a wild-looking man dressed in skins, a cooking tent where whole sheep
were roasting and turning over a fire, another where tiny fish were
boiling in a great pot of oil and jumping as if alive--he saw them all.
He stood under the sculptors' awning and gazed at the marble people more
beautiful than life. And when he came upon Apollo striking his lyre, his
heart leaped into his mouth. He stood quiet for a long time gazing at
this god of song. Then he walked out of the tent with shining eyes.

At last it grew dark, and torches began to blaze in front of the booths.

"Shall we go home, Charmides?" said Glaucon.

"Oh, no!" cried the boy. "I haven't seen it all. I am not tired. It is
gayer now than ever with the torches. See all those shining flames."

And he ran to a booth where a hundred little bronze lamps hung, each
with its tongue of clear light. It was an imagemaker's booth. The table
stood full of little clay statues of the gods. Charmides took up one. It
was a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby.

"It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, my
little master," said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one,
poor Philo made this one."

"It is beautiful," said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderly
in his hand.

Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure. Then he followed
Charmides who had walked on. He was standing on the bridge gazing at the
water.