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Rh Now, however so nice this pleasant little retreat, and “fit for a goddess,” it would appear that none of these ladies could be persuaded by Pluto to share his throne. Finding the honour of his alliance everywhere “declined, with thanks,” he took at last the desperate step of carrying off to his subterranean realm Proserpine, the daughter of his brother Jupiter, and his sister Ceres. The bereaved mother lighted torches on Mount Ætna, and incessantly, both by day and night, sought for her daughter all over the world, but in vain. Informed at last of the whereabout of her daughter by the nymph Arethusa, she descended to the infernum to claim the restitution of her child, as she decidedly objected to brimstone matches. But Proserpine, won over, most likely, to Pluto by the splendour of his throne, showed no great eagerness to comply with mamma’s peremptory request to instantly “come out of that;” and poor Ceres was obliged, as a last resource, to appeal to the justice and power of Jupiter. He decreed that Proserpine should return to heaven, provided she had tasted nothing in hell; but, unfortunately, one of those busybodies who are always poking their noses into other people’s affairs, one Ascalaphus, son of Acheron and Orphne, stood forward as witness on Pluto’s behalf, deposing that he had seen the lady eating seven pomegranate seeds, as she walked in Pluto’s orchard. Whereupon, all hope of a return being gone, the angry mother touched the luckless Ascalaphus with her magic wand, and enriched the tribe of owls by a