A final description on the great Greek myth. Classically written in short digestible story form for kids to read and learn.
“Is not that a very fine story?” asked Eustace.
“O yes, yes!” cried Cowslip, clapping her hands. “And those funny old women, with only one eye amongst them! I never heard of anything so strange.”
“As to their one tooth, which they shifted about,” observed Primrose, “there was nothing so very wonderful in that. I suppose it was a false tooth. But think of your turning Mercury into Quicksilver, and talking about his sister! You are too ridiculous!”
“And was she not his sister?” asked Eustace Bright. “If I had thought of it sooner, I would have described her as a maiden lady, who kept a pet owl!”
“Well, at any rate,” said Primrose, “your story seems to have driven away the mist.”
And, indeed, while the tale was going forward, the vapors had been quite exhaled from the landscape. A scene was now disclosed which the spectators might almost fancy as having been created since they had last looked in the direction where it lay. About half a mile distant, in the lap of the valley, now appeared a beautiful lake, which reflected a perfect image of its own wooded banks, and of the summits of the more distant hills. It gleamed in glassy tranquility, without the trace of a winged breeze on any part of its bosom. Beyond its farther shore was Monument Mountain, in a recumbent position, stretching almost across the valley. Eustace Bright compared it to a huge, headless sphinx, wrapped in a Persian shawl; and, indeed, so rich and diversified was the autumnal foliage of its woods, that the simile of the shawl was by no means too high-colored for the reality. In the lower ground, between Tanglewood and the lake, the clumps of trees and borders of woodland were chiefly golden-leaved or dusky brown, as having suffered more from frost than the foliage on the hillsides.
Over all this scene there was a genial sunshine, intermingled with a slight haze, which made it unspeakably soft and tender. O, what a day of Indian summer was it going to be! The children snatched their baskets, and set forth, with hop, skip, and jump, and all sorts of frisks and gambols; while Cousin Eustace proved his fitness to preside over the party, by outdoing all their antics, and performing several new capers, which none of them could ever hope to imitate. Behind went a good old dog, whose name was Ben. He was one of the most respectable and kind-hearted of quadrupeds, and probably felt it to be his duty not to trust the children away from their parents without some better guardian than this feather-brained Eustace Bright.