A beechen bowl
was filled with warm water, that their guests might wash. While
all was doing, they beguiled the time with conversation.
On the bench designed for the guests was laid a cushion stuffed
with sea-weed; and a cloth, only produced on great occasions, but
ancient and coarse enough, was spread over that. The old lady,
with her apron on, with trembling hand set the table. One leg was
shorter than the rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the
level. When fixed, she rubbed the table down with some sweet-
smelling herbs. Upon it she set some of chaste Minerva's olives,
some cornel berries preserved in vinegar, and added radishes and
cheese, with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes. All were served in
earthen dishes, and an earthenware pitcher, with wooden cups,
stood beside them. When all was ready, the stew, smoking hot, was
set on the table. Some wine, not of the oldest, was added; and for
dessert, apples and wild honey; and over and above all, friendly
faces, and simple but hearty welcome.
Now while the repast proceeded, the old folks were astonished to
see that the wine, as fast as it was poured out, renewed itself in
the pitcher, of its own accord. Struck with terror, Baucis and
Philemon recognized their heavenly guests, fell on their knees,
and with clasped hands implored forgiveness for their poor
entertainment.
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