ording to my simple bringing up, suggested the idea
that it was a good thing to wear at the morning meal.

"They ought to send me a valet," I murmured. "Perhaps they will if I
ring for one. Where the deuce is the bell, I wonder?"

A search of the room soon divulged the resting-place of this desirable
adjunct to the tourist's comfort. The dial system which has proved so
successful in American hotels was in vogue here, except that it
manifested a willingness on the part of the proprietor to provide the
guest with a range of articles utterly beyond anything to be found in
the purely mundane caravansary. I found that anything under the canopy
that the mind of man could conceive of could be had by the mere
pushing of a button. The disk of the electrical apparatus was divided
off into many sections, calling respectively for saddle-horses,
symphony concerts, ocean steamships, bath-towels, stenographers;
cocktails of all sorts, and some sorts of which I had never before
heard, and all of which I resolved to try in discreet sequence;
manicures, chiropodists, astrologers, prophets, clergymen of all
denominations, plots for novelists--indeed, anything that any person
in any station of life might chance to desire could be got for the
ringing.

My immediate need, however, was for a valet. Puzzled as to the manners
and customs of the gods, I did not wish to make a bad appearance in
the dining-room in a costume which should not be appropriate. I did
think of ordering breakfast served in my room, but that seemed a very
mortal and not a particularly godlike thing to do. Hence, I rang for a
valet.

[Illustration: "ANYTHING COULD BE GOT FOR THE RINGING"]

"I will tell him to get out my morning-suit, and no doubt he will
select the thing I ought to wear," I said as I pressed the button.

The response was instant. My fingers had hardly left the button when a
superb creature stood before me. Whence he sprang I do not know. There
were no opening of doors, no traps or false panels, that I could see.
The individual simply materialized.

"At your service, sir," said he, with a graceful obeisance.

"Pardon me," I replied, overcome once more by what was going on.
"I--ah--think there must be some mistake. I--ah--I didn't ring for a
god, I rang for a valet."

"I am the valet of Olympus, sir," he replied, gracefully flicking a
speck of dust from the calf of his leg, the contour of which was
beautiful to look upon, clad in superbly fitting