PANDORA AND THE GREAT BOX
Long, long ago, when this old world was in its infancy, there was a child named Epimetheus
who never had either father or mother. In order that he might not be lonely, another child,
fatherless and motherless like himself, was sent from a far country to be his playfellow. Her name was Pandora.
The first thing that Pandora saw when she entered the cottage where Epimetheus dwelt was a great box. And almost the first question which she put to him, after crossing the threshold, was
this:
"Epimetheus, what have you in that box?"
"My dear little Pandora," answered Epimetheus, "that is a secret, and you must be kind
enough not to ask any questions about it. The box was left here to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains."
"But who gave it to you?" asked Pandora." And where' did it come from?"
"That is a secret, too," replied Epimetheus.
"How provoking!" exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. "I wish the great ugly box were out of the way!"
"0 come, don't think of it any more,!' cried Epimetheus. "Let us run out of doors, and play
with the other children."
It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pandora were alive. Then, everybody was a
child. Children needed no fathers and mothers to take care of them; because there was no danger or trouble of any kind, and there were no clothes to be mended, and there were always plenty of things to eat and to drink.
Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he found it growing on a tree; and if he looked at the tree in the morning, he could see the blossom of that night's supper; or at eventide he saw the tender bud of tomorrow's breakfast. It was a very pleasant life indeed. No labor to be done, no lessons to be studied; nothing but sports and dances and sweet voices of children talking or singing.
What was most wonderful of all, the children never quarreled among themselves; neither had they any crying fits; nor, since time first began, had a single one of them ever gone into a corner and sulked. Oh, what a good time was that to be alive in! The truth is, those ugly little winged monsters called Troubles, which are now almost as numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the earth. Perhaps the very greatest uneasiness which a child had ever felt was Pandora's vexation at not being able to discover the secret of the mysterious box.
"Whence can the box have come?" Pandora continually kept saying to herself and to
Epimetheus. "And what on earth can be inside of it?"
"Always talking about this box!" said Epimetheus at last, for he had grown tired of the
subject. "I wish, dear Pandora, you would try to talk of something else. Come, let us go and
gather some ripe figs, and eat them under the trees for our supper. And I know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted."
"Always talking about grapes and figs !" cried Pandora, pettishly.
"Well, then," said Epimetheus, who was a very good-tempered child, "let us run out and have a merry time with our playmates.
I am tired of merry times, and don't care if I never have any more!" answered pettish little
Pandora. "And, besides, I never do have any. This ugly box! I am so taken up with thinking about it all the time. I insist upon your telling me what is inside of it."
"As I have already said fifty times over, I do not know!" replied Epimetheus, getting a little vexed himself. "How, then, can I tell you what is inside?"
"You might open it," said Pandora, "and then we could see for ourselves."
"Pandora, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed Epimetheus.
His face showed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box which had been given to
him on his promise never to open it, that Pandora thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still, she could not help thinking and talking about the box.
"At least," said she, "you can tell me how it came here." "It was left at the door," replied
Epimetheus, "just before you came, by a person who looked very smiling and who could hardly keep from laughing as he put it down. He was dressed in an odd kind of cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of feathers, so that it looked almost as if it had wings."
"What sort of staff had he?" asked Pandora.
"Oh, the most curious staff you ever saw!" cried Epimetheus" It was like two serpents
twisting around a stick and was carved so naturally that I at first thought the serpents were
alive."
"I know him," said Pandora thoughtfully. "Nobody else. has such a staff. It was Quicksilver, and he brought me here as well as the box. No doubt he intended it for me; and most probably it contains pretty dresses for me to wear, or something very nice for us both to eat!"
"Perhaps so,' answered Epimetheus, turning away. "But until Quicksilver comes back and
tells us so, we have neither of us any right to lift the lid of the box."
"What a dull boy he is!" muttered Pandora, as Epimetheus left the cottage.
Long, long ago, when this old world was in its infancy, there was a child named Epimetheus
who never had either father or mother. In order that he might not be lonely, another child,
fatherless and motherless like himself, was sent from a far country to be his playfellow. Her name was Pandora.
The first thing that Pandora saw when she entered the cottage where Epimetheus dwelt was a great box. And almost the first question which she put to him, after crossing the threshold, was
this:
"Epimetheus, what have you in that box?"
"My dear little Pandora," answered Epimetheus, "that is a secret, and you must be kind
enough not to ask any questions about it. The box was left here to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains."
"But who gave it to you?" asked Pandora." And where' did it come from?"
"That is a secret, too," replied Epimetheus.
"How provoking!" exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip. "I wish the great ugly box were out of the way!"
"0 come, don't think of it any more,!' cried Epimetheus. "Let us run out of doors, and play
with the other children."
It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pandora were alive. Then, everybody was a
child. Children needed no fathers and mothers to take care of them; because there was no danger or trouble of any kind, and there were no clothes to be mended, and there were always plenty of things to eat and to drink.
Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he found it growing on a tree; and if he looked at the tree in the morning, he could see the blossom of that night's supper; or at eventide he saw the tender bud of tomorrow's breakfast. It was a very pleasant life indeed. No labor to be done, no lessons to be studied; nothing but sports and dances and sweet voices of children talking or singing.
What was most wonderful of all, the children never quarreled among themselves; neither had they any crying fits; nor, since time first began, had a single one of them ever gone into a corner and sulked. Oh, what a good time was that to be alive in! The truth is, those ugly little winged monsters called Troubles, which are now almost as numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the earth. Perhaps the very greatest uneasiness which a child had ever felt was Pandora's vexation at not being able to discover the secret of the mysterious box.
"Whence can the box have come?" Pandora continually kept saying to herself and to
Epimetheus. "And what on earth can be inside of it?"
"Always talking about this box!" said Epimetheus at last, for he had grown tired of the
subject. "I wish, dear Pandora, you would try to talk of something else. Come, let us go and
gather some ripe figs, and eat them under the trees for our supper. And I know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted."
"Always talking about grapes and figs !" cried Pandora, pettishly.
"Well, then," said Epimetheus, who was a very good-tempered child, "let us run out and have a merry time with our playmates.
I am tired of merry times, and don't care if I never have any more!" answered pettish little
Pandora. "And, besides, I never do have any. This ugly box! I am so taken up with thinking about it all the time. I insist upon your telling me what is inside of it."
"As I have already said fifty times over, I do not know!" replied Epimetheus, getting a little vexed himself. "How, then, can I tell you what is inside?"
"You might open it," said Pandora, "and then we could see for ourselves."
"Pandora, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed Epimetheus.
His face showed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box which had been given to
him on his promise never to open it, that Pandora thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still, she could not help thinking and talking about the box.
"At least," said she, "you can tell me how it came here." "It was left at the door," replied
Epimetheus, "just before you came, by a person who looked very smiling and who could hardly keep from laughing as he put it down. He was dressed in an odd kind of cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of feathers, so that it looked almost as if it had wings."
"What sort of staff had he?" asked Pandora.
"Oh, the most curious staff you ever saw!" cried Epimetheus" It was like two serpents
twisting around a stick and was carved so naturally that I at first thought the serpents were
alive."
"I know him," said Pandora thoughtfully. "Nobody else. has such a staff. It was Quicksilver, and he brought me here as well as the box. No doubt he intended it for me; and most probably it contains pretty dresses for me to wear, or something very nice for us both to eat!"
"Perhaps so,' answered Epimetheus, turning away. "But until Quicksilver comes back and
tells us so, we have neither of us any right to lift the lid of the box."
"What a dull boy he is!" muttered Pandora, as Epimetheus left the cottage.