bbers. I had, indeed, invented a pleasantry for the
festival of the god of laughter! The townspeople laughed with the
inextinguishable laughter of the Olympian deities. They climbed up to
the roof to get a good look at me; they swarmed up the pillars; they
clung to the statues; they hung from the windows at the risk of their
lives; all shouting at me in wild jollity.

"Sir Lucius," the magistrate then said to me, "we are not ignorant of
your dignity and your rank. The noble family to which you belong is
famous throughout Greece. So do not take this pleasantry in honour of
the joyful god of laughter as an insult. In return for your excellent
services at this great festival, the city of Hypata has decreed that
your statue shall be cast in bronze and erected in a place of honour."

By this time I had recovered somewhat of my good humour. But knowing how
mercilessly I should be teased at the banquet Byrrhena wished to give in
celebration of my exploits, I went quickly home with Milo, and after
supping with him, retired at a very early hour to my bed-chamber.

_III.--Lucius Becomes an Ass_

In the middle of the night I heard a knock at my door. I opened it, and
in came pretty Fotis, looking a picture of misery.

"I can't sleep without telling you everything," she said. "I was the
cause of all the trouble that befell you to-day. As my mistress was
coming from the baths yesterday, she saw a handsome young gentleman
having his hair cut by a barber. Seized with a wild passion for him, she
ordered me to get some of his hair. But the barber saw me and drove me
away. I knew I should get a cruel whipping if I returned empty-handed.
Close by was a man shaving some wine-bags of goat-skin; the hair was
soft and yellow like the young gentleman's, so I took some of it to
Pamphila. You know my mistress is a terrible witch, so you can guess
what happened. She rose up in the night, and burnt the hair in her magic
cauldron. As it burnt, the wine-bags from which it was taken felt the
compulsion of the spell. They became like human beings. Rushing out into
the street, they hurled themselves against the door of our house, as
Pamphila expected the young gentleman would do. You came up--just a
little intoxicated, eh?--and committed the horrible crime of
bag-slaughter."

"Now, don't make fun of me, Fotis," I said. "This is a serious matter,
this witchcraft. What is Pamphila doing to-night? I have come here to
learn magic, and I am very a