me more agreeable than you expect, when once
we get out of this troublesome sunshine."
"Let me go home!" cried Proserpina. "Let
me go home!"
"My home is better than your mother's," an-
swered King Pluto. "It is a palace, all made
of gold, with crystal windows; and because
there is little or no sunshine thereabouts, the
apartments are illuminated with diamond lamps.
You never saw any thing half so magnificent
as my throne. If you like, you may sit down on
it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the
footstool."
"I don't care for golden palaces and thrones,"
sobbed Proserpina. "O my mother, my mother!
Carry me back to my mother!"
But King Pluto, as he called himself, only
shouted to his steeds to go faster.
"Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina," said he,
in rather a sullen tone. "I offer you my palace
and my crown, and all the riches that are under
the earth; and you treat me as if I were doing
you an injury. The one thing which my palace
needs is a merry little maid, to run up stairs
and down, and cheer up the rooms with her
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