A HouseBoat on the Styx ..................................................................................................................................1

John Kendrick Bangs...............................................................................................................................1

Charon, the Ferryman of renown, was cruising slowly along the Styx one pleasant Friday morning not long

ago, and as he paddled idly on he chuckled mildly to himself as he thought of the monopoly in ferriage which

"It's a great thing," he said, with a smirk of satisfaction"it's a great thing to be the gobetween between two

states of being; to have the exclusive franchise to export and import shades from one state to the other, and

withal to have had as clean a record as mine has been. Valuable as is my franchise, I never corrupted a public

Here Charon stopped his soliloquy and his boat simultaneously. As he rounded one of the many turns in the

river a singular object met his gaze, and one, too, that filled him with misgiving. It was another craft, and that

was a thing not to be tolerated. Had he, Charon, owned the exclusive right of way on the Styx all these years

to have it disputed here in the closing decade of the Nineteenth Century? Had not he dealt satisfactorily with

all, whether it was in the line of ferriage or in the providing of boats for pleasuretrips up the river? Had he

not received expressions of satisfaction, indeed, from the most exclusive families of Hades with the very

select series of picnics he had given at Charon's Glen Island? No wonder, then, that the queerlooking boat

that met his gaze, moored in a shady nook on the dark side of the river, filled him with dismay.

"Blow me for a landlubber if I like that!" he said, in a hardly audible whisper. "And shiver my timbers if I

don't find out what she's there for. If anybody thinks he can run an opposition line to mine on this river he's

mightily mistaken. If it comes to competition, I can carry shades for nothing and still quaff the B. G.

yellowlabel benzine three times a day without experiencing a financial panic. I'll show 'em a thing or two if

they attempt to rival me. And what a boat! It looks for all the world like a Florentine barn on a canalboat."

Charon paddled up to the side of the craft, and, standing up in the middle of his boat, cried out,

There was no answer, and the Ferryman hailed her again. Receiving no response to his second call, he

resolved to investigate for himself; so, fastening his own boat to the sternpost of the stranger, he clambered

on board. If he was astonished as he sat in his ferry boat, he was paralyzed when he cast his eye over the

unwelcome vessel he had boarded. He stood for at least two minutes rooted to the spot. His eye swept over a

long, broad deck, the polish of which resembled that of a ballroom floor. Amidships, running from three

quarters aft to threequarters forward, stood a structure that in its lines resembled, as Charon had intimated, a

barn, designed by an architect enamoured of Florentine simplicity; but in its construction the richest of woods

had been used, and in its interior arrangement and adornment nothing more palatial could be conceived.

"What's the blooming thing for?" said Charon, more dismayed than ever. "If they start another line with a

craft like this, I'm very much afraid I'm done for after all. I wouldn't take a boat like mine myself if there was

a floating palace like this going the same way. I'll have to see the Commissioners about this, and find out

A prey to these unhappy reflections, Charon investigated further, and the more he saw the less he liked it. He

was about to encounter opposition, and an opposition which was apparently backed by persons of great

wealthperhaps the Commissioners themselves. It was a consoling thought that he had saved enough money

in the course of his career to enable him to live in comfort all his days, but this was not really what Charon

was after. He wished to acquire enough to retire and become one of the smart set. It had been done in that

section of the universe which lay on the bright side of the Styx, why not, therefore, on the other, he asked.

"I'm pretty well connected even if I am a boatman," he had been known to say. "With Chaos for a

grandfather, and Erebus and Nox for parents, I've just as good blood in my veins as anybody in Hades. The

Noxes are a mighty fine family, not as bright as the Days, but older; and we're poorthat's it, poorand it's

money makes caste these days. If I had millions, and owned a railroad, they'd call me a yachtowner. As I

haven't, I'm only a boatman. Bah! Wait and see! I'll be giving swell functions myself some day, and these

upstarts will be on their knees before me begging to be asked. Then I'll get up a little aristocracy of my own,

and I won't let a soul into it whose name isn't mentioned in the Grecian mythologies. Mention in Burke's

peerage and the Elite directories of America won't admit anybody to Commodore Charon's house unless

Foreseeing an unhappy ending to all his hopes, the old man clambered sadly back into his ancient vessel and

paddled off into the darkness. Some hours later, returning with a large company of new arrivals, while

counting up the profits of the day Charon again caught sight of the new craft, and saw that it was brilliantly

lighted and thronged with the most famous citizens of the Erebean country. Up in the bow was a spirit band

discoursing music of the sweetest sort. Merry peals of laughter rang out over the dark waters of the Styx. The

clink of glasses and the popping of corks punctuated the music with a frequency which would have delighted

the soul of the most ardent lover of commas, all of which so overpowered the grand master boatman of the

Stygian Ferry Company that he dropped three oboli and an American dime, which he carried as a

pocketpiece, overboard. This, of course, added to his woe; but it was forgotten in an instant, for some one

on the new boat had turned a searchlight directly upon Charon himself, and simultaneously hailed the

"Ahoy yourself!" returned the old man, paddling his craft close up to the stranger. "What do you want?"

"I'm sure I don't know. I'm only a member of the club, and house committees never let mere members know

"Sir Walter Raleigh, Cassius, Demosthenes, Blackstone, Doctor Johnson, and Confucius," replied the shade.

"Tell 'em I'll be back in an hour," said Charon, pushing off. "I've got a cargo of shades on board consigned to

various places up the river. I've promised to get 'em all through tonight, but I'll put on a couple of extra

paddlestwo of the new arrivals are working their passage this tripand it won't take as long as usual.

"Thunder!" cried Charon, as he pushed off and proceeded on his way up the river. "Named after my mother!

More hopeful of mood, Charon, aided by the two deadhead passengers, soon got through with his evening's

work, and in less than an hour was back seeking admittance, as requested, to the company of Sir Walter

Raleigh and his fellowmembers on the house committee. He was received by these worthies with

considerable effusiveness, considering his position in society, and it warmed the cockles of his aged heart to

note that Sir Walter, who had always been rather distant to him since he had carelessly upset that worthy and

Queen Elizabeth in the middle of the Styx far back in the last century, permitted him to shake three fingers of

"How do you do, Charon?" said Sir Walter, affably. "We are very glad to see you."

"Thank you, kindly, Sir Walter," said the boatman. "I'm glad to hear those words, your honor, for I've been

feeling very bad since I had the misfortune to drop your Excellency and her Majesty overboard. I never knew

how it happened, sir, but happen it did, and but for her Majesty's kind assistance it might have been the worse

The knight shook his head menacingly at Charon. Hitherto he had managed to keep it a secret that the Queen

had rescued him from drowning upon that occasion by swimming ashore herself first and throwing Sir Walter

"Very well, Sir Walter, I won't," said the boatman; but he made a mental note of the knight's agitation, and

perceived a means by which that illustrious courtier could be made useful to him in his scheming for social

"I understood you had something to say to me," said Charon, after he had greeted the others.

"No," said Confucius, tapping the table with a diamondstudded chop stick. "No. We want aerwhat

"Your mind is still running on Senatorships, my dear Cassius. That is quite evident," he said. "This is not one

of them, however. The title we wish Charon to assume is neither Captain nor Senator; it is Janitor."

"What's that?" asked Charon, a little disappointed. "What does a Janitor have to do?"

"He has to look after things in the house," explained Sir Walter. "He's a sort of proprietor by proxy. We want

you to take charge of the house, and see to it that the boat is kept shipshape."

"This is it," said Sir Walter. "This is the house, and the boat too. In fact, it is a houseboat."

"Then it isn't a newfangled scheme to drive me out of business?" said Charon, warily.

"Not at all," returned Sir Walter. "It's a newfangled scheme to set you up in business. We'll pay you a large

salary, and there won't be much to do. You are the best man for the place, because, while you don't know

much about houses, you do know a great deal about boats, and the boat part is the most important part of a

houseboat. If the boat sinks, you can't save the house; but if the house burns, you may be able to save the

"Another reason why we want to employ you for Janitor," said Confucius, "is that our club wants to be in

direct communication with both sides of the Styx; and we think you as Janitor would be able to make better

arrangements for transportation with yourself as boatman, than some other man as Janitor could make with

"Furthermore," said Cassius, "occasionally we shall want to have this boat towed up or down the river,

according to the house committee's pleasure, and we think it would be well to have a Janitor who has some

"Very well, gentlemen," said Charon. "I'll accept the office on a salary of two hundred oboli a month, with

The committee went into executive session for five minutes, and on their return informed Charon that in

"The Associated Shades," said Sir Walter. "The swellest organization in Hades, whose new houseboat you

"Right away," said Charon, noting by the clock that it was the hour of midnight. "I'll start in right away, and

"How are you, Charon?" said Shakespeare, as the Janitor assisted him on board. "Any one here tonight?"

"Yes, sir," said Charon. "Lord Bacon is up in the library, and Doctor Johnson is down in the billiardroom,

"Not as well as he does the fiddle, sir," said the Janitor, with a twinkle in his eye.

Shakespeare entered the house and tossed up an obolus. "Heads Bacon; tailspool with Nero and

The coin came down with heads up, and Shakespeare went into the pool room, just to show the Fates that he

didn't care a tuppence for their verdict as registered through the obolus. It was a peculiar custom of

Shakespeare's to toss up a coin to decide questions of little consequence, and then do the thing the coin

decided he should not do. It showed, in Shakespeare's estimation, his entire independence of those dull

persons who supposed that in them was centred the destiny of all mankind. The Fates, however, only smiled

at these little acts of rebellion, and it was common gossip in Erebus that one of the trio had told the Furies

that they had observed Shakespeare's tendency to kick over the traces, and always acted accordingly. They

never let the coin fall so as to decide a question the way they wanted it, so that unwittingly the great dramatist

did their will after all. It was a part of their plan that upon this occasion Shakespeare should play pool with

Doctor Johnson and the Emperor Nero, and hence it was that the coin bade him repair to the library and chat

"Hullo, William," said the Doctor, pocketing three balls on the break. "How's our little Swanlet of Avon this

"Worn out," Shakespeare replied. "I've been hard at work on a play this morning, and I'm tired."

"You are a bright spirit," said Shakespeare, with a sigh. "I wish I had thought to work you up into a tragedy."

"I've often wondered why you didn't," said Doctor Johnson. "He'd have made a superb tragedy, Nero would. I

don't believe there was any kind of a crime he left uncommitted. Was there, Emperor?"

"Yes. I never wrote an English dictionary," returned the Emperor, dryly. "I've murdered everything but

"I could have made a fine tragedy out of you," said Shakespeare. "Just think what a dreadful climax for a

tragedy it would be, Johnson, to have Nero, as the curtain fell, playing a violin solo."

"Pretty good," returned the Doctor. "But what's the use of killing off your audience that way? It's better

business to let 'em live, I say. Suppose Nero gave a London audience that little musicale he provided at

Queen Elizabeth's Wednesday night. How many purely mortal beings, do you think, would have come out

"Not one," said Shakespeare. "I was mighty glad that night that we were an immortal band. If it had been

"That's all right," said Nero, with a significant shake of his head. "As my friend Bacon makes Ingo say,

'Beware, my lord, of jealousy.' You never could play a garden hose, much less a fiddle."

"What do you mean my attributing those words to Bacon?" demanded Shakespeare, getting red in the face.

"Oh, come now, William," remonstrated Nero. "It's all right to pull the wool over the eyes of the mortals.

That's what they're there for; but as for uswe're all in the secret here. What's the use of putting on nonsense

"We'll see in a minute what the use is," retorted the Avonian. "We'll have Bacon down here." Here he

"Charon, bring Doctor Johnson the usual glass of ale. Get some ice for the Emperor, and ask Lord Bacon to

"Not now," retorted Shakespeare, "but you will in a few minutes. When we have finished with you, you'll

want an iceberg. I'm getting tired of this idiotic talk about not having written my own works. There's one

thing about Nero's music that I've never said, because I haven't wanted to hurt his feelings, but since he has

chosen to cast aspersions upon my honesty I haven't any hesitation in saying it now. I believe it was one of

his fiddlings that sent Nature into convulsions and caused the destruction of Pompeiiso there! Put that on

Nero's face grew purple with anger, and if Shakespeare had been anything but a shade he would have fared

ill, for the enraged Roman, poising his cue on high as though it were a lance, hurled it at the impertinent

dramatist with all his strength, and with such accuracy of aim withal that it pierced the spot beneath which in

"Good shot," said Doctor Johnson, nonchalantly. "If you had been a mortal, William, it would have been the

"You can't kill me," said Shakespeare, shrugging his shoulders. "I know seven dozen actors in the United

States who are trying to do it, but they can't. I wish they'd try to kill a critic once in a while instead of me,

though," he added. "I went over to Boston one night last week, and, unknown to anybody, I waylaid a fellow

who was to play Hamlet that night. I drugged him, and went to the theatre and played the part myself. It was

the coldest house you ever saw in your life. When the audience did applaud, it sounded like an iceman

chopping up ice with a small pick. Several times I looked up at the galleries to see if there were not icicles

growing on them, it was so cold. Well, I did the best could with the part, and next morning watched curiously

"They all dismissed me with a line," said the dramatist. "Said my conception of the part was not

"No," said the shade of Emerson, which had strolled in while Shakespeare was talking, "that isn't criticism;

"Who discovered Boston, anyhow?" asked Doctor Johnson. "It wasn't Columbus, was it?"

"Oh no," said Emerson. "Old Governor Winthrop is to blame for that. When he settled at Charlestown he saw

"Spelt with a P, I suppose?" said Shakespeare. "PSHAW, Pshaw, M UT, mut, Pshawmut, so called

"Well, tell Boswell," said Shakespeare. "He'll make you say it, and it'll be all the same in a hundred years."

Lord Bacon, accompanied by Charon and the ice for Nero and the ale for Doctor Johnson, appeared as

Shakespeare spoke. The philosopher bowed stiffly at Doctor Johnson, as though he hardly approved of him,

"I did," said Shakespeare. "I sent for you because this imperial violinist here says that you wrote Othello."

"Sh!" said Shakespeare, shaking his head madly. "Hush. Nobody's said anything about that. This is purely a

"The fiddling exEmperor Nero," said Bacon, loudly enough to be heard all about the room, "is mistaken

"Then I erred, that is all," said Nero. "And I apologize. But really, my Lord," he added, addressing Bacon, "I

"No. I had nothing to do with the Othello," said Bacon. "I never really knew who wrote it."

"That's good too," said Nero, with a chuckle. "Shakespeare here claims it as his own."

"Will always was having his little joke," he said. "Eh, Will? How we fooled 'em on Hamlet, eh, my boy?

"Well, the laugh is on you," said Doctor Johnson. "If you wrote Hamlet and didn't have the sense to

acknowledge it, you present to my mind a closer resemblance to Simple Simon than to Socrates. For my part,

I don't believe you did write it, and I do believe that Shakespeare did. I can tell that by the spelling in the

"Shakespeare was my stenographer, gentlemen," said Lord Bacon. "If you want to know the whole truth, he

"I deny it," said Shakespeare. "I admit you gave me a suggestion now and then so as to keep it dull and heavy

in spots, so that it would seem more like a real tragedy than a comedy punctuated with deaths, but beyond

"I side with Shakespeare," put in Emerson. "I've seen his autographs, and no sane person would employ a

man who wrote such a villanously bad hand as an amanuensis. It's no use, Bacon, we know a thing or two.

"Well," said Bacon, shrugging his shoulders as though the results of the controversy were immaterial to him,

"have it so if you please. There isn't any money in Shakespeare these days, so what's the use of quarrelling? I

wrote Hamlet, and Shakespeare knows it. Others know it. Ah, here comes Sir Walter Raleigh. We'll leave it

"What's the trouble?" asked Raleigh, sauntering up and taking a chair under the cuerack. "Talking politics?"

"Not we," said Bacon. "It's the old question about the authorship of Hamlet. Will, as usual, claims it for

"Well, what if he does?" laughed Raleigh. "We all know Will and his droll ways."

"No doubt," put in Nero. "But the question of Hamlet always excites him so that we'd like to have it settled

"Then settle it once and for all," said Bacon. "I'm rather tired of the discussion myself."

"It's immaterial to me," said Shakespeare, airily. "If you wish only tell the truth."

"Very well," said Raleigh, lighting a cigar. "I'm not ashamed of it. I wrote the thing myself."

There was a roar of laughter which, when it subsided, found Shakespeare rapidly disappearing through the

door, while all the others in the room ordered various beverages at the expense of Lord Bacon.

It was Washington's Birthday, and the gentleman who had the pleasure of being Father of his Country

decided to celebrate it at the Associated Shades' floating palace on the Styx, as the Elysium Weekly Gossip,

"a Journal of Society," called it, by giving a dinner to a select number of friends. Among the invited guests

were Baron Munchausen, Doctor Johnson, Confucius, Napoleon Bonaparte, Diogenes, and Ptolemy. Boswell

was also present, but not as a guest. He had a table off to one side all to himself, and upon it there were no

china plates, silver spoons, knives, forks, and dishes of fruit, but pads, pens, and ink in great quantity. It was

evident that Boswell's reportorial duties did not end with his labors in the mundane sphere.

The dinner was set down to begin at seven o'clock, so that the guests, as was proper, sauntered slowly in

between that hour and eight. The menu was particularly choice, the shades of countless canvasback ducks,

terrapin, and sheep having been called into requisition, and cooked by no less a person than BrillatSavarin,

in the hottest oven he could find in the famous cooking establishment superintended by the government.

Washington was on hand early, sampling the olives and the celery and the wines, and giving to Charon final

The first guest to arrive was Confucius, and after him came Diogenes, the latter in great excitement over

having discovered a comparatively honest man, whose name, however, he had not been able to ascertain,

though he was under the impression that it was something like Burpin, or Turpin, he said.

At eight the brilliant company was arranged comfortably about the board. An orchestra of five, under the

leadership of Mozart, discoursed sweet music behind a screen, and the feast of reason and flow of soul began.

"This is a great day," said Doctor Johnson, assisting himself copiously to the olives.

"Yes," said Columbus, who was also a guest"yes, it is a great day, but it isn't a marker to a little day in

"Still sore on that point?" queried Confucius, trying the edge of his knife on the shade of a salted almond.

"Oh no," said Columbus, calmly. "I don't feel jealous of Washington. He is the Father of his Country and I

am not. I only discovered the orphan. I knew the country before it had a father or a mother. There wasn't

anybody who was willing to be even a sister to it when I knew it. But G. W. here took it in hand, groomed it

down, spanked it when it needed it, and started it off on the career which has made it worth while for me to

"I am sure I don't know why anybody anywhere should be jealous of anybody else anyhow," said Diogenes.

"I never was and I never expect to be. Jealousy is a quality that is utterly foreign to the nature of an honest

man. Take my own case, for instance. When I was what they call alive, how did I live?"

"I don't know," said Doctor Johnson, turning his head as he spoke so that Boswell could not fail to hear. "I

Boswell nodded approvingly, chuckled slightly, and put the Doctor's remark down for publication in The

"You're doubtless right, there," retorted Diogenes. "What you don't know would fill a circulating library.

WellI lived in a tub. Now, if I believed in envy, I suppose you think I'd be envious of people who live in

"I'd rather live under a mortgage than in a tub," said Bonaparte, contemptuously.

"I know you would," said Diogenes. "Mortgages never bothered you but I wouldn't. In the first place, my

tub was warm. I never saw a house with a brownstone front that was, except in summer, and then the owner

cursed it because it was so. My tub had no plumbing in it to get out of order. It hadn't any flights of stairs in it

that had to be climbed after dinner, or late at night when I came home from the club. It had no front door with

a wandering keyhole calculated to elude the key ninetynine times out of every hundred efforts to bring the

two together and reconcile their differences, in order that their owner may get into his own house late at

night. It wasn't chained down to any particular neighborhood, as are most brownstone fronts. If the

neighborhood ran down, I could move my tub off into a better neighborhood, and it never lost value through

the deterioration of its location. I never had to pay taxes on it, and no burglar was ever so hard up that he

thought of breaking into my habitation to rob me. So why should I be jealous of the brownstone house

dwellers? I am a philosopher, gentlemen. I tell you, philosophy is the thief of jealousy, and I had the

"There is much in what you say," said Confucius. "But there's another side to the matter. If a man is an

aristocrat by nature, as I was, his neighborhood never could run down. Wherever he lived would be the swell

"Stewed icicles are pretty good, though," said Baron Munchausen, with an ecstatic smack of his lips. "I've

"I have no doubt of it," put in Doctor Johnson. "You've eaten fried pyramids in Africa, too, haven't you?"

"Only once," said the Baron, calmly. "And I can't say I enjoyed them. They are rather heavy for the

"Not raw," said Ptolemy, with a chuckle. "Though I've been tempted many a time to call for a second joint of

"I think it is too bad," said the Baron, as the laughter subsided"I think it is very much too bad that you

shades have brought mundane prejudice with you into this sphere. Just because some people with finite

minds profess to disbelieve my stories, you think it well to be sceptical yourselves. I don't care, however,

whether you believe me or not. The fact remains that I have eaten one fried pyramid and countless stewed

icicles, and the stewed icicles were finer than any diamondback rat Confucius ever had served at a state

"Where's Shakespeare tonight?" asked Confucius, seeing that the Baron was beginning to lose his temper,

and wishing to avoid trouble by changing the subject. "Wasn't he invited, General?"

"Yes," said Washington, "he was invited, but he couldn't come. He had to go over the river to consult with an

autograph syndicate they've formed in New York. You know, his autographs sell for about one thousand

dollars apiece, and they're trying to get up a scheme whereby he shall contribute an autograph a week to the

syndicate, to be sold to the public. It seems like a rich scheme, but there's one thing in the way. Posthumous

autographs haven't very much of a market, because the mortals can't be made to believe that they are genuine;

but the syndicate has got a man at work trying to get over that. These Yankees are a mighty inventive lot, and

they think perhaps the scheme can be worked. The Yankee IS an inventive genius."

"It was a Yankee invented that tale about your not being able to prevaricate, wasn't it, George?" asked

"I'd rather have a morningglory vine than one of Shakespeare's autographs," said he. "They are far prettier,

At this point the canvasback ducks were served, one whole shade of a bird for each guest.

"Fall to, gentlemen," said Washington, gazing hungrily at his bird. "When canvasback ducks are on the table

"It is fortunate for us that we have so considerate a host," said Confucius, unfastening his robe and preparing

to do justice to the fare set before him. "I have dined often, but never before with one who was willing to let

me eat a bird like this in silence. Washington, here's to you. May your life be chequered with birthdays, and

"Well, rather," returned the Baron. "I don't see why the mortals don't erect a statue to the canvasback."

"Did anybody at this board ever have as much canvasback duck as he could eat?" asked Doctor Johnson.

"Except the mumps," retorted Munchausen. "But, honestly, I did once have as much canvasback duck as I

"It must have cost you a million," said Bonaparte. "But even then they'd be cheap, especially to a man like

yourself who could perform miracles. If I could have performed miracles with the ease which was so

"What's the odds where you died?" said Doctor Johnson. "If it hadn't been at St. Helena it would have been

somewhere else, and you'd have found death as stuffy in one place as in another."

"Don't let's talk of death," said Washington. "I am sure the Baron's tale of how he came to have enough

"It happened this way," said Munchausen. "I was out for sport, and I got it. I was alone, my servant having

fallen ill, which was unfortunate, since I had always left the filling of my cartridgebox to him, and

underestimated its capacity. I started at six in the morning, and, not having hunted for several months, was

not in very good form, so, no game appearing for a time, I took a few practice shots, trying to snip off the

slender tops of the pinetrees that I encountered with my bullets, succeeding tolerably well for one who was

a little rusty, bringing down ninetynine out of the first one hundred and one, and missing the remaining two

by such a close margin that they swayed to and fro as though fanned by a slight breeze. As I fired my one

hundred and first shot what should I see before me but a flock of these delicate birds floating upon the placid

"Was this the Bay of Biscay, Baron?" queried Columbus, with a covert smile at Ptolemy.

"I counted them," said the Baron, ignoring the question, "and there were just sixtyeight. 'Here's a chance for

the record, Baron,' said I to myself, and then I made ready to shoot them. Imagine my dismay, gentlemen,

when I discovered that while I had plenty of powder left I had used up all my bullets. Now, as you may

imagine, to a man with no bullets at hand, the sight of sixtyeight fat canvasbacks is hardly encouraging,

but I was resolved to have every one of those birds; the question was, how shall I do it? I never can think on

water, so I paddled quietly ashore and began to reflect. As I lay there deep in thought, I saw lying upon the

beach before me a superb oyster, and as reflection makes me hungry I seized upon the bivalve and swallowed

him. As he went down something stuck in my throat, and, extricating it, what should it prove to be but a pearl

of surpassing beauty. My first thought was to be content with my day's find. A pearl worth thousands surely

was enough to satisfy the most ardent lover of sport; but on looking up I saw those ducks still paddling

contentedly about, and I could not bring myself to give them up. Suddenly the idea came, the pearl is as large

as a bullet, and fully as round. Why not use it? Then, as thoughts come to me in shoals, I next reflected,

'Ahbut this is only one bullet as against sixtyeight birds:' immediately a third thought came, 'why not

shoot them all with a single bullet? It is possible, though not probable.' I snatched out a pad of paper and a

pencil, made a rapid calculation based on the doctrine of chances, and proved to my own satisfaction that at

some time or another within the following two weeks those birds would doubtless be sitting in a straight line

and paddling about, Indian file, for an instant. I resolved to await that instant. I loaded my gun with the pearl

and a sufficient quantity of powder to send the charge through every one of the ducks if, perchance, the first

duck were properly hit. To pass over wearisome details, let me say that it happened just as I expected. I had

one week and six days to wait, but finally the critical moment came. It was at midnight, but fortunately the

moon was at the full, and I could see as plainly as though it had been day. The moment the ducks were in line

I aimed and fired. They every one squawked, turned over, and died. My pearl had pierced the whole

"That," said Munchausen, "was the most interesting part of the story. I had made a second calculation in order

to save the pearl. I deduced the amount of powder necessary to send the gem through sixty seven and a half

birds, and my deduction was strictly accurate. It fulfilled its mission of death on sixtyseven and was found

buried in the heart of the sixtyeighth, a trifle discolored, but still a pearl, and worth a king's ransom."

Napoleon gave a derisive laugh, and the other guests sat with incredulity depicted upon every line of their

"Why not?" asked the Baron. "Is there anything improbable in it? Why should you disbelieve it? Look at our

friend Washington here. Is there any one here who knows more about truth than he does? He doesn't

disbelieve it. He's the only man at this table who treats me like a man of honor."

"Well, Washington, let me put the direct question to you," said the Baron. "Say you aren't host and are under

no obligation to be courteous. Do you believe I haven't been telling the truth?"

"My dear Munchausen," said the General, "don't ask me. I'm not an authority. I can't tell a lienot even

when I hear one. If you say your story is true, I must believe it, of course; butahreally, if I were you, I

wouldn't tell it again unless I could produce the pearl and the wishbone of one of the ducks at least."

Whereupon, as the discussion was beginning to grow acrimonious, Washington hailed Charon, and, ordering

a boat, invited his guests to accompany him over into the world of realities, where they passed the balance of

It was a beautiful night on the Styx, and the silvery surface of that picturesque stream was dotted with

gondolas, canoes, and other craft to an extent that made Charon feel like a highly prosperous savings bank.

Within the houseboat were gathered a merry party, some of whom were on mere pleasure bent, others of

whom had come to listen to a debate, for which the entertainment committee had provided, between the

venerable patriarch Noah and the late eminent showman P. T. Barnum. The question to be debated was upon

the resolution passed by the committee, that "The Animals of the Antediluvian Period were Far More

Attractive for Show Purposes than those of Modern Make," and, singular to relate, the affirmative was placed

in the hands of Mr. Barnum, while to Noah had fallen the task of upholding the virtues of the modern freak. It

is with the party on mere pleasure bent that we have to do upon this occasion. The proceedings of the

debatingparty are as yet in the hands of the official stenographer, but will be made public as soon as they are

The pleasureseeking group were gathered in the smokingroom of the club, which was, indeed, a

smokingroom of a novel sort, the invention of an unknown shade, who had sold all the rights to the club

through a third party, anonymously, preferring, it seemed, to remain in the Elysian world, as he had been in

the mundane sphere, a mute inglorious Edison. It was a simple enough scheme, and, for a wonder, no one in

the world of substantialities has thought to take it up. The smoke was stored in reservoirs, just as if it were so

much gas or water, and was supplied on the hotair furnace principle from a huge furnace in the hold of the

houseboat, into which tobacco was shovelled by the hired man of the club night and day. The smoke from

the furnace, carried through flues to the smokingroom, was there received and stored in the reservoirs, with

each of which was connected one dozen rubber tubes, having at their ends amber mouth pieces. Upon each

of these mouthpieces was arranged a small meter registering the amount of smoke consumed through it, and

for this the consumer paid so much a foot. The value of the plan was threefold. It did away entirely with

ashes, it saved to the consumers the value of the unconsumed tobacco that is represented by the unsmoked

Enjoying the benefits of this arrangement upon the evening in question were Shakespeare, Cicero, Henry

VIII., Doctor Johnson, and others. Of course Boswell was present too, for a moment, with his notebook, and

"You ought to be upstairs in the lectureroom, Boswell," said Shakespeare, as the great biographer took his

seat behind his friend the Doctor. "Doesn't the Gossip want a report of the debate?"

"It does," said Boswell; "but the Gossip endeavors always to get the most interesting items of the day, and

Doctor Johnson has informed me that he expects to be unusually witty this evening, so I have come here."

"Excuse me for saying it, Boswell," said the Doctor, getting red in the face over this unexpected confession,

"That's good," said Cicero. "Stick that down, Boz, and print it. It's the best thing Johnson has said this week."

Boswell smiled weakly, and said: "But, Doctor, you did say that, you know. I can prove it, too, for you told

me some of the things you were going to say. Don't you remember, you were going to lead Shakespeare up to

making the remark that he thought the English language was the greatest language in creation, whereupon

"Get out of here, you idiot!" roared the Doctor. "You're enough to give a man apoplexy."

"You're not going back on the ladder by which you have climbed, are you, Samuel?" queried Boswell,

"The whaat?" cried the Doctor, angrily. "The ladderon which I climbed? You? Great heavens! That it

should come to this! . . . Leave the roominstantly! Ladder! By all that is beautifulthe ladder upon which

I, Samuel Johnson, the tallest person in letters, have climbed! Go! Do you hear?"

"That's one on you, Doctor," said Cicero, wrapping his toga about him. "I think you ought to order up three

"I'll order up three baskets full of Boswell's remains if he ever dares speak like that again!" retorted the

"You were a little hard on him, Doctor," said Henry VIII. "He was a valuable man to you. He had a great eye

"Yes. If there's any feature of Boswell that's greater than his nose and ears, it's his great I," said the Doctor.

The Doctor waved his hand impatiently. "Let's drop him," he said. "Dropping one's biographer isn't without

precedent. As soon as any man ever got to know Napoleon well enough to write him up he sent him to the

"I wish I had had a Boswell all the same," said Shakespeare. "Then the world would have known the truth

"It wouldn't if he'd relied on your word for it," retorted the Doctor. "Hullo! here's Hamlet."

As the Doctor spoke, in very truth the melancholy Dane appeared in the doorway, more melancholy of aspect

"What's the matter with you?" asked Cicero, addressing the newcomer. "Haven't you got that poison out of

"Not entirely," said Hamlet, with a sigh; "but it isn't that that's bothering me. It's Fate."

"We'll get out an injunction against Fate if you like," said Blackstone. "Is it persecution, or have you deserved

"I think it's persecution," said Hamlet. "I never wronged Fate in my life, and why she should pursue me like a

"Maybe Ophelia is back of it," suggested Doctor Johnson. "These women have a great deal of sympathy for

each other, and, candidly, I think you behaved pretty rudely to Ophelia. It's a poor way to show your love for

a young woman, running a sword through her father every night for pay, and driving the girl to suicide with

equal frequency, just to show theatregoers what a smart little Dane you can be if you try."

"'Tisn't me does all that," returned Hamlet. "I only did it once, and even then it wasn't as bad as Shakespeare

"I put it down just as it was," said Shakespeare, hotly, "and you can't dispute it."

"Yes, he can," said Yorick. "You made him tell Horatio he knew me well, and he never met me in his life."

"I never told Horatio anything of the sort," said Hamlet. "I never entered the graveyard even, and I can prove

"And, what's more, he couldn't have made the remark the way Shakespeare has it, anyhow," said Yorick, "and

for a very good reason. I wasn't buried in that graveyard, and Hamlet and I can prove an alibi for the skull,

"Well, if you don't talk in your sleep, the play did a Christian service to the world," retorted Shakespeare.

"But, really, Hamlet, I thought I did the square thing by you in that play. I meant to, anyhow; and if it has

"I don't mind the play so much," said Hamlet, "but the way I'm represented by these fellows who play it is the

thing that rubs me the wrong way. Why, I even hear that there's a troupe out in the western part of the United

States that puts the thing on with three Hamlets, two ghosts, and a pair of bloodhounds. It's called the

UncleTomHamlet Combination, and instead of my falling in love with one crazy Ophelia, I am made to

woo three dusky maniacs named Topsy on a canvas icefloe, while the bloodhounds bark behind the scenes.

"It's pretty rough," said Napoleon. "As the poet ought to have said, 'Oh, Hamlet, Hamlet, what crimes are

"I feel as badly about the play as Hamlet does," said Shakespeare, after a moment of silent thought. "I don't

bother much about this wild Western business, though, because I think the introduction of the bloodhounds

and the Topsies makes us both more popular in that region than we should be otherwise. What I object to is

the way we are treated by these socalled firstclass intellectual actors in London and other great cities. I've

seen Hamlet done before a highly cultivated audience, and, by Jove, it made me blush."

"Me too," sighed Hamlet. "I have seen a man who had a walk on him that suggested springhalt and

locomotor ataxia combined impersonating my graceful self in a manner that drove me almost crazy. I've

heard my 'To be or not to be' soliloquy uttered by a famous tragedian in tones that would make a graveyard

yawn at mid day, and if there was any way in which I could get even with that man I'd do it."

"It seems to me," said Blackstone, assuming for the moment a highly judicial manner"it seems to me that

"But how?" said Shakespeare, earnestly. "That's the point. Heaven knows I'm willing enough."

Hamlet's face suddenly brightened as though illuminated with an idea. Then he began to dance about the

"I wish Darwin could see you now," the Doctor growled. "A kodak picture of you would prove his arguments

"Rail on, O philosopher!" retorted Hamlet. "Rail on! I mind your railings not, for I the germ of an idea have

"Well, go quarantine yourself," said the Doctor. "I'd hate to have one of your idea microbes get hold of me."

"You can write a play for ME!" cried Hamlet. "Make it a farce tragedy. Take the modern player for your

hero, and let ME play HIM. I'll bait him through four acts. I'll imitate his walk. I'll cultivate his voice. We'll

have the first act a tank act, and drop the hero into the tank. The second act can be in a sawmill, and we can

cut his hair off on a buzzsaw. The third act can introduce a spiledriver with which to drive his hat over his

eyes and knock his brains down into his lungs. The fourth act can be at Niagara Falls, and we'll send him over

the falls; and for a grand climax we can have him guillotined just after he has swallowed a quart of prussic

acid and a spoonful of powdered glass. Do that for me, William, and you are forgiven. I'll play it for six

hundred nights in London, for two years in New York, and round up with a onenight stand in Boston."

"It sounds like a good scheme," said Shakespeare, meditatively. "What shall we call it?"

And as the sun rose upon the Styx the next morning the Bard of Avon was to be seen writing a comic chorus

to be sung over the moribund tragedian by the shades of Charles, Aram, and other eminent deceased heroes

of the stage, with which his new play of Irving was to be brought to an appropriate close.

This play has not as yet found its way upon the boards, but any enterprising manager who desires to consider

He is sure to get a reply by return mail, unless Mephistopheles interferes, which is not unlikely, since

Mephistopheles is said to have been much pleased with the manner in which the eminent tragedian has put

"There's one thing this houseboat needs," wrote Homer in the complaintbook that adorned the centretable

in the readingroom, "and that is a Poets' Corner. There are smokingrooms for those who smoke,

billiardrooms for those who play billiards, and a cardroom for those who play cards. I do not smoke, I can't

play billiards, and I do not know a trey of diamonds from a silver salver. All I can do is write poetry. Why

discriminate against me? By all means let us have a Poets' Corner, where a man can be inspired in peace."

For four days this entry lay in the book apparently unnoticed. On the fifth day the following lines, signed by

"I approve of Homer's suggestion. There should be a Poets' Corner here. Then the rest of us could have some

comfort. While playing vingtetun with Diogenes in the cardroom on Friday evening a poetic member of

this club was taken with a most violent fancy, and it required the combined efforts of Diogenes and myself,

assisted by the janitor, to remove the frenzied and objectionable member from the room. The habit some of

our poets have acquired of giving way to their inspirations all over the clubhouse should be stopped, and I

know of no better way to accomplish this desirable end than by the adoption of Homer's suggestion.

Of course the suggestion of two members so prominent as Homer and Samson could not well he ignored by

the house committee, and it reluctantly took the subject in hand at an early meeting.

"I find here," said Demosthenes to the chairman, as the committee gathered, "a suggestion from Homer and

Samson that this houseboat be provided with a Poets' Corner. I do not know that I approve of the suggestion

myself, but in order to bring it before the committee for debate I am willing to make a motion that the request

"Excuse me," put in Doctor Johnson, "but where do you find that suggestion? 'Here' is not very definite.

"In the complaintbook, which I hold in my hand," returned Demosthenes, putting a pebble in his mouth so

"In the complaintbook, eh?" he said, slowly. "I thought house committees were not expected to pay any

attention to complaints in complaintbooks. I never heard of its being done before."

"Well, I can't say that I have either," replied Demosthenes, chewing thoughtfully on the pebble, "but I

suppose complaintbooks are the places for complaints. You don't expect people to write serial stories or

"That isn't the point, as the man said to the assassin who tried to stab him with the hilt of his dagger," retorted

Doctor Johnson, with some asperity. "Of course, complaintbooks are for the reception of

complaintsnobody disputes that. What I want to have determined is whether it is necessary or proper for

"I fancy we have a legal right to take the matter up," said Blackstone, wearily; "though I don't know of any

precedent for such action. In all the clubs I have known the house committees have invariably taken the

ground that the complaintbook was established to guard them against the annoyance of hearing complaints.

This one, however, has been forced upon us by our secretary, and in view of the age of the complainants I

think we cannot well decline to give them a specific answer. Respect for age is de rigueur at all times, like

"I think the Poets' Corner entirely unnecessary," said Confucius. "This isn't a class organization, and we

should resist any effort to make it or any portion of it so. In fact, I will go further and state that it is my

opinion that if we do any legislating in the matter at all, we ought to discourage rather than encourage these

poets. They are always littering the club up with themselves. Only last Wednesday I came here with a

guestno less a person than a recently deceased Emperor of Chinaand what was the first sight that

"I give it up," said Doctor Johnson. "It must have been a catacornered sight, whatever it was, if the Emperor's

"No personalities, please, Doctor," said Sir Walter Raleigh, the chairman, rapping the table vigorously with

"Omar Khayyam stretched over five of the most comfortable chairs in the library," returned Confucius; "and

when I ventured to remonstrate with him he lost his temper, and said I'd spoiled the whole second volume of

the Rubaiyat. I told him he ought to do his rubaiyatting at home, and he made a scene, to avoid which I

hastened with my guest over to the billiardroom; and there, stretched at full length on the pooltable, was

Robert Burns trying to write a sonnet on the cloth with chalk in less time than Villon could turn out another,

with two lines start, on the billiardtable with the same writing materials. Now I ask you, gentlemen, if these

things are to be tolerated? Are they not rather to be reprehended, whether I am a Chinaman or not?"

"What would you have us do, then?" asked Sir Walter Raleigh, a little nettled. "Exclude poets altogether? I

"No," said Confucius. "I don't want them excluded, but they should be controlled. You don't let a shoemaker

who has become a member of this club turn the library sofas into benches and go pegging away at

bootmaking, so why should you let the poets turn the place into a verse factory? That's what I'd like to

"I don't know but what your point is well taken," said Blackstone, "though I can't say I think your parallels

are very parallel. A shoemaker, my dear Confucius, is somewhat different from a poet."

"Certainly," said Doctor Johnson. "Very differentin fact, different enough to make a conundrum of the

questionwhat is the difference between a shoemaker and a poet? One makes the shoes and the other shakes

the museall the difference in the world. Still, I don't see how we can exclude the poets. It is the very

democracy of this club that gives it life. We take in everybodypeer, poet, or what not. To say that this man

shall not enter because he is this or that or the other thing would result in our ultimately becoming a class

organization, which, as Confucius himself says, we are not and must not be. If we put out the poet to please

the sage, we'll soon have to put out the sage to please the fool, and so on. We'll keep it up, once the precedent

is established, until finally it will become a class club entirelya Plumbers' Club, for instanceand how

absurd that would be in Hades! No, gentlemen, it can't be done. The poets must and shall be preserved."

"What's the objection to class clubs, anyhow?" asked Cassius. "I don't object to them. If we could have had

political organizations in my day I might not have had to fall on my sword to get out of keeping an

"No doubt," said Demosthenes. "Have all the class clubs you want, but do not make one of this. An Authors'

Club, where none but authors are admitted, is a good thing. The members learn there that there are other

authors than themselves. Poets' Clubs are a good thing; they bring poets into contact with each other, and they

learn what a bore it is to have to listen to a poet reading his own poem. Pugilists' Clubs are good; so are all

other class clubs; but so also are clubs like our own, which takes in all who are worthy. Here a poet can talk

poetry as much as he wants, but at the same time he hears something besides poetry. We must stick to our

"Then let us do something to abate the nuisance of which I complain," said Confucius. "Can't we adopt a

house rule that poets must not be inspired between the hours of 11 A.M. and 5 P.M., or in the evening after

eight; that any poet discovered using more than five armchairs in the composition of a quatrain will be

charged two oboli an hour for each chair in excess of that number; and that the billiardmarker shall be

required to charge a premium of three times the ordinary fee for tables used by versifiers in lieu of

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," said Sir Walter Raleigh. "I, as a poet would not object to that. I do all my work

"There's another phase of this business that we haven't considered yet, and it's rather important," said

Demosthenes, taking a fresh pebble out of his bonbonniere. "That's in the matter of stationery. This club, like

all other wellregulated clubs, provides its members with a suitable supply of writing materials. Charon

informs me that the wastebaskets last week turned out fortytwo reams of our best correspondence paper on

which these poets had scribbled the first draft of their verses. Now I don't think the club should furnish the

poets with the raw material for their poems any more than, to go back to Confucius's shoemaker, it should

"Doesn't it take brains to make a pair of shoes?" retorted Demosthenes, swallowing a pebble in his haste.

"They've got a right to the stationery, though," put in Blackstone. "A clear legal right to it. If they choose to

write poems on the paper instead of boring people to death with letters, as most of us do, that's their own

"We can meet that easily enough," observed Cassius. "Furnish each writingtable with a slate. I should think

"Most poets prefer to rub out the right word," growled Confucius. "Besides, I shall never consent to slates in

this houseboat. The squeaking of the pencils would be worse than the poems themselves."

"That's true," said Cassius. "I never thought of that. If a dozen poets got to work on those slates at once, a fife

"Well, it all goes to prove what I have thought all along," said Doctor Johnson. "Homer's idea is a good one,

and Samson was wise in backing it up. The poets need to be concentrated somewhere where they will not be

a nuisance to other people, and where other people will not be a nuisance to them. Homer ought to have a

place to compose in where the vingtetun players will not interrupt his frenzies, and, on the other hand, the

vingtetun and other players should be protected from the wooers of the muse. I'll vote to have the Poets'

Corner, and in it I move that Cassius's slate idea be carried out. It will be a great saving, and if the corner we

select be far enough away from the other corners of the club, the squeaking of the slatepencils need bother

"I agree to that," said Blackstone. "Only I think it should be understood that, in granting the petition of the

poets, we do not bind ourselves to yield to doctors and lawyers and shoemakers and plumbers in case they

"A very wise idea," said Sir Walter. Whereupon the resolution was suitably worded, and passed unanimously.

Just where the Poets' Corner is to be located the members of the committee have not as yet decided, although

Confucius is strongly in favor of having it placed in a dingy situated a quarter of a mile astern of the

houseboat, and connected therewith by a slight cord, which can be easily cut in case the squeaking of the

poets' slate pencils becomes too much for the nervous system of the members who have no corner of their

"I observe," said Doctor Darwin, looking up from a perusal of an asbestos copy of the London Times"I

observe that an American professor has discovered that monkeys talk. I consider that a very interesting fact."

"It undoubtedly is," observed Doctor Livingstone, "though hardly new. I never said anything about it over in

the other world, but I discovered years ago in Africa that monkeys were quite as well able to hold a sustained

"And I, too," put in Baron Munchausen, "have frequently conversed with monkeys. I made myself a master of

their idioms during my brief sojourn inahinwell, never mind where. I never could remember the

names of places. The interesting point is that at one period of my life I was a master of the monkey language.

I have even gone so far as to write a sonnet in Simian, which was quite as intelligible to the uneducated as

"Do you mean to say that you could acquire the monkey accent?" asked Doctor Darwin, immediately

"In most instances," returned the Baron, suavely, "though of course not in all. I found the same difficulty in

some cases that the German or the Chinaman finds when he tries to speak French. A Chinaman can no more

say Trocadero, for instance, as the Frenchman says it, than he can fly. That peculiar throaty aspirate the

Frenchman gives to the first syllable, as though it were spelled trhoque, is utterly beyond the Chineseand

beyond the American, too, whose idea of the tonsillar aspirate leads him to speak of the trochedeero,

naturally falling back upon troches to help him out of his laryngeal difficulties."

"You ought to have been on the staff of Punch, Baron," said Thackeray, quietly. "That joke would have made

"I AM immortal," said the Baron. "But to return to our discussion of the Simian tongue: as I was saying, there

were some little points about the accent that I could never get, and, as in the case of the German and

Chinaman with the French language, the trouble was purely physical. When you consider that in polite

Simian society most of the talkers converse while swinging by their tails from the limb of a tree, with a sort

of droning accent, which results from their swaying to and fro, you will see at once why it was that I,

deprived by nature of the necessary apparatus with which to suspend myself in midair, was unable to quite

"I should hardly think that a man of your fertile resources would have let so small a thing as that stand in his

way," said Doctor Livingstone. "When a man is able to make a reputation for himself like yours, in which

material facts are never allowed to interfere with his doing what he sets out to do, he ought not to be daunted

by the need of a tail. If you could make a cherrytree grow out of a deer's head, I fail to see why you could

not personally grow a tail, or anything else you might happen to need for the attainment of your ends."

"I was not so anxious to get the accent as all that," returned the Baron. "I don't think it is necessary for a man

to make a monkey of himself just for the pleasure of mastering a language. Reasoning similarly, a man to

master the art of braying in a fashion comprehensible to the jackass of average intellect should make a

jackass of himself, cultivate his ears, and learn to kick, so as properly to punctuate his sentences after the

"Why not?" said the Baron. "If monkeys, why not donkeys? Certainly they do. All creatures have some

means of communicating their thoughts to each other. Why man in his conceit should think otherwise I don't

know, unless it be that the birds and beasts in their conceit probably think that they alone of all the creatures

"I haven't a doubt," said Doctor Livingstone, "that monkeys listening to men and women talking think they

"They're not far from wrong in most cases if they do," said Doctor Johnson, who up to this time had been

"Which is perhaps, in a slight degree, a confirmation of my theory," put in Darwin. "If Doctor Johnson's mind

runs in the same channels that the monkey's mind runs in, why may we not say that Doctor Johnson, being a

man, has certain qualities of the monkey, and is therefore, in a sense, of the same strain?"

"You may say what you please," retorted Johnson, wrathfully, "but I'll make you prove what you say about

"I wouldn't if I were you," said Doctor Livingstone, in a peace making spirit. "It would not be a pleasant

task for you, compelling our friend to prove you descended from the ape. I should think you'd prefer to make

"No more do I," said Darwin, "and I didn't mean to be offensive, my dear Johnson. If I claim Simian ancestry

"Well, I'm no snob," said Johnson, unmollified. "If you want to brag about your ancestors, do it. Leave mine

"Well, I believe fully that we are all descended from the ape," said Munchausen. "There isn't any doubt in my

mind that before the flood all men had tails. Noah had a tail. Shem, Ham, and Japheth had tails. It's perfectly

reasonable to believe it. The Ark in a sense proved it. It would have been almost impossible for Noah and his

sons to construct the Ark in the time they did with the assistance of only two hands apiece. Think, however,

of how fast they could work with the assistance of that third arm. Noah could hammer a clapboard on to the

Ark with two hands while grasping a saw and cutting a new board or planing it off with his tail. So with the

"But how do you account for its disappearance?" put in Doctor Livingstone. "Is it likely they would dispense

"No, it isn't; but there are various ways of accounting for its loss," said Munchausen. "They may have

overworked it building the Ark; Shem, Ham, or Japheth may have had his caught in the door of the Ark and

cut off in the hurry of the departure; plenty of things may have happened to eliminate it. Men lose their hair

and their teeth; why might not a man lose a tail? Scientists say that coming generations far in the future will

be toothless and bald. Why may it not be that through causes unknown to us we are similarly deprived of

"The only reason for man's losing his hair is that he wears a hat all the time," said Livingstone. "The Derby

hat is the enemy of hair. It is hot, and dries up the scalp. You might as well try to raise watermelons in the

Desert of Sahara as to try to raise hair under the modern hat. In fact, the modern hat is a furnace."

"Well, it's a mighty good furnace," observed Munchausen. "You don't have to put coal on the modern hat."

"I believe that the forbidden tree was a tender one, and therefore the only one upon which Adam was

"But that the possession of tails by Adam and Eve entailed a love of swinging thereby, and that they could

not resist the temptation to swing from every limb in Eden, and that therefore, while Adam was off swinging

on other trees, Eve took a swing on the forbidden tree; that Adam, returning, caught her in the act, and

"Not a bit of it," Johnson answered. "The serpent was the tail. Look at most snakes today. What are they but

"Why, it's clear as day," said Johnson. "As punishment Adam and Eve lost their tails, and the tail itself was

"I believe to be the missing tails of men," said Johnson. "Somewhere in the world is a tail for every man and

woman and child. Where one's tail is no one can ever say, but that it exists simultaneously with its owner I

believe. The abhorrence man has for snakes is directly attributable to his abhorrence for all things which have

deprived him of something that is good. If Adam's tail had not tempted him to swing on the forbidden tree,

we should all of us have been able through life to relax from business cares after the manner of the monkey,

"Well, I can't see that it does us any good to sit here and discuss this matter," said Doctor Livingstone. "We

can't reach any conclusion. The only way to settle the matter, it seems to me, is to go directly to Adam, who

"That's a great idea," said Thackeray, scornfully. "You'd look well going up to a man and saying, 'Excuse me,

"To say nothing of catechising a man on the subject of an old and dreadful scandal," put in Munchausen. "I'm

surprised at you, Livingstone. African etiquette seems to have ruined your sense of propriety."

"I'd just as lief ask him," said Doctor Johnson. "Etiquette? Bah! What business has etiquette to stand in the

way of human knowledge? Conventionality is the last thing men of brains should strive after, and I, for one,

Here Doctor Johnson touched the electric bell, and in an instant the shade of a buttons appeared.

"Yes; but the service in this club is dreadful, considering what we might have," said Darwin. "With Aladdin a

member of this club, I don't see why we can't have his lamp with genii galore to respond. It certainly would

"True; but I, for one, don't care to fool with genii," said Munchausen. "When one member can summon a

servant who is strong enough to take another member and do him up in a bottle and cast him into the sea, I

have no use for the system. Plain ordinary mortal shades are good enough for me."

"Mr. Adam isn't here today, sir," he said, addressing Doctor Johnson. "And Charon says he's not likely to be

here, sir, seeing as how his account is closed, not having been settled for three months."

"Good," said Thackeray. "I was afraid he was here. I don't want to have him asked about his Eden

"Well, then, there's only one other thing to do," said Darwin. "Munchausen claims to be able to speak Simian.

He might seek out some of the prehistoric monkeys and put the question to them."

"No, thank you," said Munchausen. "I'm a little rusty in the language, and, besides, you talk like an idiot. You

might as well speak of the human language as the Simian language. There are French monkeys who speak

monkey French, African monkeys who talk the most barbarous kind of Zulu monkey patois, and Congo

monkey slang, and so on. Let Johnson send his little Boswell out to drum up information. If there is anything

to be found out he'll get it, and then he can tell it to us. Of course he may get it all wrong, but it will be

Which seemed to the others a good idea, but whatever came of it I have not been informed.

"I met Queen Elizabeth just now on the Row," said Raleigh, as he entered the houseboat and checked his

"Indeed?" said Confucius. "What if you did? Other people have met Queen Elizabeth. There's nothing

"True; but she made a suggestion to me about this houseboat which I think is a good one. She says the

"Thus proving that immortal woman is no different from mortal woman," retorted Confucius. "They want to

"Well, I am sure I don't see why men should arrogate to themselves the sole right to an investigating turn of

mind," said Raleigh, impatiently. "Why shouldn't the ladies want to see the inside of this clubhouse? It is a

compliment to us that they should, and I for one am in favor of letting them, and I am going to propose that in

"Then I shall go South for my health in the Ides of March," said Confucius, angrily. "What on earth is a club

for if it isn't to enable men to get away from their wives once in a while? When do people go to clubs? When

they are on their way homethat's when; and the more a man's at home in his club, the less he's at home

when he's at home. I suppose you'll be suggesting a children's day next, and after that a parrot's or a

"I had no idea you were such a womanhater," said Raleigh, in astonishment. "What's the matter? Were you

"I? How absurd!" retorted Confucius, reddening. "The idea of MY ever being disappointed in love! I never

met the woman who could bring me to my knees, although I was married in the other world. What became of

Mrs. C. I never inquired. She may be in China yet, for aught I know. I regard death as a divorce."

"Your wife must be glad of it," said Raleigh, somewhat ungallantly; for, to tell the truth, he was nettled by

Confucius's demeanor. "I didn't know, however, but that since you escaped from China and came here to

Hades you might have fallen in love with some spirit of an age subsequent to your ownMary Queen of

Scots, or Joan of Arc, or some other spookwho rejected you. I can't account for your dislike of women

"Not I," said Confucius. "Hades would have a less classic name than it has for me if I were hampered with a

family. But go along and have your ladies' day here, and never mind my reasons for preferring my own

society to that of the fair sex. I can at least stay at home that day. What do you propose to dothrow open

the house to the wives of members, or to all ladies, irrespective of their husbands' membership here?"

"I think the latter plan would be the better," said Raleigh. "Otherwise Queen Elizabeth, to whom I am

"Didn't she?" said Confucius. "No, I didn't know it; but that doesn't prove anything. When I went to school

we didn't study the history of the Elizabethan period. She didn't have absolute sway over England, then?"

"Do you mean to say that she lived and died an old maid from choice?" demanded Confucius.

"For a very good and sufficient reason," retorted Confucius, "which is, in brief, that I am not a marine. I may

dislike women, my dear Raleigh, but I know them better than you do, gallant as you are; and when you tell

me in one and the same moment that a woman holding absolute sway over men yet lived and died an old

maid, you must not be indignant if I smile and bite the end of my thumb, which is the Chinese way of saying

"Believe it or not, you poor old back number," retorted Raleigh, hotly. "It alters nothing. Queen Elizabeth

could have married a hundred times over if she had wished. I know I lost my head there completely."

"That shows, Sir Walter," said Dryden, with a grin, "how wrong you are. You lost your head to King James.

Raleigh's face flushed scarlet. "'Tis better to have had a head and lost it," he cried, "than never to have had a

head at all! Mark you, Dryden, my boy, it ill befits you to scoff at me for my misfortune, for dust thou art,

and to dust thou hast returned, if word from t'other side about thy books and that which in and on them lies be

"Whate'er be said about my books," said Dryden, angrily, "be they read or be they not, 'tis mine they are, and

"Thus proving that men, thank Heaven, are still sane," ejaculated Doctor Johnson. "To assume the authorship

"Shades of the mighty Chow!" cried Confucius. "An' will ye hear the poets squabble! Egad! A ladies' day

"We're all getting a little highflown in our phraseology," put in Shakespeare at this point. "Let's quit talking

in blankverse and come down to business. _I_ think a ladies' day would be great sport. I'll write a poem to

"Then I oppose it with all my heart," said Doctor Johnson. "Why do you always want to make our

entertainments commonplace? Leave occasional poems to mortals. I never knew an occasional poem yet that

"That's precisely why I want to write one occasional poem. I'd make it worthy," Shakespeare answered. "Like

Most fair, most sweet, most beauteous of ladies, The greatest charm in all ye realm of Hades.

Why, my dear Doctor, such an opportunity for rhyming Hades with ladies should not be lost."

"That just proves what I said," said Johnson. "Any idiot can make ladies rhyme with Hades. It requires

absolute genius to avoid the temptation. You are great enough to make Hades rhyme with bicycle if you

choose to do itbut no, you succumb to the temptation to be commonplace. Bah! One of these modern

"On general principles," said Raleigh, "Johnson is right. We invite these people here to see our clubhouse,

not to give them an exhibition of our metrical powers, and I think all exercises of a formal nature should be

"Very well," said Shakespeare. "Go ahead. Have your own way about it. Get out your brow and frown. I'm

perfectly willing to save myself the trouble of writing a poem. Writing real poetry isn't easy, as you fellows

"To pass over the arrogant assumption of the gentleman who has just spoken, with the silence due to a proper

expression of our contempt therefor," said Dryden, slowly, "I think in case we do have a ladies' day here we

should exercise a most careful supervision over the invitation list. For instance, wouldn't it be awkward for

our good friend Henry the Eighth to encounter the various Mrs. Henrys here? Would it not likewise be

"Your point is well taken," said Doctor Johnson. "I don't know whether the King's matrimonial ventures are

on speaking terms with each other or not, but under any circumstances it would hardly be a pleasing spectacle

for Katharine of Arragon to see Henry running his legs off getting cream and cakes for Anne Boleyn; nor

would Anne like it much if, on the other hand, Henry chose to behave like a gentleman and a husband to Jane

Seymour or Katharine Parr. I think, if the members themselves are to send out the invitations, they should

each be limited to two cards, with the express understanding that no member shall be permitted to invite more

"That's going to be awkward," said Raleigh, scratching his head thoughtfully. "Henry is such a hotheaded

"I think he would," said Confucius. "I think he'd be as mad as a hatter at your insinuation that he would invite

any of his wives, if all I hear of him is true; and what I've heard, Wolsey has told me."

"He knew a thing or two about Henry," said Shakespeare. "If you don't believe it, just read that play of mine

"You came near giving your secret away that time, William," said Johnson, with a sly smile, and giving the

"Secret! I haven't any secret," said Shakespeare, a little acridly. "It's the truth I'm telling you. Beaumont and

"Oh, of course, I didn't write anything, did I?" cried Shakespeare. "Everybody wrote my plays but me. I'm the

only person that had no hand in Shakespeare. It seems to me that joke is about worn out, Doctor. I'm getting a

little tired of it myself; but if it amuses you, why, keep it up. _I_ know who wrote my plays, and whatever

you may say cannot affect the facts. Next thing you fellows will be saying that I didn't write my own

"I didn't say that," said Johnson, quietly. "Only there is no internal evidence in your autographs that you knew

how to spell your name if you did. A man who signs his name Shixpur one day and Shikespeare the next

"They'd honor my check quick enough these days," retorted Shakespeare. "When a man's autograph brings

five thousand dollars, or one thousand pounds, in the auctionroom, there isn't a bank in the world fool

enough to decline to honor any check he'll sign under a thousand dollars, or two hundred pounds."

"I fancy you're right," put in Raleigh. "But your checks or your plays have nothing to do with ladies' day.

"Yes," said Confucius. "Let's. Ladies' day is becoming a dreadful bore, and if we don't hurry up the

"I agree," said Confucius, "and I'll sign it. If there's one way to avoid having ladies' day in the future, it's to

"Let him alone," said Raleigh. "He's getting sensitive about that; and what you need to learn more than

anything else is that it isn't manners to twit a man on facts. What's bothering you, Dryden? You look like a

"It has just occurred to me," said Dryden, "that while we can safely leave the question of Henry the Eighth

and his wives to the wisdom of the council, we ought to pay some attention to the advisability of inviting

Lucretia Borgia. I'd hate to eat any supper if she came within a mile of the banquetinghall. If she comes

you'll have to appoint a tasting committee before I'll touch a drop of punch or eat a speck of salad."

"We might recommend the appointment of Raleigh to look after the fair Lucretia and see that she has no

poison with her, or if she has, to keep her from dropping it into the salads," said Confucius, with a sidelong

glance at Raleigh. "He's the especial champion of woman in this club, and no doubt would be proud of the

"I would with most women," said Raleigh. "But I draw the line at Lucretia Borgia."

And so a petition was drawn up, signed, and sent to the council, and they, after mature deliberation, decided

to have the ladies' day, to which all the ladies in Hades, excepting Lucretia Borgia and Delilah, were to be

duly invited, only the date was not specified. Delilah was excluded at the request of Samson, whose

convincing muscles, rather than his arguments, completely won over all opposition to his proposition.

"It seems to me," said Shakespeare, wearily, one afternoon at the club"that this business of being immortal

is pretty dull. Didn't somebody once say he'd rather ride fifty years on a trolley in Europe than on a bicycle in

"I am not aware that I ever heard the name before," said Doctor Johnson. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Poetry," said Tennyson. "I wrote 'Locksley Hall' and 'Come into the Garden, Maude.'"

"Well, why should you have read them?" snarled Carlyle. "They were written after you moved over here, and

they were good stuff. You needn't think because you quit, the whole world put up its shutters and went out of

"Oh, as for that," retorted Doctor Johnson, with a smile, "I've heard of you; you are the man who wrote the

"Well, seven then," returned Johnson. "I never saw the work, but I heard Frederick speaking of it the other

day. Bonaparte asked him if he had read it, and Frederick said no, he hadn't time. Bonaparte cried, 'Haven't

time? Why, my dear king, you've got all eternity.' 'I know it,' replied Frederick, 'but that isn't enough. Read a

"Frederick will have his joke," said Shakespeare, with a wink at Tennyson and a smile for the two

philosophers, intended, no doubt, to put them in a more agreeable frame of mind. "Why, he even asked me

the other day why I never wrote a tragedy about him, completely ignoring the fact that he came along many

years after I had departed. I spoke of that, and he said, 'Oh, I was only joking.' I apologized. 'I didn't know

"A very rude remark," said Johnson. "As if we English were incapable of seeing a joke!"

"Exactly," put in Carlyle. "It strikes me as the absurdest notion that the Englishman can't see a joke. To the

mind that is accustomed to snap judgments I have no doubt the Englishman appears to be dull of

apprehension, but the philosophy of the whole matter is apparent to the mind that takes the trouble to

investigate. The Briton weighs everything carefully before he commits himself, and even though a certain

point may strike him as funny, he isn't going to laugh until he has fully made up his mind that it is funny. I

remember once riding down Piccadilly with Froude in a hansom cab. Froude had a copy of Punch in his hand,

and he began to laugh immoderately over something. I leaned over his shoulder to see what he was laughing

at. 'That isn't so funny,' said I, as I read the paragraph on which his eye was resting. 'No,' said Froude. 'I

wasn't laughing at that. I was enjoying the joke that appeared in the same relative position in last week's

issue.' Now that's the pointthe whole point. The Englishman always laughs over last week's Punch, not this

week's, and that is why you will find a file of that interesting journal in the home of all welltodo Britons. It

is the back number that amuses himwhich merely proves that he is a deliberative person who weighs even

"What is the average weight of a copy of Punch?" drawled Artemas Ward, who had strolled in during the

Shakespeare snickered quietly, but Carlyle and Johnson looked upon the intruder severely.

"We will take that question into consideration," said Carlyle. "Perhaps tomorrow we shall have a definite

"Never mind," returned the humorist. "You've proved your point. Tennyson tells me you find life here dull,

"Somewhat," said Shakespeare. "I don't know about the rest of you fellows, but I was not cut out for an

eternity of ease. I must have occupation, and the stage isn't popular here. The trouble about putting on a play

here is that our managers are afraid of libel suits. The chances are that if I should write a play with Cassius as

the hero, Cassius would go to the first night's performance with a dagger concealed in his toga, with which to

punctuate his objections to the lines put in his mouth. There is nothing I'd like better than to manage a theatre

in this place, but think of the riots we'd have! Suppose, for an instant, that I wrote a play about Bonaparte!

He'd have a box, and when the rest of you spooks called for the author at the end of the third act, if he didn't

happen to like the play he'd greet me with a salvo of artillery instead of applause."

"He wouldn't if you made him out a great conqueror from start to finish," said Tennyson.

"No doubt," returned Shakespeare, sadly; "but in that event Wellington would be in the other stagebox, and

"Why come out at all?" echoed Shakespeare. "What fun is there in writing a play if you can't come out and

show yourself at the first night? That's the author's reward. If it wasn't for the firstnight business, though, all

"There isn't any doubt in my mind," said Shakespeare, reverting to his original proposition, "that the only

perfectly satisfactory life is under a system not yet adopted in either worldthe one we have quitted or this.

There we had hard work in which our mortal limitations hampered us grievously; here we have the freedom

of the immortal with no hard work; in other words, now that we feel like fightingcocks, there isn't any

fighting to be done. The great life in my estimation, would be to return to earth and battle with mortal

"Some people don't know when they are well off," said Beau Brummel. "This strikes me as being an ideal

life. There are no tailors bills to paywe are ourselves nothing but memories, and a memory can clothe

himself in the shadow of his former grandeurI clothe myself in the remembrance of my departed clothes,

and as my memory is good I flatter myself I'm the bestdressed man here. The fact that there are ghosts of

departed unpaid bills haunting my bedside at night doesn't bother me in the least, because the bailiffs that in

the old life lent terror to an overdue account, thanks to our beneficent system here, are kept in the less

agreeable sections of Hades. I used to regret that bailiffs were such low people, but now I rejoice at it. If they

"You are right, my dear Brummel," interposed Munchausen. "This life is far preferable to that in the other

sphere. Any of you gentlemen who happen to have had the pleasure of reading my memoirs must have been

struck with the tremendous difficulties that encumbered my progress. If I wished for a rare liqueur for my

luncheon, a liqueur served only at the table of an Oriental potentate, more jealous of it than of his one

thousand queens, I had to raise armies, charter ships, and wage warfare in which feats of incredible valor had

to be performed by myself alone and unaided to secure the desired thimbleful. I have destroyed empires for a

"That's very likely true," said Carlyle. "I should think your feats of strength would have wrecked your

"Not so," said Munchausen. "On the contrary, continuous exercise served only to make it stronger. But, as I

was going to say, in this life we have none of these fearful obstaclesit is a life of leisure; and if I want a

bird and a cold bottle at any time, instead of placing my life in peril and jeopardizing the peace of all

mankind to get it, I have only to summon before me the memory of some previous bird and cold bottle, dine

thereon like a wellordered citizen, and smoke the spirit of the best cigar my imagination can conjure up."

"You miss my point," said Shakespeare. "I don't say this life is worse or better than the other we used to live.

What I do say is that a combination of both would suit me. In short, I'd like to live here and go to the other

world every day to business, like a suburban resident who sleeps in the country and makes his living in the

city. For instance, why shouldn't I dwell here and go to London every day, hire an office there, and put out a

"Guess again," said Tennyson. "My dear boy, you forget one thing. YOU ARE OUT OF DATE. People don't

"That is true," said Ward. "And they do do you, my beloved William. It's a wonder to me you are not dizzy

"Can it be that I can ever be out of date?" asked Shakespeare. "I know, of course, that I have to be adapted at

"You're not out of date," interposed Carlyle; "the date is out of you. There is a great demand for Shakespeare

"No, I don't think so," returned Carlyle. "You couldn't stand the pace. The world revolves faster today than

it did in your timemen write three or four plays at once. This is what you might call a Typewriter Age,

and to keep up with the procession you'd have to work as you never worked before."

"That is true," observed Tennyson. "You'd have to learn to be ambidextrous, so that you could keep two

typewriting machines going at once; and, to be perfectly frank with you, I cannot even conjure up in my

fancy a picture of you knocking out a tragedy with the right hand on one machine, while your left hand is

"He might do as a great many modern writers do," said Ward; "go in for the Paperdoll Drama. Cut the

whole thing out with a pair of scissors. As the poet might have said if he'd been clever enough:

Oh, bring me the scissors, And bring me the glue, And a couple of dozen old plays. I'll cut out and paste A

Oh, bring me a dress Made of satin and lace, And a booksay Joe Miller'sof wit; And I'll make the old

So bring me the scissors, And bring me the paste, And a dozen fine old comedies; A fine line of dresses, And

"Well, it's true," said Carlyle. "The world isn't at all what it used to be in any one respect, and you fellows

who made great reputations centuries ago wouldn't have even the ghost of a show now. I don't believe Homer

could get a poem accepted by a modern magazine, and while the comic papers are still printing Diogenes'

jokes the old gentleman couldn't make enough out of them in these days to pay taxes on his tub, let alone

"That is exactly so," said Tennyson. "I'd be willing to wager too that, in the line of personal prowess, even

"Or New York either," said Mr. Barnum, who had been an interested listener. "A New York policeman could

"Then," said Shakespeare, "in the opinion of you gentlemen, we old time lions would appear to modern eyes

"But you'd draw," said Barnum, his face lighting up with pleasure. "You'd drive a fivelegged calf to suicide

from envy. If I could take you and Caesar, and Napoleon Bonaparte and Nero over for one circus season we'd

"There's your chance, William," said Ward. "You write a play for Bonaparte and Caesar, and let Nero take his

fiddle and be the orchestra. Under Barnum's management you'd get enough activity in one season to last you

"You can count on me," said Barnum, rising. "Let me know when you've got your plan laid out. I'd stay and

make a contract with you now, but Adam has promised to give me points on the management of wild animals

"Humph!" said Shakespeare, as the eminent showman passed out. "That's a gay proposition. When monkeys

move in polite society William Shakespeare will make a sideshow of himself for a circus."

Which merely proved that Shakespeare did not mean what he said; for in spite of Thackeray's insinuation as

to the monkeys and polite society, he has not yet accepted the Barnum proposition, though there can be no

Robert Burns and Homer were seated at a small table in the dining room of the houseboat, discussing

"We are in great luck today," said Burns, as he cut a ruddy duck in twain. "This bird is done just right."

"I agree with you," returned Homer, drawing his chair a trifle closer to the table. "Compared to the one we

had here last Thursday, this is a feast for the gods. I wonder who it was that cooked this fowl originally?"

"I give it up; but I suspect it was done by some man who knew his business," said Burns, with a smack of his

lips. "It's a pity, I think, my dear Homer, that there is no means by which a cook may become immortal.

Cooking is as much of an art as is the writing of poetry, and just as there are immortal poets so there should

be immortal cooks. See what an advantage the poet hashe writes something, it goes out and reaches the

inmost soul of the man who reads it, and it is signed. His work is known because he puts his name to it; but

this poor devil of a cookwhere is he? He has done his work as well as the poet ever did his, it has reached

the inmost soul of the mortal who originally ate it, but he cannot get the glory of it because he cannot put his

"You have hit upon a great truth," said Homer, nodding, as he sometimes was wont to do. "And yet I fear

that, ingenious as we are, we cannot devise a plan to remedy the matter. I do not know about you, but I

should myself much object if my birds and my flapjacks, and other things, digestible and otherwise, that I eat

here were served with the cook's name written upon them. An omelette is sometimes a picture"

"I've seen omelettes that looked like one of Turner's sunsets," acquiesced Burns.

"Precisely; and when Turner puts down in one corner of his canvas, 'Turner, fecit,' you do not object, but if

"No," said Burns; "but he might fasten a tag to it, with his name written upon that."

"That is so," said Homer; "but the result in the end would be the same. The tags would get lost, or perhaps a

careless waiter, dropping a tray full of dainties, would get the tags of a good and bad cook mixed in trying to

restore the contents of the tray to their previous condition. The tag system would fail."

"There is but one other way that I can think of," said Burns, "and that would do no good now unless we can

convey our ideas into the other world; that is, for a great poet to lend his genius to the great cook, and make

the latter's name immortal by putting it into a poem. Say, for instance, that you had eaten a fine bit of

terrapin, done to the most exquisite pointyou could have asked the cook's name, and written an apostrophe

Oh, Dinah Rudd! oh, Dinah Rudd! Thou art a cook of bluest blood! Nowhere within This world of sin Have I

"I do; but even then, my dear fellow, the cook would fall short of true fame. Her excellence would be a mere

"Not if you went on to describe, in a keenly analytical manner, the virtues of that particular bit of terrapin,"

said Burns. "Draw so vivid a picture of the dish that the reader himself would taste that terrapin even as you

"You have hit it!" cried Homer, enthusiastically. "It is a grand plan; but how to introduce itthat is the

"We can haunt some modern poet, and give him the idea in that way," suggested Burns. "He will see the

novelty of it, and will possibly disseminate the idea as we wish it to be disseminated."

"Done!" said Homer. "I'll begin right away. I feel like haunting tonight. I'm getting to be a pretty old ghost,

At this point, as Homer spoke, a finelooking spirit entered the room, and took a seat at the head of the long

"Why, bless me!" said Homer, his face lighting up with pleasure. "Why, Phidias, is that you?"

"I think so," said the newcomer, wearily; "at any rate, it's all that's left of me."

The poet and the sculptor were introduced, after which Phidias seated himself at Homer's side.

"Are you any relation to Burns the poet?" the former asked, addressing the Scotchman.

"You don't look much like your statues," said Phidias, scanning his face critically.

"You speak with a great deal of feeling, Phidias," said Homer, gravely. "Have they done anything to hurt

"They have," said Phidias. "I have just returned from a tour of the world. I have seen the things they call

sculpture in these degenerate days, and I must confesswho shouldn't, perhapsthat I could have done

"I think I could do good work with a baseballbat too," said Burns; "but as for the raw material, give me the

heads of the men who have sculped me to work on. I'd leave them so that they'd look like some of your

"You are a vindictive creature," said Homer. "These men you criticise, and whose heads you wish to sculp

with a baseballbat, have done more for you than you ever did for them. Every statue of you these men have

made is a standing advertisement of your books, and it hasn't cost you a penny. There isn't a doubt in my

mind that if it were not for those statues countless people would go to their graves supposing that the great

Scottish Burns were little rivulets, and not a poet. What difference does it make to you if they haven't made

an Adonis of you? You never set them an example by making one of yourself. If there's deception anywhere,

it isn't you that is deceived; it is the mortals. And who cares about them or their opinions?"

"I never thought of it in that way," said Burns. "I hate caricaturesthat is, caricatures of myself. I enjoy

"You have a great deal of the mortal left in you, considering that you pose as an immortal," said Homer,

"Well, so have I," said Phidias, resolved to stand by Burns in the argument, "and I'm sorry for the man who

hasn't. I was a mortal once, and I'm glad of it. I had a good time, and I don't care who knows it. When I look

about me and see Jupiter, the archsnob of creation, and Mars, a little tin warrior who couldn't have fought a

soldier like Napoleon, with all his alleged divinity, I thank the Fates that they enabled me to achieve

immortality through mortal effort. Hang hereditary greatness, I say. These men were born immortals. You

and I worked for it and got it. We know what it cost. It was ours because we earned it, and not because we

"I am not vindictive myself, Homer," he said. "Nobody has hurt me, and, on the whole, I don't think sculpture

is in such a bad way, after all. There's a shoemaker I wot of in the mortal realms who can turn the prettiest

last you ever saw; and I encountered a carver in a London eatinghouse last month who turned out a slice of

beef that was cut as artistically as I could have done it myself. What I object to chiefly is the tendency of the

times. This is an electrical age, and men in my old profession aren't content to turn out one chefd'oeuvre in a

lifetime. They take orders by the gross. I waited upon inspiration. Today the sculptor waits upon custom,

and an artist will make a bust of anybody in any material desired as long as he is sure of getting his pay

afterwards. I saw a lifesize statue of the inventor of a new kind of lard the other day, and what do you

suppose the material was? Gold? Not by a great deal. Ivory? Marble, even? Not a bit of it. He was done in

lard, sir. I have seen a woman's head done in butter, too, and it makes me distinctly weary to think that my art

"A bad joke, my dear Homer," retorted Phidias. "I thought sculpture was getting down to a pretty low ebb

when I had to fashion friezes out of marble; but marble is more precious than rubies alongside of butter and

"Each has its uses," said Homer. "I'd rather have butter on my bread than marble, but I must confess that for

"It is indeed," said Phidias. "For practice it's all right to use butter, but for exhibition purposesbah!"

Here Phidias, to show his contempt for butter as raw material in sculpture, seized a wooden toothpick, and

with it modelled a beautiful head of Minerva out of the pat that stood upon the small plate at his side, and

before Burns could interfere had spread the chaste figure as thinly as he could upon a piece of bread, which

"Heavens!" cried Burns. "Imperious Caesar dead and turned to bricks is as nothing to a Minerva carved by

"I think you are a trifle foolish to be so eternally vexed about it," said Homer, soothingly. "Of course you feel

badly, but, after all, what's the use? You must know that the mortals would pay more for one of your statues

than they would for a specimen of any modern sculptor's art; yes, even if yours were modelled in winejelly

"You'd feel the same way if poets did a similarly vulgar thing," retorted Phidias; "you know you would. If

you should hear of a poet today writing a poem on a thin layer of lard or butter, you would yourself be the

"No, I shouldn't," said Homer, quietly; "in fact, I wish the poets would do that. We'd have fewer bad poems to

read; and that's the way you should look at it. I venture to say that if this modern plan of making busts and

friezes in butter had been adopted at an earlier period, the public places in our great cities and our national

Walhallas would seem less like repositories of comic art, since the first critical rays of a warm sun would

have reduced the carven atrocities therein to a spot on the pavement. The butter school of sculpture has its

advantages, my boy, and you should be crowning the inventor of the system with laurel, and not heaping

"That," said Burns, "is, after all, the solid truth, Phidias. Take the brass caricatures of me, for instance. Where

"Well," he said, finally, as the value of the plan dawned upon his mind, "from that point of view I don't know

but what you are right, after all; and, to show that I have spoken in no vindictive spirit, let me propose a toast.

The toast was drained to the dregs, and Phidias went home feeling a little better.

It was Storytellers' Night at the houseboat, and the best talkers of Hades were impressed into the service.

"Put him in the chair," said Raleigh. "That's the only way to keep him from telling a story himself. If he starts

in on a tale he'll make it a serial sure as fate, but if you make him the medium through which other

storytellers are introduced to the club he'll be finely epigrammatic. He can be very short and sharp when he's

"Great scheme," said Diogenes, who was chairman of the entertainment committee. "The nights over here are

long, but if Johnson started on a story they'd have to reach twice around eternity and halfway back to give

"He's not very witty, in my judgment," said Carlyle, who since his arrival in the other world has manifested

"That's true enough," said Raleigh; "but he's strong, and he's bound to say something that will put the

audience in sympathy with the man that he introduces, and that's half the success of a Storytellers' Night.

I've told stories myself. If your audience doesn't sympathize with you you'd be better off at home putting the

And so it happened. Doctor Johnson was made chairman, and the evening came. The Doctor was in great

form. A list of the story tellers had been sent him in advance, and he was prepared. The audience was about

as select a one as can be found in Hades. The doors were thrown open to the friends of the members, and the

smoke furnace had been filled with a very superior quality of Arcadian mixture which Scott had brought

"Friends and fellowspooks," the Doctor began, when all were seated on the visionary campstoolswhich,

by the way, are far superior to those in use in a world of realities, because they do not creak in the midst of a

fine point demanding absolute silence for appreciation"I do not know why I have been chosen to preside

over this gathering of phantoms; it is the province of the presiding officer on occasions of this sort to say

pleasant things, which he does not necessarily endorse, about the sundry persons who are to do the

storytelling. Now, I suppose you all know me pretty well by this time. If there is anybody who doesn't, I'll

be glad to have him presented after the formal work of the evening is over, and if I don't like him I'll tell him

so. You know that if I can be counted upon for any one thing it is candor, and if I hurt the feelings of any of

these individuals whom I introduce tonight, I want them distinctly to understand that it is not because I love

them less, but that I love truth more. With thisahblanket apology, as it were, to cover all possible

emergencies that may arise during the evening, I will begin. The first speaker on the programme, I regret to

observe, is my friend Goldsmith. Affairs of this kind ought to begin with a snap, and while Oliver is a most

excellent writer, as a speaker he is a pebbleless Demosthenes. If I had had the arrangement of the programme

I should have had Goldsmith tell his story while the rest of us were downstairs at supper. However, we must

abide by our programme, which is unconscionably long, for otherwise we will never get through it. Those of

you who agree with me as to the pleasure of listening to my friend Goldsmith will do well to join me in the

grillroom while he is speaking, where, I understand, there is a very fine line of punches ready to be served.

Modest Noll, will you kindly inflict yourself upon the gathering, and send me word when you get through, if

you ever do, so that I may return and present number two to the assembly, whoever or whatever he may be?"

With these words the Doctor retired, and poor Goldsmith, pale with fear, rose up to speak. It was evident that

"I'm not much of a talker, or, as some say, speaker," he said. "Talking is not my forte, as Doctor Johnson has

told you, and I am therefore not much at it. Speaking is not in my line. I cannot speak or talk, as it were,

because I am not particularly ready at the making of a speech, due partly to the fact that I am not much of a

talker anyhow, and seldom if ever speak. I will therefore not bore you by attempting to speak, since a speech

by one who like myself is, as you are possibly aware, not a fluent nor indeed in any sense an eloquent

speaker, is apt to be a bore to those who will be kind enough to listen to my remarks, but will read instead the

"Who suggested any such night as this, anyhow?" growled Carlyle. "Five chapters of the Vicar of Wakefield

for a starter! Lord save us, we'll need a Vicar of Sleepfield if he's allowed to do this!"

"Can't something be done to keep these younger members quiet?" asked Solomon, frowning upon Carlyle and

"Yes," said Douglas Jerrold. "Let Goldsmith go on. He'll have them asleep in ten minutes."

Meanwhile, Goldsmith was plodding earnestly through his stint, utterly and happily oblivious of the effect he

"Worse than Waterloo," replied the exEmperor, with a grin; "but we can stop it in a minute. Artemas Ward

told me once how a camp meeting he attended in the West broke up to go outside and see a dog fight.

Can't you and I pretend to quarrel? A personal assault by you on me will wake these people up and

"I'm with you," said Wellington. Whereupon, with a great show of heat, he roared out, "You? Never! I'm

more afraid of a boy with a beansnapper that I ever was of you!" and followed up his remark by pulling

Bonaparte's campchair from under him, and letting the conqueror of Austerlitz fall to the floor with a thud

The effect was instantaneous. Compared to a personal encounter between the two great figures of Waterloo, a

reading from his own works by Goldsmith seemed lacking in the elements essential to the holding of an

audience. Consequently, attention was centred in the belligerent warriors, and, by some odd mistake, when a

peaceloving member of the assemblage, realizing the indecorousness of the incident, cried out, "Put him

out! put him out!" the attendants rushed in, and, taking poor Goldsmith by his collar, hustled him out through

the door, across the deck, and tossed him ashore without reference to the gangplank. This accomplished, a

personal explanation of their course was made by the quarrelling generals, and, peace having been restored, a

committee was sent in search of Goldsmith with suitable apologies. The good and kindly soul returned, but

having lost his book in the melee, much to his own gratification, as well as to that of the audience, he was

"Is he through?" said Johnson, poking his head in at the door when order was restored.

"Yes, sir," said Boswell; "that is to say, he has retired permanently from the field. He didn't finish, though."

"Fellowspooks," began Johnson once more, "now that you have been delighted with the honeyed eloquence

of the last speaker, it is my privilege to present to you that eminent fabulist Baron Munchausen, the greatest

unrealist of all time, who will give you an exhibition of his paradoxical power of lying while standing."

The applause which greeted the Baron was deafening. He was, beyond all doubt, one of the most popular

"True," retorted the Baron; "but you always suggest them by your apparently unquenchable thirst for

spoutingspeaking of whales, my friend Jonah, as well as the rest of you, may be interested to know that I

once had an experience similar to his own, and, strange to say, with the identical whale."

Jonah arose from his seat in the back of the room. "I do not wish to be unpleasant," he said, with a strong

"I desire to apply for an injunction restraining the Baron from using my whale in his story. That whale, your

honor, is copyrighted," said Jonah. "If I had any other claim to the affection of mankind than the one which is

based on my experience with that leviathan, I would willingly permit the Baron to introduce him into his

"I think Jonah's point is well taken," said Blackstone, turning to the Baron. "It would be a distinct hardship, I

think, if the plaintiff in this action were to be deprived of the exclusive use of his sole accessory. The

injunction prayed for is therefore granted. The court would suggest, however, that the Baron continue with

"It is impossible," said Munchausen, gloomily. "The whole point of the story depends upon its having been

Jonah's whale. Under the circumstances, the only thing I can do is to sit down. I regret the narrowness of

mind exhibited by my friend Jonah, but I must respect the decision of the court."

"I must take exception to the Baron's allusion to my narrowness of mind," said Jonah, with some show of

heat. "I am simply defending my rights, and I intend to continue to do so if the whole world unites in

considering my mind a mere slot scarcely wide enough for the insertion of a nickel. That whale was my

discovery, and the personal discomfort I endured in perfecting my experience was such that I resolved to rest

my reputation upon his broad proportions onlyto sink or swim with himand I cannot at this late day

Jonah sat down and fanned himself, and the Baron, with a look of disgust on his face, left the room.

"Up to his old tricks," he growled as he went. "He queers everything he goes into. If I'd known he was a

"We do not appear to be progressing very rapidly," said Doctor Johnson, rising. "So far we have made two

efforts to have stories told, and have met with disaster each time. I don't know but what you are to be

congratulated, however, on your escape. Very few of you, I observe, have as yet fallen asleep. The next

number on the programme, I see, is Boswell, who was to have entertained you with a few reminiscences; I

"No doubt," retorted Johnson, severely, "but I am not. You are a man with one subjectmyself. I admit it's a

good subject, but you are not the man to treat of ithere. You may suffice for mortals, but here it is

different. I can speak for myself. You can go out and sit on the banks of the Vitriol Reservoir and lecture to

the imps if you want to, but when it comes to reminiscences of me I'm on deck myself, and I flatter myself I

remember what I said and did more accurately than you do. Therefore, gentlemen, instead of listening to

Boswell at this point, you will kindly excuse him and listen to me. Ahem! When I was a boy"

"Excuse me," said Solomon, rising; "about how long is thisahthis entertaining discourse of yours to

"I am," said the Doctor. "With that in mind, for the sake of our fellowspooks who are present, I am very

"I should like to ask," he said, mildly, "if this is supposed to be an audience of children? I, for one, have no

wish to listen to the juvenile stories of Doctor Johnson. Furthermore, I have come here particularly tonight

to hear Boswell. I want to compare him with Froude. I therefore protest against"

"There is a roof to this houseboat," said Doctor Johnson. "If Mr. Carlyle will retire to the roof with Boswell

I have no doubt he can be accommodated. As for Solomon's interruption, I can afford to pass that over with

the silent contempt it deserves, though I may add with propriety that I consider his most famous proverbs the

most absurd bits of hackwork I ever encountered; and as for that story about dividing a baby between two

mothers by splitting it in two, it was grossly inhuman unless the baby was twins. When I was a boy"

As the Doctor proceeded, Carlyle and Solomon, accompanied by the now angry Boswell, left the room, and

my account of the Storytellers' Night must perforce stop; because, though I have never heretofore confessed

it, all my information concerning the houseboat on the Styx has been derived from the memoranda of

Boswell. It may be interesting to the reader to learn, however, that, according to Boswell's account, the

Storytellers' Night was never finished; but whether this means that it broke up immediately afterwards in a

riot, or that Doctor Johnson is still at work detailing his reminiscences, I am not aware, and I cannot at the

moment of writing ascertain, for Boswell, when I have the pleasure of meeting him, invariably avoids the

"I'm glad," he said, "that when I embarked at the time of the heavy rains that did so much damage in the old

days, there weren't any dogs like that fellow Cerberus about. If I'd had to feed a lot of three headed beasts

"That's very likely true," observed Mr. Barnum; "but I must confess, my dear Noah, that you showed a

lamentable lack of the showman's instinct when you selected the animals you did. A more commonplace lot

of beasts were never gathered together, and while Adam is held responsible for the introduction of sin into the

The members of the club drew their chairs a little closer. The conversation had opened a trifle spicily, and,

furthermore, they had retained enough of their mortality to be interested in animal stories. Adam, who had

managed to settle his back dues and delinquent housecharges, and once more acquired the privileges of the

"I'm glad to find some one," said he, "who places the responsibility for trouble where it belongs. I'm

roundshouldered with the blame I've had to bear. I didn't invent sin any more than I invented the telephone,

and I think it's rather rough on a fellow who lived a quiet, retiring, pastoral life, minding his own business

and staying home nights, to be held up to public reprobation for as long a time as I have."

"It'll be all right in time," said Raleigh; "just waitbe patient, and your vindication will come. Nobody

thought much of the plays Bacon and I wrote for Shakespeare until Shakespeare 'd been dead a century."

"Humph!" said Adam, gloomily. "Wait! What have I been doing all this time? I've waited all the time there's

been so far, and until Mr. Barnum spoke as he did I haven't observed the slightest inclination on the part of

anybody to rehabilitate my lost reputation. Nor do I see exactly how it's to come about even if I do wait."

"You might apply for an investigating committee to look into the charges," suggested an American politician,

"I intend to," said Adam. "The fact is, I hate to give any further publicity to the matter. Even if I did bring the

case into court and sue for libel, I've only got one witness to prove my innocence, and that's my wife. I'm not

going to drag her into it. She's got nervous prostration over her position as it is, and this would make it worse.

Queen Elizabeth and the rest of these snobs in society won't invite her to any of their functions because they

say she hadn't any grandfather; and even if she were received by them, she'd be uncomfortable going about. It

isn't pleasant for a woman to feel that every one knows she's the oldest woman in the room."

"Well, take my word for it," said Raleigh, kindly. "It'll all come out all right. You know the old saying,

'History repeats itself.' Some day you will be living back in Eden again, and if you are only careful to make

an exact record of all you do, and have a notary present, before whom you can make an affidavit as to the

"Nonsense; you were caught redhanded," said Noah; "my grandfather told me so. And now that I've got a

chance to slip in a word edgewise, I'd like mightily to have you explain your statement, Mr. Barnum, that I

am responsible for your errors. That is a serious charge to bring against a man of my reputation."

"I mean simply this: that to make a show interesting," said Mr. Barnum, "a man has got to provide interesting

materials, that's all. I do not mean to say a word that is in any way derogatory to your morality. You were a

surprisingly good man for a seacaptain, and with the exception of that one occasion when youahyou

allowed yourself to be stranded on the bar, if I may so put it, I know of nothing to be said against you as a

"That was only an accident," said Noah, reddening. "You can't expect a man six hundred odd years of age"

"Certainly not," said Raleigh, soothingly, "and nobody thinks less of you for it. Considering how you must

have hated the sight of water, the wonder of it is that it didn't become a fixed habit. Let us hear what it is that

"His taste, that's all," said Mr. Barnum. "I contend that, compared to the animals he might have had, the ones

he did have were as ant hills to Alps. There were more magnificent zoos allowed to die out through Noah's

lack of judgment than one likes to think of. Take the Proterosaurus, for instance. Where on earth do we find

"You ought to be mighty glad you can't find one like him," put in Adam. "If you'd spent a week in the Garden

of Eden with me, with lizards eight feet long dropping out of the trees on to your lap while you were trying to

take a Sundayafternoon nap, you'd be willing to dispense with things of that sort for the balance of your

natural life. If you want to get an idea of that experience let somebody drop a calf on you some afternoon."

"I am not saying anything about that," returned Barnum. "It would be unpleasant to have an elephant drop on

one after the fashion of which you speak, but I am glad the elephant was saved just the same. I haven't

advocated the Proterosaurus as a Sundayafternoon surprise, but as an attraction for a show. I still maintain

that a lizard as big as a cow would prove a lodestone, the drawing powers of which the pocketmoney of the

small boy would be utterly unable to resist. Then there was the Iguanadon. He'd have brought a fortune to the

"Which you'd have immediately lost," retorted Noah, "paying rent. When you get a reptile of his size, that

reaches thirty feet up into the air when he stands on his hindlegs, the ordinary circus wagon of commerce

can't be made to hold him, and your menagerieroom has to have ceilings so high that every penny he

"Mischievous, too," said Adam, "that Iguanadon. You couldn't keep anything out of his reach. We used to

forbid animals of his kind to enter the garden, but that didn't bother him; he'd stand up on his hindlegs and

"I could have used him for a fireescape," said Mr. Barnum; "and as for my inability to provide him with

quarters, I'd have met that problem after a short while. I've always lamented the absence, too, of the

"Which simply shows how ignorant you are," retorted Noah. "Why, my dear fellow, it would have taken the

whole of an ordinary zoo such as yours to give the Megalosaurus a lunch. Those fellows would eat a

rhinoceros as easily as you'd crack a peanut. I did have a couple of Megalosaurians on my boat for just

twentyfour hours, and then I chucked them both overboard. If I'd kept them ten days longer they'd have

eaten every blessed beast I had with me, and your Zoo wouldn't have had anything else but Megalosaurians."

"Papa is right about that, Mr. Barnum," said Shem. "The whole Saurian tribe was a fearful nuisance. About

four hundred years before the flood I had a pet Creosaurus that I kept in our barn. He was a cunning little

devilfull of tricks, and all that; but we never could keep a cow or a horse on the place while he was about.

They'd mysteriously disappear, and we never knew what became of 'em until one morning we surprised Fido

"Well, what of it?" asked Shem, angrily. "You wouldn't have us call a mastodon like that Fanny, would you,

"Shall I send for a physician?" put in Boswell, looking anxiously at his chief, the situation was so

Solomon and Carlyle giggled; and the Doctor having politely requested Boswell to go to a warmer section of

"I caught him in the act of swallowing five cows and Ham's favorite trotter, sulky and all."

"If they're going to lie I'm going to get out," he said, as he passed through the room.

"The sulky killed him," returned Shem, innocently. "He couldn't digest the wheels."

"What he says is true, and I will go further and say that it is my belief that you would have found the show

business impossible if I had taken that sort of creature aboard. You'd have got mightily discouraged after your

Antediluvians had chewed up a few dozen steam calliopes, and eaten every other ablebodied exhibit you

had managed to secure. I'd have tried to save a couple of Discosaurians if I hadn't supposed they were able to

take care of themselves. A combination of seaserpent and dragon, with a neck twentytwo feet long, it

seemed to me, ought to have been able to ride out any storm or fall of rain; but there I was wrong, and I am

free to admit my error. It never occurred to me that the seaserpents were in any danger, so I let them alone,

with the result that I never saw but one other, and he was only an illusion due to that unhappy use of

"I didn't mean to call up unpleasant memories," said Barnum. "I never believed you got halfseas over,

anyhow; but, to return to our muttons, why didn't you hand down a few varieties of the Therium family to

posterity? There were the Dinotherium and the Megatherium, either one of which would have knocked spots

out of any leopard that ever was made, and along side of which even my woolly horse would have paled into

insignificance. That's what I can't understand in your selections; with Megatheriums to burn, why save

"What kind of a boat do you suppose I had?" cried Noah. "Do you imagine for a moment that she was four

miles on the waterline, with a mile and threequarters beam? If I'd had a pair of Dinotheriums in the stern of

that Ark, she'd have tipped up fore and aft, until she'd have looked like a telegraphpole in the water, and if

I'd put 'em amidships they'd have had to be wedged in so tightly they couldn't move to keep the vessel trim. I

didn't go to sea, my friend, for the purpose of being tipped over in midocean every time one of my cargo

"Yes, indeed, my son," returned the patriarch. "It was bad enough with the elephants. We had to shift our

ballast half a dozen times a day to keep the boat from travelling on her beam ends, the elephants moved about

so much; and when we came to the question of provender, it took up about ninetenths of our hold to store

hay and peanuts enough to keep them alive and goodtempered. On the whole, I think it's rather late in the

day, considering the trouble I took to save anything but myself and my family, to be criticised as I now am.

You ought to be much obliged to me for saving any animals at all. Most people in my position would have

"That is quite true," observed Raleigh, with a pacificatory nod at Noah. "You were eminently unselfish, and

while, with Mr. Barnum, I exceedingly regret that the Saurians and Therii and other tribes were left on the

pier when you sailed, I nevertheless think that you showed most excellent judgment at the time."

"He was the only man who had any at all, for that matter," suggested Shem, "and it required all his courage to

show it. Everybody was guying him. Sinners stood around the yard all day and every day, criticising the

model; one scoffer pretended he thought her a canal boat, and asked how deep the flood was likely to be on

the towpath, and whether we intended to use mules in shallow water and giraffes in deep; another asked

what time allowance we expected to get in a fifteenmile run, and hinted that a year and two months per mile

"It was far from pleasant," said Noah, tapping his fingers together reflectively. "I don't want to go through it

again, and if, as Raleigh suggests, history is likely to repeat herself, I'll sublet the contract to Barnum here,

"It was all right in the end, though, dad," said Shem. "We had the great laugh on 'hoi polloi' the second day

"We did, indeed," said Noah. "When we told 'em we only carried firstclass passengers and had no room for

emigrants, they began to see that the Ark wasn't such an old tub, after all; and a good ninety per cent. of them

would have given ten dollars for a little of that time allowance they'd been talking to us about for several

"I still wish you'd saved a Discosaurus," he said. "A creature with a neck twentytwo feet long would have

been a gold mine to me. He could have been trained to stand in the ring, and by stretching out his neck bite

"Well, for your sake," said Noah, with a smile, "I'm very sorry; but for my own, I'm quite satisfied with the

And they all agreed that the patriarch had every reason to be pleased with himself.

Queen Elizabeth, attended by Ophelia and Xanthippe, was walking along the riverbank. It was a beautiful

autumn day, although, owing to certain climatic peculiarities of Hades, it seemed more like midsummer. The

mercury in the club thermometer was nervously clicking against the top of the crystal tube, and poor

Cerberus was having all he could do with his three mouths snapping up the pestiferous little shades of

bygone gnats that seemed to take an almost unholy pleasure in alighting upon his various noses and ears.

"I am sure I have never wished to ride one of them," she said, positively. "In the first place, I do not see

where the pleasure of it comes in, and, in the second, it seems to me as if skirts must be dangerous. If they

"Well, I shouldn't wear skirts," snapped Xanthippe. "If a man's wife can't borrow some of her husband's

clothing to reduce her peril to a minimum, what is the use of having a husband? When I take to the bicycle,

which, in spite of all Socrates can say, I fully intend to do, I shall have a man's wheel, and I shall wear

"I don't see how Socrates' clothes will help you," observed Ophelia. "He wore skirts himself, just like all the

other old Greeks. His toga would be quite as apt to catch in the gear as your skirts."

Xanthippe looked puzzled for a moment. It was evident that she had not thought of the point which Ophelia

had brought upstrongminded ladies of her kind are apt sometimes to overlook important links in such

chains of evidence as they feel called upon to use in binding themselves to their rights.

"The women of your day were relieved of that dress problem, at any rate," laughed Queen Elizabeth.

"The women of my day," retorted Xanthippe, "in matters of dress were the equals of their husbandsin my

family particularly; now they have lost their rights, and are made to confine themselves still to garments like

those of yore, while man has arrogated to himself the sole and exclusive use of sane habiliments. However,

that is apart from the question. I was saying that I shall have a man's wheel, and shall wear Socrates' old

dressclothes to ride it in, if Socrates has to go out and buy an old dresssuit for the purpose."

"A magnificent old maid was lost to the world when you married," she said. "Feeling as you do about men,

"Humph!" retorted Xanthippe. "Of course you don't. You didn't need a husband. You were born with

"I never should have gone crazy over a man if I'd remained unmarried forty thousand years," she retorted,

severely. "I married Socrates because I loved him and admired his sculpture; but when he gave up sculpture

and became a thinker he simply tried me beyond all endurance, he was so thoughtless, with the result that,

having ventured once or twice to show my natural resentment, I have been handed down to posterity as a

shrew. I've never complained, and I don't complain now; but when a woman is married to a philosopher who

is so taken up with his studies that when he rises in the morning he doesn't look what he is doing, and goes

off to his business in his wife's clothes, I think she is entitled to a certain amount of sympathy."

"Turn about is fairplay," said Xanthippe. "I've suffered so much on his account that on the principle of

"You are simply the victim of man's deceit," said Elizabeth, wishing to mollify the now angry Xanthippe,

who was on the verge of tears. "I understood men, fortunately, and so never married. I knew my father, and

even if I hadn't been a wise enough child to know him, I should not have wed, because he married enough to

"You must have had a hard time refusing all those lovely men, though," sighed Ophelia. "Of course, Sir

"I cannot deny that," said Elizabeth, "and I didn't really have the heart to say no when he asked me; but I did

tell him that if he married me I should not become Mrs. Raleigh, but that he should become King Elizabeth.

He fled to Virginia on the next steamer. My diplomacy rid me of a very unpleasant duty."

Chatting thus, the three famous spirits passed slowly along the path until they came to the sheltered nook in

"There's a case in point," said Xanthippe, as the houseboat loomed up before them. "All that luxury is for

men; we women are not permitted to cross the gangplank. Our husbands and brothers and friends go there;

the door closes on them, and they are as completely lost to us as though they never existed. We don't know

what goes on in there. Socrates tells me that their amusements are of a most innocent nature, but how do I

know what he means by that? Furthermore, it keeps him from home, while I have to stay at home and be

entertained by my sons, whom the Encyclopaedia Britannica rightly calls dull and fatuous. In other words,

"I think myself they're rather queer about letting women into that boat," said Queen Elizabeth. "But it isn't Sir

Walter's fault. He told me he tried to have them establish a Ladies' Day, and that they agreed to do so, but

"It would be great fun to steal in there now, wouldn't it," giggled Ophelia. "There doesn't seem to be anybody

"That's true," said Xanthippe. "All the windows are closed, as if there wasn't a soul there. I've half a mind to

"I am with you," said Elizabeth, her face lighting up with pleasure. It was a great novelty, and an unpleasant

one to her, to find some place where she could not go. "Let's do it," she added.

So the three women tiptoed softly up the gangplank, and, silently boarding the houseboat, peeped in at the

"I must see more," cried Elizabeth, rushing around to the door, which opened at her touch. Xanthippe and

Ophelia followed close on her heels, and shortly they found themselves, openmouthed in wondering

admiration, in the billiardroom of the floating palace, and Richard, the ghost of the best billiardroom

"Excuse me," he said, very much upset by the sudden apparition of the ladies. "I'm very sorry, but ladies are

"We are equally sorry," retorted Elizabeth, assuming her most imperious manner, "that your masters have

seen fit to prohibit our being here; but, now that we are here, we intend to make the most of the opportunity,

particularly as there seem to be no members about. What has become of them all?"

Richard smiled broadly. "I don't know where they are," he replied; but it was evident that he was not telling

"Oh, come, my boy," said the Queen, kindly, "you do know. Sir Walter told me you knew everything. Where

"Well, if you must know, ma'am," returned Richard, captivated by the Queen's manner, "they've all gone

"See there!" cried Xanthippe. "That's what this club makes possible. Socrates told me he was coming here to

take luncheon with Carlyle, and they've both of 'em gone off to a disgusting prizefight!"

"Yes, ma'am, they have," said Richard; "and if Goliath wins, I don't think Mr. Socrates will get home this

"Oh no, ma'am," said Richard. "Betting is not allowed in the club; they're very strict about that. But the shore

is only ten feet off, ma'am, and the gentlemen always go ashore and make their bets."

During this little colloquy Elizabeth and Ophelia were wandering about, admiring everything they saw.

"I do wish Lucretia Borgia and Calpurnia could see this. I wonder if the Caesars are on the telephone,"

Elizabeth said. Investigation showed that both the Borgias and the Caesars were on the wire, and in short

order the two ladies had been made acquainted with the state of affairs at the houseboat; and as they were

both quite as anxious to see the interior of the muchtalkedof clubhouse as the others, they were not long

in arriving. Furthermore, they brought with them half a dozen more ladies, among whom were Desdemona

and Cleopatra, and then began the most extraordinary session the houseboat ever knew. A meeting was

called, with Elizabeth in the chair, and all the best ladies of the Stygian realms were elected members.

Xanthippe, amid the greatest applause, moved that every male member of the organization be expelled for

conduct unworthy of a gentleman in attending a prizefight, and encouraging two such horrible creatures as

Goliath and Samson in their nefarious pursuits. Desdemona seconded the motion, and it was carried without a

dissenting voice, although Mrs. Caesar, with becoming dignity, merely smiled approval, not caring to take

The men having thus been disposed of in a summary fashion, Richard was elected Janitor in Charon's place,

and the club was entirely reorganized, with Cleopatra as permanent President. The meeting then adjourned,

and the invaders set about enjoying their newly acquired privileges. The smokingroom was thronged for a

few moments, but owing to the extraordinary strength of the tobacco which the faithful Richard shovelled

into the furnace, it developed no enduring popularity, Xanthippe, with a suddenly acquired pallor, being the

So fast and furious was the enjoyment of these thirsty souls, so long deprived of their rights, that night came

on without their observing it, and with the night was brought the great peril into which they were thrown, and

from which at the moment of writing they had not been extricated, and which, to my regret, has cut me off for

the present from any further information connected with the Associated Shades and their beautiful

loungingplace. Had they not been so intent upon the inner beauties of the Houseboat on the Styx they

might have observed approaching, under the shadow of the westerly shore, a long, rakish craft propelled by

oars, which dipped softly and silently and with trained precision in the now jetblack waters of the Styx.

Manning the oars were a dozen evilvisaged ruffians, while in the stern of the approaching vessel there sat a

grimfaced, weatherbeaten spirit, armed to the teeth, his coat sleeves bearing the skull and crossbones, the

This boat, stealing up the river like a thief in the night, contained Captain Kidd and his pirate crew, and their

mission was a mission of vengeance. To put the matter briefly and plainly, Captain Kidd was smarting under

the indignity which the club had recently put upon him. He had been unanimously blackballed, even his

proposer and seconder, who had been browbeaten into nominating him for membership, voting against him.

"I may be a pirate," he cried, when he heard what the club had done, "but I have feelings, and the Associated

Shades will repent their action. The time will come when they'll find that I have their club house, and they

It was for this purpose that the great terror of the seas had come upon this, the first favorable opportunity.

Kidd knew that the houseboat was unguarded; his spies had told him that the members had every one gone

to the fight, and he resolved that the time had come to act. He did not know that the Fates had helped to make

his vengeance all the more terrible and withering by putting the most attractive and fashionable ladies of the

Stygian country likewise in his power; but so it was, and they, poor souls, while this fiend, relentless and

cruel, was slowly approaching, sang on and danced on in blissful unconsciousness of their peril.

In less than five minutes from the time when his sinistercraft rounded the bend Kidd and his crew had

boarded the houseboat, cut her loose from her moorings, and in ten minutes she had sailed away into the

great unknown, and with her went some of the most precious gems in the social diadem of Hades.

The rest of my story is soon told. The whole country was aroused when the crime was discovered, but up to

the date of this narrative no word has been received of the missing craft and her precious cargo. Raleigh and

Caesar have had the seas scoured in search of her, Hamlet has offered his kingdom for her return, but

unavailingly; and the men of Hades were cast into a gloom from which there seems to be no relief.

"They'll come back some day, my dear Raleigh," he said, as the knight buried his face, weeping, in his hands.

"So why repine? I'll never lose my Xanthippepermanently, that is. I know that, for I am a philosopher, and

"Very likely," sighed Raleigh, wiping his eyes. "I don't mind the club so much, but to think of those poor

"Oh, they're all right," returned Socrates, with a laugh. "Caesar's wife is along, and you can't dispute the fact

that she's a good chaperon. Give the ladies a chance. They've been after our club for years; now let 'em have

it, and let us hope that they like it. Order me up a hemlock sour, and let's drink to their enjoyment of club

Which was done, and I, in spirit, drank with them, for I sincerely hope that the "New Women" of Hades are