prize
to Athena; she is the fairest.' And Paris would have placed the golden
apple in her hand, had not Aphrodite stepped quickly forward, and in
the sweetest, merriest tones, addressed him.

"'You may look at my face, and judge for yourself as to whether I am
fair,' said she laughing, and tossing her curls. 'All I shall say is
this: Give me the prize, and you shall have for your wife the most
beautiful woman in the world.'

"The heart of Oenone stood still as Paris placed the apple in
Aphrodite's hand; and a nameless dread came over her, as if the earth
were sinking beneath her feet. But the next moment the blood came back
to her cheeks, and she breathed free and strong again; for she heard
Paris say, 'I have a wife, Oenone, who to me is the loveliest of
mortals, and I care not for your offer; yet I give to you the apple,
for I know that you are the fairest among the deathless ones who live
on high Olympus.'"

"On the very next day it happened that King Priam sat thoughtfully in
his palace, and all his boys and girls--nearly fifty in number--were
about him. His mind turned sadly to the little babe whom he had sent
away, many years ago, to die alone on wooded Ida. And he said to
himself, 'The child has been long dead, and yet no feast has been given
to the gods that they may make his little spirit glad in the shadowy
land of Hades. This must not be neglected longer. Within three days a
feast must be made, and we will hold games in his honor.'

"Then he called his servants, and bade them go to the pastures on Mount
Ida, and choose from the herds that were there the fattest and
handsomest bull, to be given as a prize to the winner in the games.
And he proclaimed through all Ilios, that on the third day there would
be a great feast in his palace, and games would be held in honor of the
little babe who had died twenty years before.

"Now, when the servants came to Mount Ida, they chose a bull for which
Paris had long cared, and which he loved more than any other. He
protested and would not let the beast be driven from the pasture until
it was agreed that he might go to the city with it and contend in the
games for the prize. But Oenone, the river nymph, wept and prayed him
not to go.

"'Leave not the pleasant pasture lands of Ida, even for a day,' said
she; 'for my heart tells me that you will not return.'

"'Think not so, my fair one,' said Paris. 'Did not Aphrodite promise
that the most beautiful wom