away in the hollow of her gown, which she had tucked up, three handfuls of sea-urchins and sticklebacks.
Meanwhile little Comatas, his mouth wide open, and drinking his own tears, was still bawling:
"Joessa! Joessa!"
Unlike Jove's eagle, the bird of Venus did not carry off little Comatas into the glorious skies. It left him on the earth, taking with it in its flight, between its pink talons, three golden hairs from his matted locks.
The child, with cheeks glistening with tears and begrimed with dust, clenching his wooden spoon in his tiny fists, was sobbing beside his overturned bowl.
Annaeus Mela, followed by his three friends, had reached the top of the basilica's steps. Alike heedless of the noise and stir of the idle multitude, he was imparting information to Cassius in regard to the future renovation of the universe.
"On a day determined by the gods," he said, "the things existing to-day, whose order and disposition claim our attention, will be destroyed. Stars will clash with stars, all matters composing the earth, the air, and the waters will be consumed in one conflagration. Human souls, imperceptible débris amid the universal destruction, will be resolved anew into their primitive elements. An entirely new world ..."
