Whether it was that the imagination of King Midas threw a yellow
tinge over everything, or whatever the cause might be, he could
not help fancying that the smile with which the stranger regarded
him had a kind of golden brightness in it. Certainly, there was
now a brighter gleam upon all the piled-up treasures than before.
Even the remotest corners had their share of it, and were lighted
up, when the stranger smiled, as with tips of flame and sparkles
of fire.
As Midas knew that he had carefully turned the key in the lock,
and that no mortal strength could possibly break into his
treasure room, he, of course, concluded that his visitor must be
something more than mortal.
Midas had met such beings before now, and was not sorry to meet
one of them again. The stranger's aspect, indeed, was so
good-humored and kindly, if not beneficent, that it would have
been unreasonable to suspect him of intending any mischief. It
was far more probable that he came to do Midas a favor. And what
could that favor be, unless to multiply his heaps of treasure?
The stranger gazed about the room; and, when his lustrous smile
had glistened upon all the golden objects that were there, he
turned again to Midas.
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