Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Magicians -- Juvenile fiction; Seven Wonders of the World -- Juvenile fiction
Her bewildering thoughts were interrupted by a long shrill whistle from
Agis. It was so like the sort of whistle her brother Jack gave when he
was teasing her, that Rachel laughed. After all, Agis was very much
like an ordinary schoolboy, even though he did talk in what she called
“an old-fashioned long-ago” style.
“You know not _Olympia_, maidens? What then have you to live for, if
you know not the Olympic games?”
“We really _don’t_ know anything about them,” said Rachel,
apologetically. “You see we live in a different country, and—well, in
a different time.”
She couldn’t help adding this, in her desire to defend herself from the
charge of ignorance, but the boy took no notice of the last remark.
“Come with me, and by degrees it may be I shall enlighten you,” he
said, still in a mocking voice.
He turned quickly, and Rachel and Diana, after one backward glance at
the snow-white temple adorned with its perfect sculpture, followed him
meekly down the hill. In a few moments they found themselves threading
their way through the narrow streets of the city of Athens. These
streets were bounded on either side by blank walls, broken here and
there by a door.
“But where are the houses?” enquired Diana presently.
“These doors lead to our houses,” returned the boy, tapping one of them
as he passed.
“There aren’t any windows!” objected Rachel.
“Would you have windows upon the street?” said Agis. “An idea comic
indeed, O maidens!”
The children were too occupied with the strangeness of everything
around them to reply to this. Every now and then they emerged
from narrow roads between walls into a great square, and here the
surrounding buildings were magnificent. There were long colonnades
where people, dressed more or less in the same fashion as Agis, lounged
or walked, and often in the midst of the square they saw beautiful
statues.
“Look!” said Diana presently, pointing to a garland of leaves hung upon
the knocker of a door. “Why is that wreath put there?” They had turned
into another narrow street by this time.
“A new-born child is in the house without doubt,” returned Agis
carelessly. “A boy.”
“How do you know?” asked Rachel.
“If it had been a girl, there would be a wreath of wool, instead of
olive leaves. You may see such a one over there,” replied Agis,
nodding in the direction of another door further on, where a twisted
loop of violet wool hung from a knocker.
The children were much interested.
“It’s awfully nice to know like that about the babies,” declared
Diana.... “Where are we going, Agis? What is this place?” she added
curiously, as the boy ran on in front of them up a broad flight of
steps leading to an imposing building.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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