"No, you know the little rogue had hidden the harp in the reeds by the
river. Another day he ran away and got into worse trouble than he
expected, for he dared to steal some of Apollo's cattle. They were
beautiful snow-white creatures, feeding in the violet meadows of the
sky. As he saw them drifting slowly toward him, the mischief in him made
him drive these gentle creatures into the sea, and, being tired and
hungry, he tore the last one to pieces and fed on it.

"Though this mischief-maker walked backward to his home, trying to
deceive any who would hunt for him, Apollo found him out. When the
sun-god saw him lying there, a helpless baby in a cradle, Mercury almost
made him think that he had not done the wrong. But at last even
Mercury's mother believed him guilty, for the proofs brought were many,
and Apollo came to take him away. Then the little wind-god took from
under his cradle-clothes the harp which he had hidden there, and
breathed upon it. Apollo was charmed by the melody and could only say:

"'Give me that, and I will not ask for my stolen cattle.'

[Illustration: MERCURY. From a statue in Florence, Italy.]

"That was just what Mercury wished. He quickly handed him the tortoise
shell. In Apollo's hands it made still sweeter music, for everything
Apollo did was best.

"So nimble Mercury was free. When the child was a few months older,
Apollo chose him for his messenger. He gave him a cap with wings at
either side, and winged sandals. In his hands he always carried a winged
wand with two serpents crossed and recrossed upon it. You have surely
seen his picture, Ethel?"