hide, the entrails, and the feet of the victim. All the rest of the flesh
goes to the master of the sacrifice."

So it continues to regulate the fees for a calf, a ram, a bird; also for
cakes, and for offerings made by lepers and by common people. The table of
fees is extremely curious and is, I believe, unique.

The Phoenician colony at Marseilles was probably in decline when, in B.C.
599, a Greek fleet left the port of Phocaea, one of the twelve Ionian cities
of Asia Minor, seeking new homes in the West. The colony was under the
command of an adventurer named Protis. Attracted by the Bay of Marseilles,
and the basin surrounded by hills that lay in its lap, the Greek colony
disembarked.

And now for a legend.

The first measure taken by the new arrivals was to send a deputation to the
King of the Segobrigae, a Keltic race occupying what is now called Provence.
The king was at Arles, which was his capital; his name was Nannos. By a
happy coincidence the embassy arrived on the day upon which Nannos had
assembled the warriors of his tribe, for his daughter, Gyptis, to choose a
husband among them.

The arrival of the young Greek, Protis, in the midst of this banquet was a
veritable _coup-de-theatre_; he took his place at the board. His natural
grace, his easy and polished manners, the nobleness and elegance of his
person and features, contrasted strangely with the savagery and coarseness
of the Gaulish warriors.

Free to choose whom she would, Gyptis rose from the table, filled a cup,