THE WINGED HORSE OF THE MUSES 55 



people were so busy with other things that they 

 forgot the difference between poetry and dog- 

 gerel, and nobody cared to drink from Hippo- 

 crene. And so the fountain was allowed to be- 

 come choked with the stones and dirt that rolled 

 down from the mountain; and soon wild grass 

 and tall reeds hid the spot from view, and nobody 

 from that day to this has been able to point out 

 just where it is. 



II. THE YOUNG TRAVELER 



But the horse? 



We left him poised high in the air, with his 

 head turned toward the sea and the distant land 

 of Lycia. I do not know how long it took him 

 to fly across, nor does it matter ; but one day, full 

 of vigor and strength, and beautiful as a poet's 

 dream, he alighted on the great road that runs 

 eastward a little way from the capital city of 

 Lycia. So softly had he descended, and so quietly 

 had he folded his great wings and set his feet 

 upon the ground, that a young man who was 

 walking thoughtfully along the way did not know 

 of his presence until he had cantered up quite 

 close to him. 



