These suppers were eaten by the poor, together with the eggs and other small offerings used in purifying places. Luc. Dial. Mort. i. § 1. Catapl. § 7. Lomeier, de Lustrat. c. xxi. p. 258, seq. Cakes called Amphiphontes were offered to Artemis within a circle of burning torches. These offerings were made in the temples, and on cross-roads, at the full moon, when the sun, rising ere the moon sets, there is constant light throughout the twenty-four hours, which was signified by the ring of torches; the whole round of the day being filled with light. In the island of Hecatè, on the coast of Delos, the Delians used to dedicate offerings to Iris, of cakes called Basynias, made with wheaten flour and honey, the offering called cokkora, a dried fig, and three walnuts. Athen. xiv. 53. The Athenians, when sacrificing to the Seasons, offered up boiled meat, and not roasted, as on other occasions; praying to be protected from the heats which dry up and destroy everything, and to be blessed with moderate warmth, to ripen and bring everything to perfection. Id. xiv. 72. Footnote 375: Herod. Vit. Hom. § 33. t. ii. p. 362. Schweigh.—Meurs. Gr. Fer. p. 213, seq. ----- There was a class of beggars who went about the country begging for the crow,[376] holding, apparently, a tame bird of that species like a falcon on their wrist, and chanting the following ditty:— SONG OF THE CROW. Good people, a handful of barley bestow On the bearers about of the sable crow— Apollo’s daughter she— But if the barley heap wax low, Still kindly let your bounty flow, And of the yellow grains that grow On the wheaten stalk be free. Or a well-kneaded loaf or an obolos give, Or what you will, for the crow must live. If the gods have been bountiful to you to-day, Oh say not to her for whom we sing, Say not, we implore you, nay, To the bird of the cloudy wing. A grain of salt will please her well, And whoso this day that bestows, May next day give (for who can tell?) A comb from which the honey flows. But come, come, what need we say more? Open the door, boy, open the door, For Plutos has heard our prayers. And see, through the porch a damsel, as sweet As the winds that play round the flowery feet Of Ida, comes the crow to meet, And a basket of figs she bears. Oh may this maiden happy be, And from care and sorrow free; Let her all good fortune find, And a husband rich and kind. And when her parents have grown old, Let her in her father’s arms Place a boy as fair as she, With the ringlets all of gold,