The old scholastics were prodigies in their way— that is, if we may credit the proverbial veraciousness of an epitaph. Here is one on Alfonso Tostat,

in his eyes; and then, without a forewarning, plant

JOSEPH JENKINS'S RESEARCHES INTO ANTIQUITY.ed his nose to the sand, and, kicking up desperately,

ERISICTHON.

made the long old gentleman a present of poor Metra. The long old gentleman picked her from the water into which she had been soused, and after an

Ovid gives an entirely incorrect account of Eri-ogle from a pair of distinguished green eyes, repla

sicthon and his daughter Metra; and as I happen to be better acquainted with their singular story, I am able to put an end to the currency of that fabling poet's counterfeit narrative.

Erisicthon was a country gentleman, and lived a mile or two from the foot of Mount Olympus. He was a man of importance in his neighborhood, and supposed to be very comfortable in his circumstances. He had been chosen as soon as eligible, to represent the Olympic district in the Thessalian Senate, and was for a long time, a Justice of the Peace, and, by virtue of his office, Judge of the county court of Olympus. He spent his winters in Thebes, and when his daughter was grown a great girl, she turned out in that metropolis, and became very much pursued and courted. Metra was, to be sure, an interesting and lovely young person; but I have no leisure just now to be particular in the description of her charms.

a

ced her quietly on shore. Metra was in wretched
case. Her hair hung as lank as her riding skirt, and
driblet of sea-water ran along her nose until it made
a little cataract from the end of it. The old gen-
tleman laughed; Metra added the brine of her
tears to the brine of the sea-water.
tleman softened.

The old-gen

"My dear," he said, "I am Neptune. You seem to be very uncomfortable in your wet clothes. Glauconome, and Clymene, who are talking under us here, shall bring you some dry ones. You must be drenched quite to your skin.”

"O Neptune!" said Metra, "give me vengear.ce upon Dapple."

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My child," replied the good-natured god, "pull a leaf of the sheep-sorrel you see growing there behind you, and chew it."

Metra plucked the sheep-sorrel, and bruised it between her white teeth. She had scarcely done so when she leaned forward, bending her pretty bust, and seemed feeling for the earth with her fine hands. A rapid change took place in her shape; her hair parted by the back of her neck and falling along her cheeks, in a few moments shortened into the silken ears of a spaniel. Her human nose, so recently coursed by tears and sea-water, grew in length, and, slim and delicate, projected over a canine muzzle. Something mysterious agitated the lingering skirt of her riding habit; and presently, flirting loose from it, curled a jaunty canine tail. With a cry of distress and astonishment, which became in spite of her teeth a musical bark, she gave a bound, cleared her skirts effectually, and ran about a spotted spaniel. It was clear to Neptune, from some of the dog's gestures, and tones, that it made entreaty to him. The pretty creature crouched on the margin of the sea, put its slim nose between its paws and whined movingly.

One evening Metra left her father's house near Mount Olympus, and rode down to the sea-side to enjoy the pleasant gean airs. She rode a donkey with ears of the slimmest and most charming shape, and quite a yard and six inches in length. The waves were rolling like carded wool upon a beach of blue sand, and two arms of green forestland, reaching into the sea, made a cove within the semi-circle of their embrace. As Metra came upon some inconsiderable hills near this cove, a singular murmur, as indistinct as the sigh of the waters, but nevertheless sounding like the conversation of ladies after champagne, only muffled and deadened in some strange way, made her give her little pearly ears, in imitation of the long ones of her dappled donkey, a sea-ward inclination. Imagine her amazement when presently, seeking with eyes and ears an explanation of the sounds, she beheld an elderly gentleman about eighty feet long, dressed in a sea-green sack, pantaloons of an ex- "My dear," said Neptune," you seem to be distraordinarily indeterminate colour, a shirt with a tressed. You have no reason in the world to be milk-white ruffle at least twenty-five feet in length, alarmed. You can amuse yourself by snapping at and an unexceptionable summer cravat of sea-grass Dapple's heels, and punish the rogue to your heart's linen, lying comfortably along the waves of the content. When you want to regain your former cove, and as naturally as if upon a sofa. He was shape, you have only to chew a rose. Doubtless smoking a cigar, about the size of the chimney of your papa has an abundance of them in his garden. a steamboat. Metra had seen this cigar first, and If you find it agreeable, or convenient, to change taken for granted that the steam packet from Les- your form at any time hereafter, eat of the sorrel, and bos was coming in. It was only on looking lower you will take any shape you have previously wished. to discover the hull, that the elderly gentleman, col- The rose will always make you a woman again." oured very much like the waters, and yielding,to their comfortable undulations, grew defined to her sight. Metra, of course, was very much astonished, but not more so than her donkey. The wretch Dapple stood a moment-with the very fire of alarm

VOL. XIV-91

Metra barked her thanks, and forgetting to take vengeance on Dapple, ran homeward to find the rose. A great many surly dogs, with tails making awful curls over their bristling backs, attempted to arrest her course with inquisitive courtesy, as she

came by the property honestly. He bought it from the sheriff, for arrears of taxes. You had your equity of redemption, but did not redeem in time, and cannot now. I have a right to cut down my own trees."

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went. But at last she dashed into her own fair "My father, Madam, was not an old rascal, and garden, and, dodging a blow from the spade of the gardener, which broke seven lights of a hot bed, plunged into the midst of a microfella. This beautiful rose had been procured at extraordinary cost from Mr. Prince, a Floriculturist of the Peloponessus, and the dragon of a gardener trembled with indignation as the spaniel, snapping several of the blooms off, broke through its prickly stems, and ran behind a hedge of Persian lilacs. He pursued like the genius of wrath. He made a circuit of the hedge, and lo! his young mistress, screaming, and skulking, and diving into the screen of green leaves, human again, but in a sad predicament! That was a great mistake, Metra. You should have taken care to be within reach of your wardrobe, before resuming your natural shape. But her female servants have wrapped her in a counterpane, worked in humming-bird patterns, and the adventure has terminated as well as could be expected."

The day after all this happened, Erisicthon walked out to see after the concerns of his farm. He was in an exceedingly bad humor. Wheat had fallen a sixpence, by the latest price-current, and his miller having made an over advance on the last crop, refused under the circumstances to let him have money enough to meet the summer expenses of a trip over the Ægean, to a watering-place on the Scamander. As he walked on, condemning the miller, and low prices, and perhaps his own eyes, he saw just before him a grove, reputed to be one of the favorite residences of Ceres. He had, of course, often seen the grove before, for it was on a corner of his own farm. But now it occurred to him that the timber of the grove would sell for as much money as he wanted: "besides," said he, "I shall get a famous crop of potatoes, and small grain from the ground, after clearing it." And, so, he set his men to work upon the groaning trees of the sacred wood, and crash after crash, they fell down before the axe.

"Stupid ass!" said Ceres, " you have no idea of any tree but a cornstalk. I am the mistress of the full horn, but I abhor one of your water-blooded utilitarians. You were a beast to destroy that grove, allowing your title to it to be good. But the property, I say, was mine, and I punish you with the curse of everlasting hunger for cutting down my trees."

Ceres turned angrily away, and, smiting about her with the pitchfork, put her oxen into a gallop, and disappeared in a cloud of dust towards the divine mountain.

Erisicthon reined his horse to a stand-still. He had begun to have a twinge at the stomach, with the close of the Goddess' speech, and now he felt the positive gnawings of hunger.

"Metra put away a cold leg of lamb," he presently said; "and I think I shall return and take a few slices of it with oil and celery.”

And, so saying, he turned and rode homeward. In five minutes he reached the house, and, in five more, become too wild with hunger for the pleasant trifling of the salad, held the leg of lamb in his hands and devoured it, by pounds, from the bone.

Ovid, whom I, Joseph Jenkins, am undertaking, with that true modesty of genius for which I am remarkable, to correct in his history of Erisicthon, gives a true account of what occurred immediately after this voracious beginning with the leg of lamb. Erisicthon in a short time, devoured his flocks, consumed his bacon, desolated his poultry-yard; and then, having done all this, converted his farm into food, and ate himself out of house and home.

"My daughter," said a thin-visaged old man, to a beautiful girl who walked at his side, on a dusty One evening, soon after the destruction of the highway, "you told me that Neptune had bestowgrove, Erisicthon was riding along a road which ed a rare power upon you. I have a project in my led in the direction of Mount Olympus. He saw, head. We are approaching a great city. I enat a little distance before him, a cart drawn by two treat of you to take the shape of some valuable brindled oxen, and driven by a hearty thick-waisted animal, whilst we are yet alone on the way. I will country woman. The woman rode the near ox, and lead you in your new shape to the rich dealers of held a pitchfork in her right hand and over her right the city, and sell you for money. I can imagine shoulder. In her left hand she held an apple, of no better way of raising the wind. You can change which she ate as she rode. Erisicthon rode up, forms again, and join me, and all will be well. An and was passing on, when this country woman call-ox is a valuable animal. Become an ox and I will ed out to him to stop. Erisicthon," she said, mas- wind a halter of grass and lead you to the market." ticating her apple, "I am Ceres. I understand that "Father," replied the maiden, "if I become an you have cut down my grove." ox, the citizens may give me no chance of finding "Madam," said Erisicthon, "I was under the a rose, but presently eat me." impression that the grove was mine."

"You are a scurvy fellow," said the Goddess, becoming very angry. The grove belonged to me, before the old rascal, Triops, your father, set his foot upon it."

"I forgot that, my dear," said the hungry old gentleman; "we must think of something else."

Just then a falcon, milk-white and of extraordinary size, flew very near their heads, and hovered within reach of Erisicthon's staff, screaming as if

seemed to observe something in the eyes so fixed upon him, and presently extended his hand saying"a beautiful bird, kinsman." And he would have caressed the glossy white mails of the falcon. But Metra lifted her wide wings, and leaving her master, perched on the extended hand.

glad of the meeting with human beings. Erisic- | face and scarcely withdrew them to eat languidly thon designed the bird's death, and, suddenly sway- of the food which her master offered to her jetty ing his staff, struck her upon the wing and brought beak. The young person, so honored by her stare, her down. A fox does not pluck and devour a goose more swiftly than the hungry man plucked and devoured the falcon. The wind dispersed the white feathers, and father and daughter moved on. They had gone but a little distance when a horseman came on the way to meet them. He was dressed in close fitting leathern breeches, and a green coat with brass buttons. He rode, at a fast rack, on a pony with the front of a little giraffe. "My good man," said the horseman, "have you seen a white hawk as you came on your road?"

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Nay," answered Erisicthon. "I heard the flutter of birds, in a wood, many miles away. The falcon may have been warring upon them. But I know not the truth, and cannot answer you to your satisfaction."

"There is positively something human in the eyes of the bird," said Menon.

"Ah you gadabout?" said the ruby-nosed host. "You refuse my polite attentions. I am tempted to wring your neck."

Metra put her head close to the cheek of Menon. Her soft breathing affected him strangely. He positively felt himself enamored of a white falcon. 66 Gentlemen," said the host, after the wine had gone round many times, "this is the first of Sep"A great man has lost his hawk," said the horse-tember. Thirty days hath September-April, June man. He offers an immense reward for her. I and November. We are getting on rapidly to the must get on to the wood."

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As the stranger rode away, Erisicthon and Metra conversed for a time, and then passed away into a thicket near at hand. It was not long before Erisicthon came forth to the road, and renewed his journey with a white falcon on his arm. He spoke to the bird, as he went on, as if he found a companion in it.

lawful hunting season. In thirty days we shall have a little amusement. I propose that on the first day of October we go down to my countryseat and fly our hawks. My steward writes me word that blue-wings are making their appearance, and that partridges are plenty."

"We will go with all the pleasure in the world," said the party; and then poured out a great many bumpers, and drank to the issue of the sporting enterprise.

"My dear," he said, "this sheep-sorrel is a plant of wonderful virtues. I think the great man will not find a feather unlike in our counterfeit. I will On the first day of October, about noon, a white claim the reward, and live in pleasant abundance falcon sailed over a wood, in a pleasant country of again." farm-houses, forests, and cultivated fields. "MeAnd Metra, metamorphosed into a falcon, smooth - | tra-Metra !" shouted some one from the wood; ed her neck against the cheek of her father, and and the bird descended rapidly, with the motion of looked affectionately into his eyes. a kite dropping upon a thrush in a tree-top, and was then hidden by the boughs.

"I have brought the white falcon and claim the reward," said Erisicthon, standing at the door of a "Bless my soul, daughter," said the person who marble-fronted house in the city. The rich man had shouted; " I had almost given you out. I have hurried out from a banquet which he was holding, brought a good horse, which I found by a stream, the wine red and generous on his lips. He was where the rider was dismounted and asleep; and I very happy to find the bird, beautiful in her glossy have, besides, taken care to bring a rose, and some mail, staring him in the face. Erisicthon received very nice clothes for you. We had better lose no a check on a banking-house, and the front door | time." flew to in his face.

And the great man's friends at once congratulated him with all their stomachs. There was one

|

"My dear father," said Metra, "how do you do?" Hungry," answered Erisicthon.

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In a short time Erisicthon, who had gone a little way into the wood, that Metra might resume her natural shape and dress, mounted a fleet horse, drew his daughter up behind him and rode off at a dashing gallop.

"And how did you manage to get away from the great man ?" said Erisicthon.

"I saw you," Metra answered, "by the way-side; young gentleman of the party who went through and soon after, when my master threw me off at a the ceremony with less ardor than the others. His blue drake I canceliered and then came off to seek name was Menon, and he was of so distinguished you. But how did it happen that you came prea beauty that Metra fixed her bright eyes, a little pared with the rose and the dress, which really fits moist with the distress of her singular lot, upon his' me quite nicely?"

"I heard of the hawking party and, before fol-white-oaks, a little way from the village. An hour lowing it, provided both, so that if we met, as I before the setting of the sun, he put his foot into hoped we should, you might, at once, resume your the stirrup, and threw himself gallantly upon his shape. I wanted to see you very much. Besides, newly purchased hunter. At the very outset, sanI have eaten up the great man's reward."

guineous with several tumblers of punch, he applied

And, so conversing, father and daughter rode on his spurs. He felt the glossy and tender flank through, and out of the wood, at a swift pace.

That evening Erisicthon sold the horse which he had taken from the person asleep by the stream. Two days after, he had eaten up the price. Father and daughter were again on foot, toiling through the dust of a highway.

"Metra," said Erisicthon, "it is quite impossible that I can endure this singular gnawing at the stomach. I am sometimes disposed to believe that Ceres has put a tiger into me. If I am not eternally throwing food to him, he begins to munch at his cage. Unless I devour I shall be devoured." "I am ready, my dear father," said Metra, "to assume any form you choose and to take a master that you may not want food."

"The horse fed me two days," said Erisicthon, "I am so hungry that I have no imagination. Take that shape now, and hereafter we may imagine some other forms. I see a clump of sheep-sorrel. I declare to you, my daughter, that my hunger is excessive."

As he ended Erisicthon plucked some leaves of the sheep-sorrel. Metra looked towards Olympus, the blue top of which was just visible in the distance, shining with the golden gleam which the presence of the gods bestowed upon it, and said: Mighty Ceres! if it be thy will that Erisicthon shall continue to wander, overcome by canine hunger, I bow myself, and will devote my life, and all that is seemly in maidenhood, to lighten thy curse to him. But, mighty mother of the teeming soils! be merciful. Forgive this old man.”

No answer came from Olympus, and Metra, taking the sorrel leaves, chewed them resolutely, but at the same time, with tears of distress in her large and expressive eyes. In a short time Erisicthon continued his journey, leading a beautiful horse by a rope of grass. He came to a village. A fat landlord stood in the door-way of his inn.

shrink and quiver under his heel. Metra moved swiftly, but with a saddened heart, under her burthen; the cruelty of the spur augured badly of the new lot to which filial piety had devoted her. But Menon, finding how noble and swift the animal, on which he sate, was, instead of urging, used restraint and caresses. Metra felt his hand upon her neck, lifting her mane, and smoothing the proud curve beneath it. She replied by a grateful neigh, which must yet have been an affirmative, for she increased the speed and ease of her gaits. And so horseman and horse came to the old house in the grove of oaks. Menon left Metra at the rack and went in to pay his respects to his mother-a very distinguished old lady, with the kindest heart in the world, and perfectly devoted to her son. Presently he returned and walked by Metra's side to the stables. He saw her put into a comfortable stall, with a good supper of oats, in a clean trough, and a rack full of sweet hay, newly mown from his meadows. He patted her yielding sides, left her for the night and locked the stable door.

It was about midnight. Metra, in her horse-shape and with horse-appetites, had been chewing the sweet hay in the rack. Her eyes were half closed; in fact she was dozing. What makes her start so suddenly from her half somnolence? She has eaten a rose which, blooming on the meadow, has been cut down with the grass. That start was Metra's last equine performance. Her mane became presently the lovely dark hair natural to the maiden— growing until it hung almost to the ground. Her white shoulders, plump and round, gleamed out from its parted darkness; her curved body gave undulations to it. Only the face and the arms, lifted to the brow in confusion, and parts of the pure lower limbs were clearly discernible; so long and dense was the screen of her magnificent hair. What shall she do? The stable is locked. She cannot escape. Where shall she find a leaf of sheep-sorrel? She rummaged the rack, feeling and

"My good fellow," quoth he, "you have an uncommonly fine horse. One of my customers lost his hunter a day or two ago, and will buy yours-then putting to her lips everything that seemed, in no doubt. Wait a little until his dinner is over."

"I will sell the horse," said Erisicthon, in a paroxysm at the mention of dinner.

the dark, at all like the plant. It was to no purpose. In her despair-for in a few hours Menon would come again to the stable-she went to work, The gentleman came out. It was the young with flying fingers, to make a garment out of the Menon of the rich man's banquet-the same, more-long grasses of the mow. It occurs to me that I over, from whom, whilst sleeping by the stream, have, somewhere, seen it remarked that perseverErisicthon had taken the fleet hunter. Menon ance overcomes all things. I am not certain. Perbought Metra in the guise of a horse, and Erisic-haps this remark is one of my own powerful origithon again fed abundantly. Metra uttered a neigh nal reflections. Be this as it may, the truth of the of delight, when she found herself the property of observation was exemplified in the instance before the youth, Menon. us. Perseverance enabled Metra to make, in s Menon lived in a fine old house in a grove of short time, a mantle-rude in its texture, and per