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ainter to "run up" this temple, because we found the ruins draughty, we haven't touched a thing. JUP. Oh story teller. AP. Oh story teller. MARS. Oh story teller. [Enter thespians] THES. My dear fellows, you're distressing yourselves unnecessarily. The court of Olympus is about to assemble to listen to the complaints of the year, if any. But there are none, or next to none. Let the Olympians assemble. [Thespis takes chair. JUP., AP., and MARS sit below him. Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that it is usual for the gods to assemble once a year to listen to mortal petitions. It doesn't seem to me to be a good plan, as work is liable to accumulate; but as I am particularly anxious not to interfere with Olympian precedent, but to allow everything to go on as it has always been accustomed to go--why, we'll say no more about it. [aside] But how shall I account for your presence? JUP. Say we are the gentlemen of the press. THES. That all our proceedings may be perfectly open and above- board I have communicated with the most influential members of the Athenian press, and I beg to introduce to your notice three of its most distinguished members. They bear marks emblematic of the anonymous character of modern journalism. [Business of introduction. Thespis is very uneasy] Now then, if you're all ready we will begin. MER. [brings tremendous bundle of petitions] Here is the agenda. THES. What's that? The petitions? MER. Some of them. [opens one and reads] Ah, I thought there'd be a row about it. THES. Why, what's wrong now? MER. Why, it's been a foggy Friday in November for the last six months and the Athenians are tired of it. THES. There's no pleasing some people. This craving for perpetual change is the curse of the country. Friday's a very nice day. MER. So it is, but a Friday six months long.--it gets monotonous. JUP, AP, MARS. [rising] It's perfectly ridiculous. THES. [calling them] Cymon. CYM. [as time with the usual attributes] Sir. THES. [Introducing him to the three gods] Allow me--Father Time-- rather young at present but even time must have a beginning. In course of time, time will grow older. Now then, Father Time, what's this about a wet Friday in November for the last six months. CYM. Well, the fact is, I've been trying an experiment. Seven days in the week is an awkward num
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