be called by her
name, and where, in time to come, her children shall build great and
mighty cities, and their name shall be spread abroad throughout all
the earth for strength and wisdom."

So the maiden Kyrene came to the Libyan land, and there Aristaios, her
child, was born. And Hermes carried the babe to the bright Horai, who
granted him an endless life; and he dwelt in the broad Libyan plains,
tending his flocks, and bringing forth rich harvests from the earth.
For him the bees wrought their sweetest honey; for him the sheep gave
their softest wool; for him the cornfields waved with their fullest
grain. No blight touched the grapes which his hand had tended; no
sickness vexed the herds which fed in his pastures. And they who dwelt
in the land said, "Strife and war bring no such gifts as these to the
sons of men; therefore let us live in peace."

HERMES.

Early in the morning, long ago, in a cave of the great Kyllenian hill,
lay the new-born Hermes, the son of Zeus and Maia. The cradle-clothes
were scarcely stirred by his soft breathing, while he slept as
peacefully as the children of mortal mothers. But the sun had not
driven his fiery chariot half over the heaven, when the babe arose
from his sacred cradle and stepped forth from the dark cavern. Before
the threshold a tortoise fed lazily on the grass; and when the child
saw it he laughed merrily. "Ah! this is luck, indeed," he said;
"whence hast thou come, pretty creature, with thy bright speckled
shell? Thou art mine now, and I must take thee into my cave. It is
better to be under shelter than out of doors; and though there may be
some use in thee while thou livest, it will comfort thee to think that
thou wilt sing sweetly when thou art dead." So the child Hermes took
up his treasure in both arms, and carried it into the cavern. There he
took an iron probe, and pierced out the life of the tortoise; and
quick as thought, he drilled holes in its shell, and fixed in them
reed-canes. Then across the shell he fastened a piece of ox-hide, and
with seven sheep-gut cords he finished the making of his lyre.
Presently he struck it with the bow, and a wave of sweet music swelled
out upon the air. Like the merry songs of youths and maidens, as they
sport in village feasts, rose the song of the child Hermes; and his
eyes laughed slyly as he sang of the loves of Zeus and Maia, and how
he himself was born of the mighty race of the gods. Still he sang on,
telling of all th