A HOUSE-BOAT ON THE STYXby John Kendrick Bangs CHAPTER I: CHARON MAKES A DISCOVERY Charon, the Ferryman of renown, was cruising slowly along the Styx onepleasant Friday morning not long ago, and as he paddled idly on hechuckled mildly to himself as he thought of the monopoly in ferriagewhich in the course of years he had managed to build up. "It's a great thing, " he said, with a smirk of satisfaction--"it's agreat thing to be the go-between between two states of being; to have theexclusive franchise to export and import shades from one state to theother, and withal to have had as clean a record as mine has been. Valuable as is my franchise, I never corrupted a public official in mylife, and--" Here Charon stopped his soliloquy and his boat simultaneously. As herounded one of the many turns in the river a singular object met hisgaze, and one, too, that filled him with misgiving. It was anothercraft, and that was a thing not to be tolerated. Had he, Charon, ownedthe exclusive right of way on the Styx all these years to have itdisputed here in the closing decade of the Nineteenth Century? Had nothe dealt satisfactorily with all, whether it was in the line of ferriageor in the providing of boats for pleasure-trips up the river? Had he notreceived expressions of satisfaction, indeed, from the most exclusivefamilies of Hades with the very select series of picnics he had given atCharon's Glen Island? No wonder, then, that the queer-looking boat thatmet 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 audiblewhisper. "And shiver my timbers if I don't find out what she's therefor. If anybody thinks he can run an opposition line to mine on thisriver he's mightily mistaken. If it comes to competition, I can carryshades for nothing and still quaff the B. & G. Yellow-label benzine threetimes a day without experiencing a financial panic. I'll show 'em athing or two if they attempt to rival me. And what a boat! It looks forall the world like a Florentine barn on a canal-boat. " Charon paddled up to the side of the craft, and, standing up in themiddle of his boat, cried out, "Ship ahoy!" There was no answer, and the Ferryman hailed her again. Receiving noresponse to his second call, he resolved to investigate for himself; so, fastening his own boat to the stern-post of the stranger, he clambered onboard. If he was astonished as he sat in his ferry-boat, he wasparalyzed 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 overa long, broad deck, the polish of which resembled that of a ball-roomfloor. Amidships, running from three-quarters aft to three-quartersforward, stood a structure that in its lines resembled, as Charon hadintimated, a barn, designed by an architect enamoured of Florentinesimplicity; but in its construction the richest of woods had been used, and in its interior arrangement and adornment nothing more palatial couldbe 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 afraidI'm done for after all. I wouldn't take a boat like mine myself if therewas a floating palace like this going the same way. I'll have to see theCommissioners about this, and find out what it all means. I supposeit'll cost me a pretty penny, too, confound them!" A prey to these unhappy reflections, Charon investigated further, and themore he saw the less he liked it. He was about to encounter opposition, and an opposition which was apparently backed by persons of greatwealth--perhaps the Commissioners themselves. It was a consoling thoughtthat he had saved enough money in the course of his career to enable himto live in comfort all his days, but this was not really what Charon wasafter. He wished to acquire enough to retire and become one of the smartset. It had been done in that section of the universe which lay on thebright 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 tosay. "With Chaos for a grandfather, and Erebus and Nox for parents, I'vejust as good blood in my veins as anybody in Hades. The Noxes are amighty fine family, not as bright as the Days, but older; and we'repoor--that's it, poor--and it's money makes caste these days. If I hadmillions, and owned a railroad, they'd call me a yacht-owner. As Ihaven't, I'm only a boatman. Bah! Wait and see! I'll be giving swellfunctions myself some day, and these upstarts will be on their kneesbefore me begging to be asked. Then I'll get up a little aristocracy ofmy own, and I won't let a soul into it whose name isn't mentioned in theGrecian mythologies. Mention in Burke's peerage and the Elitedirectories of America won't admit anybody to Commodore Charon's houseunless there's some other mighty good reason for it. " Foreseeing an unhappy ending to all his hopes, the old man clamberedsadly back into his ancient vessel and paddled off into the darkness. Some hours later, returning with a large company of new arrivals, whilecounting up the profits of the day Charon again caught sight of the newcraft, and saw that it was brilliantly lighted and thronged with the mostfamous citizens of the Erebean country. Up in the bow was a spirit banddiscoursing music of the sweetest sort. Merry peals of laughter rang outover the dark waters of the Styx. The clink of glasses and the poppingof corks punctuated the music with a frequency which would have delightedthe soul of the most ardent lover of commas, all of which so overpoweredthe grand master boatman of the Stygian Ferry Company that he droppedthree oboli and an American dime, which he carried as a pocket-piece, overboard. This, of course, added to his woe; but it was forgotten in aninstant, for some one on the new boat had turned a search-light directlyupon Charon himself, and simultaneously hailed the master of the ferry-boat. "Charon!" cried the shade in charge of the light. "Charon, ahoy!" "Ahoy yourself!" returned the old man, paddling his craft close up to thestranger. "What do you want?" "You, " said the shade. "The house committee want to see you right away. " "What for?" asked Charon, cautiously. "I'm sure I don't know. I'm only a member of the club, and housecommittees never let mere members know anything about their plans. All Iknow is that you are wanted, " said the other. "Who are the house committee?" queried the Ferryman. "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 gota cargo of shades on board consigned to various places up the river. I'vepromised to get 'em all through to-night, but I'll put on a couple ofextra paddles--two of the new arrivals are working their passage thistrip--and it won't take as long as usual. What boat is this, anyhow?" "The _Nancy Nox_, of Erebus. " "Thunder!" cried Charon, as he pushed off and proceeded on his way up theriver. "Named after my mother! Perhaps it'll come out all right yet. " More hopeful of mood, Charon, aided by the two dead-head passengers, soongot through with his evening's work, and in less than an hour was backseeking admittance, as requested, to the company of Sir Walter Raleighand his fellow-members on the house committee. He was received by theseworthies with considerable effusiveness, considering his position insociety, and it warmed the cockles of his aged heart to note that SirWalter, who had always been rather distant to him since he had carelesslyupset that worthy and Queen Elizabeth in the middle of the Styx far backin the last century, permitted him to shake three fingers of his lefthand when he entered the committee-room. "How do you do, Charon?" said Sir Walter, affably. "We are very glad tosee you. " "Thank you, kindly, Sir Walter, " said the boatman. "I'm glad to hearthose words, your honor, for I've been feeling very bad since I had themisfortune to drop your Excellency and her Majesty overboard. I neverknew how it happened, sir, but happen it did, and but for her Majesty'skind assistance it might have been the worse for us. Eh, Sir Walter?" The knight shook his head menacingly at Charon. Hitherto he had managedto keep it a secret that the Queen had rescued him from drowning uponthat occasion by swimming ashore herself first and throwing Sir Walterher ruff as soon as she landed, which he had used as a life-preserver. "'Sh!" he said, _sotto voce_. "Don't say anything about that, my man. " "Very well, Sir Walter, I won't, " said the boatman; but he made a mentalnote of the knight's agitation, and perceived a means by which thatillustrious courtier could be made useful to him in his scheming forsocial advancement. "I understood you had something to say to me, " said Charon, after he hadgreeted the others. "We have, " said Sir Walter. "We want you to assume command of thisboat. " The old fellow's eyes lighted up with pleasure. "You want a captain, eh?" he said. "No, " said Confucius, tapping the table with a diamond-studdedchop-stick. "No. We want a--er--what the deuce is it they call thefunctionary, Cassius?" "Senator, I think, " said Cassius. Demosthenes gave a loud laugh. "Your mind is still running on Senatorships, my dear Cassius. That isquite evident, " he said. "This is not one of them, however. The titlewe wish Charon to assume is neither Captain nor Senator; it is Janitor. " "What's that?" asked Charon, a little disappointed. "What does a Janitorhave to do?" "He has to look after things in the house, " explained Sir Walter. "He'sa sort of proprietor by proxy. We want you to take charge of the house, and see to it that the boat is kept shipshape. " "Where is the house?" queried the astonished boatman. "This is it, " said Sir Walter. "This is the house, and the boat too. Infact, it is a house-boat. " "Then it isn't a new-fangled scheme to drive me out of business?" saidCharon, warily. "Not at all, " returned Sir Walter. "It's a new-fangled scheme to set youup in business. We'll pay you a large salary, and there won't be much todo. You are the best man for the place, because, while you don't knowmuch about houses, you do know a great deal about boats, and the boatpart is the most important part of a house-boat. If the boat sinks, youcan't save the house; but if the house burns, you may be able to save theboat. See?" "I think I do, sir, " said Charon. "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 ofthe Styx; and we think you as Janitor would be able to make betterarrangements for transportation with yourself as boatman, than some otherman as Janitor could make with you. " "Spoken like a sage, " said Demosthenes. "Furthermore, " said Cassius, "occasionally we shall want to have thisboat towed up or down the river, according to the house committee'spleasure, and we think it would be well to have a Janitor who has someinfluence with the towing company which you represent. " "Can't this boat be moved without towing?" asked Charon. "No, " said Cassius. "And I'm the only man who can tow it, eh?" "You are, " said Blackstone. "Worse luck. " "And you want me to be Janitor on a salary of what?" "A hundred oboli a month, " said Sir Walter, uneasily. "Very well, gentlemen, " said Charon. "I'll accept the office on a salaryof two hundred oboli a month, with Saturdays off. " The committee went into executive session for five minutes, and on theirreturn informed Charon that in behalf of the Associated Shades theyaccepted his offer. "In behalf of what?" the old man asked. "The Associated Shades, " said Sir Walter. "The swellest organization inHades, whose new house-boat you are now on board of. When shall you beready to begin work?" "Right away, " said Charon, noting by the clock that it was the hour ofmidnight. "I'll start in right away, and as it is now Saturday morning, I'll begin by taking my day off. " CHAPTER II: A DISPUTED AUTHORSHIP "How are you, Charon?" said Shakespeare, as the Janitor assisted him onboard. "Any one here to-night?" "Yes, sir, " said Charon. "Lord Bacon is up in the library, and DoctorJohnson is down in the billiard-room, playing pool with Nero. " "Ha-ha!" laughed Shakespeare. "Pool, eh? Does Nero play pool?" "Not as well as he does the fiddle, sir, " said the Janitor, with atwinkle in his eye. Shakespeare entered the house and tossed up an obolus. "Heads--Bacon;tails--pool with Nero and Johnson, " he said. The coin came down with heads up, and Shakespeare went into thepool-room, just to show the Fates that he didn't care a tuppence fortheir verdict as registered through the obolus. It was a peculiar customof Shakespeare's to toss up a coin to decide questions of littleconsequence, and then do the thing the coin decided he should not do. Itshowed, in Shakespeare's estimation, his entire independence of thosedull persons who supposed that in them was centred the destiny of allmankind. The Fates, however, only smiled at these little acts ofrebellion, and it was common gossip in Erebus that one of the trio hadtold the Furies that they had observed Shakespeare's tendency to kickover the traces, and always acted accordingly. They never let the coinfall so as to decide a question the way they wanted it, so thatunwittingly the great dramatist did their will after all. It was a partof their plan that upon this occasion Shakespeare should play pool withDoctor Johnson and the Emperor Nero, and hence it was that the coin badehim repair to the library and chat with Lord Bacon. "Hullo, William, " said the Doctor, pocketing three balls on the break. "How's our little Swanlet of Avon this afternoon?" "Worn out, " Shakespeare replied. "I've been hard at work on a play thismorning, and I'm tired. " "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, " said Nero, grinningbroadly. "You are a bright spirit, " said Shakespeare, with a sigh. "I wish I hadthought to work you up into a tragedy. " "I've often wondered why you didn't, " said Doctor Johnson. "He'd havemade a superb tragedy, Nero would. I don't believe there was any kind ofa crime he left uncommitted. Was there, Emperor?" "Yes. I never wrote an English dictionary, " returned the Emperor, dryly. "I've murdered everything but English, though. " "I could have made a fine tragedy out of you, " said Shakespeare. "Justthink what a dreadful climax for a tragedy it would be, Johnson, to haveNero, as the curtain fell, playing a violin solo. " "Pretty good, " returned the Doctor. "But what's the use of killing offyour audience that way? It's better business to let 'em live, I say. Suppose Nero gave a London audience that little musicale he provided atQueen Elizabeth's Wednesday night. How many purely mortal beings, do youthink, would have come out alive?" "Not one, " said Shakespeare. "I was mighty glad that night that we werean immortal band. If it had been possible to kill us we'd have died thenand there. " "That's all right, " said Nero, with a significant shake of his head. "Asmy friend Bacon makes Ingo say, 'Beware, my lord, of jealousy. ' Younever could play a garden hose, much less a fiddle. " "What do you mean my attributing those words to Bacon?" demandedShakespeare, getting red in the face. "Oh, come now, William, " remonstrated Nero. "It's all right to pull thewool over the eyes of the mortals. That's what they're there for; but asfor us--we're all in the secret here. What's the use of putting onnonsense with us?" "We'll see in a minute what the use is, " retorted the Avonian. "We'llhave Bacon down here. " Here he touched an electric button, and Charoncame in answer. "Charon, bring Doctor Johnson the usual glass of ale. Get some ice forthe Emperor, and ask Lord Bacon to step down here a minute. " "I don't want any ice, " said Nero. "Not now, " retorted Shakespeare, "but you will in a few minutes. When wehave finished with you, you'll want an iceberg. I'm getting tired ofthis idiotic talk about not having written my own works. There's onething about Nero's music that I've never said, because I haven't wantedto hurt his feelings, but since he has chosen to cast aspersions upon myhonesty I haven't any hesitation in saying it now. I believe it was oneof his fiddlings that sent Nature into convulsions and caused thedestruction of Pompeii--so there! Put that on your music rack and fiddleit, my little Emperor. " Nero's face grew purple with anger, and if Shakespeare had been anythingbut a shade he would have fared ill, for the enraged Roman, poising hiscue on high as though it were a lance, hurled it at the impertinentdramatist with all his strength, and with such accuracy of aim withalthat it pierced the spot beneath which in life the heart of Shakespeareused to beat. "Good shot, " said Doctor Johnson, nonchalantly. "If you had been amortal, William, it would have been the end of you. " "You can't kill me, " said Shakespeare, shrugging his shoulders. "I knowseven dozen actors in the United States who are trying to do it, but theycan'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. Itwas the coldest house you ever saw in your life. When the audience didapplaud, it sounded like an ice-man chopping up ice with a small pick. Several times I looked up at the galleries to see if there were noticicles growing on them, it was so cold. Well, I did the best could withthe part, and next morning watched curiously for the criticisms. " "Favorable?" asked the Doctor. "They all dismissed me with a line, " said the dramatist. "Said myconception of the part was not Shakespearian. And that's criticism!" "No, " said the shade of Emerson, which had strolled in while Shakespearewas talking, "that isn't criticism; that's Boston. " "Who discovered Boston, anyhow?" asked Doctor Johnson. "It wasn'tColumbus, was it?" "Oh no, " said Emerson. "Old Governor Winthrop is to blame for that. Whenhe settled at Charlestown he saw the old Indian town of Shawmut acrossthe Charles. " "And Shawmut was the Boston microbe, was it?" asked Johnson. "Yes, " said Emerson. "Spelt with a P, I suppose?" said Shakespeare. "P-S-H-A-W, Pshaw, M-U-T, mut, Pshawmut, so called because the inhabitants are always mutteringpshaw. Eh?" "Pretty good, " said Johnson. "I wish I'd said that. " "Well, tell Boswell, " said Shakespeare. "He'll make you say it, andit'll be all the same in a hundred years. " Lord Bacon, accompanied by Charon and the ice for Nero and the ale forDoctor Johnson, appeared as Shakespeare spoke. The philosopher bowedstiffly at Doctor Johnson, as though he hardly approved of him, extendedhis left hand to Shakespeare, and stared coldly at Nero. "Did you send for me, William?" he asked, languidly. "I did, " said Shakespeare. "I sent for you because this imperialviolinist here says that you wrote _Othello_. " "What nonsense, " said Bacon. "The only plays of yours I wrote were_Ham_--" "Sh!" said Shakespeare, shaking his head madly. "Hush. Nobody's saidanything about that. This is purely a discussion of _Othello_. " "The fiddling ex-Emperor Nero, " said Bacon, loudly enough to be heard allabout the room, "is mistaken when he attributes _Othello_ to me. " "Aha, Master Nero!" cried Shakespeare triumphantly. "What did I tellyou?" "Then I erred, that is all, " said Nero. "And I apologize. But really, my Lord, " he added, addressing Bacon, "I fancied I detected your fineItalian hand in that. " "No. I had nothing to do with the _Othello_, " said Bacon. "I neverreally knew who wrote it. " "Never mind about that, " whispered Shakespeare. "You've said enough. " "That's good too, " said Nero, with a chuckle. "Shakespeare here claimsit as his own. " Bacon smiled and nodded approvingly at the blushing Avonian. "Will always was having his little joke, " he said. "Eh, Will? How wefooled 'em on _Hamlet_, eh, my boy? Ha-ha-ha! It was the greatest jokeof the century. " "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 acloser resemblance to Simple Simon than to Socrates. For my part, Idon't believe you did write it, and I do believe that Shakespeare did. Ican tell that by the spelling in the original edition. " "Shakespeare was my stenographer, gentlemen, " said Lord Bacon. "If youwant to know the whole truth, he did write _Hamlet_, literally. But itwas at my dictation. " "I deny it, " said Shakespeare. "I admit you gave me a suggestion now andthen so as to keep it dull and heavy in spots, so that it would seem morelike a real tragedy than a comedy punctuated with deaths, but beyond thatyou had nothing to do with it. " "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 badhand as an amanuensis. It's no use, Bacon, we know a thing or two. I'ma New-Englander, I am. " "Well, " said Bacon, shrugging his shoulders as though the results of thecontroversy were immaterial to him, "have it so if you please. Thereisn't any money in Shakespeare these days, so what's the use ofquarrelling? I wrote _Hamlet_, and Shakespeare knows it. Others knowit. Ah, here comes Sir Walter Raleigh. We'll leave it to him. He wascognizant of the whole affair. " "I leave it to nobody, " said Shakespeare, sulkily. "What's the trouble?" asked Raleigh, sauntering up and taking a chairunder the cue-rack. "Talking politics?" "Not we, " said Bacon. "It's the old question about the authorship of_Hamlet_. Will, as usual, claims it for himself. He'll be saying hewrote Genesis next. " "Well, what if he does?" laughed Raleigh. "We all know Will and hisdroll ways. " "No doubt, " put in Nero. "But the question of _Hamlet_ always exciteshim so that we'd like to have it settled once and for all as to who wroteit. Bacon says you know. " "I do, " said Raleigh. "Then settle it once and for all, " said Bacon. "I'm rather tired of thediscussion myself. " "Shall I tell 'em, Shakespeare?" asked Raleigh. "It's immaterial to me, " said Shakespeare, airily. "If you wish--onlytell the truth. " "Very well, " said Raleigh, lighting a cigar. "I'm not ashamed of it. Iwrote the thing myself. " There was a roar of laughter which, when it subsided, found Shakespearerapidly disappearing through the door, while all the others in the roomordered various beverages at the expense of Lord Bacon. CHAPTER III: WASHINGTON GIVES A DINNER It was Washington's Birthday, and the gentleman who had the pleasure ofbeing Father of his Country decided to celebrate it at the AssociatedShades' floating palace on the Styx, as the Elysium _Weekly Gossip_, "aJournal of Society, " called it, by giving a dinner to a select number offriends. Among the invited guests were Baron Munchausen, Doctor Johnson, Confucius, Napoleon Bonaparte, Diogenes, and Ptolemy. Boswell was alsopresent, but not as a guest. He had a table off to one side all tohimself, and upon it there were no china plates, silver spoons, knives, forks, and dishes of fruit, but pads, pens, and ink in great quantity. Itwas evident that Boswell's reportorial duties did not end with his laborsin the mundane sphere. The dinner was set down to begin at seven o'clock, so that the guests, aswas proper, sauntered slowly in between that hour and eight. The menuwas particularly choice, the shades of countless canvas-back ducks, terrapin, and sheep having been called into requisition, and cooked by noless a person than Brillat-Savarin, in the hottest oven he could find inthe famous cooking establishment superintended by the government. Washington was on hand early, sampling the olives and the celery and thewines, and giving to Charon final instructions as to the manner in whichhe wished things served. The first guest to arrive was Confucius, and after him came Diogenes, thelatter in great excitement over having discovered a comparatively honestman, whose name, however, he had not been able to ascertain, though hewas under the impression that it was something like Burpin, or Turpin, hesaid. At eight the brilliant company was arranged comfortably about the board. An orchestra of five, under the leadership of Mozart, discoursed sweetmusic behind a screen, and the feast of reason and flow of soul began. "This is a great day, " said Doctor Johnson, assisting himself copiouslyto the olives. "Yes, " said Columbus, who was also a guest--"yes, it is a great day, butit isn't a marker to a little day in October I wot of. " "Still sore on that point?" queried Confucius, trying the edge of hisknife on the shade of a salted almond. "Oh no, " said Columbus, calmly. "I don't feel jealous of Washington. Heis 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'tanybody 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 tolet my name be known in connection with it. Why should I be jealous ofhim?" "I am sure I don't know why anybody anywhere should be jealous of anybodyelse 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 honestman. 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 thatBoswell could not fail to hear. "I wasn't there. " Boswell nodded approvingly, chuckled slightly, and put the Doctor'sremark down for publication in _The Gossip_. "You're doubtless right, there, " retorted Diogenes. "What you don't knowwould fill a circulating library. Well--I lived in a tub. Now, if Ibelieved in envy, I suppose you think I'd be envious of people who livein brownstone fronts with back yards and mortgages, eh?" "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 Iwouldn't. In the first place, my tub was warm. I never saw a house witha brownstone front that was, except in summer, and then the owner cursedit 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 afterdinner, or late at night when I came home from the club. It had no frontdoor with a wandering key-hole calculated to elude the key ninety-ninetimes out of every hundred efforts to bring the two together andreconcile their differences, in order that their owner may get into hisown house late at night. It wasn't chained down to any particularneighborhood, as are most brownstone fronts. If the neighborhood randown, I could move my tub off into a better neighborhood, and it neverlost value through the deterioration of its location. I never had to paytaxes on it, and no burglar was ever so hard up that he thought ofbreaking into my habitation to rob me. So why should I be jealous of thebrownstone-house dwellers? I am a philosopher, gentlemen. I tell you, philosophy is the thief of jealousy, and I had the good-luck to find itout early in life. " "There is much in what you say, " said Confucius. "But there's anotherside to the matter. If a man is an aristocrat by nature, as I was, hisneighborhood never could run down. Wherever he lived would be the swellsection, so that really your last argument isn't worth a stewed icicle. " "Stewed icicles are pretty good, though, " said Baron Munchausen, with anecstatic smack of his lips. "I've eaten them many a time in the polarregions. " "I have no doubt of it, " put in Doctor Johnson. "You've eaten friedpyramids 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 digestion. " "That's so, " said Ptolemy. "I've had experience with pyramids myself. " "You never ate one, did you, Ptolemy?" queried Bonaparte. "Not raw, " said Ptolemy, with a chuckle. "Though I've been tempted manya time to call for a second joint of the Sphinx. " There was a laugh at this, in which all but Baron Munchausen joined. "I think it is too bad, " said the Baron, as the laughter subsided--"Ithink it is very much too bad that you shades have brought mundaneprejudice with you into this sphere. Just because some people withfinite minds profess to disbelieve my stories, you think it well to besceptical yourselves. I don't care, however, whether you believe me ornot. The fact remains that I have eaten one fried pyramid and countlessstewed icicles, and the stewed icicles were finer than any diamond-backrat Confucius ever had served at a state banquet. " "Where's Shakespeare to-night?" asked Confucius, seeing that the Baronwas beginning to lose his temper, and wishing to avoid trouble bychanging the subject. "Wasn't he invited, General?" "Yes, " said Washington, "he was invited, but he couldn't come. He had togo over the river to consult with an autograph syndicate they've formedin New York. You know, his autographs sell for about one thousanddollars apiece, and they're trying to get up a scheme whereby he shallcontribute an autograph a week to the syndicate, to be sold to thepublic. 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 mortalscan't be made to believe that they are genuine; but the syndicate has gota man at work trying to get over that. These Yankees are a mightyinventive lot, and they think perhaps the scheme can be worked. TheYankee _is_ an inventive genius. " "It was a Yankee invented that tale about your not being able toprevaricate, wasn't it, George?" asked Diogenes. Washington smiled acquiescence, and Doctor Johnson returned toShakespeare. "I'd rather have a morning-glory vine than one of Shakespeare'sautographs, " said he. "They are far prettier, and quite as legible. " "Mortals wouldn't, " said Bonaparte. "What fools they be!" chuckled Johnson. At this point the canvas-back ducks were served, one whole shade of abird for each guest. "Fall to, gentlemen, " said Washington, gazing hungrily at his bird. "Whencanvas-back ducks are on the table conversation is not required of anyone. " "It is fortunate for us that we have so considerate a host, " saidConfucius, unfastening his robe and preparing to do justice to the fareset before him. "I have dined often, but never before with one who waswilling to let me eat a bird like this in silence. Washington, here's toyou. May your life be chequered with birthdays, and may ours be equallywell supplied with feasts like this at your expense!" The toast was drained, and the diners fell to as requested. "They're great, aren't they?" whispered Bonaparte to Munchausen. "Well, rather, " returned the Baron. "I don't see why the mortals don'terect a statue to the canvas-back. " "Did anybody at this board ever have as much canvas-back duck as he couldeat?" asked Doctor Johnson. "Yes, " said the Baron. "I did. Once. " "Oh, you!" sneered Ptolemy. "You've had everything. " "Except the mumps, " retorted Munchausen. "But, honestly, I did once haveas much canvas-back duck as I could eat. " "It must have cost you a million, " said Bonaparte. "But even then they'dbe cheap, especially to a man like yourself who could perform miracles. If I could have performed miracles with the ease which was socharacteristic of all your efforts, I'd never have died at St. Helena. " "What's the odds where you died?" said Doctor Johnson. "If it hadn'tbeen at St. Helena it would have been somewhere else, and you'd havefound death as stuffy in one place as in another. " "Don't let's talk of death, " said Washington. "I am sure the Baron'stale of how he came to have enough canvas-back is more diverting. " "I've no doubt it is more perverting, " said Johnson. "It happened this way, " said Munchausen. "I was out for sport, and I gotit. I was alone, my servant having fallen ill, which was unfortunate, since I had always left the filling of my cartridge-box to him, andunderestimated its capacity. I started at six in the morning, and, nothaving hunted for several months, was not in very good form, so, no gameappearing for a time, I took a few practice shots, trying to snip off theslender tops of the pine-trees that I encountered with my bullets, succeeding tolerably well for one who was a little rusty, bringing downninety-nine out of the first one hundred and one, and missing theremaining two by such a close margin that they swayed to and fro asthough fanned by a slight breeze. As I fired my one hundred and firstshot what should I see before me but a flock of these delicate birdsfloating upon the placid waters of the bay!" "Was this the Bay of Biscay, Baron?" queried Columbus, with a covertsmile at Ptolemy. "I counted them, " said the Baron, ignoring the question, "and there werejust sixty-eight. 'Here's a chance for the record, Baron, ' said I tomyself, and then I made ready to shoot them. Imagine my dismay, gentlemen, when I discovered that while I had plenty of powder left I hadused up all my bullets. Now, as you may imagine, to a man with nobullets at hand, the sight of sixty-eight fat canvas-backs is hardlyencouraging, but I was resolved to have every one of those birds; thequestion was, how shall I do it? I never can think on water, so Ipaddled quietly ashore and began to reflect. As I lay there deep inthought, I saw lying upon the beach before me a superb oyster, and asreflection makes me hungry I seized upon the bivalve and swallowed him. As he went down something stuck in my throat, and, extricating it, whatshould it prove to be but a pearl of surpassing beauty. My first thoughtwas to be content with my day's find. A pearl worth thousands surely wasenough to satisfy the most ardent lover of sport; but on looking up I sawthose ducks still paddling contentedly about, and I could not bringmyself to give them up. Suddenly the idea came, the pearl is as large asa bullet, and fully as round. Why not use it? Then, as thoughts come tome in shoals, I next reflected, 'Ah--but this is only one bullet asagainst sixty-eight birds:' immediately a third thought came, 'why notshoot them all with a single bullet? It is possible, though notprobable. ' I snatched out a pad of paper and a pencil, made a rapidcalculation based on the doctrine of chances, and proved to my ownsatisfaction that at some time or another within the following two weeksthose birds would doubtless be sitting in a straight line and paddlingabout, Indian file, for an instant. I resolved to await that instant. Iloaded my gun with the pearl and a sufficient quantity of powder to sendthe charge through every one of the ducks if, perchance, the first duckwere properly hit. To pass over wearisome details, let me say that ithappened just as I expected. I had one week and six days to wait, butfinally the critical moment came. It was at midnight, but fortunatelythe moon was at the full, and I could see as plainly as though it hadbeen day. The moment the ducks were in line I aimed and fired. Theyevery one squawked, turned over, and died. My pearl had pierced thewhole sixty-eight. " Boswell blushed. "Ahem!" said Doctor Johnson. "It was a pity to lose the pearl. " "That, " said Munchausen, "was the most interesting part of the story. Ihad made a second calculation in order to save the pearl. I deduced theamount of powder necessary to send the gem through sixty-seven and a halfbirds, and my deduction was strictly accurate. It fulfilled its missionof death on sixty-seven and was found buried in the heart of the sixty-eighth, a trifle discolored, but still a pearl, and worth a king'sransom. " Napoleon gave a derisive laugh, and the other guests sat with incredulitydepicted upon every line of their faces. "Do you believe that story yourself, Baron?" asked Confucius. "Why not?" asked the Baron. "Is there anything improbable in it? Whyshould you disbelieve it? Look at our friend Washington here. Is thereany one here who knows more about truth than he does? He doesn'tdisbelieve it. He's the only man at this table who treats me like a manof honor. " "He's host and has to, " said Johnson, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, Washington, let me put the direct question to you, " said theBaron. "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 anauthority. I can't tell a lie--not even when I hear one. If you sayyour story is true, I must believe it, of course; but--ah--really, if Iwere you, I wouldn't tell it again unless I could produce the pearl andthe wish-bone 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 toaccompany him over into the world of realities, where they passed thebalance of the evening haunting a vaudeville performance at one of theLondon music-halls. CHAPTER IV: HAMLET MAKES A SUGGESTION It was a beautiful night on the Styx, and the silvery surface of thatpicturesque stream was dotted with gondolas, canoes, and other craft toan extent that made Charon feel like a highly prosperous savings-bank. Within the house-boat were gathered a merry party, some of whom were onmere pleasure bent, others of whom had come to listen to a debate, forwhich the entertainment committee had provided, between the venerablepatriarch Noah and the late eminent showman P. T. Barnum. The questionto be debated was upon the resolution passed by the committee, that "TheAnimals of the Antediluvian Period were Far More Attractive for ShowPurposes than those of Modern Make, " and, singular to relate, theaffirmative was placed in the hands of Mr. Barnum, while to Noah hadfallen the task of upholding the virtues of the modern freak. It is withthe party on mere pleasure bent that we have to do upon this occasion. The proceedings of the debating-party are as yet in the hands of theofficial stenographer, but will be made public as soon as they are ready. The pleasure-seeking group were gathered in the smoking-room of the club, which was, indeed, a smoking-room of a novel sort, the invention of anunknown shade, who had sold all the rights to the club through a thirdparty, anonymously, preferring, it seemed, to remain in the Elysianworld, as he had been in the mundane sphere, a mute inglorious Edison. Itwas a simple enough scheme, and, for a wonder, no one in the world ofsubstantialities has thought to take it up. The smoke was stored inreservoirs, just as if it were so much gas or water, and was supplied onthe hot-air furnace principle from a huge furnace in the hold of thehouse-boat, into which tobacco was shovelled by the hired man of the clubnight and day. The smoke from the furnace, carried through flues to thesmoking-room, was there received and stored in the reservoirs, with eachof which was connected one dozen rubber tubes, having at their ends ambermouth-pieces. Upon each of these mouth-pieces was arranged a small meterregistering the amount of smoke consumed through it, and for this theconsumer paid so much a foot. The value of the plan was threefold. Itdid away entirely with ashes, it saved to the consumers the value of theunconsumed tobacco that is represented by the unsmoked cigar ends, and itaverted the possibility of cigarettes. Enjoying the benefits of this arrangement upon the evening in questionwere Shakespeare, Cicero, Henry VIII. , Doctor Johnson, and others. Ofcourse Boswell was present too, for a moment, with his note-book, andthis fact evoked some criticism from several of the smokers. "You ought to be up-stairs in the lecture-room, Boswell, " saidShakespeare, as the great biographer took his seat behind his friend theDoctor. "Doesn't the _Gossip_ want a report of the debate?" "It does, " said Boswell; "but the _Gossip_ endeavors always to get themost interesting items of the day, and Doctor Johnson has informed methat 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 theface over this unexpected confession, "but, really, you talk too much. " "That's good, " said Cicero. "Stick that down, Boz, and print it. It'sthe best thing Johnson has said this week. " Boswell smiled weakly, and said: "But, Doctor, you did say that, youknow. I can prove it, too, for you told me some of the things you weregoing to say. Don't you remember, you were going to lead Shakespeare upto making the remark that he thought the English language was thegreatest language in creation, whereupon you were going to ask him why hedidn't learn it?" "Get out of here, you idiot!" roared the Doctor. "You're enough to givea man apoplexy. " "You're not going back on the ladder by which you have climbed, are you, Samuel?" queried Boswell, earnestly. "The wha-a-t?" cried the Doctor, angrily. "The ladder--on which Iclimbed? You? Great heavens! That it should come to this! . . . Leavethe room--instantly! Ladder! By all that is beautiful--the ladder uponwhich I, Samuel Johnson, the tallest person in letters, have climbed! Go!Do you hear?" Boswell rose meekly, and, with tears coursing down his cheeks, left theroom. "That's one on you, Doctor, " said Cicero, wrapping his toga about him. "Ithink you ought to order up three baskets of champagne on that. " "I'll order up three baskets full of Boswell's remains if he ever daresspeak like that again!" retorted the Doctor, shaking with anger. "He--myladder--why, it's ridiculous. " "Yes, " said Shakespeare, dryly. "That's why we laugh. " "You were a little hard on him, Doctor, " said Henry VIII. "He was avaluable man to you. He had a great eye for your greatness. " "Yes. If there's any feature of Boswell that's greater than his nose andears, it's his great I, " said the Doctor. "You'd rather have him change his I to a U, I presume, " said Napoleon, quietly. The Doctor waved his hand impatiently. "Let's drop him, " he said. "Dropping one's biographer isn't without precedent. As soon as any manever got to know Napoleon well enough to write him up he sent him to thefront, where he could get a little lead in his system. " "I wish I had had a Boswell all the same, " said Shakespeare. "Then theworld would have known the truth about me. " "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 thedoorway, more melancholy of aspect than ever. "What's the matter with you?" asked Cicero, addressing the new-comer. "Haven't you got that poison out of your system yet?" "Not entirely, " said Hamlet, with a sigh; "but it isn't that that'sbothering me. It's Fate. " "We'll get out an injunction against Fate if you like, " said Blackstone. "Is it persecution, or have you deserved it?" "I think it's persecution, " said Hamlet. "I never wronged Fate in mylife, and why she should pursue me like a demon through all eternity is athing I can't understand. " "Maybe Ophelia is back of it, " suggested Doctor Johnson. "These womenhave a great deal of sympathy for each other, and, candidly, I think youbehaved pretty rudely to Ophelia. It's a poor way to show your love fora young woman, running a sword through her father every night for pay, and driving the girl to suicide with equal frequency, just to showtheatre-goers what a smart little Dane you can be if you try. " "'Tisn't me does all that, " returned Hamlet. "I only did it once, andeven then it wasn't as bad as Shakespeare made it out to be. " "I put it down just as it was, " said Shakespeare, hotly, "and you can'tdispute 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 neverentered the graveyard even, and I can prove an alibi. " "And, what's more, he couldn't have made the remark the way Shakespearehas it, anyhow, " said Yorick, "and for a very good reason. I wasn'tburied in that graveyard, and Hamlet and I can prove an alibi for theskull, too. " "It was a good play, just the same, " said Cicero. "Very, " put in Doctor Johnson. "It cured me of insomnia. " "Well, if you don't talk in your sleep, the play did a Christian serviceto the world, " retorted Shakespeare. "But, really, Hamlet, I thought Idid the square thing by you in that play. I meant to, anyhow; and if ithas made you unhappy, I'm honestly sorry. " "Spoken like a man, " said Yorick. "I don't mind the play so much, " said Hamlet, "but the way I'mrepresented by these fellows who play it is the thing that rubs me thewrong way. Why, I even hear that there's a troupe out in the westernpart of the United States that puts the thing on with three Hamlets, twoghosts, and a pair of blood-hounds. It's called the Uncle-Tom-HamletCombination, and instead of my falling in love with one crazy Ophelia, Iam made to woo three dusky maniacs named Topsy on a canvas ice-floe, while the blood-hounds bark behind the scenes. What sort of treatment isthat for a man of royal lineage?" "It's pretty rough, " said Napoleon. "As the poet ought to have said, 'Oh, Hamlet, Hamlet, what crimes are committed in thy name!'" "I feel as badly about the play as Hamlet does, " said Shakespeare, aftera moment of silent thought. "I don't bother much about this wild Westernbusiness, though, because I think the introduction of the bloodhounds andthe Topsies makes us both more popular in that region than we should beotherwise. What I object to is the way we are treated by these so-calledfirst-class intellectual actors in London and other great cities. I'veseen Hamlet done before a highly cultivated audience, and, by Jove, itmade me blush. " "Me too, " sighed Hamlet. "I have seen a man who had a walk on him thatsuggested spring-halt and locomotor ataxia combined impersonating mygraceful self in a manner that drove me almost crazy. I've heard my 'Tobe or not to be' soliloquy uttered by a famous tragedian in tones thatwould make a graveyard yawn at mid-day, and if there was any way in whichI could get even with that man I'd do it. " "It seems to me, " said Blackstone, assuming for the moment a highlyjudicial manner--"it seems to me that Shakespeare, having got you intothis trouble, ought to get you out of it. " "But how?" said Shakespeare, earnestly. "That's the point. Heaven knowsI'm willing enough. " Hamlet's face suddenly brightened as though illuminated with an idea. Then he began to dance about the room with an expression of glee thatannoyed Doctor Johnson exceedingly. "I wish Darwin could see you now, " the Doctor growled. "A kodak pictureof you would prove his arguments conclusively. " "Rail on, O philosopher!" retorted Hamlet. "Rail on! I mind yourrailings not, for I the germ of an idea have got. " "Well, go quarantine yourself, " said the Doctor. "I'd hate to have oneof your idea microbes get hold of me. " "What's the scheme?" asked Shakespeare. "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 baithim 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. Thesecond act can be in a saw-mill, and we can cut his hair off on a buzz-saw. The third act can introduce a spile-driver with which to drive hishat over his eyes and knock his brains down into his lungs. The fourthact can be at Niagara Falls, and we'll send him over the falls; and for agrand climax we can have him guillotined just after he has swallowed aquart 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 inLondon, for two years in New York, and round up with a one-night stand inBoston. " "It sounds like a good scheme, " said Shakespeare, meditatively. "Whatshall we call it?" "Call it _Irving_, " said Eugene Aram, who had entered. "I too havesuffered. " "And let me be Hamlet's understudy, " said Charles the First, earnestly. "Done!" said Shakespeare, calling for a pad and pencil. And as the sun rose upon the Styx the next morning the Bard of Avon wasto be seen writing a comic chorus to be sung over the moribund tragedianby the shades of Charles, Aram, and other eminent deceased heroes of thestage, with which his new play of _Irving_ was to be brought to anappropriate close. This play has not as yet found its way upon the boards, but anyenterprising manager who desires to consider it may address _Hamlet_, _The House-Boat_, _Hades-on-the-Styx_. He is sure to get a reply by return mail, unless Mephistophelesinterferes, which is not unlikely, since Mephistopheles is said to havebeen much pleased with the manner in which the eminent tragedian has puthim before the British and American public. CHAPTER V: THE HOUSE COMMITTEE DISCUSS THE POETS "There's one thing this house-boat needs, " wrote Homer in the complaint-book that adorned the centre-table in the reading-room, "and that is aPoets' Corner. There are smoking-rooms for those who smoke, billiard-rooms for those who play billiards, and a card-room for those who playcards. I do not smoke, I can't play billiards, and I do not know a treyof diamonds from a silver salver. All I can do is write poetry. Whydiscriminate against me? By all means let us have a Poets' Corner, wherea man can be inspired in peace. " For four days this entry lay in the book apparently unnoticed. On thefifth day the following lines, signed by Samson, appeared: "I approve of Homer's suggestion. There should be a Poets' Corner here. Then the rest of us could have some comfort. While playing _vingt-et-un_with Diogenes in the card-room on Friday evening a poetic member of thisclub was taken with a most violent fancy, and it required the combinedefforts of Diogenes and myself, assisted by the janitor, to remove thefrenzied and objectionable member from the room. The habit some of ourpoets have acquired of giving way to their inspirations all over the club-house should be stopped, and I know of no better way to accomplish thisdesirable end than by the adoption of Homer's suggestion. Therefore Isecond the motion. " Of course the suggestion of two members so prominent as Homer and Samsoncould not well he ignored by the house committee, and it reluctantly tookthe subject in hand at an early meeting. "I find here, " said Demosthenes to the chairman, as the committeegathered, "a suggestion from Homer and Samson that this house-boat beprovided with a Poets' Corner. I do not know that I approve of thesuggestion myself, but in order to bring it before the committee fordebate I am willing to make a motion that the request be granted. " "Excuse me, " put in Doctor Johnson, "but where do you find thatsuggestion? 'Here' is not very definite. Where _is_ 'here'?" "In the complaint-book, which I hold in my hand, " returned Demosthenes, putting a pebble in his mouth so that he might enunciate more clearly. A frown ruffled the serenity of Doctor Johnson's brow. "In the complaint-book, eh?" he said, slowly. "I thought housecommittees were not expected to pay any attention to complaints incomplaint-books. I never heard of its being done before. " "Well, I can't say that I have either, " replied Demosthenes, chewingthoughtfully on the pebble, "but I suppose complaint-books are the placesfor complaints. You don't expect people to write serial stories ordialect poems in them, do you?" "That isn't the point, as the man said to the assassin who tried to stabhim with the hilt of his dagger, " retorted Doctor Johnson, with someasperity. "Of course, complaint-books are for the reception ofcomplaints--nobody disputes that. What I want to have determined iswhether it is necessary or proper for the complaints to go further. " "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 allthe clubs I have known the house committees have invariably taken theground that the complaint-book was established to guard them against theannoyance of hearing complaints. This one, however, has been forced uponus by our secretary, and in view of the age of the complainants I thinkwe cannot well decline to give them a specific answer. Respect for ageis _de rigueur_ at all times, like clean hands. I'll second the motion. " "I think the Poets' Corner entirely unnecessary, " said Confucius. "Thisisn't a class organization, and we should resist any effort to make it orany portion of it so. In fact, I will go further and state that it is myopinion that if we do any legislating in the matter at all, we ought todiscourage rather than encourage these poets. They are always litteringthe club up with themselves. Only last Wednesday I came here with aguest--no less a person than a recently deceased Emperor of China--andwhat was the first sight that greeted our eyes?" "I give it up, " said Doctor Johnson. "It must have been a catacorneredsight, whatever it was, if the Emperor's eyes slanted like yours. " "No personalities, please, Doctor, " said Sir Walter Raleigh, thechairman, rapping the table vigorously with the shade of a handsome gavelthat had once adorned the Roman Senate-chamber. "He's only a Chinaman!" muttered Johnson. "What was the sight that greeted your eyes, Confucius?" asked Cassius. "Omar Khayyam stretched over five of the most comfortable chairs in thelibrary, " returned Confucius; "and when I ventured to remonstrate withhim he lost his temper, and said I'd spoiled the whole second volume ofthe Rubaiyat. I told him he ought to do his rubaiyatting at home, and hemade a scene, to avoid which I hastened with my guest over to thebilliard-room; and there, stretched at full length on the pool-table, wasRobert Burns trying to write a sonnet on the cloth with chalk in lesstime than Villon could turn out another, with two lines start, on thebilliard-table with the same writing materials. Now I ask you, gentlemen, if these things are to be tolerated? Are they not rather tobe reprehended, whether I am a Chinaman or not?" "What would you have us do, then?" asked Sir Walter Raleigh, a littlenettled. "Exclude poets altogether? I was one, remember. " "Oh, but not much of one, Sir Walter, " put in Doctor Johnson, deprecatingly. "No, " said Confucius. "I don't want them excluded, but they should becontrolled. You don't let a shoemaker who has become a member of thisclub turn the library sofas into benches and go pegging away atboot-making, so why should you let the poets turn the place into a versefactory? That's what I'd like to know. " "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. Ashoemaker, my dear Confucius, is somewhat different from a poet. " "Certainly, " said Doctor Johnson. "Very different--in fact, differentenough to make a conundrum of the question--what is the differencebetween a shoemaker and a poet? One makes the shoes and the other shakesthe muse--all the difference in the world. Still, I don't see how we canexclude the poets. It is the very democracy of this club that gives itlife. We take in everybody--peer, poet, or what not. To say that thisman shall not enter because he is this or that or the other thing wouldresult in our ultimately becoming a class organization, which, asConfucius himself says, we are not and must not be. If we put out thepoet to please the sage, we'll soon have to put out the sage to pleasethe fool, and so on. We'll keep it up, once the precedent isestablished, until finally it will become a class club entirely--aPlumbers' Club, for instance--and 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'tobject to them. If we could have had political organizations in my day Imight not have had to fall on my sword to get out of keeping anengagement I had no fancy for. Class clubs have their uses. " "No doubt, " said Demosthenes. "Have all the class clubs you want, but donot make one of this. An Authors' Club, where none but authors areadmitted, is a good thing. The members learn there that there are otherauthors than themselves. Poets' Clubs are a good thing; they bring poetsinto contact with each other, and they learn what a bore it is to have tolisten to a poet reading his own poem. Pugilists' Clubs are good; so areall other class clubs; but so also are clubs like our own, which takes inall who are worthy. Here a poet can talk poetry as much as he wants, butat the same time he hears something besides poetry. We must stick to ouroriginal idea. " "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 beinspired between the hours of 11 A. M. And 5 P. M. , or in the evening aftereight; that any poet discovered using more than five arm-chairs in thecomposition of a quatrain will be charged two oboli an hour for eachchair in excess of that number; and that the billiard-marker shall berequired to charge a premium of three times the ordinary fee for tablesused by versifiers in lieu of writing-pads?" "That wouldn't be a bad idea, " said Sir Walter Raleigh. "I, as a poetwould not object to that. I do all my work at home, anyhow. " "There's another phase of this business that we haven't considered yet, and it's rather important, " said Demosthenes, taking a fresh pebble outof his bonbonniere. "That's in the matter of stationery. This club, like all other well-regulated clubs, provides its members with a suitablesupply of writing materials. Charon informs me that the waste-basketslast week turned out forty-two reams of our best correspondence paper onwhich these poets had scribbled the first draft of their verses. Now Idon't think the club should furnish the poets with the raw material fortheir poems any more than, to go back to Confucius's shoemaker, it shouldsupply leather for our cobblers. " "What do you mean by raw material for poems?" asked Sir Walter, with afrown. "Pen, ink, and paper. What else?" said Demosthenes. "Doesn't it take brains to write a poem?" said Raleigh. "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. "Aclear legal right to it. If they choose to write poems on the paperinstead of boring people to death with letters, as most of us do, that'stheir own affair. " "Well, they're very wasteful, " said Demosthenes. "We can meet that easily enough, " observed Cassius. "Furnish eachwriting-table with a slate. I should think they'd be pleased with that. It's so much easier to rub out the wrong word. " "Most poets prefer to rub out the right word, " growled Confucius. "Besides, I shall never consent to slates in this house-boat. Thesqueaking of the pencils would be worse than the poems themselves. " "That's true, " said Cassius. "I never thought of that. If a dozen poetsgot to work on those slates at once, a fife corps wouldn't be acircumstance to them. " "Well, it all goes to prove what I have thought all along, " said DoctorJohnson. "Homer's idea is a good one, and Samson was wise in backing itup. The poets need to be concentrated somewhere where they will not be anuisance to other people, and where other people will not be a nuisanceto them. Homer ought to have a place to compose in where the _vingt-et-un_ players will not interrupt his frenzies, and, on the other hand, the_vingt-et-un_ and other players should be protected from the wooers ofthe muse. I'll vote to have the Poets' Corner, and in it I move thatCassius's slate idea be carried out. It will be a great saving, and ifthe corner we select be far enough away from the other corners of theclub, the squeaking of the slate-pencils need bother no one. " "I agree to that, " said Blackstone. "Only I think it should beunderstood that, in granting the petition of the poets, we do not bindourselves to yield to doctors and lawyers and shoemakers and plumbers incase they should each want a corner to themselves. " "A very wise idea, " said Sir Walter. Whereupon the resolution wassuitably worded, and passed unanimously. Just where the Poets' Corner is to be located the members of thecommittee have not as yet decided, although Confucius is strongly infavor of having it placed in a dingy situated a quarter of a mile asternof the house-boat, and connected therewith by a slight cord, which can beeasily cut in case the squeaking of the poets' slate-pencils becomes toomuch for the nervous system of the members who have no corner of theirown. CHAPTER VI: SOME THEORIES, DARWINIAN AND OTHERWISE "I observe, " said Doctor Darwin, looking up from a perusal of an asbestoscopy of the _London Times_--"I observe that an American professor hasdiscovered that monkeys talk. I consider that a very interesting fact. " "It undoubtedly is, " observed Doctor Livingstone, "though hardly new. Inever said anything about it over in the other world, but I discoveredyears ago in Africa that monkeys were quite as well able to hold asustained conversation with each other as most men are. " "And I, too, " put in Baron Munchausen, "have frequently conversed withmonkeys. I made myself a master of their idioms during my brief sojournin--ah--in--well, never mind where. I never could remember the names ofplaces. The interesting point is that at one period of my life I was amaster of the monkey language. I have even gone so far as to write asonnet in Simian, which was quite as intelligible to the uneducated asnine-tenths of the sonnets written in English or American. " "Do you mean to say that you could acquire the monkey accent?" askedDoctor Darwin, immediately interested. "In most instances, " returned the Baron, suavely, "though of course notin all. I found the same difficulty in some cases that the German or theChinaman finds when he tries to speak French. A Chinaman can no more sayTrocadero, for instance, as the Frenchman says it, than he can fly. Thatpeculiar throaty aspirate the Frenchman gives to the first syllable, asthough it were spelled trhoque, is utterly beyond the Chinese--and beyondthe American, too, whose idea of the tonsillar aspirate leads him tospeak of the trochedeero, naturally falling back upon troches to help himout of his laryngeal difficulties. " "You ought to have been on the staff of _Punch_, Baron, " said Thackeray, quietly. "That joke would have made you immortal. " "I _am_ immortal, " said the Baron. "But to return to our discussion ofthe Simian tongue: as I was saying, there were some little points aboutthe accent that I could never get, and, as in the case of the German andChinaman with the French language, the trouble was purely physical. Whenyou consider that in polite Simian society most of the talkers conversewhile swinging by their tails from the limb of a tree, with a sort ofdroning accent, which results from their swaying to and fro, you will seeat once why it was that I, deprived by nature of the necessary apparatuswith which to suspend myself in mid-air, was unable to quite catch thequality which gives its chief charm to monkey-talk. " "I should hardly think that a man of your fertile resources would havelet 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 whichmaterial facts are never allowed to interfere with his doing what he setsout to do, he ought not to be daunted by the need of a tail. If youcould make a cherry-tree grow out of a deer's head, I fail to see why youcould not personally grow a tail, or anything else you might happen toneed 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 justfor the pleasure of mastering a language. Reasoning similarly, a man tomaster the art of braying in a fashion comprehensible to the jackass ofaverage intellect should make a jackass of himself, cultivate his ears, and learn to kick, so as properly to punctuate his sentences after themanner of most conversational beasts of that kind. " "Then you believe that jackasses talk, too, do you?" asked Doctor Darwin. "Why not?" said the Baron. "If monkeys, why not donkeys? Certainly theydo. All creatures have some means of communicating their thoughts toeach 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 thinkthat they alone of all the creatures in the world can talk. " "I haven't a doubt, " said Doctor Livingstone, "that monkeys listening tomen and women talking think they are only jabbering. " "They're not far from wrong in most cases if they do, " said DoctorJohnson, who up to this time had been merely an interested listener. "I've thought that many a time myself. " "Which is perhaps, in a slight degree, a confirmation of my theory, " putin Darwin. "If Doctor Johnson's mind runs in the same channels that themonkey's mind runs in, why may we not say that Doctor Johnson, being aman, 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'llmake you prove what you say about me. " "I wouldn't if I were you, " said Doctor Livingstone, in a peace-makingspirit. "It would not be a pleasant task for you, compelling our friendto prove you descended from the ape. I should think you'd prefer to makehim leave it unproved. " "Have monkeys Boswells?" queried Thackeray. "I don't know anything about 'em, " said Johnson, petulantly. "No more do I, " said Darwin, "and I didn't mean to be offensive, my dearJohnson. If I claim Simian ancestry for you, I claim it equally formyself. " "Well, I'm no snob, " said Johnson, unmollified. "If you want to bragabout your ancestors, do it. Leave mine alone. Stick to your owngenealogical orchard. " "Well, I believe fully that we are all descended from the ape, " saidMunchausen. "There isn't any doubt in my mind that before the flood allmen had tails. Noah had a tail. Shem, Ham, and Japheth had tails. It'sperfectly reasonable to believe it. The Ark in a sense proved it. Itwould have been almost impossible for Noah and his sons to construct theArk 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 thatthird arm. Noah could hammer a clapboard on to the Ark with two handswhile grasping a saw and cutting a new board or planing it off with histail. So with the others. We all know how much a third hand would helpus at times. " "But how do you account for its disappearance?" put in DoctorLivingstone. "Is it likely they would dispense with such a usefuladjunct?" "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 cutoff in the hurry of the departure; plenty of things may have happened toeliminate it. Men lose their hair and their teeth; why might not a manlose a tail? Scientists say that coming generations far in the futurewill be toothless and bald. Why may it not be that through causesunknown to us we are similarly deprived of something our forefathershad?" "The only reason for man's losing his hair is that he wears a hat all thetime, " said Livingstone. "The Derby hat is the enemy of hair. It ishot, and dries up the scalp. You might as well try to raise watermelonsin the Desert of Sahara as to try to raise hair under the modern hat. Infact, the modern hat is a furnace. " "Well, it's a mighty good furnace, " observed Munchausen. "You don't haveto put coal on the modern hat. " "Perhaps, " interposed Thackeray, "the ancients wore their hats on theirtails. " "Well, I have a totally different theory, " said Johnson. "You always did have, " observed Munchausen. "Very likely, " said Johnson. "To be commonplace never was my ambition. " "What is your theory?" queried Livingstone. "Well--I don't know, " said Johnson, "if it be worth expressing. " "It may be worth sending by freight, " interrupted Thackeray. "Let ushave it. " "Well, I believe, " said Johnson--"I believe that Adam was a monkey. " "He behaved like one, " ejaculated Thackeray. "I believe that the forbidden tree was a tender one, and therefore theonly one upon which Adam was forbidden to swing by his tail, " saidJohnson. "Clear enough--so far, " said Munchausen. "But that the possession of tails by Adam and Eve entailed a love ofswinging thereby, and that they could not resist the temptation to swingfrom every limb in Eden, and that therefore, while Adam was off swingingon other trees, Eve took a swing on the forbidden tree; that Adam, returning, caught her in the act, and immediately gave way himself andswung, " said Johnson. "Then you eliminate the serpent?" queried Darwin. "Not a bit of it, " Johnson answered. "The serpent was the tail. Look atmost snakes to-day. What are they but unattached tails?" "They do look it, " said Darwin, thoughtfully. "Why, it's clear as day, " said Johnson. "As punishment Adam and Eve losttheir tails, and the tail itself was compelled to work for a living anddo its own walking. " "I never thought of that, " said Darwin. "It seems reasonable. " "It is reasonable, " said Johnson. "And the snakes of the present day?" queried Thackeray. "I believe to be the missing tails of men, " said Johnson. "Somewhere inthe world is a tail for every man and woman and child. Where one's tailis no one can ever say, but that it exists simultaneously with its ownerI believe. The abhorrence man has for snakes is directly attributable tohis abhorrence for all things which have deprived him of something thatis good. If Adam's tail had not tempted him to swing on the forbiddentree, we should all of us have been able through life to relax frombusiness cares after the manner of the monkey, who is happy from morninguntil night. " "Well, I can't see that it does us any good to sit here and discuss thismatter, " said Doctor Livingstone. "We can't reach any conclusion. Theonly way to settle the matter, it seems to me, is to go directly to Adam, who is a member of this club, and ask him how it was. " "That's a great idea, " said Thackeray, scornfully. "You'd look wellgoing up to a man and saying, 'Excuse me, sir, but--ah--were you ever amonkey?'" "To say nothing of catechising a man on the subject of an old anddreadful scandal, " put in Munchausen. "I'm surprised at you, Livingstone. African etiquette seems to have ruined your sense ofpropriety. " "I'd just as lief ask him, " said Doctor Johnson. "Etiquette? Bah! Whatbusiness has etiquette to stand in the way of human knowledge?Conventionality is the last thing men of brains should strive after, andI, for one, am not going to be bound by it. " Here Doctor Johnson touched the electric bell, and in an instant theshade of a buttons appeared. "Boy, is Adam in the club-house to-day?" asked the sage. "I'll go and see, sir, " said the boy, and he immediately departed. "Good boy that, " said Thackeray. "Yes; but the service in this club is dreadful, considering what we mighthave, " said Darwin. "With Aladdin a member of this club, I don't see whywe can't have his lamp with genii galore to respond. It certainly wouldbe more economical. " "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 takeanother member and do him up in a bottle and cast him into the sea, Ihave no use for the system. Plain ordinary mortal shades are good enoughfor me. " As Munchausen spoke, the boy returned. "Mr. Adam isn't here to-day, sir, " he said, addressing Doctor Johnson. "And Charon says he's not likely to be here, sir, seeing as how hisaccount is closed, not having been settled for three months. " "Good, " said Thackeray. "I was afraid he was here. I don't want to havehim asked about his Eden experiences in my behalf. That's personality. " "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 ofthe 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 thehuman language as the Simian language. There are French monkeys whospeak monkey French, African monkeys who talk the most barbarous kind ofZulu monkey patois, and Congo monkey slang, and so on. Let Johnson sendhis little Boswell out to drum up information. If there is anything tobe found out he'll get it, and then he can tell it to us. Of course hemay get it all wrong, but it will be entertaining, and we'll never knowany difference. " Which seemed to the others a good idea, but whatever came of it I havenot been informed. CHAPTER VII: A DISCUSSION AS TO LADIES' DAY "I met Queen Elizabeth just now on the Row, " said Raleigh, as he enteredthe house-boat and checked his cloak. "Indeed?" said Confucius. "What if you did? Other people have met QueenElizabeth. There's nothing original about that. " "True; but she made a suggestion to me about this house-boat which Ithink is a good one. She says the women are all crazy to see the insideof it, " said Raleigh. "Thus proving that immortal woman is no different from mortal woman, "retorted Confucius. "They want to see the inside of everything. Curiosity, thy name is woman. " "Well, I am sure I don't see why men should arrogate to themselves thesole right to an investigating turn of mind, " said Raleigh, impatiently. "Why shouldn't the ladies want to see the inside of this club-house? Itis a compliment to us that they should, and I for one am in favor ofletting them, and I am going to propose that in the Ides of March we givea ladies' day here. " "Then I shall go South for my health in the Ides of March, " saidConfucius, angrily. "What on earth is a club for if it isn't to enablemen to get away from their wives once in a while? When do people go toclubs? When they are on their way home--that's when; and the more aman's at home in his club, the less he's at home when he's at home. Isuppose you'll be suggesting a children's day next, and after that aparrot's or a canary-bird's day. " "I had no idea you were such a woman-hater, " said Raleigh, inastonishment. "What's the matter? Were you ever disappointed in love?" "I? How absurd!" retorted Confucius, reddening. "The idea of _my_ everbeing disappointed in love! I never met the woman who could bring me tomy 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. Iregard 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'tknow, however, but that since you escaped from China and came here toHades you might have fallen in love with some spirit of an age subsequentto your own--Mary Queen of Scots, or Joan of Arc, or some other spook--whorejected you. I can't account for your dislike of women otherwise. " "Not I, " said Confucius. "Hades would have a less classic name than ithas for me if I were hampered with a family. But go along and have yourladies' day here, and never mind my reasons for preferring my own societyto that of the fair sex. I can at least stay at home that day. What doyou propose to do--throw open the house to the wives of members, or toall ladies, irrespective of their husbands' membership here?" "I think the latter plan would be the better, " said Raleigh. "OtherwiseQueen Elizabeth, to whom I am indebted for the suggestion, would beexcluded. She never married, you know. " "Didn't she?" said Confucius. "No, I didn't know it; but that doesn'tprove anything. When I went to school we didn't study the history of theElizabethan period. She didn't have absolute sway over England, then?" "She had; but what of that?" queried Raleigh. "Do you mean to say that she lived and died an old maid from choice?"demanded Confucius. "Certainly I do, " said Raleigh. "And why should I not tell you that?" "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 tellme in one and the same moment that a woman holding absolute sway over menyet lived and died an old maid, you must not be indignant if I smile andbite the end of my thumb, which is the Chinese way of saying that's allin your eye, Betty Martin. " "Believe it or not, you poor old back number, " retorted Raleigh, hotly. "It alters nothing. Queen Elizabeth could have married a hundred timesover 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. Hi! Shakespeare, here's a man doesn'tknow who chopped his head off. " Raleigh's face flushed scarlet. "'Tis better to have had a head and lostit, " 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 thouart, and to dust thou hast returned, if word from t'other side about thybooks and that which in and on them lies be true. " "Whate'er be said about my books, " said Dryden, angrily, "be they read orbe they not, 'tis mine they are, and none there be who dare dispute theirauthorship. " "Thus proving that men, thank Heaven, are still sane, " ejaculated DoctorJohnson. "To assume the authorship of Dryden would be not so much aclaim, my friend, as a confession. " "Shades of the mighty Chow!" cried Confucius. "An' will ye hear thepoets squabble! Egad! A ladies' day could hardly introduce into ourmidst a more diverting disputation. " "We're all getting a little high-flown in our phraseology, " put inShakespeare at this point. "Let's quit talking in blank-verse and comedown to business. _I_ think a ladies' day would be great sport. I'llwrite a poem to read on the occasion. " "Then I oppose it with all my heart, " said Doctor Johnson. "Why do youalways want to make our entertainments commonplace? Leave occasionalpoems to mortals. I never knew an occasional poem yet that was worthy ofan immortal. " "That's precisely why I want to write one occasional poem. I'd make itworthy, " Shakespeare answered. "Like this, for instance: _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 ladiesshould not be lost. " "That just proves what I said, " said Johnson. "Any idiot can make ladiesrhyme with Hades. It requires absolute genius to avoid the temptation. You are great enough to make Hades rhyme with bicycle if you choose to doit--but no, you succumb to the temptation to be commonplace. Bah! Oneof these modern drawing-room poets with three sections to his namecouldn't do worse. " "On general principles, " said Raleigh, "Johnson is right. We invitethese people here to see our club-house, not to give them an exhibitionof our metrical powers, and I think all exercises of a formal natureshould be frowned upon. " "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 thetrouble of writing a poem. Writing real poetry isn't easy, as youfellows would have discovered for yourselves if you'd ever tried it. " "To pass over the arrogant assumption of the gentleman who has justspoken, with the silence due to a proper expression of our contempttherefor, " said Dryden, slowly, "I think in case we do have a ladies' dayhere we should exercise a most careful supervision over the invitationlist. For instance, wouldn't it be awkward for our good friend Henry theEighth to encounter the various Mrs. Henrys here? Would it not likewisebe awkward for them to meet each other?" "Your point is well taken, " said Doctor Johnson. "I don't know whetherthe King's matrimonial ventures are on speaking terms with each other ornot, but under any circumstances it would hardly be a pleasing spectaclefor Katharine of Arragon to see Henry running his legs off getting creamand cakes for Anne Boleyn; nor would Anne like it much if, on the otherhand, Henry chose to behave like a gentleman and a husband to JaneSeymour or Katharine Parr. I think, if the members themselves are tosend out the invitations, they should each be limited to two cards, withthe express understanding that no member shall be permitted to invitemore than one wife. " "That's going to be awkward, " said Raleigh, scratching his headthoughtfully. "Henry is such a hot-headed fellow that he might resentthe stipulation. " "I think he would, " said Confucius. "I think he'd be as mad as a hatterat your insinuation that he would invite any of his wives, if all I hearof 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'tbelieve it, just read that play of mine that Beaumont andFletcher--er--ah--thought so much of. " "You came near giving your secret away that time, William, " said Johnson, with a sly smile, and giving the Avonian a dig between the ribs. "Secret! I haven't any secret, " said Shakespeare, a little acridly. "It's the truth I'm telling you. Beaumont and Fletcher _did_ admire_Henry the Eighth_. " "Thereby showing their conceit, eh?" said Johnson. "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 handin Shakespeare. It seems to me that joke is about worn out, Doctor. I'mgetting a little tired of it myself; but if it amuses you, why, keep itup. _I_ know who wrote my plays, and whatever you may say cannot affectthe facts. Next thing you fellows will be saying that I didn't write myown autographs?" "I didn't say that, " said Johnson, quietly. "Only there is no internalevidence in your autographs that you knew how to spell your name if youdid. A man who signs his name Shixpur one day and Shikespeare the nextneedn't complain if the Bank of Posterity refuses to honor his check. " "They'd honor my check quick enough these days, " retorted Shakespeare. "When a man's autograph brings five thousand dollars, or one thousandpounds, in the auction-room, there isn't a bank in the world fool enoughto decline to honor any check he'll sign under a thousand dollars, or twohundred pounds. " "I fancy you're right, " put in Raleigh. "But your checks or your playshave nothing to do with ladies' day. Let's get to some conclusion inthis matter. " "Yes, " said Confucius. "Let's. Ladies' day is becoming a dreadful bore, and if we don't hurry up the billiard-room will be full. " "Well, I move we get up a petition to the council to have it, " saidDryden. "I agree, " said Confucius, "and I'll sign it. If there's one way toavoid having ladies' day in the future, it's to have one now and be donewith it. " "All right, " said Shakespeare. "I'll sign too. " "As--er--Shixpur or Shikespeare?" queried Johnson. "Let him alone, " said Raleigh. "He's getting sensitive about that; andwhat you need to learn more than anything else is that it isn't mannersto twit a man on facts. What's bothering you, Dryden? You look like aman with an idea. " "It has just occurred to me, " said Dryden, "that while we can safelyleave the question of Henry the Eighth and his wives to the wisdom of thecouncil, we ought to pay some attention to the advisability of invitingLucretia Borgia. I'd hate to eat any supper if she came within a mile ofthe banqueting-hall. If she comes you'll have to appoint a tastingcommittee 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 fairLucretia and see that she has no poison with her, or if she has, to keepher from dropping it into the salads, " said Confucius, with a sidelongglance at Raleigh. "He's the especial champion of woman in this club, and no doubt would be proud of the distinction. " "I would with most women, " said Raleigh. "But I draw the line atLucretia Borgia. " And so a petition was drawn up, signed, and sent to the council, andthey, after mature deliberation, decided to have the ladies' day, towhich all the ladies in Hades, excepting Lucretia Borgia and Delilah, were to be duly invited, only the date was not specified. Delilah wasexcluded at the request of Samson, whose convincing muscles, rather thanhis arguments, completely won over all opposition to his proposition. CHAPTER VIII: A DISCONTENTED SHADE "It seems to me, " said Shakespeare, wearily, one afternoon at theclub--"that this business of being immortal is pretty dull. Didn'tsomebody once say he'd rather ride fifty years on a trolley in Europethan on a bicycle in Cathay?" "I never heard any such remark by any self-respecting person, " saidJohnson. "I said something like it, " observed Tennyson. Doctor Johnson looked around to see who it was that spoke. "You?" he cried. "And who, pray, may you be?" "My name is Tennyson, " replied the poet. "And a very good name it is, " said Shakespeare. "I am not aware that I ever heard the name before, " said Doctor Johnson. "Did you make it yourself?" "I did, " said the late laureate, proudly. "In what pursuit?" asked Doctor Johnson. "Poetry, " said Tennyson. "I wrote 'Locksley Hall' and 'Come into theGarden, Maude. '" "Humph!" said Doctor Johnson. "I never read 'em. " "Well, why should you have read them?" snarled Carlyle. "They werewritten after you moved over here, and they were good stuff. You needn'tthink because you quit, the whole world put up its shutters and went outof business. I did a few things myself which I fancy you never heardof. " "Oh, as for that, " retorted Doctor Johnson, with a smile, "I've heard ofyou; you are the man who wrote the life of Frederick the Great in ninehundred and two volumes--" "Seven!" snapped Carlyle. "Well, seven then, " returned Johnson. "I never saw the work, but I heardFrederick speaking of it the other day. Bonaparte asked him if he hadread it, and Frederick said no, he hadn't time. Bonaparte cried, 'Haven't time? Why, my dear king, you've got all eternity. ' 'I knowit, ' replied Frederick, 'but that isn't enough. Read a page or two, mydear Napoleon, and you'll see why. '" "Frederick will have his joke, " said Shakespeare, with a wink at Tennysonand a smile for the two philosophers, intended, no doubt, to put them ina more agreeable frame of mind. "Why, he even asked me the other day whyI never wrote a tragedy about him, completely ignoring the fact that hecame along many years after I had departed. I spoke of that, and hesaid, 'Oh, I was only joking. ' I apologized. 'I didn't know that, ' saidI. 'And why should you?' said he. 'You're English. '" "A very rude remark, " said Johnson. "As if we English were incapable ofseeing a joke!" "Exactly, " put in Carlyle. "It strikes me as the absurdest notion thatthe Englishman can't see a joke. To the mind that is accustomed to snapjudgments I have no doubt the Englishman appears to be dull ofapprehension, but the philosophy of the whole matter is apparent to themind that takes the trouble to investigate. The Briton weighs everythingcarefully before he commits himself, and even though a certain point maystrike him as funny, he isn't going to laugh until he has fully made uphis mind that it is funny. I remember once riding down Piccadilly withFroude in a hansom cab. Froude had a copy of _Punch_ in his hand, and hebegan to laugh immoderately over something. I leaned over his shoulderto see what he was laughing at. 'That isn't so funny, ' said I, as I readthe paragraph on which his eye was resting. 'No, ' said Froude. 'Iwasn't laughing at that. I was enjoying the joke that appeared in thesame relative position in last week's issue. ' Now that's the point--thewhole point. The Englishman always laughs over last week's _Punch_, notthis week's, and that is why you will find a file of that interestingjournal in the home of all well-to-do Britons. It is the back numberthat amuses him--which merely proves that he is a deliberative person whoweighs even his humor carefully before giving way to his emotions. " "What is the average weight of a copy of _Punch_?" drawled Artemas Ward, who had strolled in during the latter part of the conversation. Shakespeare snickered quietly, but Carlyle and Johnson looked upon theintruder severely. "We will take that question into consideration, " said Carlyle. "Perhapsto-morrow we shall have a definite answer ready for you. " "Never mind, " returned the humorist. "You've proved your point. Tennysontells me you find life here dull, Shakespeare. " "Somewhat, " said Shakespeare. "I don't know about the rest of youfellows, but I was not cut out for an eternity of ease. I must haveoccupation, and the stage isn't popular here. The trouble about puttingon a play here is that our managers are afraid of libel suits. Thechances 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 concealedin his toga, with which to punctuate his objections to the lines put inhis mouth. There is nothing I'd like better than to manage a theatre inthis 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 restof you spooks called for the author at the end of the third act, if hedidn't happen to like the play he'd greet me with a salvo of artilleryinstead 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 Wellingtonwould be in the other stage-box, and I'd get the greeting from him. " "Why come out at all?" asked Johnson. "Why come out at all?" echoed Shakespeare. "What fun is there in writinga play if you can't come out and show yourself at the first night? That'sthe author's reward. If it wasn't for the first-night business, though, all would be plain sailing. " "Then why don't you begin it the second night?" drawled Ward. "How the deuce could you?" put in Carlyle. "A most extraordinary proposition, " sneered Johnson. "Yes, " said Ward; "but wait a week--you'll see the point then. " "There isn't any doubt in my mind, " said Shakespeare, reverting to hisoriginal proposition, "that the only perfectly satisfactory life is undera system not yet adopted in either world--the one we have quitted orthis. There we had hard work in which our mortal limitations hampered usgrievously; here we have the freedom of the immortal with no hard work;in other words, now that we feel like fighting-cocks, there isn't anyfighting to be done. The great life in my estimation, would be to returnto earth and battle with mortal problems, but equipped mentally andphysically with immortal weapons. " "Some people don't know when they are well off, " said Beau Brummel. "Thisstrikes me as being an ideal life. There are no tailors bills to pay--weare ourselves nothing but memories, and a memory can clothe himself inthe shadow of his former grandeur--I clothe myself in the remembrance ofmy departed clothes, and as my memory is good I flatter myself I'm thebest-dressed man here. The fact that there are ghosts of departed unpaidbills haunting my bedside at night doesn't bother me in the least, because the bailiffs that in the old life lent terror to an overdueaccount, thanks to our beneficent system here, are kept in the lessagreeable sections of Hades. I used to regret that bailiffs were suchlow people, but now I rejoice at it. If they had been of a differentorder they might have proven unpleasant here. " "You are right, my dear Brummel, " interposed Munchausen. "This life isfar preferable to that in the other sphere. Any of you gentlemen whohappen to have had the pleasure of reading my memoirs must have beenstruck with the tremendous difficulties that encumbered my progress. IfI wished for a rare liqueur for my luncheon, a liqueur served only at thetable of an Oriental potentate, more jealous of it than of his onethousand queens, I had to raise armies, charter ships, and wage warfarein which feats of incredible valor had to be performed by myself aloneand unaided to secure the desired thimbleful. I have destroyed empiresfor a bon-bon at great expense of nervous energy. " "That's very likely true, " said Carlyle. "I should think your feats ofstrength would have wrecked your imagination in time. " "Not so, " said Munchausen. "On the contrary, continuous exercise servedonly to make it stronger. But, as I was going to say, in this life wehave none of these fearful obstacles--it is a life of leisure; and if Iwant a bird and a cold bottle at any time, instead of placing my life inperil and jeopardizing the peace of all mankind to get it, I have only tosummon before me the memory of some previous bird and cold bottle, dinethereon like a well-ordered citizen, and smoke the spirit of the bestcigar my imagination can conjure up. " "You miss my point, " said Shakespeare. "I don't say this life is worseor better than the other we used to live. What I do say is that acombination of both would suit me. In short, I'd like to live here andgo to the other world every day to business, like a suburban resident whosleeps 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 officethere, and put out a sign something like this: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE DRAMATIST Plays written while you wait I guess I'd find plenty to do. " "Guess again, " said Tennyson. "My dear boy, you forget one thing. _Youare out of date_. People don't go to the theatres to hear _you_, they goto see the people who _do_ you. " "That is true, " said Ward. "And they do do you, my beloved William. It'sa wonder to me you are not dizzy turning over in your grave the way theydo you. " "Can it be that I can ever be out of date?" asked Shakespeare. "I know, of course, that I have to be adapted at times; but to be wholly out ofdate strikes me as a hard fate. " "You're not out of date, " interposed Carlyle; "the date is out of you. There is a great demand for Shakespeare in these days, but there isn'tany stuff. " "Then I should succeed, " said Shakespeare. "No, I don't think so, " returned Carlyle. "You couldn't stand the pace. The world revolves faster to-day than it did in your time--men writethree or four plays at once. This is what you might call a Type-writerAge, and to keep up with the procession you'd have to work as you neverworked before. " "That is true, " observed Tennyson. "You'd have to learn to beambidextrous, so that you could keep two type-writing machines going atonce; and, to be perfectly frank with you, I cannot even conjure up in myfancy a picture of you knocking out a tragedy with the right hand on onemachine, while your left hand is fashioning a farce-comedy on another. " "He might do as a great many modern writers do, " said Ward; "go in forthe Paper-doll 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 drama for you_ _That'll run for quite sixty-two days_. _Oh, bring me a dress_ _Made of satin and lace_, _And a book--say Joe Miller's--of wit_; _And I'll make the old dramatists_ _Blue in the face_ _With the play that I'll turn out for it_. _So bring me the scissors_, _And bring me the paste_, _And a dozen fine old comedies_; _A fine line of dresses_, _And popular taste_ _I'll make a strong effort to please_. "You draw a very blue picture, it seems to me, " said Shakespeare, sadly. "Well, it's true, " said Carlyle. "The world isn't at all what it used tobe in any one respect, and you fellows who made great reputationscenturies ago wouldn't have even the ghost of a show now. I don'tbelieve Homer could get a poem accepted by a modern magazine, and whilethe comic papers are still printing Diogenes' jokes the old gentlemancouldn't make enough out of them in these days to pay taxes on his tub, let alone earning his bread. " "That is exactly so, " said Tennyson. "I'd be willing to wager too that, in the line of personal prowess, even D'Artagnan and Athos and Porthosand Aramis couldn't stand London for one day. " "Or New York either, " said Mr. Barnum, who had been an interestedlistener. "A New York policeman could have managed that quartet with onehand. " "Then, " said Shakespeare, "in the opinion of you gentlemen, we old-timelions would appear to modern eyes to be more or less stuffed?" "That's about the size of it, " said Carlyle. "But you'd draw, " said Barnum, his face lighting up with pleasure. "You'ddrive a five-legged calf to suicide from envy. If I could take you andCaesar, and Napoleon Bonaparte and Nero over for one circus season we'ddrive the mint out of business. " "There's your chance, William, " said Ward. "You write a play forBonaparte 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 lastyou through all eternity. " "You can count on me, " said Barnum, rising. "Let me know when you've gotyour plan laid out. I'd stay and make a contract with you now, but Adamhas promised to give me points on the management of wild animals withoutcages, so I can't wait. By-by. " "Humph!" said Shakespeare, as the eminent showman passed out. "That's agay proposition. When monkeys move in polite society William Shakespearewill make a side-show of himself for a circus. " "They do now, " said Thackeray, quietly. Which merely proved that Shakespeare did not mean what he said; for inspite of Thackeray's insinuation as to the monkeys and polite society, hehas not yet accepted the Barnum proposition, though there can be no doubtof its value from the point of view of a circus manager. CHAPTER IX: AS TO COOKERY AND SCULPTURE Robert Burns and Homer were seated at a small table in the dining-room ofthe house-boat, discussing everything in general and the shade of a veryexcellent luncheon in particular. "We are in great luck to-day, " said Burns, as he cut a ruddy duck intwain. "This bird is done just right. " "I agree with you, " returned Homer, drawing his chair a trifle closer tothe table. "Compared to the one we had here last Thursday, this is afeast for the gods. I wonder who it was that cooked this fowloriginally?" "I give it up; but I suspect it was done by some man who knew hisbusiness, " 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 becomeimmortal. Cooking is as much of an art as is the writing of poetry, andjust as there are immortal poets so there should be immortal cooks. Seewhat an advantage the poet has--he writes something, it goes out andreaches the inmost soul of the man who reads it, and it is signed. Hiswork is known because he puts his name to it; but this poor devil of acook--where is he? He has done his work as well as the poet ever didhis, 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 name to it. If the cook could sign his work it would be different. " "You have hit upon a great truth, " said Homer, nodding, as he sometimeswas wont to do. "And yet I fear that, ingenious as we are, we cannotdevise a plan to remedy the matter. I do not know about you, but Ishould myself much object if my birds and my flapjacks, and other things, digestible and otherwise, that I eat here were served with the cook'sname 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 the cook did that with theomelette you wouldn't like it. " "No, " said Burns; "but he might fasten a tag to it, with his name writtenupon 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 trayfull of dainties, would get the tags of a good and bad cook mixed intrying 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 thatwould 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 makethe 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 exquisitepoint--you could have asked the cook's name, and written an apostrophe toher. Something like this, for instance: _Oh, Dinah Rudd! oh, Dinah Rudd_! _Thou art a cook of bluest blood_! _Nowhere within_ _This world of sin_ _Have I e'er tasted better terrapin_. _Do you see_?" "I do; but even then, my dear fellow, the cook would fall short of truefame. Her excellence would be a mere matter of hearsay evidence, " saidHomer. "Not if you went on to describe, in a keenly analytical manner, thevirtues of that particular bit of terrapin, " said Burns. "Draw so vivida picture of the dish that the reader himself would taste that terrapineven as you tasted it. " "You have hit it!" cried Homer, enthusiastically. "It is a grand plan;but how to introduce it--that is the question. " "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 possiblydisseminate the idea as we wish it to be disseminated. " "Done!" said Homer. "I'll begin right away. I feel like haunting to-night. I'm getting to be a pretty old ghost, but I'll never lose my loveof haunting. " At this point, as Homer spoke, a fine-looking spirit entered the room, and took a seat at the head of the long table at which the regular clubdinner was nightly served. "Why, bless me!" said Homer, his face lighting up with pleasure. "Why, Phidias, is that you?" "I think so, " said the new-comer, wearily; "at any rate, it's all that'sleft of me. " "Come over here and lunch with us, " said Homer. "You know Burns, don'tyou?" "Haven't the pleasure, " said Phidias. The poet and the sculptor were introduced, after which Phidias seatedhimself at Homer's side. "Are you any relation to Burns the poet?" the former asked, addressingthe Scotchman. "I _am_ Burns the poet, " replied the other. "You don't look much like your statues, " said Phidias, scanning his facecritically. "No, thank the Fates!" said Burns, warmly. "If I did, I'd commitsuicide. " "Why don't you sue the sculptors for libel?" asked Phidias. "You speak with a great deal of feeling, Phidias, " said Homer, gravely. "Have they done anything to hurt you?" "They have, " said Phidias. "I have just returned from a tour of theworld. I have seen the things they call sculpture in these degeneratedays, and I must confess--who shouldn't, perhaps--that I could have donebetter work with a baseball-bat for a chisel and putty for the rawmaterial. " "I think I could do good work with a baseball-bat too, " said Burns; "butas for the raw material, give me the heads of the men who have sculped meto work on. I'd leave them so that they'd look like some of yourParthenon frieze figures with the noses gone. " "You are a vindictive creature, " said Homer. "These men you criticise, and whose heads you wish to sculp with a baseball-bat, have done more foryou than you ever did for them. Every statue of you these men have madeis a standing advertisement of your books, and it hasn't cost you apenny. There isn't a doubt in my mind that if it were not for thosestatues countless people would go to their graves supposing that thegreat Scottish Burns were little rivulets, and not a poet. Whatdifference does it make to you if they haven't made an Adonis of you? Younever set them an example by making one of yourself. If there'sdeception anywhere, it isn't you that is deceived; it is the mortals. Andwho cares about them or their opinions?" "I never thought of it in that way, " said Burns. "I hatecaricatures--that is, caricatures of myself. I enjoy caricatures ofother people, but--" "You have a great deal of the mortal left in you, considering that youpose as an immortal, " said Homer, interrupting the speaker. "Well, so have I, " said Phidias, resolved to stand by Burns in theargument, "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 arch-snob of creation, andMars, a little tin warrior who couldn't have fought a soldier likeNapoleon, with all his alleged divinity, I thank the Fates that theyenabled me to achieve immortality through mortal effort. Hang hereditarygreatness, I say. These men were born immortals. You and I worked forit and got it. We know what it cost. It was ours because we earned it, and not because we were born to it. Eh, Burns?" The Scotchman nodded assent, and the Greek sculptor went on. "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 theprettiest last you ever saw; and I encountered a carver in a Londoneating-house last month who turned out a slice of beef that was cut asartistically as I could have done it myself. What I object to chiefly isthe tendency of the times. This is an electrical age, and men in my oldprofession aren't content to turn out one _chef-d'oeuvre_ in a lifetime. They take orders by the gross. I waited upon inspiration. To-day thesculptor waits upon custom, and an artist will make a bust of anybody inany material desired as long as he is sure of getting his pay afterwards. I saw a life-size statue of the inventor of a new kind of lard the otherday, and what do you suppose the material was? Gold? Not by a greatdeal. 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 medistinctly weary to think that my art should be brought so low. " "You did your best work in Greece, " chuckled Homer. "A bad joke, my dear Homer, " retorted Phidias. "I thought sculpture wasgetting down to a pretty low ebb when I had to fashion friezes out ofmarble; but marble is more precious than rubies alongside of butter andlard. " "Each has its uses, " said Homer. "I'd rather have butter on my breadthan marble, but I must confess that for sculpture it is very poor stuff, as you say. " "It is indeed, " said Phidias. "For practice it's all right to usebutter, but for exhibition purposes--bah!" Here Phidias, to show his contempt for butter as raw material insculpture, seized a wooden toothpick, and with it modelled a beautifulhead of Minerva out of the pat that stood upon the small plate at hisside, and before Burns could interfere had spread the chaste figure asthinly as he could upon a piece of bread, which he tossed to the shade ofa hungry dog that stood yelping on the river-bank. "Heavens!" cried Burns. "Imperious Caesar dead and turned to bricks isas nothing to a Minerva carved by Phidias used to stay the hunger of aravening cur. " "Well, it's the way I feel, " said Phidias, savagely. "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 ofyour statues than they would for a specimen of any modern sculptor's art;yes, even if yours were modelled in wine-jelly and the other fellow's inpure gold. So why repine?" "You'd feel the same way if poets did a similarly vulgar thing, " retortedPhidias; "you know you would. If you should hear of a poet to-daywriting a poem on a thin layer of lard or butter, you would yourself bethe first to call a halt. " "No, I shouldn't, " said Homer, quietly; "in fact, I wish the poets woulddo that. We'd have fewer bad poems to read; and that's the way youshould look at it. I venture to say that if this modern plan of makingbusts and friezes in butter had been adopted at an earlier period, thepublic places in our great cities and our national Walhallas would seemless like repositories of comic art, since the first critical rays of awarm sun would have reduced the carven atrocities therein to a spot onthe pavement. The butter school of sculpture has its advantages, my boy, and you should be crowning the inventor of the system with laurel, andnot heaping coals of fire upon his brow. " "That, " said Burns, "is, after all, the solid truth, Phidias. Take thebrass caricatures of me, for instance. Where would they be now if theyhad been cast in lard instead of in bronze?" Phidias was silent a moment. "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 atoast. Here's to the Butter Sculptors. May their butter never giveout. " The toast was drained to the dregs, and Phidias went home feeling alittle better. CHAPTER X: STORY-TELLERS' NIGHT It was Story-tellers' Night at the house-boat, and the best talkers ofHades were impressed into the service. Doctor Johnson was made chairmanof the evening. "Put him in the chair, " said Raleigh. "That's the only way to keep himfrom telling a story himself. If he starts in on a tale he'll make it aserial sure as fate, but if you make him the medium through which otherstory-tellers are introduced to the club he'll be finely epigrammatic. Hecan be very short and sharp when he's talking about somebody else. Personality is his forte. " "Great scheme, " said Diogenes, who was chairman of the entertainmentcommittee. "The nights over here are long, but if Johnson started on astory they'd have to reach twice around eternity and halfway back to givehim time to finish all he had to say. " "He's not very witty, in my judgment, " said Carlyle, who since hisarrival in the other world has manifested some jealousy of Solomon andDoctor Johnson. "That's true enough, " said Raleigh; "but he's strong, and he's bound tosay something that will put the audience in sympathy with the man that heintroduces, and that's half the success of a Story-tellers' Night. I'vetold stories myself. If your audience doesn't sympathize with you you'dbe better off at home putting the baby to bed. " And so it happened. Doctor Johnson was made chairman, and the eveningcame. The Doctor was in great form. A list of the story-tellers hadbeen sent him in advance, and he was prepared. The audience was about asselect a one as can be found in Hades. The doors were thrown open to thefriends of the members, and the smoke-furnace had been filled with a verysuperior quality of Arcadian mixture which Scott had brought back from ahaunting-trip to the home of "The Little Minister, " at Thrums. "Friends and fellow-spooks, " the Doctor began, when all were seated onthe visionary camp-stools--which, by the way, are far superior to thosein use in a world of realities, because they do not creak in the midst ofa fine point demanding absolute silence for appreciation--"I do not knowwhy I have been chosen to preside over this gathering of phantoms; it isthe province of the presiding officer on occasions of this sort to saypleasant things, which he does not necessarily endorse, about the sundrypersons who are to do the story-telling. Now, I suppose you all know mepretty well by this time. If there is anybody who doesn't, I'll be gladto have him presented after the formal work of the evening is over, andif I don't like him I'll tell him so. You know that if I can be countedupon for any one thing it is candor, and if I hurt the feelings of any ofthese individuals whom I introduce to-night, I want them distinctly tounderstand that it is not because I love them less, but that I love truthmore. With this--ah--blanket apology, as it were, to cover all possibleemergencies that may arise during the evening, I will begin. The firstspeaker 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 amost excellent writer, as a speaker he is a pebbleless Demosthenes. If Ihad had the arrangement of the programme I should have had Goldsmith tellhis story while the rest of us were down-stairs at supper. However, wemust abide by our programme, which is unconscionably long, for otherwisewe will never get through it. Those of you who agree with me as to thepleasure of listening to my friend Goldsmith will do well to join me inthe grill-room while he is speaking, where, I understand, there is a veryfine line of punches ready to be served. Modest Noll, will you kindlyinflict yourself upon the gathering, and send me word when you getthrough, if you ever do, so that I may return and present number two tothe 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 he was quite as doubtful of hisability as a talker as was Johnson. "I'm not much of a talker, or, as some say, speaker, " he said. "Talkingis not my forte, as Doctor Johnson has told you, and I am therefore notmuch at it. Speaking is not in my line. I cannot speak or talk, as itwere, because I am not particularly ready at the making of a speech, duepartly to the fact that I am not much of a talker anyhow, and seldom ifever speak. I will therefore not bore you by attempting to speak, sincea speech by one who like myself is, as you are possibly aware, not afluent nor indeed in any sense an eloquent speaker, is apt to be a boreto those who will be kind enough to listen to my remarks, but will readinstead the first five chapters of the _Vicar of Wakefield_. " "Who suggested any such night as this, anyhow?" growled Carlyle. "Fivechapters of the _Vicar of Wakefield_ for a starter! Lord save us, we'llneed a Vicar of Sleepfield if he's allowed to do this!" "I move we adjourn, " said Darwin. "Can't something be done to keep these younger members quiet?" askedSolomon, frowning upon Carlyle and Darwin. "Yes, " said Douglas Jerrold. "Let Goldsmith go on. He'll have themasleep in ten minutes. " Meanwhile, Goldsmith was plodding earnestly through his stint, utterlyand happily oblivious of the effect he was having upon his audience. "This is awful, " whispered Wellington to Bonaparte. "Worse than Waterloo, " replied the ex-Emperor, with a grin; "but we canstop it in a minute. Artemas Ward told me once how a camp-meeting heattended in the West broke up to go outside and see a dog-fight. Can'tyou and I pretend to quarrel? A personal assault by you on me will wakethese people up and discombobulate Goldsmith. Say the word--only don'thit too hard. " "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 abean-snapper that I ever was of you!" and followed up his remark bypulling Bonaparte's camp-chair from under him, and letting the conquerorof Austerlitz fall to the floor with a thud which I have since hearddescribed as dull and sickening. The effect was instantaneous. Compared to a personal encounter betweenthe two great figures of Waterloo, a reading from his own works byGoldsmith seemed lacking in the elements essential to the holding of anaudience. Consequently, attention was centred in the belligerentwarriors, and, by some odd mistake, when a peace-loving member of theassemblage, realizing the indecorousness of the incident, cried out, "Puthim out! put him out!" the attendants rushed in, and, taking poorGoldsmith by his collar, hustled him out through the door, across thedeck, and tossed him ashore without reference to the gang-plank. Thisaccomplished, a personal explanation of their course was made by thequarrelling generals, and, peace having been restored, a committee wassent in search of Goldsmith with suitable apologies. The good and kindlysoul returned, but having lost his book in the melee, much to his owngratification, as well as to that of the audience, he was permitted torest in quiet the balance of the evening. "Is he through?" said Johnson, poking his head in at the door when orderwas restored. "Yes, sir, " said Boswell; "that is to say, he has retired permanentlyfrom the field. He didn't finish, though. " "Fellow-spooks, " began Johnson once more, "now that you have beendelighted with the honeyed eloquence of the last speaker, it is myprivilege to present to you that eminent fabulist Baron Munchausen, thegreatest unrealist of all time, who will give you an exhibition of hisparadoxical power of lying while standing. " The applause which greeted the Baron was deafening. He was, beyond alldoubt, one of the most popular members of the club. "Speaking of whales, " said he, leaning gracefully against the table. "Nobody has mentioned 'em, " said Johnson. "True, " retorted the Baron; "but you always suggest them by yourapparently unquenchable thirst for spouting--speaking of whales, myfriend Jonah, as well as the rest of you, may be interested to know thatI once had an experience similar to his own, and, strange to say, withthe identical whale. " Jonah arose from his seat in the back of the room. "I do not wish to beunpleasant, " he said, with a strong effort to be calm, "but I wish to askif Judge Blackstone is in the room. " "I am, " said the Judge, rising. "What can I do for you?" "I desire to apply for an injunction restraining the Baron from using mywhale 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 whichis based on my experience with that leviathan, I would willingly permitthe Baron to introduce him into his story; but that whale, your honor, ismy stock in trade--he is my all. " "I think Jonah's point is well taken, " said Blackstone, turning to theBaron. "It would be a distinct hardship, I think, if the plaintiff inthis action were to be deprived of the exclusive use of his soleaccessory. The injunction prayed for is therefore granted. The courtwould suggest, however, that the Baron continue with his story, usinganother whale for the purpose. " "It is impossible, " said Munchausen, gloomily. "The whole point of thestory depends upon its having been Jonah's whale. Under thecircumstances, the only thing I can do is to sit down. I regret thenarrowness of mind exhibited by my friend Jonah, but I must respect thedecision 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 inconsidering my mind a mere slot scarcely wide enough for the insertion ofa nickel. That whale was my discovery, and the personal discomfort Iendured in perfecting my experience was such that I resolved to rest myreputation upon his broad proportions only--to sink or swim with him--andI cannot at this late day permit another to crowd me out of his exclusiveuse. " Jonah sat down and fanned himself, and the Baron, with a look of disguston his face, left the room. "Up to his old tricks, " he growled as he went. "He queers everything hegoes into. If I'd known he was a member of this club I'd never havejoined. " "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 havemet with disaster each time. I don't know but what you are to becongratulated, however, on your escape. Very few of you, I observe, haveas yet fallen asleep. The next number on the programme, I see, isBoswell, who was to have entertained you with a few reminiscences; I saywas to have done so, because he is not to do so. " "I'm ready, " said Boswell, rising. "No doubt, " retorted Johnson, severely, "but I am not. You are a manwith one subject--myself. I admit it's a good subject, but you are notthe man to treat of it--here. You may suffice for mortals, but here itis different. I can speak for myself. You can go out and sit on thebanks 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 Iflatter myself I remember what I said and did more accurately than youdo. 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 this--ah--thisentertaining discourse of yours to continue?" "Until I get through, " returned Johnson, wrathfully. "Are you aware, sir, that I am on the programme?" asked Solomon. "I am, " said the Doctor. "With that in mind, for the sake of our fellow-spooks who are present, I am very much inclined to keep on forever. WhenI was a boy--" Carlyle rose up at this point. "I should like to ask, " he said, mildly, "if this is supposed to be anaudience of children? I, for one, have no wish to listen to the juvenilestories of Doctor Johnson. Furthermore, I have come here particularly to-night to hear Boswell. I want to compare him with Froude. I thereforeprotest against--" "There is a roof to this house-boat, " said Doctor Johnson. "If Mr. Carlyle will retire to the roof with Boswell I have no doubt he can beaccommodated. As for Solomon's interruption, I can afford to pass thatover with the silent contempt it deserves, though I may add withpropriety that I consider his most famous proverbs the most absurd bitsof hack-work I ever encountered; and as for that story about dividing ababy between two mothers by splitting it in two, it was grossly inhumanunless the baby was twins. When I was a boy--" As the Doctor proceeded, Carlyle and Solomon, accompanied by the nowangry Boswell, left the room, and my account of the Story-tellers' Nightmust perforce stop; because, though I have never heretofore confessed it, all my information concerning the house-boat on the Styx has been derivedfrom the memoranda of Boswell. It may be interesting to the reader tolearn, however, that, according to Boswell's account, the Story-tellers'Night was never finished; but whether this means that it broke upimmediately afterwards in a riot, or that Doctor Johnson is still at workdetailing his reminiscences, I am not aware, and I cannot at the momentof writing ascertain, for Boswell, when I have the pleasure of meetinghim, invariably avoids the subject. CHAPTER XI: AS TO SAURIANS AND OTHERS It was Noah who spoke. "I'm glad, " he said, "that when I embarked at the time of the heavy rainsthat did so much damage in the old days, there weren't any dogs like thatfellow Cerberus about. If I'd had to feed a lot of three-headed beastslike him the Ark would have run short of provisions inside of ten days. " "That's very likely true, " observed Mr. Barnum; "but I must confess, mydear Noah, that you showed a lamentable lack of the showman's instinctwhen you selected the animals you did. A more commonplace lot of beastswere never gathered together, and while Adam is held responsible for theintroduction of sin into the world, I attribute most of my offences tonone other than yourself. " The members of the club drew their chairs a little closer. Theconversation had opened a trifle spicily, and, furthermore, they hadretained enough of their mortality to be interested in animal stories. Adam, who had managed to settle his back dues and delinquenthouse-charges, and once more acquired the privileges of the club, noddedhis head gratefully at Mr. Barnum. "I'm glad to find some one, " said he, "who places the responsibility fortrouble where it belongs. I'm round-shouldered with the blame I've hadto bear. I didn't invent sin any more than I invented the telephone, andI think it's rather rough on a fellow who lived a quiet, retiring, pastoral life, minding his own business and staying home nights, to beheld up to public reprobation for as long a time as I have. " "It'll be all right in time, " said Raleigh; "just wait--be patient, andyour vindication will come. Nobody thought much of the plays Bacon and Iwrote for Shakespeare until Shakespeare 'd been dead a century. " "Humph!" said Adam, gloomily. "Wait! What have I been doing all thistime? I've waited all the time there's been so far, and until Mr. Barnumspoke as he did I haven't observed the slightest inclination on the partof anybody to rehabilitate my lost reputation. Nor do I see exactly howit's to come about even if I do wait. " "You might apply for an investigating committee to look into thecharges, " suggested an American politician, just over. "Get your friendson it, and you'll be all right. " "Better let sleeping dogs lie, " said Blackstone. "I intend to, " said Adam. "The fact is, I hate to give any furtherpublicity to the matter. Even if I did bring the case into court and suefor libel, I've only got one witness to prove my innocence, and that's mywife. I'm not going to drag her into it. She's got nervous prostrationover her position as it is, and this would make it worse. QueenElizabeth and the rest of these snobs in society won't invite her to anyof their functions because they say she hadn't any grandfather; and evenif she were received by them, she'd be uncomfortable going about. Itisn't pleasant for a woman to feel that every one knows she's the oldestwoman in the room. " "Well, take my word for it, " said Raleigh, kindly. "It'll all come outall right. You know the old saying, 'History repeats itself. ' Some dayyou will be living back in Eden again, and if you are only careful tomake an exact record of all you do, and have a notary present, beforewhom you can make an affidavit as to the facts, you will be able todemonstrate your innocence. " "I was only condemned on hearsay evidence, anyhow, " said Adam, ruefully. "Nonsense; you were caught red-handed, " said Noah; "my grandfather toldme so. And now that I've got a chance to slip in a word edgewise, I'dlike mightily to have you explain your statement, Mr. Barnum, that I amresponsible for your errors. That is a serious charge to bring against aman 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 notmean to say a word that is in any way derogatory to your morality. Youwere a surprisingly good man for a sea-captain, and with the exception ofthat one occasion when you--ah--you allowed yourself to be stranded onthe bar, if I may so put it, I know of nothing to be said against you asa moral, temperate person. " "That was only an accident, " said Noah, reddening. "You can't expect aman six hundred odd years of age--" "Certainly not, " said Raleigh, soothingly, "and nobody thinks less of youfor it. Considering how you must have hated the sight of water, thewonder of it is that it didn't become a fixed habit. Let us hear what itis that Mr. Barnum does criticise in you. " "His taste, that's all, " said Mr. Barnum. "I contend that, compared tothe animals he might have had, the ones he did have were as ant-hills toAlps. There were more magnificent zoos allowed to die out through Noah'slack of judgment than one likes to think of. Take the Proterosaurus, forinstance. Where on earth do we find his equal to-day?" "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 eightfeet long dropping out of the trees on to your lap while you were tryingto take a Sunday-afternoon nap, you'd be willing to dispense with thingsof that sort for the balance of your natural life. If you want to get anidea of that experience let somebody drop a calf on you some afternoon. " "I am not saying anything about that, " returned Barnum. "It would beunpleasant to have an elephant drop on one after the fashion of which youspeak, but I am glad the elephant was saved just the same. I haven'tadvocated the Proterosaurus as a Sunday-afternoon surprise, but as anattraction for a show. I still maintain that a lizard as big as a cowwould prove a lodestone, the drawing powers of which the pocket-money ofthe small boy would be utterly unable to resist. Then there was theIguanadon. He'd have brought a fortune to the box-office--" "Which you'd have immediately lost, " retorted Noah, "paying rent. Whenyou get a reptile of his size, that reaches thirty feet up into the airwhen he stands on his hind-legs, the ordinary circus wagon of commercecan't be made to hold him, and your menagerie-room has to have ceilingsso high that every penny he brought to the box-office would be spentstoring him. " "Mischievous, too, " said Adam, "that Iguanadon. You couldn't keepanything out of his reach. We used to forbid animals of his kind toenter the garden, but that didn't bother him; he'd stand up on his hind-legs and reach over and steal anything he'd happen to want. " "I could have used him for a fire-escape, " said Mr. Barnum; "and as formy inability to provide him with quarters, I'd have met that problemafter a short while. I've always lamented the absence, too, of theMegalosaurus--" "Which simply shows how ignorant you are, " retorted Noah. "Why, my dearfellow, it would have taken the whole of an ordinary zoo such as yours togive the Megalosaurus a lunch. Those fellows would eat a rhinoceros aseasily as you'd crack a peanut. I did have a couple of Megalosaurians onmy boat for just twenty-four hours, and then I chucked them bothoverboard. If I'd kept them ten days longer they'd have eaten everyblessed beast I had with me, and your Zoo wouldn't have had anything elsebut Megalosaurians. " "Papa is right about that, Mr. Barnum, " said Shem. "The whole Sauriantribe was a fearful nuisance. About four hundred years before the floodI had a pet Creosaurus that I kept in our barn. He was a cunning littledevil--full of tricks, and all that; but we never could keep a cow or ahorse on the place while he was about. They'd mysteriously disappear, and we never knew what became of 'em until one morning we surprised Fidoin--" "Surprised who?" asked Doctor Johnson, scornfully. "Fido, " returned Shem. "'That was my Creosaurus's name. " "Lord save us! Fido!" cried Johnson. "What a name for a Creosaurus!" "Well, what of it?" asked Shem, angrily. "You wouldn't have us call amastodon like that Fanny, would you, or Tatters?" "Go on, " said Johnson; "I've nothing to say. " "Shall I send for a physician?" put in Boswell, looking anxiously at hischief, the situation was so extraordinary. Solomon and Carlyle giggled; and the Doctor having politely requestedBoswell to go to a warmer section of the country, Shem resumed. "I caught him in the act of swallowing five cows and Ham's favoritetrotter, sulky and all. " Baron Munchausen rose up and left the room. "If they're going to lie I'm going to get out, " he said, as he passedthrough the room. "What became of Fido?" asked Boswell. "The sulky killed him, " returned Shem, innocently. "He couldn't digestthe wheels. " Noah looked approvingly at his son, and, turning to Barnum, observed, quietly: "What he says is true, and I will go further and say that it is my beliefthat you would have found the show business impossible if I had takenthat sort of creature aboard. You'd have got mightily discouraged afteryour Antediluvians had chewed up a few dozen steam calliopes, and eatenevery other able-bodied exhibit you had managed to secure. I'd havetried to save a couple of Discosaurians if I hadn't supposed they wereable to take care of themselves. A combination of sea-serpent anddragon, with a neck twenty-two feet long, it seemed to me, ought to havebeen 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 sea-serpents were in any danger, so I let them alone, with the result that Inever saw but one other, and he was only an illusion due to that unhappyuse of stimulants to which, with shocking bad taste, you have chosen torefer. " "I didn't mean to call up unpleasant memories, " said Barnum. "I neverbelieved you got half-seas over, anyhow; but, to return to our muttons, why didn't you hand down a few varieties of the Therium family toposterity? There were the Dinotherium and the Megatherium, either one ofwhich would have knocked spots out of any leopard that ever was made, andalong side of which even my woolly horse would have paled intoinsignificance. That's what I can't understand in your selections; withMegatheriums to burn, why save leopards and panthers and other such every-day creatures?" "What kind of a boat do you suppose I had?" cried Noah. "Do you imaginefor a moment that she was four miles on the water-line, with a mile andthree-quarters beam? If I'd had a pair of Dinotheriums in the stern ofthat Ark, she'd have tipped up fore and aft, until she'd have looked likea telegraph-pole in the water, and if I'd put 'em amidships they'd havehad to be wedged in so tightly they couldn't move to keep the vesseltrim. I didn't go to sea, my friend, for the purpose of being tippedover in mid-ocean every time one of my cargo wanted to shift his weightfrom one leg to the other. " "It was bad enough with the elephants, wasn't it, papa?" said Shem. "Yes, indeed, my son, " returned the patriarch. "It was bad enough withthe elephants. We had to shift our ballast half a dozen times a day tokeep the boat from travelling on her beam ends, the elephants moved aboutso much; and when we came to the question of provender, it took up aboutnine-tenths of our hold to store hay and peanuts enough to keep themalive and good-tempered. On the whole, I think it's rather late in theday, considering the trouble I took to save anything but myself and myfamily, to be criticised as I now am. You ought to be much obliged to mefor saving any animals at all. Most people in my position would havebuilt a yacht for themselves and family, and let everything else slide. " "That is quite true, " observed Raleigh, with a pacificatory nod at Noah. "You were eminently unselfish, and while, with Mr. Barnum, I exceedinglyregret that the Saurians and Therii and other tribes were left on thepier when you sailed, I nevertheless think that you showed most excellentjudgment at the time. " "He was the only man who had any at all, for that matter, " suggestedShem, "and it required all his courage to show it. Everybody was guyinghim. Sinners stood around the yard all day and every day, criticisingthe model; one scoffer pretended he thought her a canal-boat, and askedhow deep the flood was likely to be on the tow-path, and whether weintended to use mules in shallow water and giraffes in deep; anotherasked what time allowance we expected to get in a fifteen-mile run, andhinted that a year and two months per mile struck him as being the properthing--" "It was far from pleasant, " said Noah, tapping his fingers togetherreflectively. "I don't want to go through it again, and if, as Raleighsuggests, history is likely to repeat herself, I'll sublet the contractto Barnum here, and let him get the chaff. " "It was all right in the end, though, dad, " said Shem. "We had the greatlaugh on 'hoi polloi' the second day out. " "We did, indeed, " said Noah. "When we told 'em we only carried first-class passengers and had no room for emigrants, they began to see thatthe Ark wasn't such an old tub, after all; and a good ninety per cent. Ofthem would have given ten dollars for a little of that time allowancethey'd been talking to us about for several centuries. " Noah lapsed into a musing silence, and Barnum rose to leave. "I still wish you'd saved a Discosaurus, " he said. "A creature with aneck twenty-two feet long would have been a gold mine to me. He couldhave been trained to stand in the ring, and by stretching out his neckbite the little boys who sneak in under the tent and occupy seats on thetop row. " "Well, for your sake, " said Noah, with a smile, "I'm very sorry; but formy own, I'm quite satisfied with the general results. " And they all agreed that the patriarch had every reason to be pleasedwith himself. CHAPTER XII: THE HOUSE-BOAT DISAPPEARS Queen Elizabeth, attended by Ophelia and Xanthippe, was walking along theriver-bank. It was a beautiful autumn day, although, owing to certainclimatic peculiarities of Hades, it seemed more like midsummer. Themercury in the club thermometer was nervously clicking against the top ofthe crystal tube, and poor Cerberus was having all he could do with histhree mouths snapping up the pestiferous little shades of by-gone gnatsthat seemed to take an almost unholy pleasure in alighting upon hisvarious noses and ears. Ophelia was doing most of the talking. "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 itcomes in, and, in the second, it seems to me as if skirts must bedangerous. If they should catch in one of the pedals, where would I be?" "In the hospital shortly, methinks, " said Queen Elizabeth. "Well, I shouldn't wear skirts, " snapped Xanthippe. "If a man's wifecan't borrow some of her husband's clothing to reduce her peril to aminimum, what is the use of having a husband? When I take to thebicycle, which, in spite of all Socrates can say, I fully intend to do, Ishall have a man's wheel, and I shall wear Socrates' old dress-clothes. If Hades doesn't like it, Hades may suffer. " "I don't see how Socrates' clothes will help you, " observed Ophelia. "Hewore skirts himself, just like all the other old Greeks. His toga wouldbe quite as apt to catch in the gear as your skirts. " Xanthippe looked puzzled for a moment. It was evident that she had notthought of the point which Ophelia had brought up--strong-minded ladiesof her kind are apt sometimes to overlook important links in such chainsof evidence as they feel called upon to use in binding themselves totheir 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 theequals of their husbands--in my family particularly; now they have losttheir rights, and are made to confine themselves still to garments likethose of yore, while man has arrogated to himself the sole and exclusiveuse of sane habiliments. However, that is apart from the question. Iwas saying that I shall have a man's wheel, and shall wear Socrates' olddress-clothes to ride it in, if Socrates has to go out and buy an olddress-suit for the purpose. " The Queen arched her brows and looked inquiringly at Xanthippe for amoment. "A magnificent old maid was lost to the world when you married, " shesaid. "Feeling as you do about men, my dear Xanthippe, I don't see whyyou ever took a husband. " "Humph!" retorted Xanthippe. "Of course you don't. You didn't need ahusband. You were born with something to govern. I wasn't. " "How about your temper?" suggested Ophelia, meekly. Xanthippe sniffed frigidly at this remark. "I never should have gone crazy over a man if I'd remained unmarriedforty thousand years, " she retorted, severely. "I married Socratesbecause I loved him and admired his sculpture; but when he gave upsculpture and became a thinker he simply tried me beyond all endurance, he was so thoughtless, with the result that, having ventured once ortwice to show my natural resentment, I have been handed down to posterityas a shrew. I've never complained, and I don't complain now; but when awoman is married to a philosopher who is so taken up with his studiesthat when he rises in the morning he doesn't look what he is doing, andgoes off to his business in his wife's clothes, I think she is entitledto a certain amount of sympathy. " "And yet you wish to wear his, " persisted Ophelia. "Turn about is fair-play, " said Xanthippe. "I've suffered so much on hisaccount that on the principle of averages he deserves to have a littledrop of bitters in his nectar. " "You are simply the victim of man's deceit, " said Elizabeth, wishing tomollify the now angry Xanthippe, who was on the verge of tears. "Iunderstood men, fortunately, and so never married. I knew my father, andeven if I hadn't been a wise enough child to know him, I should not havewed, because he married enough to last one family for several years. " "You must have had a hard time refusing all those lovely men, though, "sighed Ophelia. "Of course, Sir Walter wasn't as handsome as my dearHamlet, but he was very fetching. " "I cannot deny that, " said Elizabeth, "and I didn't really have the heartto say no when he asked me; but I did tell him that if he married me Ishould 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 veryunpleasant duty. " Chatting thus, the three famous spirits passed slowly along the pathuntil they came to the sheltered nook in which the house-boat lay atanchor. "There's a case in point, " said Xanthippe, as the house-boat loomed upbefore them. "All that luxury is for men; we women are not permitted tocross the gangplank. Our husbands and brothers and friends go there; thedoor closes on them, and they are as completely lost to us as though theynever existed. We don't know what goes on in there. Socrates tells methat their amusements are of a most innocent nature, but how do I knowwhat he means by that? Furthermore, it keeps him from home, while I haveto stay at home and be entertained by my sons, whom the EncyclopaediaBritannica rightly calls dull and fatuous. In other words, club life forhim, and dulness and fatuity for me. " "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 hetried to have them establish a Ladies' Day, and that they agreed to doso, but have since resisted all his efforts to have a date set for thefunction. " "It would be great fun to steal in there now, wouldn't it, " giggledOphelia. "There doesn't seem to be anybody about to prevent our doingso. " "That's true, " said Xanthippe. "All the windows are closed, as if therewasn't a soul there. I've half a mind to take a peep in at the house. " "I am with you, " said Elizabeth, her face lighting up with pleasure. Itwas a great novelty, and an unpleasant one to her, to find some placewhere she could not go. "Let's do it, " she added. So the three women tiptoed softly up the gang-plank, and, silentlyboarding the house-boat, peeped in at the windows. What they saw merelywhetted their curiosity. "I must see more, " cried Elizabeth, rushing around to the door, whichopened at her touch. Xanthippe and Ophelia followed close on her heels, and shortly they found themselves, open-mouthed in wondering admiration, in the billiard-room of the floating palace, and Richard, the ghost ofthe best billiard-room attendant in or out of Hades, stood before them. "Excuse me, " he said, very much upset by the sudden apparition of theladies. "I'm very sorry, but ladies are not admitted here. " "We are equally sorry, " retorted Elizabeth, assuming her most imperiousmanner, "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 ofthem all?" Richard smiled broadly. "I don't know where they are, " he replied; butit was evident that he was not telling the exact truth. "Oh, come, my boy, " said the Queen, kindly, "you do know. Sir Waltertold me you knew everything. Where are they?" "Well, if you must know, ma'am, " returned Richard, captivated by theQueen's manner, "they've all gone down the river to see a prize-fightbetween Goliath and Samson. " "See there!" cried Xanthippe. "That's what this club makes possible. Socrates told me he was coming here to take luncheon with Carlyle, andthey've both of 'em gone off to a disgusting prize-fight!" "Yes, ma'am, they have, " said Richard; "and if Goliath wins, I don'tthink Mr. Socrates will get home this evening. " "Betting, eh?" said Xanthippe, scornfully. "Yes, ma'am, " returned Richard. "More club!" cried Xanthippe. "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 theCaesars are on the telephone, " Elizabeth said. Investigation showed thatboth the Borgias and the Caesars were on the wire, and in short order thetwo ladies had been made acquainted with the state of affairs at thehouse-boat; and as they were both quite as anxious to see the interior ofthe much-talked-of club-house as the others, they were not long inarriving. Furthermore, they brought with them half a dozen more ladies, among whom were Desdemona and Cleopatra, and then began the mostextraordinary session the house-boat ever knew. A meeting was called, with Elizabeth in the chair, and all the best ladies of the Stygianrealms were elected members. Xanthippe, amid the greatest applause, moved that every male member of the organization be expelled for conductunworthy of a gentleman in attending a prize-fight, and encouraging twosuch horrible creatures as Goliath and Samson in their nefariouspursuits. Desdemona seconded the motion, and it was carried without adissenting voice, although Mrs. Caesar, with becoming dignity, merelysmiled approval, not caring to take part too actively in the proceedings. The men having thus been disposed of in a summary fashion, Richard waselected Janitor in Charon's place, and the club was entirely reorganized, with Cleopatra as permanent President. The meeting then adjourned, andthe invaders set about enjoying their newly acquired privileges. Thesmoking-room was thronged for a few moments, but owing to theextraordinary strength of the tobacco which the faithful Richardshovelled into the furnace, it developed no enduring popularity, Xanthippe, with a suddenly acquired pallor, being the first to renouncethe pastime as revolting. So fast and furious was the enjoyment of these thirsty souls, so longdeprived of their rights, that night came on without their observing it, and with the night was brought the great peril into which they werethrown, and from which at the moment of writing they had not beenextricated, and which, to my regret, has cut me off for the present fromany further information connected with the Associated Shades and theirbeautiful lounging-place. Had they not been so intent upon the innerbeauties of the House-boat on the Styx they might have observedapproaching, under the shadow of the westerly shore, a long, rakish craftpropelled by oars, which dipped softly and silently and with trainedprecision in the now jet-black waters of the Styx. Manning the oars werea dozen evil-visaged ruffians, while in the stern of the approachingvessel there sat a grim-faced, weather-beaten spirit, armed to the teeth, his coat sleeves bearing the skull and cross-bones, the insignia ofpiracy. This boat, stealing up the river like a thief in the night, containedCaptain Kidd and his pirate crew, and their mission was a mission ofvengeance. To put the matter briefly and plainly, Captain Kidd wassmarting under the indignity which the club had recently put upon him. Hehad been unanimously blackballed, even his proposer and seconder, who hadbeen browbeaten into nominating him for membership, voting against him. "I may be a pirate, " he cried, when he heard what the club had done, "butI have feelings, and the Associated Shades will repent their action. Thetime will come when they'll find that I have their club-house, and theyhave--its debts. " It was for this purpose that the great terror of the seas had come uponthis, the first favorable opportunity. Kidd knew that the house-boat wasunguarded; his spies had told him that the members had every one gone tothe fight, and he resolved that the time had come to act. He did notknow that the Fates had helped to make his vengeance all the moreterrible and withering by putting the most attractive and fashionableladies of the Stygian country likewise in his power; but so it was, andthey, poor souls, while this fiend, relentless and cruel, was slowlyapproaching, sang on and danced on in blissful unconsciousness of theirperil. In less than five minutes from the time when his sinister-craft roundedthe bend Kidd and his crew had boarded the house-boat, cut her loose fromher moorings, and in ten minutes she had sailed away into the greatunknown, and with her went some of the most precious gems in the socialdiadem of Hades. The rest of my story is soon told. The whole country was aroused whenthe crime was discovered, but up to the date of this narrative no wordhas been received of the missing craft and her precious cargo. Raleighand Caesar have had the seas scoured in search of her, Hamlet has offeredhis kingdom for her return, but unavailingly; and the men of Hades werecast into a gloom from which there seems to be no relief. Socrates alone was unaffected. "They'll come back some day, my dear Raleigh, " he said, as the knightburied his face, weeping, in his hands. "So why repine? I'll never losemy Xanthippe--permanently, that is. I know that, for I am a philosopher, and I know there is no such thing as luck. And we can start anotherclub. " "Very likely, " sighed Raleigh, wiping his eyes. "I don't mind the clubso much, but to think of those poor women--" "Oh, they're all right, " returned Socrates, with a laugh. "Caesar's wifeis along, and you can't dispute the fact that she's a good chaperon. Givethe ladies a chance. They've been after our club for years; now let 'emhave it, and let us hope that they like it. Order me up a hemlock sour, and let's drink to their enjoyment of club life. " Which was done, and I, in spirit, drank with them, for I sincerely hopethat the "New Women" of Hades are having a good time.