"They are not men and women any longer," answered the elder traveler,
in a deep voice like distant thunder. "There was no beauty and no use
in lives such as theirs, for they had no love for one another, and no
pity in their hearts for those who were poor and weary. Therefore the
lake that was here in the old, old days has flowed over them, and they
will be men and women no more."

"Yes," said Mercury, with his mischievous smile, "these foolish people
have all been changed into fishes because they had cold blood which
never warmed their hearts, just as the fishes have."

"As for you, good Philemon, and you, kind Baucis," said the elder
traveler, "you, indeed, gave a hearty welcome to the homeless
strangers. You have done well, my dear old friends, and whatever wish
you have most at heart will be granted."

Philemon and Baucis looked at one another, and then I do not know
which spoke, but it seemed as if the voice came from them both. "Let
us live together while we live, and let us die together, at the same
time, for we have always loved one another."

"Be it so," said the elder stranger, and he held out his hands as if
to bless them. The old couple bent their heads and fell on their knees
to thank him, and when they lifted their eyes again, neither Mercury
nor his companion was to be seen.

So Philemon and Baucis returned to the cottage, and to every traveler
who passed that way they offered a drink of milk from the wonderful
pitcher, and if the guest was a kind, gentle soul, he found the milk
the sweetest and most refreshing he had ever tasted. But if a cross,