question between them was what to do with the Strangers.

"They are plainly of no use in Bistonia," said Diomed, "and our people demand that they shall be put out of the way. It will cost something to dispose of them; but then many of them are quite wealthy, and all their goods must become mine, to pay me for the trouble they have given me. The only question is, What shall we do with them?"

"If you will allow me," said the Prime Minister, "I will tell you what I once heard read from a book. It seems that in the reign of the great King Busiris a host of these same profitless Strangers invaded Egypt, and were robbing the poor Egyptians, just as these men are now taking away the substance of the Bistonians. King Busiris disposed of them in such a way as to kill two birds, nay, three, with the same stone. He sent forth a decree that they should be sacrificed to the bulls and cats that are the gods of the shrewd Egyptians, and by so doing he gained great renown among his people, he provided food for his favorite animals, and he filled his treasury with the spoils. Do you see?"

"Capital!" cried Diomed. "And the decree which I send forth is this: That every Stranger

9

found, after this day and hour, within the borders of Bistonia shall be sacrificed to my wild mares Dinos and Lampon."

Of all the Strangers in Bistonia only one escaped. Secreting himself on a ship that was just ready to sail, he was carried safely beyond the reach of Diomed, and was finally landed in his own country. There he reported how all his fellow Strangers had fallen victims to the cruelty of Diomed, and had become food for the fierce maneating mares; and he gave a vivid picture of the manner in which the crafty old tyrant had thrown them, struggling, into the iron mangers or penned them up in the massive stable where the beasts were turned loose upon them. Of course the whole world was stirred with indignation, and a good many plans were talked of for avenging the luckless Strangers.

It so happened that the great hero Hercules was at that time just in the midst of the tasks which he had undertaken for the purifying of the world from evil. He had slain the Nemean lion and the Lernean hydra; had captured the Ceryneian stag and the Erymanthian boar; had cleansed the Augean stables, frightened the Stymphalian birds, and led the Cretan bull

through the streets of Mycena. He now readily undertook the task of drubbing old Diomed, and of putting his man-eating mares where they would never do any more harm. At the head, therefore, of a little army of heroes, he sailed straight for Bistonia, landed upon the coast, and demanded satisfaction for the manner in which the Strangers had been treated. Of course the Bistonians resisted and a great battle was fought, in which Hercules won the day. Old Diomed was taken prisoner, and there was but one thing to do with him-feed him to his own animals. It was a fitting punishment for one so cruel and merciless.

Hercules, who had already had so much excellent practice in capturing wild beasts, had no trouble in leading the fierce mares from their bloody stable and in carrying them with him to Mycena. There, had he been so minded, he might have become the Barnum of his age and set up the greatest menagerie on earth. But he preferred, after exhibiting the mares for a few days, to turn them loose in the mountain forests of Thessaly. I have heard it said that they were devoured there by wild beasts, but I think it an unlikely story.

PHAETON

BY C. P. CRANCH

EFORE Copernicus and others proved

BEFO

The Sun stood still, and 't was the Earth that moved,

Phoebus Apollo, as all freshmen know,

Was the Sun's coachman. This was long ago.
Across the sky from east to west all day
He drove, but took no passengers or pay.
A splendid team it was; and there was none
But he could drive this chariot of the Sun.
The world was safe so long as in his hand
He held the reins and kept supreme command.

But Phoebus had a wild, conceited son,
A rash and lively youth, named Phaeton,

Who used to watch his father mount his car

And whirl through space like a great shooting-star; And thought what fun 't would be, could he contrive Some day to mount that car and take a drive!

The mischief of it was, Apollo loved

The boy so well that once his heart was moved