started his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!"

Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in a
pleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory.

"Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a
wolf. But first our thanks to the gods."

A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering
it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the
blue heavens.

"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, the
father, and to all the immortals be thanks."

As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground.
That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master
to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for
Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey,
the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At last
his father said:

"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?"

"No," said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to see
things."

His father laughed and leaped to his feet.

"Just like me, lad. Come on!"

Charmides snatched a handful of figs and rolled out of the tent
squealing with joy. Menon came after him, laughing, and Glaucon followed
to care for them. "The sun is setting," said Menon. "It will soon be
dark, and to-morrow are the games. They will keep us busy when they
begin, so you must use your eyes to-day if you want to see the fair."

He stopped on the hillside and looked down into the sacred place.

"It is wonderful!" he said, half to himself. "The home of glory! I love
every stone of it. I have not been here since I myself won the single
race. And now my son is to win it. That was when you were a baby,
Charmides."

"I know, father," whispered the boy with shining eyes. "I have kissed
your olive wreath, where it hangs above our altar at home."

The father put his hand lovingly on the boy's yellow head.

"By the help of Hermes there soon will be a green one there for you to
kiss, lad. The gods are very good to crown our family twice."

"I wish there were crowns for lame boys to win," said Charmides. "I
would win one!"

He said that fiercely and clenched his fist. His father looked kindly
into his eyes and spoke solemnly.

"I think you would, my son. Perhaps there are such crowns."

They started on thoughtfully and soon were among the crowd. There were