THE GOLDEN TOUCH
lustrous smile had glistened upon all the golden objects that were there, he turned again to Midas.
‘You are a wealthy man, friend Midas!’ he observed. ‘I doubt whether any other four walls, on earth, contain so much gold as you have contrived to pile up in this room.’
‘I have done pretty well,–pretty well,’ answered Midas, in a discontented tone. ‘But, after all, it is but a trifle, when you consider that it has taken me my whole life to get it together. If one could live a thousand years, he might have time to grow rich!’
‘What!’ exclaimed the stranger. ‘Then you are not satisfied?’
Midas shook his head.
‘And pray what would satisfy you?’ asked the stranger. ‘Merely for the curiosity of the thing, I should be glad to know.’
Midas paused and meditated. He felt a presentiment that this stranger, with such a golden lustre in his good-humoured smile, had come hither with both the power and the purpose of gratifying his utmost wishes. Now, therefore, was the fortunate moment, when he had but to speak, and obtain whatever possible, or seemingly impossible thing, it might come into his head to ask. So he thought, and thought, and thought, and heaped up one golden mountain upon another, in his imagination, without being able to imagine them big enough. At last a bright idea occurred to King Midas. It seemed really as bright as the glistening metal which he loved so much.
Raising his head, he looked the illustrious stranger in the face.
‘Well, Midas,’ observed his visitor, ‘I see that you
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