|
| BRANCH OFFICE |
| 67 Gehenna Ave., Hades |
+----------------------------------+

"Dear me!" I cried. "Poor Love!"

"I don't need your sympathy," said the boy, quickly, drawing himself
up proudly. "It can't last, this competition. Man and god kind will
soon see the difference in the permanence of our respective output.
This is only a temporary success they are having, and it often happens
that the spurious articles put forth by Mammon & Company are brought
over to me to be repaired. My sun will dawn again. You can't put out
the fires in my furnaces as long as men and women are made from the
old receipt."

Here the elevator stopped, and a rather attractive young woman
appeared at the door.

"Here is where you get out, sir," said the elevator boy.

"You are Mr.----" began the girl.

"I am," I replied.

"I have orders to show you to number 609," she said. "The proprietor
will see you to-morrow at eleven."

"Thank you very much," I replied, somewhat overcome by the cordiality
of my reception. It is not often that mere beggars are so hospitably
received.

"Good-night, Cupid," I added, turning to the little chap in the
elevator. "I trust we shall meet again."

"Oh, I guess we will," he replied, with a wink at the maid. "I
generally do meet most men two or three times in their lives. So _au
revoir_ to you. Treat the gentleman well, Hebe," he concluded, pulling
the rope to send the elevator back. "He doesn't know much, but he is
sympathetic."

"I will, Danny, for your sake," said the little maid, archly.

The boy laughed and the car faded from sight. Hebe, even more lovely
than has been claimed, with a charmingly demure glance at my costume,
which was wofully bedraggled and wet, said:

"This way, sir. I will have your luggage sent to your room at once."

"But I haven't any luggage, my dear," said I. "I have only what is on
my back."

"Ah, but you have," she replied, sweetly. "The proprietor has attended
to that. There are five trunks, a hat-box, and a Gladstone bag already
on their way up."

And with this she showed me into a magnificent apartment, and, even
as she had said, within five minutes my luggage arrived, a valet
appeared, unpacked the trunks and bag, brushed off the hat that had
lain in the hat-box, and vanished, leaving me to my own reflections.

Surely Olympus was a great place, where one who appeared in the guise
of a beggar was t