uty and wholesomeness of this darling
little prince. Their wonder was the greater, because he was never seen to
taste any food,--not even so much as a cup of milk.

"Pray, nurse," the queen kept saying, "how is it that you make the child
thrive so?"

"I was a mother once," Ceres replied always; "and having nursed my own
child, I know what other children need."

But Queen Metanira, as was very natural, had a great curiosity to know
precisely what the nurse did to her child. One night, therefore, she hid
herself in the chamber where Ceres and the little prince were accustomed
to sleep. There was a fire in the chimney, and it had now crumbled into
great coals and embers, which lay glowing on the hearth, with a blaze
flickering up now and then, and flinging a warm and ruddy light upon the
walls. Ceres sat before the hearth with the child in her lap, and the
firelight making her shadow dance upon the ceiling overhead. She undressed
the little prince, and bathed him all over with some fragrant liquid out
of a vase. The next thing she did was to rake back the red embers, and
make a hollow place among them, just where the backlog had been. At last,
while the baby was crowing and clapping its fat little hands, and laughing
in the nurse's face (just as you may have seen your little brother or
sister do before going into its warm bath), Ceres suddenly laid him, all
naked as he was, in the hollow, among the red-hot embers. She then raked
the ashes over him, and turned quietly away.

You may imagine, if you can, how Queen Metanira shrieked, thinking nothing
less than that her dear child would be burned to a cinder. She burst forth
from her hiding-place, and running to the hearth, raked open the fire, and
snatched up poor little Prince Demophoeon out of his bed of live coals, one
of which he was griping in each of his fists. He immediately set up a
grievous cry, as babies are apt to do when rudely startled out of a sound
sleep. To the queen's astonishment and joy, she could perceive no token of
the child's being injured by the hot fire in which he had lain. She now
turned to Mother Ceres, and asked her to explain the mystery.

"Foolish woman," answered Ceres, "did you not promise to intrust this poor
infant entirely to me? You little know the mischief you have done him. Had
you left him to my care, he would have grown up like a child of celestial
birth, endowed with superhuman strength and intelligence, and would have
lived forev