Long ago there lived on the earth a good goddess or fairy whose name was Ceres.[62] It was she who made the corn and the grass and the flowers grow. She drove over the fields in her magic chariot and waved her wand. Then the trees put forth green leaves, the grain sprouted, and the fruits glistened in red and gold colors. She was the queen of all growing plants.
Ceres had an only daughter, of whom she was very fond. Her name was Proserpina.[62] One day Proserpina begged her mother to allow her to go into the meadow to gather flowers.
"You hardly ever let me wander in the fields, Mother," she said. "Other girls go. Do let me go to-day. I shall be gone only a short time."
Ceres did not like to let her daughter go. She feared some harm might come to the little girl. But Proserpina begged so piteously that, finally, Ceres agreed.
"But," she said, "you must not go farther than the brook that borders the meadow. Do not cross that. I want to be able to see you when I look out of my window."
Proserpina promised gladly. In a minute she had put on her bonnet and had kissed her mother good-bye. With a basket on her arm she ran gaily toward the near-by fields. They were dotted, on this sunny morning, with the most beautiful flowers. Ceres at her window watched the happy girl for a time. Then she returned to her work, for she was always very busy.
Proserpina, like a butterfly that is glad to use its wings, wandered delightedly from flower to flower. Never had the sunshine seemed brighter and pleasanter. Never had the birds sung more happily. Never had she seen such beautiful flowers. The violets seemed larger and sweeter than ever before. The roses, the pinks, and the lilacs seemed to be wearing holiday clothes. In a short time she had filled not only her basket but also her apron with the choicest blossoms. Then she sat in the tall grass and clover to make some wreaths. She decided to make one for herself and a large, beautiful one for her mother.
As she sat there in the sunshine and twined the stems of flowers into pretty wreaths, she suddenly heard a low murmuring. It seemed to come from near by. She listened. The sound kept steadily on. She arose to see what it was. A few steps showed her that she had heard only the murmuring and splashing and babbling of a little brook. It bordered the meadow in which she had been gathering flowers and was the very brook that her mother had told her not to cross.
And now a strange thing happened. As Proserpina stood beside the running water, she saw, just a little distance on the other side, a large shrub such as she had never set eyes on before. It was completely covered with the most wonderful flowers in the world. Before she knew what she was doing she had stepped lightly across the brook. The nearer she came to the beautiful plant, the more attractive it looked; and when she stood close to it, its beauty seemed richer than anything she had ever seen. There were a hundred flowers on it. Each had a color of its own. All together they made one beautiful bouquet.
Proserpina was so charmed with what she saw that she did nothing at first but look and look at the magical sight. At length, however, she made up her mind to pull the shrub up and carry it home.
"I will plant it in our garden at home," she said.
So she took hold of the thick stem at the center of the plant and pulled. It would not come up. She tried harder and loosened it a little. Then she grasped it firmly near the ground with both hands, and pulled and pulled with all her might. Suddenly, up came the shrub, roots and all, so suddenly that Proserpina nearly fell. A deep hole had been left in the soil where the plant had grown. As Proserpina looked at this hole, it grew wider and wider and deeper and deeper. In a few moments it had grown so deep that the bottom seemed to be entirely gone.
Suddenly a tall man arose from the black depths. He wore a helmet and carried a shield. As soon as he saw the frightened maiden, he made a sign to her to come nearer.
"Do not be afraid," he said. "I shall do you no harm. I have come to take you to my palace. You may live there as long as you please."
Proserpina was so frightened that she wanted to run away. But she was not able to move.
"No, no," she cried. "I don't want to go to your palace. I want to go to my mother."
The stranger leaped swiftly to where she stood. He caught her in his arms. In a moment he had jumped with her into the deep and almost bottomless opening. There, far down, stood a golden chariot, drawn by six coal-black horses. Into this chariot the stranger stepped, carrying the frightened girl. He laid her gently on the floor of the car and took the reins in his hands. They were off at once at a furious pace. In a minute they had left the meadows and the brook far behind them. Then the opening slowly closed. Nowhere was there left the least mark or sign to tell what had happened.
Oral Exercise. 1. What did you like best in this story? Do you like the ending? How do you wish it had ended?