CHAPTERI：CHARONMAKESADISCOVERY
Charon，theFerrymanofrenown，wascruisingslowlyalongtheStyxonepleasantFridaymorningnotlongago，andashepaddledidlyonhechuckledmildlytohimselfashethoughtofthemonopolyinferriagewhichinthecourseofyearshehadmanagedtobuildup。
"It’sagreatthing，"hesaid，withasmirkofsatisfaction——"it’sagreatthingtobethego—betweenbetweentwostatesofbeing；tohavetheexclusivefranchisetoexportandimportshadesfromonestatetotheother，andwithaltohavehadascleanarecordasminehasbeen。
Valuableasismyfranchise，Inevercorruptedapublicofficialinmylife，and——"
HereCharonstoppedhissoliloquyandhisboatsimultaneously。Asheroundedoneofthemanyturnsintheriverasingularobjectmethisgaze，andone，too，thatfilledhimwithmisgiving。Itwasanothercraft，andthatwasathingnottobetolerated。Hadhe，Charon，ownedtheexclusiverightofwayontheStyxalltheseyearstohaveitdisputedhereintheclosingdecadeoftheNineteenthCentury？
Hadnothedealtsatisfactorilywithall，whetheritwasinthelineofferriageorintheprovidingofboatsforpleasure—tripsuptheriver？Hadhenotreceivedexpressionsofsatisfaction，indeed，fromthemostexclusivefamiliesofHadeswiththeveryselectseriesofpicnicshehadgivenatCharon’sGlenIsland？Nowonder，then，thatthequeer—lookingboatthatmethisgaze，mooredinashadynookonthedarksideoftheriver，filledhimwithdismay。
"BlowmeforalandlubberifIlikethat!"hesaid，inahardlyaudiblewhisper。"AndshivermytimbersifIdon’tfindoutwhatshe’stherefor。Ifanybodythinkshecanrunanoppositionlinetomineonthisriverhe’smightilymistaken。Ifitcomestocompetition，IcancarryshadesfornothingandstillquafftheB。&
G。yellow—labelbenzinethreetimesadaywithoutexperiencingafinancialpanic。I’llshow’emathingortwoiftheyattempttorivalme。Andwhataboat!ItlooksforalltheworldlikeaFlorentinebarnonacanal—boat。"
Charonpaddleduptothesideofthecraft，and，standingupinthemiddleofhisboat，criedout，"Shipahoy!"
Therewasnoanswer，andtheFerrymanhailedheragain。Receivingnoresponsetohissecondcall，heresolvedtoinvestigateforhimself；
so，fasteninghisownboattothestern—postofthestranger，heclamberedonboard。Ifhewasastonishedashesatinhisferry—
boat，hewasparalyzedwhenhecasthiseyeovertheunwelcomevesselhehadboarded。Hestoodforatleasttwominutesrootedtothespot。Hiseyesweptoveralong，broaddeck，thepolishofwhichresembledthatofaball—roomfloor。Amidships，runningfromthree—
quartersafttothree—quartersforward，stoodastructurethatinitslinesresembled，asCharonhadintimated，abarn，designedbyanarchitectenamouredofFlorentinesimplicity；butinitsconstructiontherichestofwoodshadbeenused，andinitsinteriorarrangementandadornmentnothingmorepalatialcouldbeconceived。
"What’sthebloomingthingfor？"saidCharon，moredismayedthanever。"Iftheystartanotherlinewithacraftlikethis，I’mverymuchafraidI’mdoneforafterall。Iwouldn’ttakeaboatlikeminemyselfiftherewasafloatingpalacelikethisgoingthesameway。
I’llhavetoseetheCommissionersaboutthis，andfindoutwhatitallmeans。Isupposeit’llcostmeaprettypenny，too，confoundthem!"
Apreytotheseunhappyreflections，Charoninvestigatedfurther，andthemorehesawthelesshelikedit。Hewasabouttoencounteropposition，andanoppositionwhichwasapparentlybackedbypersonsofgreatwealth——perhapstheCommissionersthemselves。Itwasaconsolingthoughtthathehadsavedenoughmoneyinthecourseofhiscareertoenablehimtoliveincomfortallhisdays，butthiswasnotreallywhatCharonwasafter。Hewishedtoacquireenoughtoretireandbecomeoneofthesmartset。IthadbeendoneinthatsectionoftheuniversewhichlayonthebrightsideoftheStyx，whynot，therefore，ontheother，heasked。
"I’mprettywellconnectedevenifIamaboatman，"hehadbeenknowntosay。"WithChaosforagrandfather，andErebusandNoxforparents，I’vejustasgoodbloodinmyveinsasanybodyinHades。
TheNoxesareamightyfinefamily，notasbrightastheDays，butolder；andwe’repoor——that’sit，poor——andit’smoneymakescastethesedays。IfIhadmillions，andownedarailroad，they’dcallmeayacht—owner。AsIhaven’t，I’monlyaboatman。Bah!Waitandsee!I’llbegivingswellfunctionsmyselfsomeday，andtheseupstartswillbeontheirkneesbeforemebeggingtobeasked。ThenI’llgetupalittlearistocracyofmyown，andIwon’tletasoulintoitwhosenameisn’tmentionedintheGrecianmythologies。
MentioninBurke’speerageandtheElitedirectoriesofAmericawon’tadmitanybodytoCommodoreCharon’shouseunlessthere’ssomeothermightygoodreasonforit。"
Foreseeinganunhappyendingtoallhishopes，theoldmanclamberedsadlybackintohisancientvesselandpaddledoffintothedarkness。
Somehourslater，returningwithalargecompanyofnewarrivals，whilecountinguptheprofitsofthedayCharonagaincaughtsightofthenewcraft，andsawthatitwasbrilliantlylightedandthrongedwiththemostfamouscitizensoftheErebeancountry。Upinthebowwasaspiritbanddiscoursingmusicofthesweetestsort。MerrypealsoflaughterrangoutoverthedarkwatersoftheStyx。Theclinkofglassesandthepoppingofcorkspunctuatedthemusicwithafrequencywhichwouldhavedelightedthesoulofthemostardentloverofcommas，allofwhichsooverpoweredthegrandmasterboatmanoftheStygianFerryCompanythathedroppedthreeoboliandanAmericandime，whichhecarriedasapocket—piece，overboard。This，ofcourse，addedtohiswoe；butitwasforgotteninaninstant，forsomeoneonthenewboathadturnedasearch—lightdirectlyuponCharonhimself，andsimultaneouslyhailedthemasteroftheferry—
boat。
"Charon!"criedtheshadeinchargeofthelight。"Charon，ahoy!"
"Ahoyyourself!"returnedtheoldman，paddlinghiscraftcloseuptothestranger。"Whatdoyouwant？"
"You，"saidtheshade。"Thehousecommitteewanttoseeyourightaway。"
"Whatfor？"askedCharon，cautiously。
"I’msureIdon’tknow。I’monlyamemberoftheclub，andhousecommitteesneverletmeremembersknowanythingabouttheirplans。
AllIknowisthatyouarewanted，"saidtheother。
"Whoarethehousecommittee？"queriedtheFerryman。
"SirWalterRaleigh，Cassius，Demosthenes，Blackstone，DoctorJohnson，andConfucius，"repliedtheshade。
"Tell’emI’llbebackinanhour，"saidCharon，pushingoff。"I’vegotacargoofshadesonboardconsignedtovariousplacesuptheriver。I’vepromisedtoget’emallthroughto—night，butI’llputonacoupleofextrapaddles——twoofthenewarrivalsareworkingtheirpassagethistrip——anditwon’ttakeaslongasusual。Whatboatisthis，anyhow？"
"TheNancyNox，ofErebus。"
"Thunder!"criedCharon，ashepushedoffandproceededonhiswayuptheriver。"Namedaftermymother!Perhapsit’llcomeoutallrightyet。"
Morehopefulofmood，Charon，aidedbythetwodead—headpassengers，soongotthroughwithhisevening’swork，andinlessthananhourwasbackseekingadmittance，asrequested，tothecompanyofSirWalterRaleighandhisfellow—membersonthehousecommittee。Hewasreceivedbytheseworthieswithconsiderableeffusiveness，consideringhispositioninsociety，anditwarmedthecocklesofhisagedhearttonotethatSirWalter，whohadalwaysbeenratherdistanttohimsincehehadcarelesslyupsetthatworthyandQueenElizabethinthemiddleoftheStyxfarbackinthelastcentury，permittedhimtoshakethreefingersofhislefthandwhenheenteredthecommittee—room。
"Howdoyoudo，Charon？"saidSirWalter，affably。"Weareverygladtoseeyou。"
"Thankyou，kindly，SirWalter，"saidtheboatman。"I’mgladtohearthosewords，yourhonor，forI’vebeenfeelingverybadsinceIhadthemisfortunetodropyourExcellencyandherMajestyoverboard。I
neverknewhowithappened，sir，buthappenitdid，andbutforherMajesty’skindassistanceitmighthavebeentheworseforus。Eh，SirWalter？"
TheknightshookhisheadmenacinglyatCharon。HithertohehadmanagedtokeepitasecretthattheQueenhadrescuedhimfromdrowninguponthatoccasionbyswimmingashoreherselffirstandthrowingSirWalterherruffassoonasshelanded，whichhehadusedasalife—preserver。
"’Sh!"hesaid，sottovoce。"Don’tsayanythingaboutthat，myman。"
"Verywell，SirWalter，Iwon’t，"saidtheboatman；buthemadeamentalnoteoftheknight’sagitation，andperceivedameansbywhichthatillustriouscourtiercouldbemadeusefultohiminhisschemingforsocialadvancement。
"Iunderstoodyouhadsomethingtosaytome，"saidCharon，afterhehadgreetedtheothers。
"Wehave，"saidSirWalter。"Wewantyoutoassumecommandofthisboat。"
Theoldfellow’seyeslightedupwithpleasure。
"Youwantacaptain，eh？"hesaid。
"No，"saidConfucius，tappingthetablewithadiamond—studdedchop—
stick。"No。Wewanta——er——whatthedeuceisittheycallthefunctionary，Cassius？"
"Senator，Ithink，"saidCassius。
Demosthenesgavealoudlaugh。
"YourmindisstillrunningonSenatorships，mydearCassius。Thatisquiteevident，"hesaid。"Thisisnotoneofthem，however。ThetitlewewishCharontoassumeisneitherCaptainnorSenator；itisJanitor。"
"What’sthat？"askedCharon，alittledisappointed。"WhatdoesaJanitorhavetodo？"
"Hehastolookafterthingsinthehouse，"explainedSirWalter。
"He’sasortofproprietorbyproxy。Wewantyoutotakechargeofthehouse，andseetoitthattheboatiskeptshipshape。"
"Whereisthehouse？"queriedtheastonishedboatman。
"Thisisit，"saidSirWalter。"Thisisthehouse，andtheboattoo。
Infact，itisahouse—boat。"
"Thenitisn’tanew—fangledschemetodrivemeoutofbusiness？"
saidCharon，warily。
"Notatall，"returnedSirWalter。"It’sanew—fangledschemetosetyouupinbusiness。We’llpayyoualargesalary，andtherewon’tbemuchtodo。Youarethebestmanfortheplace，because，whileyoudon’tknowmuchabouthouses，youdoknowagreatdealaboutboats，andtheboatpartisthemostimportantpartofahouse—boat。Iftheboatsinks，youcan’tsavethehouse；butifthehouseburns，youmaybeabletosavetheboat。See？"
"IthinkIdo，sir，"saidCharon。
"AnotherreasonwhywewanttoemployyouforJanitor，"saidConfucius，"isthatourclubwantstobeindirectcommunicationwithbothsidesoftheStyx；andwethinkyouasJanitorwouldbeabletomakebetterarrangementsfortransportationwithyourselfasboatman，thansomeothermanasJanitorcouldmakewithyou。"
"Spokenlikeasage，"saidDemosthenes。
"Furthermore，"saidCassius，"occasionallyweshallwanttohavethisboattowedupordowntheriver，accordingtothehousecommittee’spleasure，andwethinkitwouldbewelltohaveaJanitorwhohassomeinfluencewiththetowingcompanywhichyourepresent。"
"Can’tthisboatbemovedwithouttowing？"askedCharon。
"No，"saidCassius。
"AndI’mtheonlymanwhocantowit，eh？"
"Youare，"saidBlackstone。"Worseluck。"
"AndyouwantmetobeJanitoronasalaryofwhat？"
"Ahundredoboliamonth，"saidSirWalter，uneasily。
"Verywell，gentlemen，"saidCharon。"I’llaccepttheofficeonasalaryoftwohundredoboliamonth，withSaturdaysoff。"
Thecommitteewentintoexecutivesessionforfiveminutes，andontheirreturninformedCharonthatinbehalfoftheAssociatedShadestheyacceptedhisoffer。
"Inbehalfofwhat？"theoldmanasked。
"TheAssociatedShades，"saidSirWalter。"TheswellestorganizationinHades，whosenewhouse—boatyouarenowonboardof。Whenshallyoubereadytobeginwork？"
"Rightaway，"saidCharon，notingbytheclockthatitwasthehourofmidnight。"I’llstartinrightaway，andasitisnowSaturdaymorning，I’llbeginbytakingmydayoff。"
CHAPTERII：ADISPUTEDAUTHORSHIP
"Howareyou，Charon？"saidShakespeare，astheJanitorassistedhimonboard。"Anyonehereto—night？"
"Yes，sir，"saidCharon。"LordBaconisupinthelibrary，andDoctorJohnsonisdowninthebilliard—room，playingpoolwithNero。"
"Ha—ha!"laughedShakespeare。"Pool，eh？DoesNeroplaypool？"
"Notaswellashedoesthefiddle，sir，"saidtheJanitor，withatwinkleinhiseye。
Shakespeareenteredthehouseandtossedupanobolus。"Heads——
Bacon；tails——poolwithNeroandJohnson，"hesaid。
Thecoincamedownwithheadsup，andShakespearewentintothepool—
room，justtoshowtheFatesthathedidn’tcareatuppencefortheirverdictasregisteredthroughtheobolus。ItwasapeculiarcustomofShakespeare’stotossupacointodecidequestionsoflittleconsequence，andthendothethingthecoindecidedheshouldnotdo。
Itshowed，inShakespeare’sestimation，hisentireindependenceofthosedullpersonswhosupposedthatinthemwascentredthedestinyofallmankind。TheFates，however，onlysmiledattheselittleactsofrebellion，anditwascommongossipinErebusthatoneofthetriohadtoldtheFuriesthattheyhadobservedShakespeare’stendencytokickoverthetraces，andalwaysactedaccordingly。Theyneverletthecoinfallsoastodecideaquestionthewaytheywantedit，sothatunwittinglythegreatdramatistdidtheirwillafterall。ItwasapartoftheirplanthatuponthisoccasionShakespeareshouldplaypoolwithDoctorJohnsonandtheEmperorNero，andhenceitwasthatthecoinbadehimrepairtothelibraryandchatwithLordBacon。
"Hullo，William，"saidtheDoctor，pocketingthreeballsonthebreak。"How’sourlittleSwanletofAvonthisafternoon？"
"Wornout，"Shakespearereplied。"I’vebeenhardatworkonaplaythismorning，andI’mtired。"
"AllworkandnoplaymakesJackadullboy，"saidNero，grinningbroadly。
"Youareabrightspirit，"saidShakespeare，withasigh。"IwishI
hadthoughttoworkyouupintoatragedy。"
"I’veoftenwonderedwhyyoudidn’t，"saidDoctorJohnson。"He’dhavemadeasuperbtragedy，Nerowould。Idon’tbelievetherewasanykindofacrimeheleftuncommitted。Wasthere，Emperor？"
"Yes。IneverwroteanEnglishdictionary，"returnedtheEmperor，dryly。"I’vemurderedeverythingbutEnglish，though。"
"Icouldhavemadeafinetragedyoutofyou，"saidShakespeare。
"Justthinkwhatadreadfulclimaxforatragedyitwouldbe，Johnson，tohaveNero，asthecurtainfell，playingaviolinsolo。"
"Prettygood，"returnedtheDoctor。"Butwhat’stheuseofkillingoffyouraudiencethatway？It’sbetterbusinesstolet’emlive，I
say。SupposeNerogaveaLondonaudiencethatlittlemusicaleheprovidedatQueenElizabeth’sWednesdaynight。Howmanypurelymortalbeings，doyouthink，wouldhavecomeoutalive？"
"Notone，"saidShakespeare。"Iwasmightygladthatnightthatwewereanimmortalband。Ifithadbeenpossibletokilluswe’dhavediedthenandthere。"
"That’sallright，"saidNero，withasignificantshakeofhishead。
"AsmyfriendBaconmakesIngosay，’Beware，mylord，ofjealousy。’
Younevercouldplayagardenhose，muchlessafiddle。"
"WhatdoyoumeanmyattributingthosewordstoBacon？"demandedShakespeare，gettingredintheface。
"Oh，comenow，William，"remonstratedNero。"It’sallrighttopullthewoolovertheeyesofthemortals。That’swhatthey’retherefor；butasforus——we’reallinthesecrethere。What’stheuseofputtingonnonsensewithus？"
"We’llseeinaminutewhattheuseis，"retortedtheAvonian。
"We’llhaveBacondownhere。"Herehetouchedanelectricbutton，andCharoncameinanswer。
"Charon，bringDoctorJohnsontheusualglassofale。GetsomeicefortheEmperor，andaskLordBacontostepdownhereaminute。"
"Idon’twantanyice，"saidNero。
"Notnow，"retortedShakespeare，"butyouwillinafewminutes。
Whenwehavefinishedwithyou，you’llwantaniceberg。I’mgettingtiredofthisidiotictalkaboutnothavingwrittenmyownworks。
There’sonethingaboutNero’smusicthatI’veneversaid，becauseI
haven’twantedtohurthisfeelings，butsincehehaschosentocastaspersionsuponmyhonestyIhaven’tanyhesitationinsayingitnow。
IbelieveitwasoneofhisfiddlingsthatsentNatureintoconvulsionsandcausedthedestructionofPompeii——sothere!Putthatonyourmusicrackandfiddleit，mylittleEmperor。"
Nero’sfacegrewpurplewithanger，andifShakespearehadbeenanythingbutashadehewouldhavefaredill，fortheenragedRoman，poisinghiscueonhighasthoughitwerealance，hurleditattheimpertinentdramatistwithallhisstrength，andwithsuchaccuracyofaimwithalthatitpiercedthespotbeneathwhichinlifetheheartofShakespeareusedtobeat。
"Goodshot，"saidDoctorJohnson，nonchalantly。"Ifyouhadbeenamortal，William，itwouldhavebeentheendofyou。"
"Youcan’tkillme，"saidShakespeare，shrugginghisshoulders。"I
knowsevendozenactorsintheUnitedStateswhoaretryingtodoit，buttheycan’t。Iwishthey’dtrytokillacriticonceinawhileinsteadofme，though，"headded。"IwentovertoBostononenightlastweek，and，unknowntoanybody，IwaylaidafellowwhowastoplayHamletthatnight。Idruggedhim，andwenttothetheatreandplayedthepartmyself。Itwasthecoldesthouseyoueversawinyourlife。Whentheaudiencedidapplaud，itsoundedlikeanice—manchoppingupicewithasmallpick。SeveraltimesIlookedupatthegalleriestoseeiftherewerenoticiclesgrowingonthem，itwassocold。Well，Ididthebestcouldwiththepart，andnextmorningwatchedcuriouslyforthecriticisms。"
"Favorable？"askedtheDoctor。
"Theyalldismissedmewithaline，"saidthedramatist。"SaidmyconceptionofthepartwasnotShakespearian。Andthat’scriticism!"
"No，"saidtheshadeofEmerson，whichhadstrolledinwhileShakespearewastalking，"thatisn’tcriticism；that’sBoston。"
"WhodiscoveredBoston，anyhow？"askedDoctorJohnson。"Itwasn’tColumbus，wasit？"
"Ohno，"saidEmerson。"OldGovernorWinthropistoblameforthat。
WhenhesettledatCharlestownhesawtheoldIndiantownofShawmutacrosstheCharles。"
"AndShawmutwastheBostonmicrobe，wasit？"askedJohnson。
"Yes，"saidEmerson。
"SpeltwithaP，Isuppose？"saidShakespeare。"P—S—H—A—W，Pshaw，M—
U—T，mut，Pshawmut，socalledbecausetheinhabitantsarealwaysmutteringpshaw。Eh？"
"Prettygood，"saidJohnson。"IwishI’dsaidthat。"
"Well，tellBoswell，"saidShakespeare。"He’llmakeyousayit，andit’llbeallthesameinahundredyears。"
LordBacon，accompaniedbyCharonandtheiceforNeroandthealeforDoctorJohnson，appearedasShakespearespoke。ThephilosopherbowedstifflyatDoctorJohnson，asthoughhehardlyapprovedofhim，extendedhislefthandtoShakespeare，andstaredcoldlyatNero。
"Didyousendforme，William？"heasked，languidly。
"Idid，"saidShakespeare。"IsentforyoubecausethisimperialviolinistheresaysthatyouwroteOthello。"
"Whatnonsense，"saidBacon。"TheonlyplaysofyoursIwrotewereHam——"
"Sh!"saidShakespeare，shakinghisheadmadly。"Hush。Nobody’ssaidanythingaboutthat。ThisispurelyadiscussionofOthello。"
"Thefiddlingex—EmperorNero，"saidBacon，loudlyenoughtobeheardallabouttheroom，"ismistakenwhenheattributesOthellotome。"
"Aha，MasterNero!"criedShakespearetriumphantly。"WhatdidItellyou？"
"ThenIerred，thatisall，"saidNero。"AndIapologize。Butreally，myLord，"headded，addressingBacon，"IfanciedIdetectedyourfineItalianhandinthat。"
"No。IhadnothingtodowiththeOthello，"saidBacon。"Ineverreallyknewwhowroteit。"
"Nevermindaboutthat，"whisperedShakespeare。"You’vesaidenough。"
"That’sgoodtoo，"saidNero，withachuckle。"Shakespearehereclaimsitashisown。"
BaconsmiledandnoddedapprovinglyattheblushingAvonian。
"Willalwayswashavinghislittlejoke，"hesaid。"Eh，Will？Howwefooled’emonHamlet，eh，myboy？Ha—ha—ha!Itwasthegreatestjokeofthecentury。"
"Well，thelaughisonyou，"saidDoctorJohnson。"IfyouwroteHamletanddidn’thavethesensetoacknowledgeit，youpresenttomymindacloserresemblancetoSimpleSimonthantoSocrates。Formypart，Idon’tbelieveyoudidwriteit，andIdobelievethatShakespearedid。Icantellthatbythespellingintheoriginaledition。"
"Shakespearewasmystenographer，gentlemen，"saidLordBacon。"Ifyouwanttoknowthewholetruth，hedidwriteHamlet，literally。
Butitwasatmydictation。"
"Idenyit，"saidShakespeare。"Iadmityougavemeasuggestionnowandthensoastokeepitdullandheavyinspots，sothatitwouldseemmorelikearealtragedythanacomedypunctuatedwithdeaths，butbeyondthatyouhadnothingtodowithit。"
"IsidewithShakespeare，"putinEmerson。"I’veseenhisautographs，andnosanepersonwouldemployamanwhowrotesuchavillanouslybadhandasanamanuensis。It’snouse，Bacon，weknowathingortwo。I’maNew—Englander，Iam。"
"Well，"saidBacon，shrugginghisshouldersasthoughtheresultsofthecontroversywereimmaterialtohim，"haveitsoifyouplease。
Thereisn’tanymoneyinShakespearethesedays，sowhat’stheuseofquarrelling？IwroteHamlet，andShakespeareknowsit。Othersknowit。Ah，herecomesSirWalterRaleigh。We’llleaveittohim。Hewascognizantofthewholeaffair。"
"Ileaveittonobody，"saidShakespeare，sulkily。
"What’sthetrouble？"askedRaleigh，saunteringupandtakingachairunderthecue—rack。"Talkingpolitics？"
"Notwe，"saidBacon。"It’stheoldquestionabouttheauthorshipofHamlet。Will，asusual，claimsitforhimself。He’llbesayinghewroteGenesisnext。"
"Well，whatifhedoes？"laughedRaleigh。"WeallknowWillandhisdrollways。"
"Nodoubt，"putinNero。"ButthequestionofHamletalwaysexciteshimsothatwe’dliketohaveitsettledonceandforallastowhowroteit。Baconsaysyouknow。"
"Ido，"saidRaleigh。
"Thensettleitonceandforall，"saidBacon。"I’mrathertiredofthediscussionmyself。"
"ShallItell’em，Shakespeare？"askedRaleigh。
"It’simmaterialtome，"saidShakespeare，airily。"Ifyouwish——
onlytellthetruth。"
"Verywell，"saidRaleigh，lightingacigar。"I’mnotashamedofit。
Iwrotethethingmyself。"
Therewasaroaroflaughterwhich，whenitsubsided，foundShakespearerapidlydisappearingthroughthedoor，whilealltheothersintheroomorderedvariousbeveragesattheexpenseofLordBacon。
CHAPTERIII：WASHINGTONGIVESADINNER
ItwasWashington’sBirthday，andthegentlemanwhohadthepleasureofbeingFatherofhisCountrydecidedtocelebrateitattheAssociatedShades’floatingpalaceontheStyx，astheElysiumWeeklyGossip，"aJournalofSociety，"calledit，bygivingadinnertoaselectnumberoffriends。AmongtheinvitedguestswereBaronMunchausen，DoctorJohnson，Confucius，NapoleonBonaparte，Diogenes，andPtolemy。Boswellwasalsopresent，butnotasaguest。Hehadatableofftoonesidealltohimself，anduponittherewerenochinaplates，silverspoons，knives，forks，anddishesoffruit，butpads，pens，andinkingreatquantity。ItwasevidentthatBoswell’sreportorialdutiesdidnotendwithhislaborsinthemundanesphere。
Thedinnerwassetdowntobeginatseveno’clock，sothattheguests，aswasproper，saunteredslowlyinbetweenthathourandeight。Themenuwasparticularlychoice，theshadesofcountlesscanvas—backducks，terrapin，andsheephavingbeencalledintorequisition，andcookedbynolessapersonthanBrillat—Savarin，inthehottestovenhecouldfindinthefamouscookingestablishmentsuperintendedbythegovernment。Washingtonwasonhandearly，samplingtheolivesandtheceleryandthewines，andgivingtoCharonfinalinstructionsastothemannerinwhichhewishedthingsserved。
ThefirstguesttoarrivewasConfucius，andafterhimcameDiogenes，thelatteringreatexcitementoverhavingdiscoveredacomparativelyhonestman，whosename，however，hehadnotbeenabletoascertain，thoughhewasundertheimpressionthatitwassomethinglikeBurpin，orTurpin，hesaid。
Ateightthebrilliantcompanywasarrangedcomfortablyabouttheboard。Anorchestraoffive，undertheleadershipofMozart，discoursedsweetmusicbehindascreen，andthefeastofreasonandflowofsoulbegan。
"Thisisagreatday，"saidDoctorJohnson，assistinghimselfcopiouslytotheolives。
"Yes，"saidColumbus，whowasalsoaguest——"yes，itisagreatday，butitisn’tamarkertoalittledayinOctoberIwotof。"
"Stillsoreonthatpoint？"queriedConfucius，tryingtheedgeofhisknifeontheshadeofasaltedalmond。
"Ohno，"saidColumbus，calmly。"Idon’tfeeljealousofWashington。
HeistheFatherofhisCountryandIamnot。Ionlydiscoveredtheorphan。Iknewthecountrybeforeithadafatheroramother。
Therewasn’tanybodywhowaswillingtobeevenasistertoitwhenI
knewit。ButG。W。heretookitinhand，groomeditdown，spankeditwhenitneededit，andstarteditoffonthecareerwhichhasmadeitworthwhileformetoletmynamebeknowninconnectionwithit。
WhyshouldIbejealousofhim？"
"IamsureIdon’tknowwhyanybodyanywhereshouldbejealousofanybodyelseanyhow，"saidDiogenes。"IneverwasandIneverexpecttobe。Jealousyisaqualitythatisutterlyforeigntothenatureofanhonestman。Takemyowncase，forinstance。WhenIwaswhattheycallalive，howdidIlive？"
"Idon’tknow，"saidDoctorJohnson，turninghisheadashespokesothatBoswellcouldnotfailtohear。"Iwasn’tthere。"
Boswellnoddedapprovingly，chuckledslightly，andputtheDoctor’sremarkdownforpublicationinTheGossip。
"You’redoubtlessright，there，"retortedDiogenes。"Whatyoudon’tknowwouldfillacirculatinglibrary。Well——Ilivedinatub。Now，ifIbelievedinenvy，IsupposeyouthinkI’dbeenviousofpeoplewholiveinbrownstonefrontswithbackyardsandmortgages，eh？"
"I’dratherliveunderamortgagethaninatub，"saidBonaparte，contemptuously。
"Iknowyouwould，"saidDiogenes。"Mortgagesneverbotheredyou——
butIwouldn’t。Inthefirstplace，mytubwaswarm。Ineversawahousewithabrownstonefrontthatwas，exceptinsummer，andthentheownercurseditbecauseitwasso。Mytubhadnoplumbinginittogetoutoforder。Ithadn’tanyflightsofstairsinitthathadtobeclimbedafterdinner，orlateatnightwhenIcamehomefromtheclub。Ithadnofrontdoorwithawanderingkey—holecalculatedtoeludethekeyninety—ninetimesoutofeveryhundredeffortstobringthetwotogetherandreconciletheirdifferences，inorderthattheirownermaygetintohisownhouselateatnight。Itwasn’tchaineddowntoanyparticularneighborhood，asaremostbrownstonefronts。Iftheneighborhoodrandown，Icouldmovemytuboffintoabetterneighborhood，anditneverlostvaluethroughthedeteriorationofitslocation。Ineverhadtopaytaxesonit，andnoburglarwaseversohardupthathethoughtofbreakingintomyhabitationtorobme。SowhyshouldIbejealousofthebrownstone—
housedwellers？Iamaphilosopher，gentlemen。Itellyou，philosophyisthethiefofjealousy，andIhadthegood—lucktofinditoutearlyinlife。"
"Thereismuchinwhatyousay，"saidConfucius。"Butthere’sanothersidetothematter。Ifamanisanaristocratbynature，asIwas，hisneighborhoodnevercouldrundown。Whereverhelivedwouldbetheswellsection，sothatreallyyourlastargumentisn’tworthastewedicicle。"
"Stewediciclesareprettygood，though，"saidBaronMunchausen，withanecstaticsmackofhislips。"I’veeatenthemmanyatimeinthepolarregions。"
"Ihavenodoubtofit，"putinDoctorJohnson。"You’veeatenfriedpyramidsinAfrica，too，haven’tyou？"
"Onlyonce，"saidtheBaron，calmly。"AndIcan’tsayIenjoyedthem。Theyareratherheavyforthedigestion。"
"That’sso，"saidPtolemy。"I’vehadexperiencewithpyramidsmyself。"
"Youneverateone，didyou，Ptolemy？"queriedBonaparte。
"Notraw，"saidPtolemy，withachuckle。"ThoughI’vebeentemptedmanyatimetocallforasecondjointoftheSphinx。"
Therewasalaughatthis，inwhichallbutBaronMunchausenjoined。
"Ithinkitistoobad，"saidtheBaron，asthelaughtersubsided——"I
thinkitisverymuchtoobadthatyoushadeshavebroughtmundaneprejudicewithyouintothissphere。Justbecausesomepeoplewithfinitemindsprofesstodisbelievemystories，youthinkitwelltobescepticalyourselves。Idon’tcare，however，whetheryoubelievemeornot。ThefactremainsthatIhaveeatenonefriedpyramidandcountlessstewedicicles，andthestewedicicleswerefinerthananydiamond—backratConfuciuseverhadservedatastatebanquet。"
"Where’sShakespeareto—night？"askedConfucius，seeingthattheBaronwasbeginningtolosehistemper，andwishingtoavoidtroublebychangingthesubject。"Wasn’theinvited，General？"
"Yes，"saidWashington，"hewasinvited，buthecouldn’tcome。Hehadtogoovertherivertoconsultwithanautographsyndicatethey’veformedinNewYork。Youknow，hisautographssellforaboutonethousanddollarsapiece，andthey’retryingtogetupaschemewherebyheshallcontributeanautographaweektothesyndicate，tobesoldtothepublic。Itseemslikearichscheme，butthere’sonethingintheway。Posthumousautographshaven’tverymuchofamarket，becausethemortalscan’tbemadetobelievethattheyaregenuine；butthesyndicatehasgotamanatworktryingtogetoverthat。TheseYankeesareamightyinventivelot，andtheythinkperhapstheschemecanbeworked。TheYankeeISaninventivegenius。"
"ItwasaYankeeinventedthattaleaboutyournotbeingabletoprevaricate，wasn’tit，George？"askedDiogenes。
Washingtonsmiledacquiescence，andDoctorJohnsonreturnedtoShakespeare。
"I’dratherhaveamorning—gloryvinethanoneofShakespeare’sautographs，"saidhe。"Theyarefarprettier，andquiteaslegible。"
"Mortalswouldn’t，"saidBonaparte。
"Whatfoolstheybe!"chuckledJohnson。
Atthispointthecanvas—backduckswereserved，onewholeshadeofabirdforeachguest。
"Fallto，gentlemen，"saidWashington，gazinghungrilyathisbird。
"Whencanvas—backducksareonthetableconversationisnotrequiredofanyone。"
"Itisfortunateforusthatwehavesoconsiderateahost，"saidConfucius，unfasteninghisrobeandpreparingtodojusticetothefaresetbeforehim。"Ihavedinedoften，butneverbeforewithonewhowaswillingtoletmeeatabirdlikethisinsilence。
Washington，here’stoyou。Mayyourlifebechequeredwithbirthdays，andmayoursbeequallywellsuppliedwithfeastslikethisatyourexpense!"
Thetoastwasdrained，andthedinersfelltoasrequested。
"They’regreat，aren’tthey？"whisperedBonapartetoMunchausen。
"Well，rather，"returnedtheBaron。"Idon’tseewhythemortalsdon’terectastatuetothecanvas—back。"
"Didanybodyatthisboardeverhaveasmuchcanvas—backduckashecouldeat？"askedDoctorJohnson。
"Yes，"saidtheBaron。"Idid。Once。"
"Oh，you!"sneeredPtolemy。"You’vehadeverything。"
"Exceptthemumps，"retortedMunchausen。"But，honestly，Ididoncehaveasmuchcanvas—backduckasIcouldeat。"
"Itmusthavecostyouamillion，"saidBonaparte。"Buteventhenthey’dbecheap，especiallytoamanlikeyourselfwhocouldperformmiracles。IfIcouldhaveperformedmiracleswiththeeasewhichwassocharacteristicofallyourefforts，I’dneverhavediedatSt。
Helena。"
"What’stheoddswhereyoudied？"saidDoctorJohnson。"Ifithadn’tbeenatSt。Helenaitwouldhavebeensomewhereelse，andyou’dhavefounddeathasstuffyinoneplaceasinanother。"
"Don’tlet’stalkofdeath，"saidWashington。"IamsuretheBaron’staleofhowhecametohaveenoughcanvas—backismorediverting。"
"I’venodoubtitismoreperverting，"saidJohnson。
"Ithappenedthisway，"saidMunchausen。"Iwasoutforsport，andI
gotit。Iwasalone，myservanthavingfallenill，whichwasunfortunate，sinceIhadalwaysleftthefillingofmycartridge—boxtohim，andunderestimateditscapacity。Istartedatsixinthemorning，and，nothavinghuntedforseveralmonths，wasnotinverygoodform，so，nogameappearingforatime，Itookafewpracticeshots，tryingtosnipofftheslendertopsofthepine—treesthatI
encounteredwithmybullets，succeedingtolerablywellforonewhowasalittlerusty，bringingdownninety—nineoutofthefirstonehundredandone，andmissingtheremainingtwobysuchaclosemarginthattheyswayedtoandfroasthoughfannedbyaslightbreeze。AsIfiredmyonehundredandfirstshotwhatshouldIseebeforemebutaflockofthesedelicatebirdsfloatingupontheplacidwatersofthebay!"
"WasthistheBayofBiscay，Baron？"queriedColumbus，withacovertsmileatPtolemy。
"Icountedthem，"saidtheBaron，ignoringthequestion，"andtherewerejustsixty—eight。’Here’sachancefortherecord，Baron，’saidItomyself，andthenImadereadytoshootthem。Imaginemydismay，gentlemen，whenIdiscoveredthatwhileIhadplentyofpowderleftI
hadusedupallmybullets。Now，asyoumayimagine，toamanwithnobulletsathand，thesightofsixty—eightfatcanvas—backsishardlyencouraging，butIwasresolvedtohaveeveryoneofthosebirds；thequestionwas，howshallIdoit？Inevercanthinkonwater，soIpaddledquietlyashoreandbegantoreflect。AsIlaytheredeepinthought，Isawlyinguponthebeachbeforemeasuperboyster，andasreflectionmakesmehungryIseizeduponthebivalveandswallowedhim。Ashewentdownsomethingstuckinmythroat，and，extricatingit，whatshoulditprovetobebutapearlofsurpassingbeauty。Myfirstthoughtwastobecontentwithmyday’sfind。Apearlworththousandssurelywasenoughtosatisfythemostardentloverofsport；butonlookingupIsawthoseducksstillpaddlingcontentedlyabout，andIcouldnotbringmyselftogivethemup。Suddenlytheideacame，thepearlisaslargeasabullet，andfullyasround。Whynotuseit？Then，asthoughtscometomeinshoals，Inextreflected，’Ah——butthisisonlyonebulletasagainstsixty—eightbirds：’immediatelyathirdthoughtcame，’whynotshootthemallwithasinglebullet？Itispossible，thoughnotprobable。’
Isnatchedoutapadofpaperandapencil，madearapidcalculationbasedonthedoctrineofchances，andprovedtomyownsatisfactionthatatsometimeoranotherwithinthefollowingtwoweeksthosebirdswoulddoubtlessbesittinginastraightlineandpaddlingabout，Indianfile，foraninstant。Iresolvedtoawaitthatinstant。Iloadedmygunwiththepearlandasufficientquantityofpowdertosendthechargethrougheveryoneoftheducksif，perchance，thefirstduckwereproperlyhit。Topassoverwearisomedetails，letmesaythatithappenedjustasIexpected。Ihadoneweekandsixdaystowait，butfinallythecriticalmomentcame。Itwasatmidnight，butfortunatelythemoonwasatthefull，andI
couldseeasplainlyasthoughithadbeenday。ThemomenttheduckswereinlineIaimedandfired。Theyeveryonesquawked，turnedover，anddied。Mypearlhadpiercedthewholesixty—eight。"
Boswellblushed。
"Ahem!"saidDoctorJohnson。"Itwasapitytolosethepearl。"
"That，"saidMunchausen，"wasthemostinterestingpartofthestory。
Ihadmadeasecondcalculationinordertosavethepearl。I
deducedtheamountofpowdernecessarytosendthegemthroughsixty—
sevenandahalfbirds，andmydeductionwasstrictlyaccurate。Itfulfilleditsmissionofdeathonsixty—sevenandwasfoundburiedintheheartofthesixty—eighth，atriflediscolored，butstillapearl，andworthaking’sransom。"
Napoleongaveaderisivelaugh，andtheotherguestssatwithincredulitydepicteduponeverylineoftheirfaces。
"Doyoubelievethatstoryyourself，Baron？"askedConfucius。
"Whynot？"askedtheBaron。"Isthereanythingimprobableinit？
Whyshouldyoudisbelieveit？LookatourfriendWashingtonhere。
Isthereanyoneherewhoknowsmoreabouttruththanhedoes？Hedoesn’tdisbelieveit。He’stheonlymanatthistablewhotreatsmelikeamanofhonor。"
"He’shostandhasto，"saidJohnson，shrugginghisshoulders。
"Well，Washington，letmeputthedirectquestiontoyou，"saidtheBaron。"Sayyouaren’thostandareundernoobligationtobecourteous。DoyoubelieveIhaven’tbeentellingthetruth？"
"MydearMunchausen，"saidtheGeneral，"don’taskme。I’mnotanauthority。Ican’ttellalie——notevenwhenIhearone。Ifyousayyourstoryistrue，Imustbelieveit，ofcourse；but——ah——really，ifIwereyou，Iwouldn’ttellitagainunlessIcouldproducethepearlandthewish—boneofoneoftheducksatleast。"
Whereupon，asthediscussionwasbeginningtogrowacrimonious，WashingtonhailedCharon，and，orderingaboat，invitedhisgueststoaccompanyhimoverintotheworldofrealities，wheretheypassedthebalanceoftheeveninghauntingavaudevilleperformanceatoneoftheLondonmusic—halls。
CHAPTERIV：HAMLETMAKESASUGGESTION
ItwasabeautifulnightontheStyx，andthesilverysurfaceofthatpicturesquestreamwasdottedwithgondolas，canoes，andothercrafttoanextentthatmadeCharonfeellikeahighlyprosperoussavings—
bank。Withinthehouse—boatweregatheredamerryparty，someofwhomwereonmerepleasurebent，othersofwhomhadcometolistentoadebate，forwhichtheentertainmentcommitteehadprovided，betweenthevenerablepatriarchNoahandthelateeminentshowmanP。T。
Barnum。Thequestiontobedebatedwasupontheresolutionpassedbythecommittee，that"TheAnimalsoftheAntediluvianPeriodwereFarMoreAttractiveforShowPurposesthanthoseofModernMake，"and，singulartorelate，theaffirmativewasplacedinthehandsofMr。
Barnum，whiletoNoahhadfallenthetaskofupholdingthevirtuesofthemodernfreak。Itiswiththepartyonmerepleasurebentthatwehavetodouponthisoccasion。Theproceedingsofthedebating—partyareasyetinthehandsoftheofficialstenographer，butwillbemadepublicassoonastheyareready。
Thepleasure—seekinggroupweregatheredinthesmoking—roomoftheclub，whichwas，indeed，asmoking—roomofanovelsort，theinventionofanunknownshade，whohadsoldalltherightstotheclubthroughathirdparty，anonymously，preferring，itseemed，toremainintheElysianworld，ashehadbeeninthemundanesphere，amuteingloriousEdison。Itwasasimpleenoughscheme，and，forawonder，nooneintheworldofsubstantialitieshasthoughttotakeitup。Thesmokewasstoredinreservoirs，justasifitweresomuchgasorwater，andwassuppliedonthehot—airfurnaceprinciplefromahugefurnaceintheholdofthehouse—boat，intowhichtobaccowasshovelledbythehiredmanoftheclubnightandday。Thesmokefromthefurnace，carriedthroughfluestothesmoking—room，wastherereceivedandstoredinthereservoirs，witheachofwhichwasconnectedonedozenrubbertubes，havingattheirendsambermouth—
pieces。Uponeachofthesemouth—pieceswasarrangedasmallmeterregisteringtheamountofsmokeconsumedthroughit，andforthistheconsumerpaidsomuchafoot。Thevalueoftheplanwasthreefold。
Itdidawayentirelywithashes，itsavedtotheconsumersthevalueoftheunconsumedtobaccothatisrepresentedbytheunsmokedcigarends，anditavertedthepossibilityofcigarettes。
EnjoyingthebenefitsofthisarrangementupontheeveninginquestionwereShakespeare，Cicero，HenryVIII。，DoctorJohnson，andothers。OfcourseBoswellwaspresenttoo，foramoment，withhisnote—book，andthisfactevokedsomecriticismfromseveralofthesmokers。
"Yououghttobeup—stairsinthelecture—room，Boswell，"saidShakespeare，asthegreatbiographertookhisseatbehindhisfriendtheDoctor。"Doesn’ttheGossipwantareportofthedebate？"
"Itdoes，"saidBoswell；"buttheGossipendeavorsalwaystogetthemostinterestingitemsoftheday，andDoctorJohnsonhasinformedmethatheexpectstobeunusuallywittythisevening，soIhavecomehere。"
"Excusemeforsayingit，Boswell，"saidtheDoctor，gettingredinthefaceoverthisunexpectedconfession，"but，really，youtalktoomuch。"
"That’sgood，"saidCicero。"Stickthatdown，Boz，andprintit。
It’sthebestthingJohnsonhassaidthisweek。"
Boswellsmiledweakly，andsaid："But，Doctor，youdidsaythat，youknow。Icanproveit，too，foryoutoldmesomeofthethingsyouweregoingtosay。Don’tyouremember，youweregoingtoleadShakespeareuptomakingtheremarkthathethoughttheEnglishlanguagewasthegreatestlanguageincreation，whereuponyouweregoingtoaskhimwhyhedidn’tlearnit？"
"Getoutofhere，youidiot!"roaredtheDoctor。"You’reenoughtogiveamanapoplexy。"
"You’renotgoingbackontheladderbywhichyouhaveclimbed，areyou，Samuel？"queriedBoswell，earnestly。
"Thewha—a—t？"criedtheDoctor，angrily。"Theladder——onwhichI
climbed？You？Greatheavens!Thatitshouldcometothis!……
Leavetheroom——instantly!Ladder!Byallthatisbeautiful——theladderuponwhichI，SamuelJohnson，thetallestpersoninletters，haveclimbed!Go!Doyouhear？"
Boswellrosemeekly，and，withtearscoursingdownhischeeks，lefttheroom。
"That’soneonyou，Doctor，"saidCicero，wrappinghistogaabouthim。"Ithinkyououghttoorderupthreebasketsofchampagneonthat。"
"I’llorderupthreebasketsfullofBoswell’sremainsifheeverdaresspeaklikethatagain!"retortedtheDoctor，shakingwithanger。"He——myladder——why，it’sridiculous。"
"Yes，"saidShakespeare，dryly。"That’swhywelaugh。"
"Youwerealittlehardonhim，Doctor，"saidHenryVIII。"Hewasavaluablemantoyou。Hehadagreateyeforyourgreatness。"
"Yes。Ifthere’sanyfeatureofBoswellthat’sgreaterthanhisnoseandears，it’shisgreatI，"saidtheDoctor。
"You’dratherhavehimchangehisItoaU，Ipresume，"saidNapoleon，quietly。
TheDoctorwavedhishandimpatiently。"Let’sdrophim，"hesaid。
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