this poisoning of sweets, this overthrow of good-fortune; but they excused themselves, declaring that they had not meant to do harm. But Grannonia went on weeping and wailing, until Night came forth to illuminate the catafalque of the sky for the funeral pomp of the Sun; and when she saw that all were in bed, she took her jewels, which were in a writing-desk, and went out by a back-door, intending to search everywhere till she found the treasure she had lost.
So she went out of the city, guided by the light of the moon, and on her way she met a fox, who asked her if she wished for company. "Of all things, my friend," answered Grannonia, "I should be delighted, for I am not over-well acquainted with the country." So they travelled along together till they came to a wood, where the trees, at play like children, were making baby-houses for the shadows to lie in; and being now wearied with their journey, and wishing to repose, they retired to the covert of the leaves, where a fountain was playing carnival pranks with the green grass, flinging the water on it by dishfuls; and stretching themselves on a mattress of tender soft grass, they paid the duty of repose which they owed to Nature for the merchandize of life.
They did not awake till the Sun, with his usual fire, gave the signal to sailors and couriers to set out on