Susy was delighted with this, and her vivid fancy took wings at once, and flew away to the other end of the world, where her aunt Madge told her the fountain of Pirene was said to gush out of a hill-side.
"Only think," said she to Flossy; "it was a woman once, that fountain was; but she poured her life all out into tears, crying because her son was killed. So the fountain is made of tears!"
"Bitter and salt, then," said Florence, threading her needle.
"No, indeed; just as sweet and nice as any water. Pegasus loved it; and there was a beautiful young man, his name was Bel—Bel—well, I declare, I've forgotten,—no, 'twas Bellerophon; and he had a bridle, and wanted a horse. O, do you know this horse was white, with silvery wings, wild as a hawk; and, once in a while, he would fold up his wings, and trot round on the mountain!"
Florence yawned, and waxed her thread.
"O, it was a splendid bridle, this man had, made of gold; and I forgot—the mountain the horse trotted round on was called Helicon. And the man mounted him, and went up, up, till they were nothing but specks in the sky."
"A likely story," said Florence; "there, you've told enough! I don't want to hear any more such nonsense."
"Well, if you don't want to hear about the monster they killed, you needn't; that's all I can say; but the young man loved that horse; and he kissed him, too, he was so splendid!"
"Kiss a horse!" Flossy looked very, much disgusted.
"Why, I've kissed my pony a great many times," said Susy, bravely, "right between his eyes; and he almost kisses me. He wants to say, 'I love you.' I can see it in his eyes."