speck of dust from the calf of his leg, the contour of which was
beautiful to look upon, clad in superbly fitting silken tights.
"Adonis, at your service. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I declare!" I cried, lost now in admiration of the way the gods
were ordering things on Olympus. "So they've made you a valet, have
they?"
"Yes," replied Adonis. "I hold office for the six months that I am
here. You know that I am a resident of Olympus only half the time. The
balance I live in Hades."
"It's a common custom," said I. "Even with us, our swellest people go
south for the winter."
"Hum--yes," said Adonis, somewhat confused. "It's very good of you to
draw that parallel. Your construction of the situation does credit to
your sense of what is polite, sir. Unfortunately for me, however, my
position is more like that of the habitual criminal who is sent to the
penitentiary periodically. I have to go, whether I want to or not."
"Still, it must be a pleasant variation," I observed, forgetting that
it is bad form to converse with a servant, and remembering only that I
was addressing an old flame of Madame Venus. "Hades isn't a bad place
for a little while, I should fancy."
"True," sighed Adonis. "But the society there is very mixed. It's full
of self-made immortals, whereas we are all immortals by birth."
"And who, pray," I queried, "takes your place while you are below?"
"Narcissus," he replied; "but there's generally a lot of complaint
about him. He takes more pains dressing himself than he does in
looking after guests, the result of which is that after my departure
things get topsy-turvy, and by the time I get back, with the exception
of Narcissus, there isn't a well-dressed god in all Olympus."
"I wonder, where such perfection is possible," said I, "that they
tolerate that."
"They're not going to very much longer," said Adonis, and then he
laughed. "Narcissus queered himself last season at the palace. Jove
sent for him to trim his beard, and he nearly cut one of the old man's
ears off. Investigation showed that instead of keeping his eye on what
he was doing, he was looking at himself in the glass all the time.
Jupiter in his anger hurled a thunderbolt at him, but, fortunately for
Narcissus, he hurled it at the mirrored and not at the real Narcissus,
and he escaped. The result is the rumor that he will be made
head-waiter in the dining-room instead of valet next season, in which
event I shall probably be allowed to remain here all through the year,
or else they'll put Jason on."
"And which would you prefer?" I asked.
[Illustration: "JUPITER HURLED A THUNDER-BOLT AT HIM"]
"I think I'd rather have Jason put on," said Adonis. "While I don't
care much for the climate of Hades, I am received there with much
consideration socially, whereas up here I am only the valet. One
doesn't mind being a nabob once in a while, you know. Besides--ah--don't
say anything about it to anybody up here, but I'm getting a trifle
tired of Venus. She is still beautiful, but you can't get over the
idea that she's over four thousand years old. Furthermore, I met a
little Fury down below last season who is simply ravishing." Here
Adonis gave me a wink which made me rather curious to see the little
Fury.
"Ah, Adonis, Adonis!" I cried, shaking my finger at him; "still up to
your old tricks, are you?"
"Why not?" he demanded. "My character is formed. _Noblesse oblige_ is
a good motto for us all, only when one is born with _faiblesse_
instead of _noblesse_, it becomes _faiblesse oblige_. Furthermore,
sir, if I am to have the reputation, I must insist upon the
perquisites."
What I replied to this bit of moralizing I shall not put down here,
since I have no wish to commit myself thus publicly. I will say,
however, that I did not blame the youthful-looking person
unreservedly.
"Moreover, I have very fine apartments in Hades," he added, "and I
should hate to give them up. I live at the select home for gods and
gentlemen, kept by Madame Persephone. When she takes an interest in
one of her boarders she is a mighty fine landlady, and, like most
ladies, if I may say it with all due modesty, she has taken an
interest in me. The result is that I have the best suite in the house,
overlooking the Styx, and as fine a table as any one could want. But
I must ask your pardon, sir, for taking up so much of your time with
my personal affairs. We both seem to have forgotten that I am here to
wait upon you."
"It has been very interesting, Adonis," I said. "And if it's anybody's
fault, it is mine. What I wished of you was that you should get out my
breakfast-suit, so that I might dress and go to the dining-room."
"Certainly, sir," he replied, walking to the clothes-closet. "Pardon
me, but--ah--what is your profession when at home?"
"Why do you ask?" I queried. "Not that I am unwilling to tell you,
but--"
"I merely wished to guide my selection of your garments. If you are a
naval officer, I will put out your admiral's uniform. If you are a
professional golfer, I'll get out your red coat."
"I am a literary man," I said.
"Ah!" he observed, lifting his eyebrows. "Then, of course, you won't
mind wearing these."
And he hauled forth a pair of black-and-white trousers with checks as
large as the squares of a chessboard, a blue cloth vest with white
polka dots, and a long, gray Prince Albert coat, with mauve satin
lapels. The shirt was pink and blue, stripes of each alternating,
running cross-ways, a white collar, and a flaring red four-in-hand
tie!
"Great Scott, Adonis!" I cried. "Must I wear those?"
"You're under no compulsion to do so," said he. "But I thought you
said you were a literary man."
"Well?"
"Well--literary men never care what they wear so long as they attract
attention, do they?"
I laughed. "We are not all built that way, Adonis," said I. "Some of
us are modest and have a little taste."
"Well, it's news to me," said he. "I guess it must be among the minor
lights."
"It is--generally," said I. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather wear
the golf clothes."
And I did.
V
The Olympian Links
"There," said Adonis, as he put the finishing touch to my costume.
"You look like a champion. Do you play golf, sir?"
"There's a difference of opinion about that, Adonis," I replied, my
mind reverting to the number of handicap matches I hadn't won. "Some
people who have observed my game say I don't. Have you links here?"
"Have we links?" he cried. "Well, rather. They're said to be the best
in the universe."
"And are they handy?"
"Very--in the season."
"I don't quite catch the idea," I said.
"Oh, sometimes the course is nearer than it is at others. Come here a
minute," he said, "and I'll point it out to you."
He drew me to the wonderful window of which I have already spoken, and
through the powerful glass pointed in the direction of Mars.
"See that?" he said.
"Yes," I replied. "That is Mars."
"Exactly," said Adonis. "Mars is the Olympian links. His distance from
here varies, as you are probably aware. When Mars is near aphelion he
is 61,800,000 miles away, but in his perihelion he gets it down to
33,800,000. That's why we have our golf season while Mars is in his
perihelion. It saves us 28,000,000 miles in getting there."
I laughed. "You call that handy, do you?" I said.
"Why not?" he asked. "It's a matter of five minutes on a bike, ten
minutes in the automobile, and twenty minutes if you walk."
"Of course, Adonis," said I, "I'm not so green as to swallow all that.
How the dickens can you walk through space?"
"You're vastly greener than you think you are," he retorted, rather
uncivilly, perhaps, for a valet, but I paid no attention to that,
preferring to take him, despite his menial capacity, in his godlike
personality. "I might even say, sir, that your greenness is spacious.
You judge us from your own mean, limited, mundane point of view. But
you needn't think because you earth people cannot walk on air we
Olympians are equally incapacitated. You can walk there in two ways.
One of these is to fasten a pair of ankle-wings on your legs; the
other is to purchase a pair of sky-scrapers. These are simple,
consisting merely of boots with gas soles. You inflate the soles with
gas and walk along. It's simple and easy, doesn't require any
practice, and as long as you keep up in the air and don't step on
church steeples or weather-vanes it's perfectly safe. Of course, if
you stepped on a sharp-pointed weather-vane, or a lightning-rod, and
punctured your sole, there's no telling what would happen."
"And how about the wings?" I asked.
"They're much more exhilarating, but a little dangerous if you don't
know how to use them," Adonis replied. "Flying isn't any easier than
roller-skating, and if you upset and get your head below your feet
it's extremely difficult to right yourself again. If you try to go out
there with ankle-wings, take my advice and wear a pair of small
balloons about your chest to hold you right-end upward."
"I'll remember," said I, somewhat awed at the prospect of trying to
walk through space with the aid of ankle-wings. "And how about the
bicycle?" I added.
"If you can ride a bicycle on an ordinary road you'll have no
trouble," he replied. "Keep your tires well filled with gas and avoid
headers. If I were you, though, at first I'd go out on the automobile.
It makes six round trips a day and it's absolutely safe. Being so high
up in the air might make you dizzy, and you might find the bicycling
too much for your nerves. After a little while you'll get used to
enormous heights, and then, of course, you can go any old way you
choose. The fare for the round trip is only fifteen hundred dollars."
"The automobile is in competent hands, eh?"
"Yes," said Adonis. "Phaeton has charge of it."
"Humph!" I sneered. "He's your idea of a competent driver, eh? He
hasn't that reputation on earth. Was it an untruth that credits him
with a fine smash-up when he tried to drive the chariot of the sun?"
"Not a bit of it," said Adonis. "That's all of it simple truth. I
happen to know, because I saw the finish of the whole thing myself,
and was one of the fellows who turned a fire-extinguisher on him and
saved him from being a total loss to the insurance companies. But he
learned his lesson. There's nothing like experience to teach caution,
and that little episode gave Phaeton caution to burn, if I may indulge
in mundane slang. He was guyed so unmercifully by everybody for his
carelessness that the first thing he did when he recovered was to
learn how to drive, and it wasn't six cycles before he was the most
expert whip in Olympus. He finally made a profession of it and
established a livery-stable. Then, when the automobile came in and
horses went out of fashion, he kept up with the times, and is to-day
in charge of all our rapid transit--he owns the franchises for the
Jupiter and Dipper Trolley Road, he is the largest stockholder in the
Metropolitan Traction Company of Neptune, Saturn, and Venus, and is
said to be the moving spirit back of the new underground electric in
Hades."
"I guess he'll do," said I, reflecting with admiration upon the
wonderful self-rehabilitation of one I had previously regarded as a
foolish incompetent.
"You won't have to guess again in this case," said Adonis, dryly.
"You've hit it right the very first time."
"Well, tell me about the links, Adonis," said I. "Getting there seems
to be an easy matter, but after you get there, how about the course?
Is it eighteen holes?"
"It is," said Adonis, "and of proper length, too, and splendidly
arranged. You start at the club-house right near the landing-stage and
play right around the planet, so that when you're through you're back
at the club-house again. At the ninth hole there is a half-way house,
where you can get nectar, and ambrosia, and sarsaparilla, and any
other soft drink you want."
"No hard drinks, eh?" I queried.
"Not at the half-way house," said Adonis. "We gods have too much sense
to indulge in hard drinks in the middle of a game. If you want hard
drinks you have to wait till you get back to the club-house."
"That is rather sensible," I said, as I thought of how a Martini
cocktail taken at the ninth hole had ruined my chances in the
Noodleport Annual Handicap last autumn. "But I say, Adonis," I added,
"did I understand you to say that you played all around Mars?"
"Yes--why not?" said he.
"Pretty long holes, I should say," said I. "Mars is four thousand
miles round, isn't it?"
"You _are_ an earth-worm," he retorted, forgetting his place wholly in
his scorn for my picayune ideas. "Calling a paltry four thousand miles
long--why, you can play around that links in two hours and a half."
"Indeed?" said I. "And how long may your hours be? Everything here is
on such a magnificent scale, I suppose one of your hours is about
equal to one of our decades."
"Oh no," said Adonis. "It isn't that way at all. Fact is, we make our
hours to suit ourselves. I am merely reckoning on a basis that you
would comprehend. I meant two and a half of your hours. Any
moderately expert player can play the Mars links in that time. Take
the first hole, for instance--it's only two hundred and fifty miles
long."
"Really--is that all!" I ejaculated, growing sarcastic. "A drive, two
brassies, an approach, and forty puts, I presume?"
"For a duffer, perhaps," retorted Adonis. "Willie Ph[oe]bus does it in
six. A seventy-five-mile drive, a seventy-mile brassie, a loft over
the canal for twenty-five miles, a forty-five-mile cleak, a
thirty-mile approach, and--"
"A dead easy put of five miles!" I put in, making a pretence of being
no longer astonished.
"That's the idea," said Adonis. "Of course, everybody can't do it," he
added. "And bogie for that hole is really seven. Willie Ph[oe]bus
played too well for a gentleman, so we made him a professional. He'll
give you lessons for a thousand dollars an hour, if you want him to."
"Thanks," said I. "I'll think about it. Can he teach me how to drive a
ball seventy-five miles?"
"That depends on your capacity," said Adonis. "Some of the best
players frequently drive seventy-five miles--the record is ninety-six
miles, made by Jove himself. Willie taught him."
"For Heaven's sake!" I cried, losing my self-poise for an instant.
"What do you drive with? Olympian Gatling guns?"
"Not at all," replied Adonis. "We use one of our regular drivers--the
best is called the 'celestial catapult.' Ph[oe]bus sells 'em at the
Caddie House for five hundred dollars apiece. If you strike a ball
fair and square with the 'celestial catapult,' and neither pull nor
slice, it can't help going forty miles, anyhow."
"And how, may I ask, do the caddies find a ball that goes seventy-five
miles?"
"They don't have to. All our balls are self-finding," said Adonis.
"The ball in use now is a recent invention of Vulcan's. They cost
twelve hundred dollars a dozen. They are made of liquefied
electricity. We take the electric current, liquefy it, then solidify
it, then mould it into the form of a sphere. Inside we place a little
gong, that begins to ring as soon as the ball lands. The electricity
in it is what makes it fly so rapidly and so far, and even you mortals
know the principle of the electric bell."
"Oh, indeed we do," said I, pulling at my mustache nervously. I was
beginning to get excited over this celestial golf. On earth I have all
of the essentials of a first-class golf maniac, except the ability to
play the game. But this so far surpassed anything I had ever seen or
imagined before that I was growing too keen over it for comfort. I was
in real need of having my spirits curbed, so I ventured to inquire
after a phase of the game that has always dampened my ardor in the
past--the caddie service. I did not expect that this could attain
perfection even in Olympus, and I was not far wrong.
"You must have pretty lively caddies," I threw out.
Adonis sighed. "You'd think so, but that's where we are always in
trouble. We've tried various schemes, but they haven't any of 'em
worked well. At first we took our own Olympian boys. We got the mother
of the Gracchi to lend us her offspring, but they weren't worth a rap.
Then we hired forty little devils from Hades, and we had to send them
back inside of a week. They were regular little imps. They were
cutting up monkey shines all the time, and waggled their horrid little
tails so constantly that Jove himself couldn't keep his eye on the
ball--and the language they used was something frightful. You couldn't
trust them to clean your clubs, because there wasn't any power
anywhere that could keep them from running off with 'em; and in the
matter of balls, they'd steal every blessed one they could lay their
hands on. We finally had to employ cherubs. We've about sixty of 'em
on hand now all the time, and they come as near being perfect as you
could expect. Ever see a cherub?"
"Only in pictures," said I. "They're just heads with wings, aren't
they?"
"Yes," said Adonis, "and, having no bodies, they're seldom in the way,
and some of the best of 'em can fly almost as fast as the ball."
"How do they carry the bags?" I asked, much interested.
"They hang 'em about their necks, just above their wings," Adonis
explained, "but even they are not perfect. They fly very carelessly,
and often, in swooping about the sky, drop your clubs out of the bag
and smash 'em; and they all look so infernally alike that you can
never tell your own caddy from the other fellow's, which is sometimes
very confusing."
"Still," I put in, "a caddie with no pockets is a very safe person to
intrust with golf balls."
"That's very true," said Adonis, "and I suppose the cherubs make as
good caddies as we can expect. Caddies will be caddies, and that's the
end of it. You can't expect a caddie to do just right any more than
you can expect water to flow uphill. There are certain immutable laws
of the universe which are as unchangeable in Olympus as on earth or
in Hades. Ice is cold, fire is hot, water is wet, and caddies are
caddies."
[Illustration: THE OLYMPIAN LINKS]
"Very true," said I, reflecting upon the ways of "Some Caddies I have
Met." "What do you pay them a round?"
"One hundred and twenty-five dollars," said Adonis.
"Cheap enough," said I. "But tell me, Adonis," I continued, "who is
your amateur champion?"
"Jupiter, of course," said Adonis, with an impatient shake of his
head. "He's champion of everything. It's one of his prerogatives. We
don't any of us dare win a cup from him for fear he'll use his power
to destroy us. That is one of the features of this Olympian life that
is not pleasant--though, for goodness' sake, don't say I told you!
He'd send me into perpetual exile if he knew I'd spoken that way.
He's threatened to make me Governor-General of the Dipper half a
dozen times already for things I've said, and I have to be very
careful, or he'll do it."
"An unpleasant post, that?"
"Well," he said, "I don't exactly know how to compare it so that you
would understand precisely. I should say, however, it would be about
as agreeable as being United States ambassador to Borneo."
"I'll never tell, Adonis," said I, "and I'm very much obliged to you
for our pleasant chat. Your description of the links has interested me
hugely. If I could afford a game at your prices, I think I'd play."
"Oh, as for that," said Adonis, laughing, "don't let that bother you.
Whenever you want to pay a bill here all you have to do is to press
the cash button on the teleseme over there, and they'll send the money
up from the office."
"But how shall I ever repay the office?" I cried.
"Press the button to the left of it, and they'll send you up a receipt
in full," he replied.
"You mean to say that this hotel is run--" I began.
"On the Olympian plan," interrupted the valet with a low bow. "All
bills here are of that pleasing variety known as 'Self-paying.'"
With which comforting assurance Adonis left me, and I started for the
dining-room, my appetite considerably whetted by the idea of a game of
golf over links four thousand miles in length with balls that could be
driven fifty or sixty miles, and cherubs for caddies, at no cost to
myself whatsoever.
VI
In the Dining-Room
As I emerged from the door of my room into the hall, I found a small
sedan-chair, of highly ornamental make, awaiting my convenience,
carried upon the shoulders of two diminutive boys, who were as black,
and shone as lustrously, as a bit of highly polished ebony. I had
never seen their like before, save in an occasional bit of statuary in
Italy, wherein marbles of differing hue and shade had been ingeniously
used by the sculptor to give color to his work. The boys themselves,
as I have said, were of polished ebony hue, while the breech-cloths
which formed their sole garment were of purest alabaster white. Upon
their heads were turbans of pink. They grinned broadly as I came out,
and opened the door of the chair for me.
"Dis way fo' de dinin'-room, sah," said one of them, showing a set of
ivory teeth that dazzled my eyes.
I thanked him and entered the chair. When I was seated, I turned to
the little chap.
"What particular god do you happen to be, Sambo?" I asked. It was
probably not the most reverent way to put it, but in a community like
Olympus gods are really at a discount, and the black particle was so
like a small pickaninny I used to know in Savannah that I could not
address him as if he were Jupiter himself.
"Massy me, massa," he returned, his smile nearly cutting the top of
his head off, reaching as it did around to the back of his ears. "I
ain' no gord. I'se jess one o' dese low-down or'nary toters. Me an'
him totes folks roun' de hotel."
"A very useful function that, Sambo; and where were you born?" I
asked. "North Carolina, or Georgia?"
"Me?" he replied, looking at me quizzically. "I guess yo's on'y
foolin', massa. Me? Why, I 'ain't never been borned at all, sah--"
"Jess growed, eh--like Topsy?" I asked.
"Who dat, Topsy?" he demanded.
"Oh, she was a little nigger girl that became very famous," I
explained.
"Doan' know nuffin' 'bout no Topsy," he said, shaking his head. "We
ain' niggers, eider, yo' know, me an' him ain't. We's statulary."
"What?" I cried. The word seemed new.
"Statulary," he continued. "We was carved, we was. There ain't nothin'
borned 'bout us. Never knowed who pap was. Man jess took a lot o'
mahble, he did, an' chiselled me an' him out."
I eyed both boys closely and perceived that in all probability he
spoke the truth. His flesh and dress had all of the texture of marble,
but now the question came up as to the gift of speech and movement and
the marvellous and graceful flexibility of their limbs.
"You can't fool me, Sambo," said I. "You're nothing but a very
good-looking little nigger. You can't make me believe that you are
another Galatea."
"Doan' no nuffin' 'bout no gal's tears," he returned instantly. "But I
done tole yo' de truf. Me an' him was chiselled out o' brack marble by
pap. Ef we'd been borned we'd been niggahs sho' nuff, but bein'
carvin's, like I tole yuh, we's statulary."
"But how does it come that if you are only statuary, you can move
about, and talk, and breathe?" I demanded.
"Yo'll have to ask mistah Joop'ter 'bout dat," the boy answered. "He
done gave us dese gif's, an' we's a-usin' ob 'em. De way it happened
was like o' dis. Me an' him was a standin' upon a petterstal down in
one o' dem mahble yards what dey calls gall'ries in Paris. We'd been
sent dah by de man what done chiselled us, an' Joop'ter he came 'long
wid Miss' Juno an' when he seed us he said: 'Dare you is, Juno! Dem
boys'll make mighty good buttonses foh de hotel.' Juno she laffed, an'
said dat was so, on'y she couldn't see as we had many buttons. 'Would
you like to have 'em?' Joop'ter ast, and she said 'suttinly.' So he
tu'ned hisself into a 'Merican millionaire an' bought me an' him off
'n de manager, an' he had us sent here. All dat time we was nuffin'
but mahble figgers, but soon's we arrived here, Joop'ter sent us
up-stairs to de lab'ratory, an' fust ting me an' him knowed we was
livin' bein's."
I admired Jupiter's taste, not failing either to marvel at the
wonderful power which only once before, as far as I knew, he had
exerted to give to a bit of sculpture all the flush and glory of life,
as in the case set forth in the pathetic tale of Pygmalion and
Galatea.
"And does he do this sort of thing often?" I inquired.