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Her father looked very serious, but at last he said: "Well, any one who will risk his life in that way is a fool, and deserves to die."

Word was sent to all the princes, but the most of them thought that while they loved Atalanta very much, they loved life even more, and they stayed away. Some of the princes, however, liked Atalanta so well that they could not bear to give her up without a trial, and when the day came for the first race, a number of strong young men were ready to try their luck. Every day a race was run, and every day, at the end of the race, some poor man had to lose his head. For no matter how strong they were, or how fast they could run, Atalanta beat them all easily. At last the people who watched the races began to feel that there had been enough blood shed, and to wonder if, after all, Atalanta were quite such a nice princess as they had thought her. Atalanta herself was very sorry for the foolish young men, but she could not stop now, for when a princess had once said she would do a thing, it was thought the worst sin in the world for her not to do it.

Now, among the princes who came there was one, named Hippomenes, who did not come to race. He had never seen Atalanta, and King Jasius had asked him to be there just to act as judge-that is, to watch the races and see who really came out ahead. The day before the first race Hippomenes went about telling the other princes how foolish he thought they were to risk their lives for such a thing.

"I should never be so foolish," he said. "No matter how beautiful and how rich the princess may be, she can't be as beautiful and as rich as the life I intend to lead."

But he never said such things after that first day. For when Atalanta stood up beside a brave young prince, ready for the first race, she looked so lovely, with her red cheeks and bright eyes and wind-blown hair, that Hippomenes fell in love with her on the spot. And as he watched her running and saw how graceful she was, he loved her more and more. Each day as he watched the race he found himself hoping that she would win, because he could not bear to think of any man but himself having her for his wife. Finally, when all the other princes had run and had been beheaded, Hippomenes said to the king: “And now I am ready to make my trial."

The king was surprised and grieved, because he had heard of the speeches Hippomenes had made to the other princes, and because he liked this young man the best of all who had come. But nothing he could say could induce Hippomenes to change his mind.

"I love Atalanta," he said, “and if I can't have her for my wife, I want to die."

Before going to the race course the next day, the prince, determined but frightened, prayed to Venus, the goddess who took especial care of people who were in love.

"Beautiful and powerful goddess," he prayed, "help me to win this race and Atalanta, and I shall never forget, as long as I live, to talk of your kindness and to make you rich gifts."

Now Venus was almost always ready to help people if they would admit that they could not get on without her, and while Hippomenes prayed, he saw that what he had thought was a soft white and gold cloud was really the goddess, coming toward

him with her hand stretched out. She came nearer and nearer, and finally dropped at his feet three shining yellow apples. They were not common yellow apples-no indeed! They came from Venus's own garden, and were of heavy, precious gold.

"I thank you, goddess, for this fruit," said Hippomenes. "In all my life I have never seen anything more beautiful. But how can they help me?"

ATALANTA STOOPED FOR THE APPLE

Then Venus stooped and whispered to the youth, and when he again raised his eyes to thank her, she had disappeared. But there was a smile on the face of Hippomenes-he looked as if he were not worried about the race.

When he stood side by side with Atalanta, however, he tried not to look too happy. All the people looked at him and whispered (for they did not dare let the king hear them grumbling):

"Must this youth also be killed? He is the youngest and the handsomest of all, and the king's daughter is too cruel."

Atalanta herself was more sorry than she had ever been before that she had made the vow about the racing.

But when she tried to induce Hippomenes to give her up without a trial, he only smiled at her and said:

"Something tells me that I shall not fail."

Atalanta knew nothing about the three golden apples which he had hidden in front of his loose robe; and when she saw that he was so sure of winning, her cheeks grew red with anger, and she said to herself:

"I had thought, because you are so young and look so much nicer than any of the other princes, that I might let you beat me. But since you are so sure, I shall run my best; and you will not be smiling long."

There they stood, each with one foot forward, each looking light as a bird just ready to fly from a branch. And then, while all the onlookers held their breath, the herald gave the word, and they were off.

Hippomenes ran like a deer, and at first he was a few paces ahead; but Atalanta ran like the wind, and soon she passed him. Then, still straining every nerve to overtake her, Hippomenes drew out one of the glittering golden apples, and tossed it ahead of him. Right in front of Atalanta's eyes it fell, and then it rolled to one side and lay there on the sand. What it was, Atalanta knew not-she only knew that it was beautiful and that she must have it. She turned aside, snatched it, and sped on. But while she stooped, Hippomenes had passed her, and she could see his fluttering robe far down the course. This did not frighten Atalanta-it just made her run faster, so that in a very few minutes she was again ahead. Then Hippomenes threw the second apple, and it came to a standstill so directly in front of Atalanta's feet that she almost fell when she stooped to pick it up. Again Hippomenes heard her breathing as she came close to him; again he saw her pass him.

The goal was in sight now, but the poor youth was so tired and so out of breath that he could scarcely run another step. You see, he had not been having as much practice in running as had Atalanta. But with all his strength he threw the last apple off to one side of the course. It was almost hidden in the tall grass, but Atalanta had seen as it passed her that this was the brightest and most beautiful of all, and she could not-no, she could not!-bear to think of any one else having it. As she raised herself after stooping to pick it up, behold! all the people were rising and were shouting "Hippomenes! Hippomenes!" And there at the end of the course, with his hands resting on the goal

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