beginning had sighed among her sisters, and that could not die like
the echoes of human sorrow failing on earthly hills, but was as old
as time and the pain in Charon's arms.

Then the boat from the slow, grey river loomed up to the coast of
Dis and the little, silent shade still shivering stepped ashore, and
Charon turned the boat to go wearily back to the world. Then the
little shadow spoke, that had been a man.

"I am the last," he said.

No one had ever made Charon smile before, no one before had ever
made him weep.




THE DEATH OF PAN


When travellers from London entered Arcady they lamented one to
another the death of Pan.

And anon they saw him lying stiff and still.

Horned Pan was still and the dew was on his fur; he had not the look
of a live animal. And then they said, "It is true that Pan is dead."

And, standing melancholy by that huge prone body, they looked for
long at memorable Pan.