"Why," replied Phoebus, "as the little girl was gathering flowers she
was snatched up by King Pluto and carried off to his kingdom. I have
never been there myself, but I am told the royal palace is splendidly
built. Proserpina will have gold and silver and diamonds to play with,
and I am sure even although there is no sunshine, she will have a very
happy life."

"Hush! do not say such a thing," said Ceres. "What has she got to
love? What are all these splendors if she has no one to care for? I
must have her back. Good Phoebus, will you come with me to demand my
daughter from this wicked Pluto?"

"Pray excuse me," answered Phoebus, with a bow. "I certainly wish you
success, and I am sorry I am too busy to go with you. Besides, King
Pluto does not care much for me. To tell you the truth, his dog with
the three heads would never let me pass the gateway. I always carry
a handful of sunbeams with me, and those, you know, are not allowed
within King Pluto's kingdom."

So the poor mother said good-by and hastened away along with Hecate.

Ceres had now found out what had become of her daughter, but she was
not any happier than before. Indeed, her trouble seemed worse than
ever. So long as Proserpina was above-ground there was some hope of
getting her home again. But now that the poor child was shut up behind
King Pluto's iron gates, with the three-headed Cerberus on guard
beside them, there seemed no hope of her escape.

The dismal Hecate, who always looked on the darkest side of things,
told Ceres she had better come back with her to the cave and spend the