Pygmalion gave Galatea the presents that a young girl of Greece loved, bright shells and polished stones, birds in golden cages, flowers of many colors, beads, and amber. He dressed her in silk and put jewels on her fingers and a necklace about her neck. She wore ear rings and many strings of pearls. When he had done all this Venus rewarded him. Pygmalion, returning to his home one day, touched his statue and the ivory felt soft and yielded to his fingers as if it had been wax. Its pallor changed to the color of life, and Galatea opened her eyes and smiled at Pygmalion. After that all Cyprus was changed for this king who had been selfish and hardhearted. He was able to hear the silvery song of his fountain that he had never noticed before. He began to love the forests, and flowers, and people, for Venus had given him Galatea to share his kingdom. Venus and Vulcan began to spend about as much time with the gods as they did on the earth, for Mount Olympus was their real home. Venus carried her roses there to deck her hand-maidens, the Graces, who presided over the banquets, the dances, and the arts of the gods. She was watchful of mortals, though, for she knew that they would always have need of her. WHERE THE LABYRINTH LED Daedalous stood in the shadows at the entrance of the Labyrinth and watched one of the heroes enter the dark passageway. It was a strange, secret edifice that Daedalous, an artist of the gods, had built with his mighty skill. Numberless winding passageways and turnings opened one into the other in a confusing maze that seemed to have no beginning or end. There was a river in Greece, the Maeander, that had never been traced to its source, for it flowed forward and backward, always returning and Daedalous had planned the Labyrinth like the course of the river Maeander. There was hardly anything that Daedalous was not able to do with his hands, for he had been given great gifts by the gods. But he liked trickery more than honesty and had spent years and used his clever brain in inventing this maze. As he peered into the dark alleys of the Labyrinth he saw the hero disappear. He would never return, Daedalous knew, for no one yet had ever been able to retrace his steps through its turnings. Like many secret things, the Labyrinth caught and destroyed even the brave.