Xanthe, unobserved by the children, became a witness of this contest
between might and right, hastily stepped between the combatants, gave the
boy a blow on the shoulder, took the boat away, handed it to the little
maiden, and, turning to the latter, said:
"Now, play quietly together, and, if Syrus doesn't let you keep the boat
and the shells, come to me, poor Stephanion."
So saying, she wiped the little girl's eyes with her own skirt, seized
her by the shoulder, grasped the boy's black curls, pressed the two
little ones toward each other with gentle violence, and commanded:
"Now, kiss each other!"
The little girl dutifully obeyed the bidding, but the kiss the boy gave
his playmate strongly resembled a blow with the mouth.
Xanthe laughed merrily, turned her back on the children, and went slowly
down into the valley.
During her walk all sorts of little incidents flashed through her mind
with the speed of lightning; memories of the days when she herself was a
little girl and Phaon had played with her daily, as the curly-headed
Syrus now did with the herdsman's daughter.
But all the scenes swiftly conjured up before her mental vision were very
different from that just witnessed.
Once, when she had said that the brook couldn't bear to the sea all the
leaves and flowers she tossed in, Phaon only smiled quietly, but the next
day she found, fastened to an axis, a wooden cross he had carved himself
and fixed between some stones The stream swept against the broad surfaces
of the spokes and forced it to turn constantly.
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