“Let me go!” she cried half in earnest and half laughing, raising her dark eyes appealingly to him.

“Why should I?” he answered.  “I took you from the rose-bush and shall hold you fast until you give me your sister there, the other rose, from your bosom, to take home with me as a keepsake.”

“Please let me go,” repeated Sappho, “I will promise nothing unless you let my hand go.”

“But if I do, you will not run away again?”

“Certainly not.”

“Well, then, I will give you your liberty, but now you must give me your rose.”

“There are plenty on the bush yonder, and more beautiful ones; choose whichever you like.  Why do you want just this one?”

“To keep it carefully in remembrance of the most beautiful maiden I ever saw.”

“Then I shall certainly not give it to you; for those are not my real friends who tell me I am beautiful, only those who tell me I am good.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“From my grandmother Rhodopis.”

“Very well, then I will tell you you are better than any other maiden in the whole world.”

“How can you say such things, when you don’t know me at all?  Oh, sometimes I am very naughty and disobedient.  If I were really good I should be indoors now instead of talking to you here.  My grandmother has forbidden me ever to stay in the garden when visitors are here, and indeed I don’t care for all those strange men who always talk about things I cannot understand.”

“Then perhaps you would like me to go away too?”

“Oh no, I can understand you quite well; though you cannot speak half so beautifully as our poor Phanes for example, who was obliged to escape so miserably yesterday evening, as I heard Melitta saying just this minute.”

“Did you love Phanes?”

“Love him?  Oh yes,—­I was very fond of him.  When I was little he always brought me balls, dolls ninepins from Memphis and Sais; and now that I am older he teaches me beautiful new songs.”

     [Jointed dolls for children.  Wilkinson II. 427.  Note 149.  In the
     Leyden Museum one of these jointed toys is to be seen, in very good
     preservation.]

“As a parting gift he brought me a tiny Sicilian lapdog, which I am going to call Argos, because he is so white and swiftfooted.  But in a few days we are to have another present from the good Phanes, for . . .  There, now you can see what I am; I was just going to let out a great secret.  My grandmother has strictly forbidden me to tell any one what dear little visitors we are expecting; but I feel as if I had known you a long time already, and you have such kind eyes that I could tell you everything.  You see, when I am very happy, I have no one in the whole world to talk to about it, except old Melitta and my grandmother, and, I don’t know how it is, that, though they love me so much, they sometimes cannot understand how trifles can make me so happy.”