A House-Boat on the Styx | Page 6

to the house committee's
pleasure, and we think it would be well to have a Janitor who has some
influence 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 salary
of two hundred oboli a month, with Saturdays off."
The committee went into executive session for five minutes, and on
their return informed Charon that in behalf of the Associated Shades
they accepted his offer.
"In behalf of what?" the old man asked.
"The Associated Shades," said Sir Walter. "The swellest organization
in Hades, whose new house-boat you are now on board of. When shall
you be ready to begin work?"
"Right away," said Charon, noting by the clock that it was the hour of
midnight. "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
on board. "Any one here to-night?"
"Yes, sir," said Charon. "Lord Bacon is up in the library, and Doctor
Johnson 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 a twinkle
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 the
pool- room, just to show the Fates that he didn't care a tuppence for

their verdict as registered through the obolus. It was a peculiar custom
of Shakespeare's to toss up a coin to decide questions of little
consequence, and then do the thing the coin decided he should not do.
It showed, in Shakespeare's estimation, his entire independence of
those dull persons who supposed that in them was centred the destiny
of all mankind. The Fates, however, only smiled at these little acts of
rebellion, and it was common gossip in Erebus that one of the trio had
told the Furies that they had observed Shakespeare's tendency to kick
over the traces, and always acted accordingly. They never let the coin
fall so as to decide a question the way they wanted it, so that
unwittingly the great dramatist did their will after all. It was a part of
their plan that upon this occasion Shakespeare should play pool with
Doctor Johnson and the Emperor Nero, and hence it was that the coin
bade him repair to the library and chat 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 this
morning, and I'm tired."
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," said Nero, grinning
broadly.
"You are a bright spirit," said Shakespeare, with a sigh. "I wish I had
thought to work you up into a tragedy."
"I've often wondered why you didn't," said Doctor Johnson. "He'd have
made a superb tragedy, Nero would. I don't believe there was any kind
of a crime he left uncommitted. Was there, Emperor?"
"Yes. I never wrote an English dictionary," returned the Emperor, dryly.
"I've murdered everything but English, though."
"I could have made a fine tragedy out of you," said Shakespeare. "Just
think what a dreadful climax for a tragedy it would be, Johnson, to
have Nero, as the curtain fell, playing a violin solo."

"Pretty good," returned the Doctor. "But what's the use of killing off
your audience that way? It's better business to let 'em live, I say.
Suppose Nero gave a London audience that little musicale he provided
at Queen Elizabeth's Wednesday night. How many purely mortal
beings, do you think, would have come out alive?"
"Not one," said Shakespeare. "I was mighty glad that night that we
were an immortal band. If it had been possible to kill us we'd have died
then and there."
"That's all right," said Nero, with a significant shake of his head. "As
my friend Bacon makes Ingo say, 'Beware, my lord, of jealousy.' You
never could play a garden hose, much less a fiddle."
"What do you mean my attributing those words to Bacon?" demanded
Shakespeare, getting red in the face.
"Oh, come now, William," remonstrated Nero. "It's all right to pull the
wool over the eyes of the mortals. That's what they're there for; but as
for