to the four black horses to set off.  They immediately broke into so swift a gallop that it seemed rather like flying through the air than running along the earth.  In a moment, Proserpina lost sight of the pleasant vale of Enna, in which she had always dwelt.  Another instant, and even the summit of Mount AEtna had become so blue in the distance that she could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that gushed out of its crater.  But still the poor child screamed, and scattered her apron full of flowers along the way, and left a long cry trailing behind the chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it came, ran quickly to see if any mischief had befallen their children.  But Mother Ceres was a great way off, and could not hear the cry.

As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.

“Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?” said he, trying to soften his rough voice.  “I promise not to do you any harm.  What!  You have been gathering flowers?  Wait till we come to my palace, and I will give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all made of pearls, and diamonds, and rubies.  Can you guess who I am?  They call my name Pluto, and I am the king of diamonds and all other precious stones.  Every atom of the gold and silver that lies under the earth belongs to me, to say nothing of the copper and iron, and of the coal-mines, which supply me with abundance of fuel.  Do you see this splendid crown upon my head?  You may have it for a plaything.  Oh, we shall be very good friends, and you will find me more agreeable than you expect, when once we get out of this troublesome sunshine.”

“Let me go home!” cried Proserpina.  “Let me go home!”

“My home is better than your mother’s,” answered King Pluto “It is a palace, all made of gold, with crystal windows; and because there is little or no sunshine thereabouts, the apartments are illuminated with diamond lamps.  You never saw anything half so magnificent as my throne.  If you like, you may sit down on it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the footstool.”

“I don’t care for golden palaces and thrones,” sobbed Proserpina.  “Oh, my mother, my mother!  Carry me back to my mother!”

But King Pluto, as he called himself, only shouted to his steeds to go faster.

“Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina,” said he, in rather a sullen tone.  “I offer you my palace and my crown, and all the riches that are under the earth; and you treat me as if I were doing you an injury.  The one thing which my palace needs is a merry little maid, to run upstairs and down, and cheer up the rooms with her smile.  And this is what you must do for King Pluto.”

“Never!” answered Proserpina, looking as miserable as she could.  “I shall never smile again till you set me down at my mother’s door.”