A Guide to MythologyClarke, Helen A. (Helen Archibald)
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A Guide to Mythology
Clarke, Helen A. (Helen Archibald)
Mythology -- Juvenile literature
Then Demeter, overwhelmed with grief, sought her daughter through the
whole world. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning,
and Hesperus, when he led out the stars in the evening, found her still
busy in the search. At length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone,
and remained nine days and nine nights, in the open air, under the
sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. It was where the city of
Eleusis now stands, near the home of an old man named Celeus. His little
girl, pitying the old woman, said to her: “Mother”—and the name was sweet
to the ears of Demeter—“why sittest thou here alone upon the rocks?” The
old man begged her to come into his cottage. She declined. He urged her.
“Go in peace,” she replied, “and be happy in thy daughter; I have lost
mine.” But their compassion finally prevailed. Demeter rose from the
stone and went with them. As they walked, Celeus said that his only son
lay sick of a fever. The goddess stooped and gathered some poppies. Then,
entering the cottage where all was in distress—for the boy, Triptolemus,
seemed past recovery—she restored the child to life and health with a
kiss. In grateful happiness the family spread the table, and put upon it
curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While they ate, Demeter
mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When night came, she arose
and, taking the sleeping boy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and
uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in
the ashes. His mother, who had been watching what her guest was doing,
sprang forward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. Then
Demeter assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all around.
While they were overcome with astonishment, she said: “Mother, thou hast
been cruel in thy fondness; for I would have made thy son immortal.
Nevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the use
of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the soil.” So
saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and, mounting her chariot, rode
away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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