l get out your red coat."

"I am a literary man," I said.

"Ah!" he observed, lifting his eyebrows. "Then, of course, you won't
mind wearing these."

And he hauled forth a pair of black-and-white trousers with checks as
large as the squares of a chessboard, a blue cloth vest with white
polka dots, and a long, gray Prince Albert coat, with mauve satin
lapels. The shirt was pink and blue, stripes of each alternating,
running cross-ways, a white collar, and a flaring red four-in-hand
tie!

"Great Scott, Adonis!" I cried. "Must I wear those?"

"You're under no compulsion to do so," said he. "But I thought you
said you were a literary man."

"Well?"

"Well--literary men never care what they wear so long as they attract
attention, do they?"

I laughed. "We are not all built that way, Adonis," said I. "Some of
us are modest and have a little taste."

"Well, it's news to me," said he. "I guess it must be among the minor
lights."

"It is--generally," said I. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather wear
the golf clothes."

And I did.

V

The Olympian Links

"There," said Adonis, as he put the finishing touch to my costume.
"You look like a champion. Do you play golf, sir?"

"There's a difference of opinion about that, Adonis," I replied, my
mind reverting to the number of handicap matches I hadn't won. "Some
people who have observed my game say I don't. Have you links here?"

"Have we links?" he cried. "Well, rather. They're said to be the best
in the universe."

"And are they handy?"

"Very--in the season."

"I don't quite catch the idea," I said.

"Oh, sometimes the course is nearer than it is at others. Come here a
minute," he said, "and I'll point it out to you."

He drew me to the wonderful window of which I have already spoken, and
through the powerful glass pointed in the direction of Mars.

"See that?" he said.

"Yes," I replied. "That is Mars."

"Exactly," said Adonis. "Mars is the Olympian links. His distance from
here varies, as you are probably aware. When Mars is near aphelion he
is 61,800,000 miles away, but in his perihelion he gets it down to
33,800,000. That's why we have our golf season while Mars is in his
perihelion. It saves us 28,000,000 miles in getting there."

I laughed. "You call that handy, do you?" I said.

"Why not?" he asked. "It's a matter of five minutes on a bike, ten
minutes in the automobile, and twenty minutes if you walk."

"Of course, Adonis," said I,