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。