the spring evening so long before. There were also Sophocles the
dramatist and Euripides the poet. Melas recognized them all, for they
were known to every one and he had seen them at the house of Pericles or
walking about the Agora on previous journeys. He pointed them out to the
Twins.

"That queer snub-nosed man back of Sophocles is Socrates the
philosopher," he said. "He is a friend of Pericles also, though he is
poor and queer, and is always standing about the market-place talking to
any one who will listen to him."

"Are there two philosophers in Athens?" asked Dion. "I thought Anaxagoras
was the philosopher."

Melas laughed. "Philosophers are as thick in Athens as bees in a hive,"
he said, "and poets too."

The beautiful embroidered robe, borne on a chariot shaped like a ship,
now appeared in the procession, and the crowd breathed a long sigh of
wonder and admiration as it passed. Then came a long row of young
girls bearing baskets and jars upon their shoulders. They were followed
by older women, for women were allowed to take part in this festival.
After them came youths on horseback, and then more youths leading
garlanded oxen for the sacrifice. The procession was so long that the end
of it was still winding through the streets below some time after the
head had reached the top of the incline. Right up the steep slope it
streamed, between the gaping crowds massed on either side, and when the
very end of it had passed out of sight, the people closed in behind it
and swarmed over the level height of the sacred hill.