When Pluto heard this, he began to see that he had mistaken the best method of tempting Proserpina to eat.  The cook’s made dishes and artificial dainties were not half so delicious, in the good child’s opinion, as the simple fare to which Mother Ceres had accustomed her.  Wondering that he had never thought of it before, the king now sent one of his trusty attendants, with a large basket, to get some of the finest and juiciest pears, peaches, and plums which could anywhere be found in the upper world.  Unfortunately, however, this was during the time when Ceres had forbidden any fruits or vegetables to grow; and, after seeking all over the earth, King Pluto’s servants found only a single pomegranate, and that so dried up as to be not worth eating.  Nevertheless, since there was no better to be had, he brought this dry, old, withered pomegranate home to the palace, put it on a magnificent golden salver, and carried it up to Proserpina.  Now it happened, curiously enough, that, just as the servant was bringing the pomegranate into the back door of the palace, our friend Quicksilver had gone up the front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina away from King Pluto.

As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden salver, she told the servant he had better take it away again.

“I shall not touch it, I assure you,” said she.  “If I were ever so hungry, I should never think of eating such a miserable, dry pomegranate as that.”

“It is the only one in the world,” said the servant.

He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pomegranate upon it, and left the room.  When he was gone, Proserpina could not help coming close to the table, and looking at this poor specimen of dried fruit with a great deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on seeing something that suited her taste, she felt all the six months’ appetite taking possession of her at once.  To be sure, it was a very wretched-looking pomegranate, and seemed to have no more juice in it than an oyster-shell.  But there was no choice of such things in King Pluto’s palace.  This was the first fruit she had seen there, and the last she was ever likely to see; and unless she ate it up immediately, it would grow drier than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat.

“At least, I may smell it,” thought Proserpina.

So she took up the pomegranate, and applied it to her nose; and, somehow or other, being in such close neighborhood to her mouth, the fruit found its way into that little red cave.  Dear me! what an everlasting pity!  Before Proserpina knew what she was about, her teeth had actually bitten it, of their own accord.  Just as this fatal deed was done, the door of the apartment opened, and in came King Pluto, followed by Quicksilver, who had been urging him to let his little prisoner go.  At the first noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew the pomegranate from her mouth.  But Quicksilver (whose eyes were very keen, and his wits the sharpest that ever anybody had) perceived that the child was a little confused; and seeing the empty salver, he suspected that she had been taking a sly nibble of something or other.  As for honest Pluto, he never guessed at the secret.