"So they won't have Me at their feast!" she said to herself, when she heard the sound of the merriment to which she had not been bidden. "Very well; they shall be sorry. I see a way to make a bigger piece of mischief than ever was known." So she took a golden apple, wrote some words upon it, and, keeping herself out of sight, threw it into the very middle of the feasters, just when they were most merry. Nobody saw where the apple came from; but of course they supposed it had been thrown among them for frolic; and one of the guests, taking it up, read aloud the words written on it. The words were:-- "FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL!" --nothing more. "What a handsome present somebody has sent me!" said Juno, holding out her hand for the apple. "Sent _you_?" asked Diana. "What an odd mistake, to be sure! Don't you see it is for the most beautiful? I will thank you to hand me what is so clearly intended for _Me_." "You seem to forget _I_ am present!" said Vesta, making a snatch at the apple. "Not at all!" said Ceres; "only _I_ happen to be here, too. And who doubts that where I am there is the most beautiful?" "Except where _I_ am," said Proserpine. "What folly is all this!" said Minerva, the wise. "Wisdom is the only true beauty; and everybody knows that I am the wisest of you all." "But it's for the _most_ beautiful!" said Venus. "The idea of its being for anybody but Me!" Then every nymph and goddess present, and even every woman, put in her claim, until from claiming and disputing it grew to arguing and wrangling and downright quarreling: insults flew about, until the merriment grew into an angry din, the like of which had never been heard. But as it became clear that it was impossible for everybody to be the most beautiful, the claimants gradually settled down into three parties--some taking the side of Venus, others of Juno, others of Minerva. "We shall never settle it among ourselves," said one, when all were fairly out of breath with quarreling. "Let the gods decide." For the gods had been silent all the while; and now they looked at one another in dismay at such an appeal. Jupiter, in his heart, thought Venus the most beautiful; but how could he dare decide against either his wife Juno or his daughter Minerva? Neptune hated Minerva on account of their old quarrel; but it was awkward to choose between his daughter Venus and his sister Juno, of whose temper he, as well as Jupiter, stood in awe. Mars was ready enough to vote for Venus; but then he was afraid of a scandal. And so with all the gods--not one was bold enough to decide on such a terrible question as the beauty of three rival goddesses who were ready to tear out each other's eyes. For Juno was looking like a thunder-cloud, and Minerva like lightning, and Venus like a smiling but treacherous sea.