teemed serpents have always helped me when
I've prayed to them for success in my running and wrestling and
hunting, and it was through their distinguished intercession that the
bees were not able to hurt me with their stings. It would be black
ingratitude, to turn against their worship at the very outset of my
reign. I hate you for suggesting it.'

"The Chamberlain wrung his hands despairingly.

"'But, your Majesty,' he wailed, 'the people are reverencing you as a
saint, and the nobles are being Christianized in batches, and
neighbouring potentates of that Faith are sending special envoys to
welcome you as a brother. There is some talk of making you the patron
saint of beehives, and a certain shade of honey-yellow has been
christened Vespaluusian gold at the Emperor's Court. You can't surely
go back on all this.'

"'I don't mind being reverenced and greeted and honoured,' said
Vespaluus; 'I don't even mind being sainted in moderation, as long as
I'm not expected to be saintly as well. But I wish you clearly and
finally to understand that I will NOT give up the worship of the august
and auspicious serpents.'

"There was a world of unspoken bear-pit in the way he uttered those
last words, and the mulberry-dark eyes flashed dangerously.

"'A new reign,' said the Chamberlain to himself, 'but the same old
temper.'

"Finally, as a State necessity, the matter of the religions was
compromised. At stated intervals the king appeared before his subjects
in the national cathedral in the character of St. Vespaluus, and the
idolatrous grove was gradually pruned and lopped away till nothing
remained of it. But the sacred and esteemed serpents were removed to a
private shrubbery in the royal gardens, where Vespaluus the Pagan and
certain members of his household devoutly and decently worshipped them.
That possibly is the reason why the boy-king's success in sports and
hunting never deserted him to the end of his days, and that is also the
reason why, in spite of the popular veneration for his sanctity, he
never received official canonization."

"It has stopped raining," said the Baroness.

THE WAY TO THE DAIRY

The Baroness and Clovis sat in a much-frequented corner of the Park
exchanging biographical confidences about the long succession of
passers-by.

"Who are those depressed-looking young women who have just gone by?"
asked the Baroness; "they have the air of people who have bowed to
destiny and are not