"
"That was truly a pity!" said Bellerophon.
And he turned to the child, whom I mentioned at the beginning of the
story, and who was gazing at him, as children are apt to gaze at
strangers, with his rosy mouth wide open.
"Well, my little fellow," cried Bellerophon, playfully pulling one of
his curls, "I suppose you have often seen the winged horse."
"That I have," answered the child, very readily. "I saw him yesterday,
and many times before."
"You are a fine little man!" said Bellerophon, drawing the child closer
to him. "Come, tell me all about it."
"Why," replied the child, "I often come here to sail little boats in the
fountain, and to gather pretty pebbles out of its basin. And sometimes,
when I look down into the water, I see the image of the winged horse in
the picture of the sky that is there. I wish he would come down, and
take me on his back, and let me ride him up to the moon! But, if I so
much as stir to look at him, he flies far away out of sight."
And Bellerophon put his faith in the child, who had seen the image of
Pegasus in the water, and in the maiden, who had heard him neigh so
melodiously, rather than in the middle-aged clown, who believed only in
cart horses, or in the old man who had forgotten the beautiful things of
his youth.
Therefore, he haunted about the Fountain of Pirene for a great many days
afterward.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100