the box had not looked so bewitchingly persuasive at her, and if she had
not seemed to hear, more distinctly than before, the murmur of small
voices within. She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; but there
was quite a little tumult of whispers in her ear,--or else it was her
curiosity that whispered,

"Let us out, dear Pandora,--pray let us out! We will be such nice
pretty playfellows for you! Only let us out!"

"What can it be?" thought Pandora. "Is there something alive in the
box? Well!--yes!--I am resolved to take just one peep! Only one peep;
and then the lid shall be shut down as safely as ever! There cannot
possibly be any harm in just one little peep!"

But it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus was doing.

This was the first time, since his little playmate had come to dwell
with him, that be had attempted to enjoy any pleasure in which she did
not partake. But nothing went right; nor was he nearly so happy as on
other days. He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if
Epimetheus had a fault, it was a little too much fondness for figs); or,
if ripe at all, they were over-ripe, and so sweet as to be cloying.
There was no mirth in his heart, such as usually made his voice gush
out, of its own accord, and swell the merriment of his companions. In
short, he grew so uneasy and discontented, that the other children could
not imagine what was the matter with Epimetheus. Neither did he himself
know what ailed him, any better than they did. For you must recollect,
that at the time we are speaking of, it was everybody's nature, and
constant habit, to be happy. The world had not yet learned to be
otherwise. Not a single soul or body, since these children were first