66 
made him angry, and one day when I was sporting 
with Apollo, Zephyr blew a quoit against my head 
and killed my human form. But out of the prin¬ 
ciple of life, which dwelt in my blood, Apollo made 
a flower. I know not whether it is that the gar¬ 
ments in which he arrays us are so beautiful to the 
eye, or that a mysterious sympathy with man links 
our souls together; but in some lands, men have 
been willing to give nearly all their earthly posses¬ 
sions for one of my race. 
“ I dare say that you think this is the first time I 
ever saw the sun ; but indeed I have visited many 
lands, and been sold more than once, for many 
thousands of dollars. I was born on the shores of 
the Mediterranean sea, on the very spot where 
young Hyacinthus died. A merchant carried me 
to Holland, and placed me in a large garden, where 
I never heard the sweet plashing of any waters, or 
