sprouted out of the earth before her very eyes, as if on purpose to tempt her a few steps farther.  Proserpina’s apron was soon filled and brimming over with delightful blossoms.  She was on the point of turning back in order to rejoin the sea nymphs, and sit with them on the moist sands, all twining wreaths together.  But, a little farther on, what should she behold?  It was a large shrub, completely covered with the most magnificent flowers in the world.

“The darlings!” cried Proserpina; and then she thought to herself, “I was looking at that spot only a moment ago.  How strange it is that I did not see the flowers!”

The nearer she approached the shrub, the more attractive it looked, until she came quite close to it; and then, although its beauty was richer than words can tell, she hardly knew whether to like it or not.  It bore above a hundred flowers of the most brilliant hues, and each different from the others, but all having a kind of resemblance among themselves, which showed them to be sister blossoms.  But there was a deep, glossy lustre on the leaves of the shrub, and on the petals of the flowers, that made Proserpina doubt whether they might not be poisonous.  To tell you the truth, foolish as it may seem, she was half inclined to turn round and run away.

“What a silly child I am!” thought she, taking courage.  “It is really the most beautiful shrub that ever sprang out of the earth.  I will pull it up by the roots, and carry it home, and plant it in my mother’s garden.”

Holding up her apron full of flowers with her left hand, Proserpina seized the large shrub with the other, and pulled and pulled, but was hardly able to loosen the soil about its roots.  What a deep-rooted plant it was!  Again the girl pulled with all her might, and observed that the earth began to stir and crack to some distance around the stem.  She gave another pull, but relaxed her hold, fancying that there was a rumbling sound right beneath her feet.  Did the roots extend down into some enchanted cavern?  Then, laughing at herself for so childish a notion, she made another effort; up came the shrub, and Proserpina staggered back, holding the stem triumphantly in her hand, and gazing at the deep hole which its roots had left in the soil.

Much to her astonishment, this hole kept spreading wider and wider, and growing deeper and deeper, until it really seemed to have no bottom; and all the while, there came a rumbling noise out of its depths, louder and louder, and nearer and nearer, and sounding like the tramp of horses’ hoofs and the rattling of wheels.  Too much frightened to run away, she stood straining her eyes into this wonderful cavity, and soon saw a team of four sable horses, snorting smoke out of their nostrils, and tearing their way out of the earth with a splendid golden chariot whirling at their heels.  They leaped out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all; and there they were, tossing their black manes, flourishing their black tails,