The room to which I was assigned was regal in its magnificence, and
yet comfortable. Few modern hotels afforded anything like it, and,
tired as I was, I could not venture to rest until I had investigated
it and its contents thoroughly. It was, I should say, about twenty by
thirty feet in its dimensions, and lighted by a soft, mellow glow that
sprang forth from all parts without any visible source of supply. At
the far end was a huge window, before which were drawn porti�res of
rich material in most graceful folds. Pulling these to one side, so
that I might see what the outlook from the window might be, I
staggered back appalled at the infinite grandeur of what lay before my
eyes. It seemed as if all space were there, and yet within the compass
of my vision. Planets which to my eye had hitherto been but twinkling
specks of light in the blackness of the heavens became peopled worlds,
which I could see in detail and recognize. Mars with its canals,
Saturn with its rings--all were there before me, seemingly within
reach of my outstretched hand. The world in which I lived appeared to
have been removed from the middle distance, and those things which had
rested beyond the ken of the mortal mind brought to my very feet, to
be seen and touched and comprehended.
Then I threw the window open, and all was changed. The distant
objects faded, and a beautiful golden city greeted my eyes--the city
of Olympus, in which I was to pass so many happy hours. For the
instant I was puzzled. Why at one moment the treasures of the universe
of space had greeted my vision, and how all that had faded and the
immediate surroundings of a celestial city lay before me, were not
easy to understand. I drew back and closed the window again, and at
once all became clear; the window-glass held the magic properties of
the magnifying-lens, developed to an intensity which annihilated all
space, and I began to see that the development of mortals in
scientific matters was puny beside that of the gods in whose hands lay
all the secrets of the universe, although the principles involved were
in our full possession.
The situation overwhelmed me somewhat, and I drew the porti�res
together again. The feelings that came over me were similar to those
that come to one standing on the edge of a great precipice gazing
downward into the vast, black depths yawning at his feet. The
giddiness that once, many years before, came upon me as I stood on the
brink of the Niagaran cataract, which seemed irresistibly impelling me
to join the mad rush of the waters, surged over me again, and I forced
myself backward into the room, shutting out the sight, lest I should
cast myself forth into the infinite space beyond. I threw myself down
upon a couch and covered my eyes with my hands and tried to realize
the situation. I was drunk with awe at all that was about me, and
should, I think, have gone mad trying to comprehend its grandeur, had
not my spirit been soothed by soft strains of music that now fell upon
my ears.
I opened my eyes to discover whence the sounds had come, and even as
the light streamed from unknown and unseen sources, so it was with the
harmonies which followed, harmonies surpassing in beauty and swelling
glory anything I had ever heard before.
And to these magnificent but soft and soothing strains I yielded
myself up and slept. How long my sleep continued I have no means of
knowing. It seemed to last but an instant, but when I opened my eyes
once more I felt absolutely renewed in body and in spirit. The damp
garments which I had worn when I fell back upon the couch had in some
wise been removed, and when I stood up to indulge in the usual
stretching of my limbs I found myself clad in an immaculate flowing
robe of white, soft of texture, fastened at the neck with a jewelled
brooch, and at the waist its fulness restrained by a girdle of gold.
Furthermore, I had apparently been put through a process of ablution
which left me with the cockles of my heart as warm as toast, and my
whole being permeated with a glow of health which I had not known for
many years. The aches in my bones, which I had feared on waking to
find intensified, were gone; and if I could have retained permanently
the aspect of vigor and beauty which was returned to me by the mirror
when I stood before it, I should be in imminent danger of becoming
conceited.
"I wonder," said I, as I gazed at myself in the mirror, "if this is
the correct costume for breakfast. It's a slight drawback to know
nothing of the customs of the locality in which you find yourself.
Possibly an investigation of my new wardrobe will help me to decide."
I looked over the rich garments which had been provided, and found
nothing which, according to my simple bringing up, suggested the idea
that it was a good thing to wear at the morning meal.
"They ought to send me a valet," I murmured. "Perhaps they will if I
ring for one. Where the deuce is the bell, I wonder?"
A search of the room soon divulged the resting-place of this desirable
adjunct to the tourist's comfort. The dial system which has proved so
successful in American hotels was in vogue here, except that it
manifested a willingness on the part of the proprietor to provide the
guest with a range of articles utterly beyond anything to be found in
the purely mundane caravansary. I found that anything under the canopy
that the mind of man could conceive of could be had by the mere
pushing of a button. The disk of the electrical apparatus was divided
off into many sections, calling respectively for saddle-horses,
symphony concerts, ocean steamships, bath-towels, stenographers;
cocktails of all sorts, and some sorts of which I had never before
heard, and all of which I resolved to try in discreet sequence;
manicures, chiropodists, astrologers, prophets, clergymen of all
denominations, plots for novelists--indeed, anything that any person
in any station of life might chance to desire could be got for the
ringing.
My immediate need, however, was for a valet. Puzzled as to the manners
and customs of the gods, I did not wish to make a bad appearance in
the dining-room in a costume which should not be appropriate. I did
think of ordering breakfast served in my room, but that seemed a very
mortal and not a particularly godlike thing to do. Hence, I rang for a
valet.
[Illustration: "ANYTHING COULD BE GOT FOR THE RINGING"]
"I will tell him to get out my morning-suit, and no doubt he will
select the thing I ought to wear," I said as I pressed the button.
The response was instant. My fingers had hardly left the button when a
superb creature stood before me. Whence he sprang I do not know. There
were no opening of doors, no traps or false panels, that I could see.
The individual simply materialized.
"At your service, sir," said he, with a graceful obeisance.
"Pardon me," I replied, overcome once more by what was going on.
"I--ah--think there must be some mistake. I--ah--I didn't ring for a
god, I rang for a valet."
"I am the valet of Olympus, sir," he replied, gracefully flicking a
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.