Oh, sweet and tiny cousins that belong, One to the fields, the other to the hearth, Both have your sunshine. —_Leigh Hunt._ Ruth and Belinda were crossing the meadow, when a big grasshopper made a flying leap, and landed on Belinda’s head. “Do excuse me,” he said; “I missed my aim. No one hurt, I hope, or frightened?” “Oh, no,” answered Ruth. “Belinda is real sensible; she isn’t afraid of anything, and I am just as glad—as _glad_—to see you. Maybe you will——” Ruth hesitated, hoping he would know what she meant to say. She was sure he could tell her a great many things, if only he would. He was so polite and nice; besides, he looked very wise. “I suppose you’re going to the concert,” said Mr. Grasshopper, after waiting a second for Ruth to finish her sentence. “Concert?” she repeated, opening her eyes wide. “What concert?” “Why the Straightwings’ Concert. They give one every sunny day in Summer. Didn’t you know that? Dear me, where were you hatched and where have you been living since? Well, why do you stare at me so? Don’t you like my looks?” “Oh, yes,” Ruth hastened to answer. “You look very nice—something like a little old man.” “I’ve heard that before, and there’s a story about it. Shall I tell it?” “Yes, please; I just love stories.” “Very well. Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived in Greece a beautiful young man named Tithonus. Now it chanced that Tithonus loved Aurora, the Goddess of the Dawn.” “Greece?” said Ruth. “Why, that’s where Arachna lived, the one who turned into a spider, you know?” “Do you want to hear my story or don’t you?” asked Mr. Grasshopper, sharply. “I do want to hear it. I really do.” “Very well, then, don’t interrupt me again. As I was saying, Tithonus loved Aurora, and every morning he would lie in the meadow and wait for her coming. Then the fair goddess would give him her sweetest smiles. But one day Tithonus grew pale and ill, and all the love of Aurora could not make him well again. ‘Alas!’ he cried, ‘I am mortal, and I must die.’ ‘Nay,’ answered Aurora, ‘you shall not die, for I will win for you the gift of the gods.’ And, speeding to the mighty Jupiter, she begged that Tithonus might be as a god, and live forever. So for a while they were happy together, but as the years passed Tithonus grew old and bent, for Aurora had forgotten to ask that he might always be young. Grieving much, Tithonus lay under the shadow of the trees and sighed through the long days.”