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Metanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped and kissed the lips of the sick child. Instantly the paleness left his face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. The whole family were delighted that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for they were all; they had no servants. They spread the table, and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb.
At least, she would watch; and quietly she stole to the door which separated her own apartment from that which had been given to Ceres. The stranger sat before the hearth, with the crowing, happy baby on her knee. Gently she drew off his clothing, gently she anointed him with some liquid, the delicious perfume of which reached Metanira.
So Queen Metanira ran to the door, with the poor wailing baby in her arms, and besought Ceres to take charge of it, or, at least, to tell her what would do it good. "Will you trust the child entirely to me?" asked Ceres. "Yes, and gladly, too," answered the queen, "if you will devote all your time to him. For I can see that you have been a mother." "You are right," said Ceres.
So Queen Metanira ran to the door, with the poor wailing baby in her arms, and besought Ceres to take charge of it, or, at least, to tell her what would do it good. "Will you trust the child entirely to me?" asked Ceres. "Yes, and gladly, too," answered the queen, "if you will devote all your time to him. For I can see that you have been a mother." "You are right," said Ceres.
Ascending a lofty flight of steps, she entered the portal, and found the royal household in very great alarm about the queen's baby. The queen her name was Metanira was desirous of finding a nurse; and when she beheld a woman of matronly aspect coming up the palace steps, she thought, in her own mind that here was the very person whom she needed.
Then, murmuring some sounding, rhythmic words, she leaned forward and placed him on the glowing coals. Shrieking, Metanira rushed into the room and caught up her baby, burning herself badly in the act; and furiously she turned to the aged nurse.
So Queen Metanira ran to the door, with the poor wailing baby in her arms, and besought Ceres to take charge of it, or, at least, to tell her what would do it good." "Will you trust the child entirely to me?" asked Ceres. "Yes, and gladly too," answered the queen, "if you will devote all your time to him. For I can see that you have been a mother." "You are right," said Ceres.
Saying these words, she kissed the little Prince Demophoon, and sighed to think what he had lost, and took her departure without heeding Queen Metanira, who entreated her to remain, and cover up the child among the hot embers as often as she pleased. Poor baby! He never slept so warmly again.
Metanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped and kissed the lips of the sick child. Instantly the paleness left his face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. The whole family were delighted that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for they were all; they had no servants. They spread the table, and put upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb.
Harsh critics, like disguised Ceres, plunged the young author into the flames; and fortunately for her, as no short-sighted, loving Metanira snatched her from the fiery ordeal, she ultimately obtained the boon of immortality. Her regular contributions to the magazine enhanced her reputation, and broadened the sphere of her influence.
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