When Ceres discovered that the King of the somber, joyless region under the ground had carried off Proserpine and made her the Queen of his Shades, she left the home of the gods in anger and went to live among mankind. Jupiter at last becoming fearful for the fate of man if earth no longer bore fruit or grain, sent Mercury down to inquire of Pluto if there was any hope of Proserpine's return. The Fates sent reply that if Proserpine had not tasted the pomegranate, the food of death, she could not be detained, otherwise she must remain forever. Ascalaphus then stepped forward and said that he had seen the Queen eat some of the seeds of this fruit,--for which tattling he was turned into a screech owl. Jupiter, pitying Ceres in her disappointment, succeeded in effecting a compromise by inducing his brother to allow Proserpine to spend six months of every year with her mother. This, the Greeks say, is the cause of summer and winter. When Proserpine appears, Ceres commands the seeds, also, to force their way above the ground, the orchards become bright with a wealth of blossoms and the fields fresh with sprouts and vines. Ceres then is happy and the world a busy, beautiful place in which to live, but when Proserpine leaves, she cares not what happens, and the earth grows withered and drear. Of all the myths, Virgo seems the most charming when identified as Proserpine. Watch for the white flame of Spica as it rises just south of east on the 10th of April, for Spica shines on the ear of wheat in the hand of Ceres' daughter and is a symbol of the coming spring. ANTARES [Figure 99] The red star Antares lies on the heart of the Scorpion and stands out conspicuously with a bright star on either side. In Greek legend this is the same Scorpion which so frightened Phæthon, rash child of the Sun-god, when he was driving his father's chariot along the zodiac. The headstrong youth had experienced trouble enough in passing by the ferocious Nemean Lion, and he was just getting a free breath while driving by the Virgin and the Scales when he came to this terrifying creature sprawled along and almost blocking the sky path. Unable to longer control either himself or his excited horses, Phæthon turned the steeds aside and blazed a new pathway, which soon grew cold and left a gray ash across the sky. The strip burned out by the scorching heat of the chariot may still be seen at night and is claimed by some to be the Milky Way.