traveling was secure.  No doubt Theseus crowned his labors by building a road, as we know one existed here in antiquity, but it has long since disappeared, and King Otho was then imitating him, as we found, presently, to our cost.  The sun had already set, when the road became impassable, and shouts from two men some distance above, informed us that the building of the new road had rendered the old bridle-path impracticable.  We had to urge our horses down a steep, narrow path to the water’s edge, then as the beach was blocked up with huge rocks, to ride a rod or two through the water, then climb up the steep rocks on the other side, where one horse slipped and came near tumbling with his rider into the sea below.  Ten minutes later, and we must have returned to Kineta, or waited an hour or two for the moon, for as soon as we were over this dangerous spot it became quite dark; but the path was now safe and easy to find.  The full moon was up when we reached the top of the cliff, and the valley of Megara, the mountains, the bay, and the islands of AEgina and Salamis lay distinctly before us.  We made all speed to Megara, cheered by the fame of its khan as one of the best in Greece, and by the certainty that there was now a good road all the way to Athens.

It was suggested that we should take a carriage the rest of the way, but as our horses were hired to Athens, we decided not to incur the extra expense.  Soon after arriving, however, while Dhemetri was making us a soup, and Diomedes was taking care of our horses, and Epaminondas was roasting us a joint of lamb, while we were squatting half-asleep on bolsters on the floor, hugging our knees, looking dreamily at the fire, and longing for supper and bed, the driver of the carriage came in, and addressed us in recommendation of his establishment in his choicest Frank, “Carrozza-very good-ye-e-e-s!’ then squatted down on the hearth beside us, hugged his knees, and looked at the fire with infinite self-satisfaction.  Whether it was his eloquence that prevailed on our attendants, I know not, but it was determined to provide us with a carriage the next day, at no extra expense.  The day was perfect, and the luxury of an easy drive of four hours was very grateful to us after our uncomfortable ride in the Peloponnesus.  We dined at Eleusis, and reached Athens early in the afternoon.

ADONIUM.

Far dimly back in distant days of eld,
There lived a pretty boy, as parchments tell,
As formed for love and life in lonely dell,
With mien as fair as never eyes beheld;
Because who saw, to love him was compelled
Straightway, so wizardly he wielded Beauty’s spell.

His name Adonis—­sad of memory! 
Whose life, though fair, his death was fairer still,
In dying for a cause, or good or ill;
For he heart-crazed the daughter of the sea,
Who loved him well, though wisely loved not she: 
True hearts are never wise, as worldlings selfish will.