The Threshing-Floor was an ancient circular platform in the Precinct of Apollo. Every four years a sacred drama of the Python-snake was performed upon it and this year little Dryas had seen it.
“I’ll tell you,” said the disturbing Theria, “you fetch more stones. We’ll make the village and the road that goes by to the Oracle.”
The Oracle was the treasury of beauty and wonder of all Hellas, but to Delphic children it was just a dear bright place within high walls and the scene of their holidays.
Dryas did not answer, but he stopped his play and trotted off toward the outer room, which led to the front door, for the pebbles.
Theria waited impatiently while he brought in skirtful after skirtful of stones. Then she began to make her village, a stone for each well-known house, a line of little stones to show the road which passed their own door and ran windingly along the mountain slope. Theria set her miniature precinct in the sunny part of the court. To her the sunlight always and inevitably rested on that temple place where fane after fane and shrine after shrine mounted the hillside up to the matchless Apollo temple itself, set like a jewel of red and peacock-blue and gold against the shining cliffs.
“The Sacred Way,” murmured Dryas happily as he made the path between the temples. “Here it turns—an’ oh, here’s a sparkly stone for the ’Thenian Treasury.”
“The Knidian Treasury,” corrected Theria. “It’s the Knidian Treasury at the turn.”
“No—’Thenian!”
“No, don’t you remember the pretty marble ladies who hold up the porch?”
Still Dryas maintained his Athenian Treasury.