his hold. As it is, he has ignored all these people
officially, treats them like criminals personally; makes friends with
Mazarin and Powhatan, awards the office of Tax Assessor to Dick Turpin,
and makes old Falstaff commander of his Imperial Guard. And just because
poor Ben Jonson scribbled off a rhyme for my paper, The Gazette--a rhyme
running:

Mazarin And Powhatan,
Turpin and Falstaff,
Form, you bet, A cabinet
To make a donkey laugh.

Mazarin And Powhatan
Run Apollyon's state.
The Dick and Jacks Collect the tax--
The people pay the freight.

--just because Jonson wrote that and I published it, my paper was
confiscated, Jonson was boiled in oil for ten weeks, and I was seized
and thrown into a dungeon where a lot of savages from the South Sea
Islands tattooed the darned old jingle between my shoulder blades in
green letters, and not satisfied with this barbaric act, right under
the jingle they added the line, in red letters, 'This edition strictly
limited to one copy, for private circulation only,' and they every one
of 'em, Apollyon, Mazarin, and the rest, signed the guarantee personally
with red-hot pens dipped in sulphuric acid. It makes a valuable
collection of autographs, no doubt, but I prefer my back as nature made
it. Talk about enlightened government under a man who'll permit things
like that to be done!"

I ought not to have done it, but I couldn't help smiling.

"I must say," I observed, apologetically, "that the treatment was
barbarous, but really I do think it showed a sense of humor on the part
of the government."

"No doubt," replied Boswell, with a sigh; "but when the joke is on me I
don't enjoy it very much. I'm only human, and should prefer to observe
that the government had some sense of justice."

The apparently empty chair before the machine gave a slight hitch
forward, and the type-writer began to tap again.

"You'll have to excuse me now," observed Boswell through the usual
medium. "I have work to do, and if you'll go to bed like a good fellow,
while I copy off the minutes of the last meeting of the Authors' Club,
I'll see that you don't lose anything by it. After I get the minutes
done I have an interesting story for my Sunday paper from the advance
sheets of Munchausen's Further Recollections, which I shall take great
pleasure in leaving for you when I depart. If you will take the bundle
of manuscript I leave with you and boil i