for this old beggar-man, lead
him to the city, that he may beg there."

And Odysseus, still pretending to be a beggar, said:

"It is better to beg in the town than in the fields. My garments are
very poor and thin, and this frosty air chills me; but as soon as I am
warmed at the fire and the sun grows hot, I will gladly set out.