[Illustration: PEGASUS AT THE FOUNTAIN] And that was the reason why he laughed. "Pegasus, indeed!" cried he, turning up his nose as high as such a flat nose could be turned up. "Pegasus, indeed! A winged horse, truly! Why, friend, are you in your senses? Of what use would wings be to a horse? Could he drag the plow so well, think you? To be sure, there might be a little saving in the expense of shoes, but then how would a man like to see his horse flying out of the stable window?--yes, or whisking him up above the clouds when he only wanted to ride to mill? No, no! I don't believe in Pegasus. There never was such a ridiculous kind of a horse- fowl made!" "I have reason to think otherwise," said Bellerophon quietly. And then he turned to an old gray man who was leaning on a staff and listening very attentively with his head stretched forward and one hand at his ear, because for the last twenty years he had been getting rather deaf. "And what say you, venerable sir?" inquired he. "In your younger days, I should imagine, you must frequently have seen the winged steed." "Ah, young stranger, my memory is very poor," said the aged man. "When I was a lad, if I remember rightly, I used to believe there was such a horse, and so did everybody else. But nowadays I hardly know what to think, and very seldom think about the winged horse at all. If I ever saw the creature, it was a long, long while ago; and, to tell you the truth, I doubt whether I ever did see him. One day, to be sure, when I was quite a youth, I remember seeing some hoof-prints round about the brink of the fountain. Pegasus might have made those hoof-marks, and so might some other horse." "And have you never seen him, my fair maiden?" asked Bellerophon of the girl, who stood with the pitcher on her head while this talk went on. "You surely could see Pegasus if anybody can, for your eyes are very bright." "Once I thought I saw him," replied the maiden, with a smile and a blush. "It was either Pegasus or a large white bird a very great way up in the air. And one other time, as I was coming to the fountain with my pitcher, I heard a neigh. Oh, such a brisk and melodious neigh as that was! My very heart leaped with delight at the sound. But it startled me, nevertheless, so that I ran home without filling my pitcher." "That was truly a pity!" said Bellerophon. And he turned to the child whom I mentioned at the beginning of the story, and who was gazing at him, as children are apt to gaze at strangers, with his rosy mouth wide open. "Well, my little fellow," cried Bellerophon, playfully pulling one of his curls, "I suppose you have often seen the winged horse." "That I have," answered the child very readily. "I saw him yesterday and many times before." "You are a fine little man!" said Bellerophon, drawing the child closer to him. "Come, tell me all about it."