"O Ceres," came the words, scarcely distinguishable, "I made a long journey underground, to cool my waters ere they burst forth at this point. As I passed through the lower world, I saw, seated beside Pluto on his gloomy throne, a queen, crowned with stars and poppies. Strangely like Proserpina she looked." The words died away, and Ceres, knowing well that none but the king of gods could help her now, hastened to Olympus and cast herself at the feet of Jupiter. "Listen, O father of gods and men," she said. "What is that sound which you hear rising from the earth?" "It sounds to me," replied Jupiter, "like the wailing of men, joined with the bleating of sheep and the lowing of cattle. Who is afflicting my people on earth?" "It is I," replied Ceres sternly; "I, of old their best friend. Never shall spear of grass or blade of corn show above the ground, never shall blossom or fruit appear on any tree, until my beloved daughter is brought back to me from the realm of Pluto." Then indeed there was consternation on Olympus; for Jupiter did not wish to anger his brother, and yet, how could he let the earth continue to be barren? There was much consulting of the Fates, those three dread sisters whose decrees even Jupiter could not break, and finally Jupiter called Mercury to him, and said: "Hasten to the lower world, and lead thence Proserpina, the daughter of Ceres. Only, if during her stay there she have allowed food to pass her lips, she shall not return." Meanwhile, Proserpina had been dwelling in gloom. How could one whose chief care had been the flowers, whose chief joy had been to stray abroad in the sunshine with gay companions, be happy in a realm where the sun never shone, where no flowers ever grew save the white, sleep- bringing poppies, where she had no companions except the gloomy king of the dead? Pluto was kind to her, he showered jewels upon her, and gorgeous raiment; but what meant such things to her when she could not delight with them the eyes of her mother and her friends? The dead over whom she reigned she could not even make happy, and the only one who seemed to have profited at all by her coming to Hades was Pluto, who was of a certainty somewhat less stern and gloomy. Of all the food that had been set before Proserpina since she entered Hades, nothing had tempted her but a pomegranate, and of that she had eaten but six seeds. This one taste of food, however, she soon had reason to regret, for ere long Mercury, Jupiter's messenger, stood before Pluto and cried with a flourish: "Hear the decree of mighty Jupiter and of the Fates, powerful over all. The Lady Proserpina shall return with me, the messenger of mighty Jupiter, to the upper world. Only, if she have allowed food to pass her lips, she shall not return, but shall remain queen of the dead forever."