"Only think," said she to Flossy; "it was a woman once, that fountain
was; but she poured her life all out into tears, crying because her son
was killed. So the fountain is made of tears!"

"Bitter and salt, then," said Florence, threading her needle.

"No, indeed; just as sweet and nice as any water. Pegasus loved it; and
there was a beautiful young man, his name was Bel--Bel--well, I declare,
I've forgotten,--no, 'twas Bellerophon; and he had a bridle, and wanted
a horse. O, do you know this horse was white, with silvery wings, wild
as a hawk; and, once in a while, he would fold up his wings, and trot
round on the mountain!"

Florence yawned, and waxed her thread.

"O, it was a splendid bridle, this man had, made of gold; and I
forgot--the mountain the horse trotted round on was called Helicon. And
the man mounted him, and went up, up, till they were nothing but specks
in the sky."

"A likely story," said Florence; "there, you've told enough! I don't
want to hear any more such nonsense."

"Well, if you don't want to hear about the monster they killed, you
needn't; that's all I can say; but the young man loved that horse; and
he kissed him, too, he was so splendid!"

"Kiss a horse!" Flossy looked very, much disgusted.

"Why, I've kissed my pony a great many times," said Susy, bravely,