“Omnipotent Zeus, what harm have I done you, fat father!  The gods forgive the sins of the wise, and a man will not forgive the fault committed by a stupid lad in a moment of imprudence.”

“You mocked at him.”

“I set a clay head that was like him on the shoulders of the fat Silenus near the gate, that had lost its own head.  It was my first piece of independent work.”

“But you did it to vex my father.”

“Certainly not, Selene; I was delighted with the joke and nothing more.”

“But you knew how touchy he is.”

“And does a wild boy of fifteen ever reflect on the consequences of his audacity?  If he had but given me a thrashing his annoyance would have discharged itself like thunder and lightning, and the air would have been clear again.  But, as it was, he cut the face off the work with a knife, and deliberately trod the pieces under foot as they lay on the ground.  He gave me one single blow—­with his thumb—­which I still feel, it is true, and then he treated me and my parents with such scorn, so coldly and hardly, with such bitter contempt—­”

“He never is really violent, but wrath seems to eat him inwardly, and I have rarely seen him so angry as he was that time.”

“But if he had only settled the account with me on the spot! but my father was by, and hot words fell like rain, and my mother added her share, and from that time there has been utter hostility between our little house and you up here.  What hurt me most was that you and your sister were forbidden to come to see us and to play with me.”

“That has spoilt many pleasant hours for me, too.”

“It was nice when we used to dress up in my father’s theatrical finery and cloaks.”

“And when you made us dolls out of clay.”.

“Or when we performed the Olympian games.”

“I was always the teacher when we played at school with our little brothers and sisters.”

“Arsinoe gave you most trouble.”

“Oh! and what fun when we went fishing!”

“And when we brought home the fishes and mother gave us meal and raisins to cook them.”

“Do you remember the festival of Adonis, and how I stopped the runaway horse of that Numidian officer?”

“The horse had knocked over Arsinoe, and when we got home mother gave you an almond-cake.”

“And your ungrateful sister bit a great piece out of it and left me only a tiny morsel.  Is Arsinoe as pretty as she promised to become?  It is two years since I last saw her; at our place we never have time to leave work till it is dark.  For eight months I had to work for the master at Ptolemais, and often saw the old folks but once in the month.”

“We go out very little, too, and we are not allowed to go into your parents’ house.  My sister—­”

“Is she pretty?”

“Yes, I think she is.  Whenever she can get hold of a piece of ribbon she plaits it in her hair, and the men in the street turn round to look at her.  She is sixteen now.”