'THE. GLORY THAT WAS GREECE' 



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all disagreeable under the mild Attic sky. 

 Along this riviera are bays and inlets, each 

 of which makes a special appeal, either 

 in the loveliness of its limpid water, in the 

 combination of hill and sea, or else in the 

 friendly forests, which come down to the 

 very water's edge. 



About half-way to Athens, near Vari, is 

 a cave dedicated to Pan and the Nymphs, 

 which was visited by Pausanias. Be- 

 tween Vari and Athens are many tumuli 

 which popular tradition gives as tombs of 

 early kings. However, an archeologist 

 who has dug in a number of these assures 

 me that this is not the case. 



Within plain view of Athens and 

 crowning a headland is a little chapel dedi- 

 cated to St. Cosmos. It is a favorite pic- 

 nic spot for Athenians. The waters of 

 the Saronic Gulf play about the foot of 

 the headland and there is a little bay near 

 by which beckons to the bather. Usually 

 small fishing craft can be taken from this 

 spot for the voyage home. 



SPOTS STILL SCORNED BY TOURISTS 



From Athens to Corinth is an easy 

 three hours trip by motor ; the road fol- 

 lows the Sacred Way to Eleusis, and 

 from this point the sea is constantly in 

 view. 



It is hard not to grow enthusiastic over 

 the scenery of Greece, and a word must 

 be said here of the unusual beauty of this 

 tract of country. The mountains rise on 

 the right to a height of several thousand 

 feet ; the roadway seems hung against the 

 face of the cliff at many points, rising 

 and falling to take advantage of the 

 changing topography, now within a few 

 yards of the waters of the gulf and again 

 rising far above them. 



The hills are covered with pine forests 

 and low scrub, not of sufficient density to 

 mar the perfection of outline. The sight 

 calls up a phrase referring to Greek art, 

 but applicable to its scenery — "The accu- 

 racy of its beauty." Looking out over the 

 sea, dancing in the sunshine and dotted 

 with small craft, the eye has a sweep of 

 many miles. 



In any country but Greece this section 

 would be filled with hotels and boarding- 

 houses, perhaps a casino, and there would 

 be golf and tennis. 



May Apollo pardon me for making 

 known, even in this infinitesimal degree, 



the compelling beauty of what must have 

 been one of his haunts and one dear to 

 Pan and the Nymphs. Half of me yearns 

 for this loveliness to be known to the elect 

 and the other half shudders at the idea of 

 its possible vulgarization in coming years. 

 To-day all this beauty is practically un- 

 known to the average traveler, and I for 

 one cannot but hope that it will remain so ; 

 it is, perhaps, too intimate, too poignant, 

 ever to become a popular tour. 



After leaving Eleusis, the principal city 

 is Megara, where the inhabitants rather 

 plume themselves on their Greek descent, 

 set as they are, like an island,. in the midst 

 of Albanians, by whom Attica is largely 

 populated. 



The Megarian women have the reputa- 

 tion of being very beautiful, and I must 

 say their eyes are fine, but their ankles are 

 vaguely reminiscent of those of a good 

 thick girl, a sister of Hans Brinker, whom 

 I once knew. She sold cream puffs of 

 peculiar flavor near the school I attended, 

 and to her, at twelve years, I gave my 

 heart unreservedly. Through the rosy 

 lens of memory I recall those ankles — 

 solid, substantial, work-a-day, but quite 

 without inspiration to artist or sculptor, 

 or even to an average student of compara- 

 tive anatomy like myself. 



AT PERFIDIOUS SKIRON'S HAUNTS 



Toward Megara there are superb views 

 of the sea and the mountains of the 

 Peloponnesus. We climbed slowly and 

 finally passed near the face of an almost 

 perpendicular wall of whitish rock. The 

 road here is supported by buttresses dat- 

 ing from classic times. 



On the cliff above us, in ancient times, 

 that well-known freebooter Skiron held 

 out. It will be recalled that one of his 

 engaging tricks, after robbing a traveler, 

 was to compel him to wash his feet, and to 

 kick the wretch into the sea below while 

 thus employed. Our revengeful spirit is 

 gratified by the knowledge that Theseus 

 paid the old villain in his own coin. 



A few miles before reaching Corinth, 

 the road crosses the Isthmian Canal, 

 which suggests a sword-cut in the brown 

 earth. This was excavated between 1881 

 and 1893 and links the Gulf of Corinth 

 with the Saronic Gulf, thus shortening 

 the journey from the Adriatic to Piroeus 

 by more than 200 miles. The idea of the 



