Morning journal and courier., 1886-12-18
A Classic Tale.


 "Tell me, Hiparche," quoth Diomedes, the scrivener, t.tell me by the love you bear the gods, is there this night in all Athens such delight as I returning from my toll have founda This kid is roasted to perfection, and the spinach more pleases the palate than the olives of Cyprus or the golden apples of Thrace; where is to be found such wine as you this moment have with your two hands poured out, and surely where, unless it be upon the sacred mount in Thessaly, is to be heard of mortal ears such song as you, touch ing your Tyre, discourse to the plaintive spondees of Phaon's rejected lovera' "Now, by Pallas Athene," quoth Hi parche, ''you say words that are smoother and do more rejoice me than the honey of Fly mettus. Yet what service can I, o Dio- medes, do of which you are not more than warthya For Eros and his sea-born mother shall bear me witness that since the time the arrow pierced my breast, kindling there the fire more subtle than that Prometheus stole, I to do your will has been my souls delightl'' ssNay,n demonstrated Diomedes, gently disengaging Hiparche's shapely arms from about his neck, "nay, dear wife, be not so demonstratfve; see, you have spilled the wine upon my togaln
 stThe gods save mel" cried Hiparche; q had no purpose of that kind, for twas but house, said to myself: "How clean is my Diomedes' attire! How well hath he pre- served his toga and his buskins from the last season-surely he will not want others for months to comeP"
 "By the temple. you must be blind, Hi parche minei" cried Diomedes. "Upon this toga there are many stains both here in all 0p wi mo f7es7. | ly have sat on benches newly painted. And, l look you, how that my buskins do bag at the kneesP'
 ssNot so, O Diomedes," !" quoth Hiparche. ssHave I,net eyes tosseea Yet, even were it 1 as you say--and so it is net-there is about you beauty and manly grace that make all people blind to what you wear. Helas, ai, all 'tis not so with me-ai, ai, he1asi not so with your Hiparche. It has pleased the gods to make me very human, and though I seek to be comedy in your eyes find it hard I to be 50. Look with your two eyes, Dio- medes, upon this flowing robe of mine and tell me is 1t not dowdya By Zeas, I am ashamed to be seen wearing it in the Aero polls, the more so since but to day Phaxylla she whom detest-paraded before the house clad in new gown of Carthagenian purplel" l tsBy Hercules,n protested Diomedes, "your robe beseems you; it hath preserved its color | and hath not lost it's shapeliness. I like it well, remembering that paid Mycemas the Cretan three tetradrachms or silver staters for it."
 May, by that same Hercules, 'tis dow. l dyl" cried Hiparche, and thereupon she fell to weeping and to beating of her breast and | to tearing of her hair, uttering wild oaths to PaIlas Athene and calling the gods to wit ness that she wished she had never been
 born to wed man who cared not how his
 wife looked so long as he himself was vel clothed. Whereupon Diomedes, touched
 with compassion for Hiparche, drew from
 his purse four tetradrachms, being his week.
 salary, and bade her buy the raiment she de sired.
 T Now, by the dog, how are the time
 changed! In these degenerate days we hay,
 no semblance to Hiparche, the Athenial
 wifei o, Zeus and ye other gods immortal
 dwellers on high 0lympus-how hardly has
 thou dealt with posterity, preserving the hk of Diomedes through all ages down to thi
 very moment, but diving to our companion
 ship none such as Hiparche to mulct us Q
 our love, of our devotion and of our tetra
 drachmsl