The Spartan Twins

by Lucy Fitch Perkins

"You don't suppose Father made a mistake, and wrote a blessing instead of a curse on that amulet?" said Daphne anxiously. They ran back to the house as fast as they could go. Melas was just coming out of the farm-yard with a pruning-hook in his hand.

"Oh, Father," cried Dion, "the crows are roosting all over the scarecrow.
Maybe he wasn't a Spartan scarecrow after all."

"Anyway, he seems to have gone to sleep on the job," added Daphne.

Melas stared at the crows in angry silence. "You children will have to get your clappers then, and just drive the old thieves away," he said at last, "You will have to spend the day in the field watching them. I've got to work in the vineyard. The vines must be pruned."

The Twins had not yet had their breakfast and they were hungry. So they ran to the kitchen, seized some barley-cakes and a little jar of milk, and in a few minutes were back again in the field. They sat down with the wooden clappers beside them, and ate their breakfast in the company of the scarecrow. All day long they watched the grain and rattled their clappers, or threw clods at the black marauders. It was lively work, and although they did not like it, they remembered the black ewe and stuck faithfully at it all through the long day.

When the sun was high overhead, Lydia brought them some figs and cheese and a drink of goat's milk. She also brought a message. This was the message. "Father says you are to stay here until after dark. You are to hunt around until you find a toad, and when you find it, you must be sure not to let it get away from you. He is going to put a magic spell on the field to keep the crows away, but the spell will not work except in the dark. So you must stay here until he comes."

Between keeping off the birds and hunting for the toad, the Twins spent a busy afternoon. And after the toad was found it was no joke to try to keep it. It was a wonderful hopper and nearly got away twice. At dusk the crows flew away to their nests, and the children were alone in the field until the twilight deepened into darkness. Owls had begun to hoot and bats were flying about, when at last they saw three dim, shadowy figures coming across the field.

The shadowy figures were Melas, Lydia, and Chloe. Lydia bore a jar, which she placed beside the scarecrow in the middle of the field. Melas took the toad in his hand, formed the others in line, and then solemnly headed the procession as the five walked slowly round the entire field, carrying the toad. When they got back to the scarecrow again, Melas put the toad in the jar and sealed it. Then he buried the jar in the middle of the field, beside the scarecrow.

"There," said Lydia, when it was done, "that's the very strongest spell there is. If that doesn't protect the corn, I don't know another thing to do."

Whether it was the scarecrow, or the curse, or the spell, I cannot say, but it is certain that the corn grew well that summer, and when harvest time came, Melas was so proud of his crop that he decided to have an extra celebration. So one day in late summer every one on the entire farm rose with the dawn and hastened to the fields. It was the twelfth day of the month, which was counted a lucky day for harvesting, and every one was gay, as, with sickles in hand, slaves and master alike entered the field of ripe grain. Melas and two other men led the way, cutting the stalks and leaving them on the ground to be gathered into sheaves and stacked by others who followed after.