le hippopotamus! Now, show me what you
have got."

He hastily took the packet from the hand of the youngster, who looked
quite disconcerted, weighed it in his hand and said, turning to Publius:

"There is something tolerably heavy in this--what can it contain?"

"I am quite inexperienced in such matters," replied the Roman.

"And I much experienced," answered Lysias. "It might be, wait-it might be
the clasp of her girdle in here. Feel, it is certainly something hard."

Publius carefully felt the packet that the Corinthian held out to him,
with his fingers, and then said with a smile:

"I can guess what you have there, and if I am right I shall be much
pleased. Irene, I believe, has returned you the gold bracelet on a little
wooden tablet."

"Nonsense!" answered Lysias. "The ornament was prettily wrought and of
some value, and every girl is fond of ornaments."

"Your Corinthian friends are, at any rate. But look what the wrapper
contains."

"Do you open it," said the Corinthian.

Publius first untied a thread, then unfolded a small piece of white
linen, and came at last to an object wrapped in a bit of flimsy, cheap
papyrus. When this last envelope was removed, the bracelet was in fact
discovered, and under it lay a small wax tablet.

Lysias was by no means pleased with this discovery, and looked
disconcerted and annoyed at the return of his gift; but he soon mastered
his vexation, and said turning to his friend, who was not in the least
maliciously triumphant, but who stood looking thoughtfully at the ground.

"Here is something on the little tablet--the sauce no doubt to the
peppered dish she has set before me."

"Still, eat it," interrupted Publius. "It may do you good for the
future."

Lysias took the tablet in his hand, and after considering it carefully on
both sides he said:

"It belongs to the sculptor, for there is his name. And there--why she
has actually spiced the sauce or, if you like it better the bitter dose,
with verses. They are written more clearly than beautifully, still they
are of the learned sort."

"Well?" asked the Roman with curiosity, as Lysias read the lines to
himself; the Greek did not look up from the writing but sighed softly,
and rubbing the side of his finely-cut nose with his finger he replied:

"Very pretty, indeed, for any one to whom they are not directly
addressed. Would you like to hear the distich?"

"Read it to me, I beg of you."

"Well then," said the Cori