carried it to the table. The goatherd picked up his long crook and
started his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!"

Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in a
pleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory.

"Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a
wolf. But first our thanks to the gods."

A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering
it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the
blue heavens.

"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, the
father, and to all the immortals be thanks."

As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground.
That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master
to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for
Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey,
the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At last
his father said:

"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?"

"No," said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to see
things."

His father laughed and leaped to his feet.