the most celebrated epicure from the most
luxurious city in the world, no less a person than Philoinus of Sybaris,
would pass a stern judgment on his delicate dishes. Go, Knakias, tell
them to serve the supper. Are you content now, my impatient guests? As
for me, since I heard Phanes' mournful news, the pleasure of the meal is
gone." The Athenian bowed, and the Sybarite returned to his philosophy.
"Contentment is a good thing when every wish can be satisfied. I owe you
thanks, Rhodopis, for your appreciation of my incomparable native city.
What says Anakreon?

"To-day is ours--what do we fear?
To-day is ours--we have it here.
Let's treat it kindly, that it may
Wish at least with us to stay.
Let's banish business, banish sorrow;
To the gods belongs to-morrow."

"Eh! Ibykus, have I quoted your friend the poet correctly, who feasts
with you at Polykrates' banquets? Well, I think I may venture to say of
my own poor self that if Anakreon can make better verses, I understand
the art of living quite as well as he, though he writes so many poems
upon it. Why, in all his songs there is not one word about the pleasures
of the table! Surely they are as important as love and play! I confess
that the two last are clear to me also; still, I could exist without
them, though in a miserable fashion, but without food, where should we
be?"

The Sybarite broke into a loud laugh at his own joke; but the Spartan
turned away from this conversation, drew Phryxus into a corner, and quite
abandoning his usually quiet and deliberate manner, asked eagerly whether
he had at last brought him the long wished for answer from the Oracle.
The serious features of the Delphian relaxed, and thrusting his hand into
the folds of his chiton,--[An undergarment resembling a shirt.]--he drew
out a little roll of parchment-like sheepskin, on which a few lines were
written.

The hands of the brave, strong Spartan trembled as he seized the roll,
and his fixed gaze on its characters was as if it would pierce the skin
on which they were inscribed.

Then, recollecting himself, he shook his head sadly and said: "We
Spartans have to learn other arts than reading and writing; if thou
canst, read the what Pythia says."

The Delphian glanced over the writing and replied: "Rejoice! Loxias
(Apollo) promises thee a happy return home; hearken to the prediction of
the priestess."

"If once the warrior hos