The Judgement of Adapted from Old Greek Folk-Stories, by Josephine Preston Peabody

The Greek God , the god of the wood crouched still as stone; the trees kept open air, was a great musician. He every leaf from rustling; earth and air played on a pipe of reeds. And were silent as a dream. To hear the sound of his reed-pipe was such music cease was like bid- so sweet that he grew proud, ding farewell to father and and believed himself greater mother. than the chief musician of When the charm was the gods, , the sun- broken, the hearers fell god. So he challenged at Apollo’s feet and pro- great Apollo to make bet- claimed the victory his. ter music than he. All but Midas. He alone Apollo consented to would not admit that the test, for he wished to the music was better than punish Pan’s vanity, and they Pan’s. chose the mountain Tmolus “If thine ears are so dull, for judge, since no one is so old mortal,” said Apollo, “they shall and wise as the hills. take the shape that suits them.” When Pan and Apollo came before And he touched the ears of Midas. And Tmolus, to play, their followers came with them, straightway the dull ears grew long, pointed, and to hear, and one of those who came with Pan was furry, and they turned this way and that. They a mortal named Midas. were the ears of an donkey! First Pan played; he blew on his reed-pipe, For a long time Midas managed to hide the and out came a tune so wild and yet so coaxing tell-tale ears from everyone; but at last a servant that the birds hopped from the trees to get near; discovered the secret. He knew he must not tell, the squirrels came running from their holes; and yet he could not bear not to; so one day he went the very trees swayed as if they wanted to dance. into the meadow, scooped a little hollow in the The fauns laughed aloud for joy as the melody turf, and whispered the secret into the earth. tickled their furry little ears. And Midas thought Then he covered it up again, and went away. But, it the sweetest music in the world. alas, a bed of reeds sprang up from the spot, and Then Apollo rose. His hair shook drops of whispered the secret to the grass. The grass told it light from its curls; his robes were like the edge to the tree-tops, the tree-tops to the little birds, of the sunset cloud; in his hands he held a golden and they cried it all abroad. lyre. And when he touched the strings of the lyre, And to this day, when the wind sets the reeds such music stole upon the air as never god nor nodding together, they whisper, laughing, “Midas mortal heard before. The wild creatures of the has the ears of an donkey! Oh, hush, hush!”

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