“I know,” the Kitten insisted. “He could do it.”
“Course he could!” said the Princess; “and because of that. He came of a very fine family—none better. He was a God of the Greeks.”
“A God!” exclaimed Pat. “Do you—mean—to say—that Hercules was a God?”
“I do,” said the Princess; and, “One of those Ancients, you know, Pat,” explained Phyllisy. But Pat paid no attention.
“Well! For pitysakes! Hercules—a God!” she said once more.
And that was all; and nobody will ever know why it surprised her so.
“That’s what he was,” said the Princess, drawing away, very industrious,—“a demi, to begin with, and they made him a whole one. He was highly cultivated and accomplished, besides being so strong. But he had a great deal of trouble, and had to work very hard; and altogether it quite broke him down. It made him always on the lookout for unfortunate signs. Now that he’s a Star Person, he isn’t particularly intellectual, but he is perfectly amiable; and that is a great deal to be thankful for, when you consider how strong he is.” And by that time he was ready for his stars.
Miss Phyllisy suddenly thought of something.
“Oh, Dearie!” she exclaimed. “There’s somebody you never drew.”
“Who is that, Miss Phyllisy?”