ove we get up a petition to the council to have it," said
Dryden.

"I agree," said Confucius, "and I'll sign it. If there's one way to
avoid having ladies' day in the future, it's to have one now and be done
with it."

"All right," said Shakespeare. "I'll sign too."

"As--er--Shixpur or Shikespeare?" queried Johnson.

"Let him alone," said Raleigh. "He's getting sensitive about that; and
what you need to learn more than anything else is that it isn't manners
to twit a man on facts. What's bothering you, Dryden? You look like a
man with an idea."

"It has just occurred to me," said Dryden, "that while we can safely
leave the question of Henry the Eighth and his wives to the wisdom of the
council, we ought to pay some attention to the advisability of inviting
Lucretia Borgia. I'd hate to eat any supper if she came within a mile of
the banqueting-hall. If she comes you'll have to appoint a tasting
committee before I'll touch a drop of punch or eat a speck of salad."

"We might recommend the appointment of Raleigh to look after the fair
Lucretia and see that she has no poison with her, or if she has, to keep
her from dropping it into the salads," said Confucius, with a sidelong
glance at Raleigh. "He's the especial champion of woman in this club,
and no doubt would be proud of the distinction."

"I would with most women," said Raleigh. "But I draw the line at
Lucretia Borgia."

And so a petition was drawn up, signed, and sent to the council, and
they, after mature deliberation, decided to have the ladies' day, to
which all the ladies in Hades, excepting Lucretia Borgia and Delilah,
were to be duly invited, only the date was not specified. Delilah was
excluded at the request of Samson, whose convincing muscles, rather than
his arguments, completely won over all opposition to his proposition.

CHAPTER VIII: A DISCONTENTED SHADE

"It seems to me," said Shakespeare, wearily, one afternoon at the
club--"that this business of being immortal is pretty dull. Didn't
somebody once say he'd rather ride fifty years on a trolley in Europe
than on a bicycle in Cathay?"

"I never heard any such remark by any self-respecting person," said
Johnson.

"I said something like it," observed Tennyson.

Doctor Johnson looked around to see who it was that spoke.

"You?" he cried. "And who, pray, may you be?"

"My name is Tennyson," replied the poet.

"And a very good name it is," said Shakespeare.

"I am no