he revel, in the most
approved form.

But he was not allowed to get to the end of this evidence of his skill,
for Euphorion the door-keeper of the palace, Euphorion the father of
Pollux, ran hastily into the hall of the Muses with a letter in his hand
which he gave to the architect.

"To be read without an instant's delay," he added, bowing with
theatrical dignity to the assembled artists. "One of the prefect's
lictors brought this letter, which, if my wishes be granted, brings
nothing that is unwelcome. Hold your noise you little blackguards or I
will be the death of you."

These words, which so far as the tone was concerned, formed a somewhat
inharmonious termination to a speech intended for the ears of great
artists, were addressed to his wife's four-footed Graces who had
followed him against his wish, and were leaping round the table barking
for the slender remains of the consumed food.

Pontius was fond of animals and had made friends with the old woman's
pets, so, as he opened the prefect's letter, he said:

"I invite the three little guests to the remains of our feast. Give them
anything that is fit for them, Euphorion, and whatever seems to you most
suitable to your own stomach you may put into it."

While the architect first rapidly glanced through the letter and then
read it carefully, the singer had collected a variety of good morsels
for his wife's favorites on a plate, and finally carried the last
remaining pasty, with the dish on which it reposed, to the vicinity of
his own hooked nose.

"For men or for dogs?" he asked his son, as he pointed to it with a
rigid finger.

"For the gods!" replied Pollux. "Take it to mother; she will like to eat
ambrosia for once."

"A jolly evening to you!" cried the singer, bowing to the artists who
were emptying their cups, and he quitted the hall with his pasty and his
dogs. Before he had fairly left the hall with his long strides, Papias,
whose speech had been interrupted, once more raised his wine-cup and
began again:

"Our Deucalion, our more than Deucalion--"

"Pardon me," interrupted Pontius. "If I once more stop your discourse
which began so promisingly; this letter contains important news and our
revels must be over for the night. We must postpone our symposium and
your drinking-speech."

"It was not a drinking-speech, for if ever there was a moderate man--"
Papias began. But Pontius stopped him again, saying:

"Titianus writes me word that he propo