ll for her
mother.

"Mother, Mother Ceres!" cried she, all in a tremble. "Come quickly and
save me."

But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear. Indeed, it is most
probable that Ceres was then a thousand miles off, making the corn
grow in some far distant country. Nor could it have availed her poor
daughter, even had she been within hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina
begin to cry out, than the stranger leaped to the ground, caught the
child in his arms, and again mounted the chariot, shook the reins, and
shouted to the four black horses to set off. They immediately broke into
so swift a gallop, that it seemed rather like flying through the air
than running along the earth. In a moment, Proserpina lost sight of the
pleasant vale of Enna, in which she had always dwelt. Another instant,
and even the summit of Mount Aetna had become so blue in the distance,
that she could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that gushed out of
its crater. But still the poor child screamed, and scattered her apron
full of flowers along the way, and left a long cry trailing behind the
chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it came, ran quickly to see if
any mischief had befallen their children. But Mother Ceres was a great
way off, and could not hear the cry.

As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.

"Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?" said he, trying to
soften his rough voice. "I promise not to do you any harm. What! you
have been gathering flowers? Wait till we come to my palace, and I
will give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all made of
pearls, and diamonds, and rubies. Can you guess who I am? They call my
name Pluto; and I am the king of diamonds and all other precious stones.
Every atom of the gold and silver that lies under the earth belongs to
me, to say nothing of the copper and iron, and of the coal mines, which
supply me with abundance of fuel. Do you see this splendid crown upon my
head? You may have it for a plaything. O, we shall be very good friends,
and you will find me more agreeable than you expect, when once we get
out of this troublesome sunshine."

"Let me go home!" cried Proserpina. "Let me go home!"

"My home is better than your mother's," answered King Pluto. "It is a
palace, all made of gold, with crystal windows; and because there is
little or no sunshine thereabouts, the apartments are illuminated with
diamond lamps. You never saw anything ha