THE SLIGHTED STRANGER.

A STORY FROM PLUTARCH.

BY LILLIE E. BARR.

Athens was keeping holiday; with song and rose Her fair youths lounged beneath her porticoes Discussing Sophocles, or Cæsar, or the place Sparta and Corinth took in the last race. The circus held a crowd of idlers bright and gay With expectation eager, as to-day Each had his favorite horse or wrestler, each was wise, And knew exactly who would win the prize. The proud Athenians, with insolent disdain, Sat by themselves; the Spartans, poor and plain, Took lower places; they but came to see The races run, or hear some tragedy. Each waited for the moment, some with jest and gibe, And some, like the Athenians, with still pride, As sure of nothing wonderful, but quite content To pass all blunders with a calm contempt. Just then into the crowded circus slowly came An aged Lydian, with long wandering lame. He bowed to the Athenian youths; they surely knew He was their guest, and what to him was due. But no one said, "Be seated," and all coolly saw The slighted stranger to the Spartans go; They rose with one assent the aged man to meet, And every youth cried, "Stranger, take my seat!" Then with the dignity that years and wisdom give, The old man answered, "Long may Sparta live To teach Athenian youths 'tis not enough to say, "Give place to age, honor the head that's gray"— "'Tis not enough to know what it is right to do, Unless the action make the precept true; Old Athens to young Athens nobly preaches, But Sparta practices what Athens teaches."