Class ( JSSfP.T 
 
 i 
 CDE^RIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
®If^ ^tmt (Untnttat 
 
 MORE OR LESS A VITAL SATIRE 
 
 BY 
 PERCIVAL W. WELLS 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 LILIES OF .THE VALLEY, THE MARTYR's RETURN 
 THE SON OF MAN, ETC. 
 
 WANTAGH, NEW YORK 
 
 BARTLETT PUBUSHING COMPANY 
 
 1916 
 

 G>pynght, 19 16 
 
 by 
 
 Bortlett Publishing Co. 
 
 « 
 
 
 SEP -9 1916 
 
 CI.A437617 
 f 
 
 "Ko 
 
l 
 
 9 
 ID 
 
 ^ CONTENTS 
 
 P 
 
 \9 Page 
 Foretaste 7 
 
 Chapter I The Descent to the Circuses . . 13 
 
 II Circus Maximus 
 
 OR, The Biggest Circus . . . . 21 
 
 III Circus Stultus 
 
 OR, The Silly Circus 36 
 
 IV Circus Glacialis 
 
 or. The Icy Circus . . . .65 
 
 V Circus Pluvialis 
 
 or. The Rainy Circus 88 
 
 VI Circus Classicus 
 
 OR, The Classy Club 130 
 
 VII Circus Pyrotechnalis 
 
 OR, The Fiery Circus 159 
 
 VIII Circus Horribilimus 
 
 or, The Circle of Horrors . . .211 
 
FORETASTE 
 
 JAMES CONKLIN had studied 
 ^ Demonology for years. It was more 
 than a hobby with him — his favorite pur- 
 suit. Not having had the privilege of 
 taking a thorough course in Theology 
 when he was a young man, he made up 
 for this lack by reading all the books he 
 could find on the subject of Hell and its 
 keeper. There was not even a pamphlet 
 in existence which he did not eagerly 
 peruse in the hope of adding to his 
 knowledge of the subject. 
 
 Homer he knew by heart, as well as 
 the sixth book of Vergil, and Dante's 
 Inferno. Milton's Paradise Lost, in 
 spite of its many crudenesses, stuffing, 
 patches and strange mixtures, had long 
 been as familiar to him as his ABC. 
 He studied the Bible every day in the 
 hope of coming across something new 
 about Satan and his wicked elements. 
 
He even plowed through the early 
 church fathers and the later sons, both 
 natural and unnatural, whenever he 
 could summon the courage. It seemed 
 to him, as indeed it has seemed to many 
 better men than he, that he could some 
 day learn the whole truth by reading; 
 but in this he was sadly mistaken. The 
 more printed matter he studied, the 
 farther away he went from the solution 
 of his problems, until at last in his 
 flashes of sanity he prayed to be deliv- 
 ered from his madness, yea even to be 
 borne ofif by the Evil One to the final 
 home below. James Conklin was verily 
 possessed of a devil, though he realized 
 it not. 
 
 It happened one late afternoon in 
 November, when the days grow quickly 
 short, that he struck a sulphur match in 
 order to light the gas. The elements 
 set free by the ignition ascended into his 
 nostrils and almost strangled him. 
 
 "The Devil!" he cried with a loud 
 voice. 
 
Suddenly the room became filled with 
 a greenish light; the odor of brimstone 
 grew stronger and stronger, until it 
 choked out what little air was left in 
 Conklin's lungs. He gasped for breath, 
 and sank weakly into the nearest chair. 
 Immediately the Devil stood before 
 him. 
 
 "What under the earth do you want 
 with me?" the fearful visitor demanded, 
 stroking his lips with the end of his tail. 
 
 Conklin did not lack nerve. He saw 
 in a second the chance he had sought 
 his whole life-time. He coughed some 
 of the sulphur out of his bronchials, 
 stuttered, and then found his voice. 
 
 "You are a hell of a man to disturb 
 an innocent person thus in his own dom- 
 icile!" he rudely exclaimed. He imag- 
 ined he could intimidate. 
 
 "Not on your sweet life!" the Devil 
 replied. "I have had experience before 
 with innocent people, who summoned 
 me in somewhat the same manner that 
 you employed, only to deny their pur- 
 
poses after it was too late. I am the 
 Deuce. Here is my card" — and he 
 handed a two-spot of hearts to Conklin. 
 
 As the latter's fingers touched it, the 
 card burst into flames and was consumed 
 in an instant. The Devil watched with 
 curling lips as the man drew back, pale 
 from fright; he was disappointed, how- 
 ever, if he thought that Conklin would 
 plead for mercy. 
 
 ^^I perceive plainly that what they 
 have written about you has not all been 
 a pack of lies," said James calmly, after 
 swallowing two or three times to restore 
 confidence, not to speak of spittle. "It 
 is a pleasure to see you, I am sure. Will 
 not your satanic majesty have a chair?" 
 
 The Devil smiled approvingly, and 
 took the proffered seat. "You are a cool 
 one," he remarked, pulling a long cigar 
 out of his vest pocket and lighting it 
 with a breath. "Won't you smoke?" 
 
 "Why — ye-s, at least a cigar, thank 
 you." 
 
 "A-hem! I feel strangely drawn 
 
 xo 
 
toward you, I must confess. You re- 
 mind me a lot of Deacon Dowling. He 
 was a corker. Why, it took me twenty 
 years to get him. We had a little bar- 
 gain that he was to come with me at the 
 end of ten; but he continually put me 
 off with one excuse or another, until 
 finally I had to take him by surprise. 
 You should have seen him fume when 
 he got to hell ! He was a hypocrite, and 
 tried to hide under the mantle of the 
 church, — but we found him all right, 
 ha ha! You are a straightforward man, 
 on the contrary, and have never molested 
 anybody. You are outside of my pale. 
 I have no power over you. Tell me 
 frankly what you want with me." 
 
 ^^Now you are talking, Satan. I'll 
 come right to the point. Can you take 
 me to hell for a short visit, and show me 
 around — over the whole plant? I have 
 read much about you, and according to 
 most reports you are considered an 
 affable chap." 
 
 ^'Well, seeing that it is you, brother 
 
 II 
 
Conklin," replied Satan grimly, "I'll 
 make an exception in your case, if you 
 are determined. Nevertheless, I will 
 not be responsible for any damages in 
 case of fire. We issue no insurance pol- 
 icies, you understand. You will have to 
 run your own risks. All I can do is to 
 give you one of our asbestos visitor suits 
 and warn our imps not to harass you." 
 
 "Well, that is very kind of you," said 
 Mr. Conklin enthusiastically. "When 
 will it be most convenient for you to call 
 for me?" 
 
 "Tomorrow night at twelve. You 
 will be as welcome as the many prom- 
 inent men who have been received be- 
 fore you, some of whom had no return 
 coupon. Have no fear for yourself, 
 however, Mr. Conklin: the fates are 
 with you. Good-night." 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 The Descent 
 
 A T the appointed hour the Devil 
 •^^ appeared at the home of Mr. Con- 
 klin, announced as before by green light 
 and brimstone fumes. He took his dar- 
 ing guest gently under his mantle, and 
 whirled away through the air, invisible 
 to human eyes, at a horrid rate. At 
 length they arrived at the summit of a 
 high mountain, crowned with an im- 
 mense crater, into which Satan sped like 
 a meteor; and, coming to a sudden stop 
 within, he dropped his breathless burden 
 and placed him upon his feet. 
 
 They were in a large room furnished 
 and decorated in the modern style, quite 
 similar to the appointment of the wait- 
 ing-room in a big department store — 
 Greenhat's, Geordan and Arsh's, or 
 Wan Maker's. 
 
 X3 
 
^'You must register here," said the 
 Devil, pointing to a writing table on 
 which lay a guest-book. ^^Just burn 
 your name at the top of the next page, 
 and then we will rest a while before 
 going below. This is our top-floor office, 
 recently remodeled by the owner of one 
 of our great Ne Ork stores ; I like his 
 work: I gave him a vacation of a week 
 for doing it. Perhaps you may meet 
 him downstairs. 
 
 "I was so much pleased with the tall 
 sky-scrapers of Ne Ork, because they 
 bring me an immense patronage, that I 
 had this building put up. Our patrons 
 appreciate it. There is not the least 
 difficulty in heating it, even in severe 
 weather. We use the lower floors as 
 overflow furnaces, with sound-proof 
 partitions between, in order that the 
 inmates won't disturb each other with 
 their yells. You see, we keep up to 
 date; otherwise there would be no fun 
 in this business. It is kind of hard to 
 change over the old things, to be sure; 
 
but then — we have plenty of skilled 
 labor. 
 
 'When you are ready, Mr. Conklin, 
 we shall take the 'elevator. You will 
 be surprised to see whom we have for 
 an 'elevator boy. Everything has to 
 change with the times. There is little 
 real poetry abroad nowadays, on account 
 of its being a mechanical age; and we 
 must keep pace. We rarely receive 
 visits from poets here, though there are 
 lots of bad poetasters down stairs being 
 corrected by Bald Spitman, one of our 
 chief torturer trusties. Come along, 
 and don't be afraid." 
 
 They walked arm in arm through the 
 beautiful hall to the 'elevator door, 
 where Satan pressed the button seven 
 times. 
 
 ''The boy just took a load down to 
 the lowest circus," he explained with a 
 smile, "but he is nearly up here by this 
 time. He is very slow, as one might 
 expect of a boy of his years. Let us look 
 at the mottoes while we are waiting." 
 
 IS 
 
He pointed first to a large sign which 
 hung over the 'elevator door. It read : 
 
 ^XEAVE ALL PITY BEHIND." 
 
 ^^Revised version," chuckled his maj- 
 esty. "We shorten the corners whenever 
 we can. Perhaps Dante would not 
 approve of it. How things have 
 altered since he and the Mantuan poet 
 descended through the Italian woods! 
 Our methods now are much less poet- 
 ical, yet they do fairly well. What 
 stock do Mellicans put in grandiose 
 verse? They are more versed in watery 
 stock. That old Italian road is used 
 still as a back passage; the dynamiters 
 and other destructive persons are thrown 
 down through there, since we are 
 afraid that they might blow up our 
 lovely new quarters; we show them no 
 quarter, ha ha! Look at the sign yonder 
 to the left— ^DO NOT PLAY WITH 
 FIRE!' Do you not think it appropri- 
 ate? Well, here comes the boy." 
 
 At the end of an hour, which seemed 
 
 x6 
 
an eternity to Conklin, the 'elevator 
 came up with a mighty rush of hot air, 
 which blew through the cracks in the 
 door with such force that it knocked 
 Conklin ofif his feet and singed his eye- 
 brows. 
 
 ^^Hell-o!" cried Satan as he helped 
 him rise. "I forgot to paint you with 
 our fire-proof liquid and give you an 
 asbestos coat. It is best to do it now. 
 Follow me into the actors' dressing- 
 
 room." 
 
 Conklin did so; and in a few minutes 
 he reappeared rigged out in a white coat 
 that put Mark Twain's to shame. On 
 the top of the hood, which, fortunately, 
 he could not see, were a couple of small 
 horns — symbols of cuckoldry. 
 
 "Fire away, Satan," he said, "and 
 show us what you have." 
 
 The 'elevator door was opened cau- 
 tiously, and a weazened old face, which 
 seemed to be a relic of the flood, was 
 thrust out. Hot flames wheeled round 
 the eyes; a fetid breath issued from the 
 
 17 
 
toothless mouth, almost overcoming 
 Conklin a second time. Then, when the 
 mechanician perceived who had called, 
 he swung wide the door, and in a cring- 
 ing manner begged his master's pardon. 
 
 "All right this time, old boy," said 
 Satan with an imperious gesture, "but 
 watch out that it does not happen again. 
 Haven't I told you over and over again 
 that whenever I ring seven times you 
 are to take charcoal tablets, even if they 
 do hurt your stomach, and ascend at top 
 speed? When did you shave last?" 
 
 "Early this morning, Sir." 
 
 "That is right. I hope you used anti- 
 septics?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir." 
 
 "Mr. Conklin, allow me to present to 
 you my old friend Charon. He is still 
 in the business — exporting spirits, and 
 though a bit antiquated he will learn. 
 He has certainly taken a fall out of Dr. 
 Hustler. Congratulate him on his new 
 uniform" — he whispered — "he is quite 
 proud of it." 
 
 i8 
 
"Which floor, Sir?" demanded the 
 old water-rat, now transformed into a 
 decent 'elevator-buoy. 
 
 "Hell in general," responded the 
 wicked One, sweeping his arm through 
 the air in a wide circle. "We wish to 
 show the whole thing, with the excep- 
 tion of one or two of our secret orders, 
 to Mr. Conklin. He may be able to do 
 some up-to-date advertising for us when 
 he gets back to the underworld on earth, 
 and say a good word for our special 
 bargain counters. Stop at the first cir- 
 cus, Charron, and go gently." 
 
 In spite of being carried down with 
 great consideration, according to Satan's 
 strict behest, Conklin could not endure 
 the awful speed of the dropping 'ele- 
 vator; it seemed that his stomach had 
 been left behind at the reception room, 
 and his head whirled dizzily; he lost 
 consciousness. Three hours later he 
 was awakened by a tremendous clap of 
 thunder on the left. Blinding lightning 
 flashes followed one another in swift 
 
 Z9 
 
succession, first white, then blue, then 
 green. The odor of brimstone mingled 
 with that of burning flesh was almost 
 suffocating. Above the din of thunder, 
 which came constantly, plainly rose to 
 the sickened ears of Conklin horrid 
 screams — the cries of the tortured: he 
 was in the first circle, the Circus Max- 
 imus ! 
 
 20 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The Circus Maximus 
 
 ••r\ON'Tbe alarmed, James," the Devil 
 whispered in his wounded ear, 
 "nothing may hurt you here. Perhaps I 
 had better put a pair of our new sound- 
 proof plugs — designed by a Ne Orker 
 just the other day — in your ears. You 
 will still be able to hear my voice with 
 perfect ease: nobody ever misses that! 
 Here you are— had 'em in my pocket 
 Handy thing to keep out too much sym- 
 pathy as well as noise: — you remember 
 our special maxim nailed over the 'ele- 
 vator door upstairs? Of course we 
 aristocrats are hardened to the little 
 complaints we run up against down 
 here. 
 
 "This is the great Circus, designed by 
 Brother Wite after the old Roman plan. 
 Wite has done a lot for me. Here 
 
dwell the HYPOCRITES! Listen— 
 ha! They are getting all that's coming 
 to them, take it from me. This entire 
 place is reserved especially for them, 
 and I think they appreciate their reser- 
 vation ; at least their shouts would denote 
 such." 
 
 "What are those numberless throngs 
 of spirits being chased through the 
 flames by others with three-tined pitch- 
 forks?" demanded Conklin, who by this 
 time had become somewhat accustomed 
 to his new surroundings and began to 
 take an active interest in all that was 
 going on. "Why, this is more entertain- 
 ing than the Hippodrome!" 
 
 "Yes, those are Presbyterians pursued 
 by Congregationalists. They are having 
 a bit of fun illustrating their creeds. 
 They seem to enjoy it, don't they? They 
 are having a hot time. It would take 
 too long to enumerate the names of all, 
 and besides I do not wish to create a 
 slander or start gossip, so you will 
 excuse me if I do not introduce you to 
 
 aa 
 
them personally. There is not a man or 
 woman here who did not do harm in the 
 world by hypocrisy; they are hardened 
 sinners, and we are trying hard to soften 
 their hearts. It takes years — ha! — cen- 
 turies to burn through the outer shell. 
 As soon as the pitchforks make the least 
 impression, we double the intensity of 
 the flames, thus spurring them on to 
 renewed efforts. It pays to follow them 
 up closely." 
 
 "Who are those just appearing round 
 the corner sticking single-pointed spears 
 into the backs of the Congregational- 
 ists?" 
 
 "They are Unitarians. Behind them 
 come the hypocrites who profess to be 
 Disciples, and in their rear run the 
 Methodists with hop, skip and a jump. 
 There they come now! It's a rare treat 
 to see them go. Only the first three 
 groups have spears — the rest run for 
 sport. There are more, but it would 
 take too long to enumerate them all, 
 since their name is Legion. I must 
 
 «3 
 
point out, however, the Baptists, who 
 quit the race once every day to take a 
 bath in boiling water; those Episco- 
 palians, whose apostolic succession never 
 gets out of line and to whom we have 
 lent protective soles for their feet in 
 order to keep them in good trim for the 
 special walking torture later : as a result, 
 they are extremely fast, and almost 
 outrun the flames — but not quite (to lay 
 hands on them would be an imposition) ; 
 and the Catholics, of whom we can ac- 
 commodate only half as much as we 
 should like (the other half are cast out 
 into eternal darkness), and who have a 
 separate playground just beyond. All 
 hypocrites who never did any good we 
 treat with triple heat and pitch head 
 first into lakes of burning tar as soon as 
 they have finished the second heat; they 
 are at the other end of the Circus. 
 
 "Sometimes we get tired of this racing 
 business, and then we have individual 
 combats, letting them toss up for 
 weapons — whether spears or nets, hot 
 
 24 
 
swords or shields, and so forth ad infin- 
 itum. We have no end of amusements. 
 Oh yes, they fight fiercely, Mr. Conklin; 
 we never have to urge them, for we pair 
 them off from different churches when 
 they get tired of scrapping among them- 
 selves. Then the next time we set the 
 Christians against the Infidels. By the 
 way, have you the right time?" 
 
 Conklin reached under his asbestos 
 coat and pulled out his Ingersoll. 
 
 ^^Quarter of twelve," he said. When 
 he tried to put back the watch, it slipped 
 from his nervous hand and fell blazing 
 to the ground, where it was entirely 
 consumed. 
 
 "Another Ingersoll gone to Hell," 
 said the Devil with a short laugh. "I 
 think we ought to be going. There is 
 nothing very interesting to see at the 
 present time. Only the hypocrites come 
 here, people who committed no very 
 grievous crime, but who did more harm 
 than good by intentional hypocrisy. At 
 the end of a thousand years we look 
 
 as 
 
them over thoroughly with the hope of 
 finding some who have repented, and if 
 we are successful in our archeological 
 researches we send them up to one of 
 the elementary planets for a new start; 
 the rest continue with the old treatment. 
 It is amazing how admantine shells 
 are softened under the electric blasts!" 
 Thus he spoke, and beckoned Conklin 
 towards the 'elevator. 
 
 "What are those great signs standing 
 around the Circus limits?" demanded 
 Mr. Conklin. "They look like adver- 
 tising signs. What do you do — advertise 
 the races and so forth when you have 
 special events?" 
 
 "Not at all, my dear sir. That would 
 do no good, because we have no trouble 
 in filling up the courses, and it would 
 be but a waste of time. Our advertise- 
 ments are done in a different manner, 
 and are almost entirely under the 
 management of Brother Mammon. 
 Those boards are optional courses: who- 
 ever wishes to drop out of line to study 
 
 26 
 
the boards are at liberty to do so; but 
 very few have ever taken advantage of 
 the opportunity. They prefer to race 
 the flames and forks. On the boards are 
 printed selections from the old church 
 fathers who mixed dead philosophy and 
 foolish speculation with superstitious 
 religion. They are too dry to burn — 
 so dusty that they put the fire right out. 
 Nobody ever stops to read them; if any 
 do, we suspect that something is radi- 
 cally wrong, perhaps that our treatments 
 are too severe, and we immediately send 
 them down to the Experimental Station 
 to be examined by experts." 
 
 ^^Are there none of the children of 
 Israel here, Satan?" 
 
 "Yes, yes! There are probably more 
 of them than of any other race in pro- 
 portion to their numbers. I do not 
 object to calling some of them out, if 
 you wish to speak to them personally. 
 They are so hardened that a little pub- 
 lication would do them no hurt." 
 
 His Majesty snapped his tail with a 
 
sudden jerk, and lo! the whole company, 
 millions of them, came to a sudden 
 standstill, turned respectfully toward 
 their master as if drawn by a magnet, 
 and gave him the military salute. 
 
 ''Bueno, chicosT' cried Satan, proud 
 of their showing. "Let Noah come 
 hither!" 
 
 A decrepit old Hebrew slouched for- 
 ward from a distant point after a wait 
 of forty or fifty minutes, and in three 
 hours came up to where they were 
 standing. 
 
 "Rather stiff around the joints, old 
 boy?" the Devil asked of him. 
 
 "Yes, father. I'm getting 'most too 
 aged to run around with the youngsters. 
 I should feel more at home on water." 
 
 "Blow some of that fire out of your 
 mouth, you silly child! Now don't talk 
 to me that way. What in the deuce did 
 you want to run away for, when the rain 
 was coming down, and leave all the 
 other poor devils to drown? You are a 
 nice fellow, you are — then whine for 
 
 28 
 
sympathy. You ought to be sent down 
 to the Circus Hor — " 
 
 "Oh please, Mr. Devil, don't mention 
 it! I'll be good! Boo hoo!" 
 
 It made Conklin's heart palpitate 
 from fear as well as from sympathy to 
 see the old child snivel and try to wipe 
 the scalding tears off his lashless eye- 
 lids and blink through the steam as they 
 evaporated. He wanted to go away, yet 
 there was something fascinating thus to 
 be face to face with one of the ark- 
 lights of history. He never expected to 
 see Noah in this light, either! 
 
 "Go back to your companions, the 
 sweet spirits of night — ah!" said the 
 master, and after Noah had shuffled out 
 of sight through the throngs, he turned 
 to Conklin, smiling as he noticed the 
 puzzled expression on his face. "I 
 have often been puzzled too, Mr. 
 Conklin. Lots of time I have started 
 to do away .with the old, out-of-date 
 things and people here, but somehow 
 they stick like leeches, and I can't 
 
 29 
 
get rid of them. You know how it is 
 yourself: — how hard it comes to throw 
 away the relics of your childhood days 
 — dance-cards, silly letters from an old 
 flame, a withered bouquet, a bit of faded 
 ribbon. Such things grip the heart. 
 You finger them over lovingly and then 
 put them back into your drawer with a 
 sigh, wishing all the time that you had 
 the courage to drop them into the grate. 
 The best we seem to be able to do is to 
 reinterpret the old in a different way. 
 So with these rheumatic fellows — how- 
 ever much they may delay the line, we 
 still hang on to them. Anybody else 
 you'd like to see or interview?" 
 
 ''Why, to tell the truth, I have always 
 had a desire to know who Adam was 
 and what sort of a man he appeared. 
 But I don't suppose he is here, is he?" 
 
 ''Not at this moment, Mr. Conklin, 
 but we can send for him. Just now he 
 is on the roof-garden playing with one 
 of our pythons. He was our first cus- 
 tomer, and we are proud of him, because 
 
 30 
 
of the immense patronage he brings us. 
 We treat him a little differently from 
 the rest. When we were in the old 
 building, we had a little plot of land set 
 apart with an apple-tree in it and a pond 
 of hot pitch underneath. In a small 
 hut Adam and Eve had to fry apples for 
 us devils to eat when we got hungry. 
 They took turns climbing the tree, one 
 branch of which, called the Limb of 
 Satan, was a trifle weak; and no matter 
 how carefully they descended after 
 throwing down the apples, they always 
 pitched into the pool head first. We 
 had a stuffed serpent hidden in the tree 
 in order to frighten them. The place 
 got to looking awfully seedy, and I was 
 glad to be rid of it when we moved into 
 our new quarters. It was too near to 
 nature. Nowadays the style is to have 
 things more artificial, more pleasing to 
 the eye, with lots of mechanical devices. 
 "Now Adam and Eve live on the roof, 
 as I said. The python plays with them 
 as if he were a brother; and when they 
 
 31 
 
forget who they are and why they are 
 there, absorbed in their play, the snake 
 leads them to a trap door, through which 
 they fall. They land at the bottom of 
 the 'elevator chute, rather the worse for 
 wear. They never fail to land on their 
 head, because they have a heavy con- 
 
 science." 
 
 At that moment something white shot 
 past the 'elevator door at a terrific speed. 
 
 ''There they go!" cried Satan eagerly. 
 "They just dropped! It's too bad, Mr. 
 Conklin. You would hardly care to see 
 them in their present condition — they 
 are pretty well broken up about their 
 fall. Some other time, perhaps, they 
 will be at home. I tell you what I'll do 
 — I'll show you over our hot-house. 
 Come this way." 
 
 Satan led the way to a door, which 
 opened into a large closet. When they 
 were inside, he closed the door, and then 
 pressed an electric button on the wall. 
 The latter opened out, and as the parti- 
 
 al 
 
tions swung back a telescope came into 
 place before them. 
 
 'We can look through this, Conklin, 
 and thus save time for you." 
 
 Conklin beheld, reflected on the mir- 
 ror of the instrument, the interior of a 
 long, narrow building. Rows upon 
 rows of spirits sat facing in the same 
 direction, toward the east. Imps with 
 hoses were running up and down the 
 aisles, pouring the contents into the faces 
 of the unfortunate wretches — fire, burn- 
 ing fire! It was a fearful image. 
 
 ^Tirst we exhaust the air in the build- 
 ing," Satan explained calmly, ''and 
 when the spirits pant for breath we give 
 them the fire-hose. What do you think 
 of our apparatus? There are lots of 
 Israelites in there, hypocrites, every one. 
 Some of them are usurers who charged 
 over six percent a month for their loans. 
 You would be surprised to know what a 
 large percent of our friends are women. 
 They seem to be the worst offenders 
 along the line of hypocritical gossiping. 
 
 33 
 
Sometimes there is a great display of 
 pyrotechniques in there, — when the imps 
 meet with spirits that have been soaked 
 in alcohol." 
 
 Conklin shivered. ^Who is that man 
 that a little demon has been playing the 
 hose on ever since we began to look — 
 right on the neck, too?" 
 
 "Oh that is Zedekiah, who sneezed at 
 the authority of Nebuchadnezzar. He 
 has a stiff neck, and the way he holds 
 his head bothers our little firemen. 
 That's all. Well, I guess that will keep 
 you thinking for some time. We'll 
 surely have to go now." He closed the 
 wall and opened the door. Then they 
 called Charon by means of the bell in 
 the 'elevator. While they were waiting, 
 Conklin asked whether any of the old 
 Romans were to be seen. 
 
 "Very few, very few," answered his 
 guide. "You don't seem to understand 
 our situation. Nobody comes here who 
 did not believe in Hell when alive on 
 earth." 
 
 34 
 
"What?" asked Conklin in surprise. 
 "No one here who did not believe in 
 Hell?" 
 
 "Of course not. Why should she? 
 Hell is thought of by people as being a 
 place of eternal punishment for their 
 neighbors. Naturally the neighbors who 
 do not believe in Hell do not come here, 
 for they have so much charity at least." 
 
 It seemed to Conklin that Satan was 
 actually trying to keep from crying, 
 since his voice could scarcely be heard 
 through the wads, and clouds of steam 
 rose from his eyes. 
 
 "Those who do not believe in a place 
 of future punishment for other people 
 may have their faults, but they seldom 
 come here," he added. 
 
 At that moment Charon opened the 
 door, bowing obsequiously. He hap- 
 pened to be going by when the bell was 
 rung. 
 
 "After you, my dear sir," said Satan, 
 and he ushered him into the machine 
 politely. "Next floor, Charron!" 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The Circus Stultus 
 
 A S they were speeding down the well 
 *^ oiled well with the power of the 
 devil added to gravity, Charon turned 
 to the evil one and whispered hoarsely: 
 '^Does Mr. Conklin blow from Lynn?" 
 Satan staggered up against the side of 
 the 'elevator, but then recovered him- 
 self and frowned horribly. ^^It is not 
 every horn that blows, Charon, even on 
 the automobiles. The honk is becoming 
 more popular than the conch. Your 
 sally nearly took me off my feet, but I 
 forgive you this time. Don't let it hap- 
 pen again. No matter how much you 
 may make fun of our residents, you must 
 always treat our guests with the greatest 
 consideration and courtesy. We must 
 guard our appearances, just as the Ne 
 Orkers do." He relapsed into silence 
 
 36 
 
and sat down beside James, who seemed 
 sunk in thought. For several hours they 
 descended thus, rapidly as lightning, 
 yet smoothly as the B. & M. R. R.— 
 Satan knows how to make all roads 
 smooth. At last Charron applied the 
 brakes, and they stopped without a jolt 
 at the second story. The master touched 
 his visitor lightly on the shoulder. 
 
 "We get out here," he said in a kindly 
 manner. "Hungry? Take these con- 
 centrated food-tablets, which will be as 
 good as a dinner to you. You will be 
 tickled almost to death when you swal- 
 low them, and they will last until you 
 return to your happy home above. 
 Don't be afraid. 
 
 "Now this is the Circus Stultus, or 
 Silly Circus, in which I take a great 
 deal of pride. It is really an educa- 
 tional institution. Perhaps you know 
 that I am not only one of the most 
 famous educators of the world, but the 
 special advisor of its schoolmen. There 
 is a meeting on today in Chic Ago, but 
 
 37 
 
as I have this engagement with you, I 
 could not be there; so I asked Brother 
 Mammon to take my place. He is my 
 proxy very often. I am a busy man — 
 hardly have time to see my wife and 
 children." 
 
 ^Who is your wife, Satan?" asked 
 Mr. Conklin. "I never knew that you 
 were married. That is certainly news 
 to me." 
 
 '^There are lots of things that the 
 wisest men do not know about — even 
 our experimental psychologists, whom 
 you will meet in one part of this circus. 
 Yes, I got married several years ago. 
 Cleopatra is the girl. Ever heard of 
 her?" 
 
 ^^Of course I have," replied James, 
 whose eyes had already recovered from 
 the habit of sticking out of their sockets 
 when they were startled: he was getting 
 used to his new surroundings. "She 
 was not a maid, however, Mr. Satan, 
 when she came to you! Why lots of 
 men, Caesar, Anthony — " 
 
 38 
 
"I know, I know. You need not tell 
 me her history : we have it on our books. 
 It was I who helped give her promi- 
 nence when she was alive on the earth. 
 I was her first love! No, she was not 
 a maid when I got her, but she was 
 remade. And she is all to the mustard, 
 too. She can play with asps all she 
 wants to now, and they won't hurt her. 
 If you will pardon me, I'll not take you 
 to see her. A good-looking man like 
 you might make her want to leave 
 home, so I'll give her your regards, if 
 you like, and we'll forego the rest. You 
 came on business, anyway, and not on a 
 social visit. Here we are in the play- 
 ground of the Silly Circus, where we let 
 the poor studes come for ten or twelve 
 minutes once or twice a year in order 
 to have them appreciate fully what they 
 
 miss." 
 
 In truth, it was a beautiful play- 
 ground like a park, only hundreds of 
 times larger than Entral Park, Ne Ork, 
 and with much cleaner water. Here 
 
 39 
 
were swans swimming about; birds of 
 all kinds and descriptions; tame animals 
 running around in the grass and hiding 
 in the trees; and flowers springing up 
 everywhere. 
 
 '^Sometimes we bring here people that 
 teased or vexed other animals malicious- 
 ly, to satisfy their own ego, and we 
 watch imps, birds and animals tear them 
 to pieces, only of course we sensitize 
 their nerves first; and we put them 
 together as soon as they are rendered 
 piecemeal. We do that whenever we 
 wish to have a little sport. This little 
 stream is all that is left of the Phleg- 
 ethon, which has dried up considerably 
 on account of the heat in the new build- 
 ing. We send it down stairs through a 
 tube well greased with Croton oil to be 
 utilized for ice. Do you see yonder bed 
 of violets? It has its spring underneath 
 that bed. Should you like to rest awhile 
 here in the park while I go down to see 
 Cleopatra for a minute, or should you 
 
 40 
 
prefer to go at once to the school- 
 rooms?" 
 
 ^^Being very much interested in mat- 
 ters pertaining to education, I think I 
 prefer to see the schools, if it is the same 
 to you, Mr. Devil." 
 
 "Surely it is the same to me. Brother 
 Conklin. Come along." 
 
 At last they arrived at the gates of 
 the school, an immense building made 
 of adamantine cement with only seventy- 
 five percent of rubble in it. There was 
 no attempt at architecture because, as 
 Satan explained, the poor devils rarely 
 saw the outside. 
 
 "The Phlegethon winds around the 
 building three times in thousand mile 
 curves — the largest brook-wind in the 
 world. The furies guard the threshold, 
 which is directly ahead. It's the largest 
 door in the universe. Within, in the 
 outer hall, the fates, the greatest rascals 
 of mythology, spin their worm-eaten 
 yarns. Are you taking note of all these 
 valuable facts, Mr. Conklin? We cross 
 
 41 
 
over by this bridge — largest of its kind 
 in the country — Bridge of Size." 
 
 The bridge groaned beneath their 
 feet, because it was unaccustomed to 
 carrying living burdens. As they ap- 
 proached the threshold, the furies rose 
 and lifted their long, vicious whips to 
 keep away the intruders ; and they would 
 have done Conklin damage had not 
 Satan spoken to them harshly. 
 
 ^'Don't you know better than to treat 
 thus with disrespect my visitors, old 
 hags? I have a good mind to send you 
 down to the Circus Horri— " 
 
 "Oh please don't!" they cried in uni- 
 son, with tears filling their bleary eyes. 
 "We'll be good!" So they pleaded for 
 mercy, which was immediately granted; 
 and their hissing snakes cowered behind 
 their heads, trying to hide from sight. 
 
 "I have a good mind to substitute 
 good, new Yale locks for their old 
 snaky locks," Satan remarked after 
 they had entered the inner hall. "But 
 we must give them something to do, 
 
 42 
 
since we are under contract to them, 
 by Jove. They wanted to punish the 
 unruly scholars, but there are very few 
 naughty ones, I assure you, down here 
 in our institution. One mention of the 
 torrid zone, which is the lowest of all 
 the circuses, makes them stand around 
 to time. You know yourself that cor- 
 poral punishment is out of date, and that 
 moral persuasion is being used almost 
 entirely in the modern schools. We 
 believe in feminizing our students, so 
 that they may become more tractable 
 and more conscientious in their work — 
 more eager to memorize in order to 
 show off. Hell-o! here are our ancient 
 spinners. Mr. Conklin, allow me to 
 introduce you to the Parcae — Nona, 
 Decuma, and Morta — good old Roman 
 
 names." 
 
 The three hags mumbled something 
 over their toothless gums which Conklin 
 could not catch. 
 
 ^'Never mind, sweet beauties," Satan 
 answered. '^Go ahead and spin. You 
 
 43 
 
must pardon them, my friend — it is not 
 every day that they see a man like you." 
 
 ''I couldn't hear what they said," 
 answered Conklin. 
 
 ^'All the better — you would only blush 
 at it. But I think you had better take 
 the plugs out of your ears while we are 
 in this circus. In the other circuses 
 where the healthy people dwell the 
 noise is frightful, but here the poor 
 wretches can scarcely make a sound. 
 Let us stop in the office of the superin- 
 tendent for a moment." 
 
 They entered a large office, which was 
 made bright and cheerful by means of 
 sulphur flames. On the walls were many 
 maps; on the window sills stood pots in 
 which grew Deadly Night Shade; and 
 in one corner lay a dog with three heads 
 and four tails. At the desk sat the 
 superintendent. 
 
 ''Mr. Beelzebub, this is James Con- 
 klin, from the world. I am going to 
 take him around through the Circus 
 
 44 
 
Stultus. Are all the classes held right 
 on time — on the very dot?" 
 
 ^^Yes, Sir, on the second. Each imp- 
 teacher passes from one subject to an- 
 other at the same second, without losing 
 a fraction of time. We have ordered 
 full speed ahead today, because the work 
 is pressing so that otherwise we can 
 never accomplish it all." 
 
 ^^That is right, keep them at it. You 
 see, Conklin, it would be bad to give 
 the spirits time to think, because they 
 might waste time in hatching up wicked 
 things to do. You remember the old 
 proverb about the idle hands, etc. Then 
 they might become gossipy, too. It is 
 best not to allow them time for reflec- 
 tion. Just pull down one of those 
 Shades, will you please, Bub? This is 
 the plant that makes our students open 
 their eyes when they become too effete. 
 See the brute in the corner? Nothing 
 else than Trivium and Quadrivium 
 stuffed and mounted. Looks natural, 
 doesn't he? Died long ago. Dangerous 
 
 45 
 
animal once — son of Cerberus. Come 
 on, Conklin." 
 
 "Who comes to this circus?" the lat- 
 ter asked. 
 
 "The cruel teazers and all who have 
 made a failure out of life on account of 
 folly. It is for that reason that we call 
 it the Silly Circus. We try to teach 
 them something worth while here, so 
 that in the future they may know how to 
 act more wisely. Our' training is ex- 
 tremely scientific. We start them at the 
 Kindergarter, and then slide them down 
 through the various grades, which are, 
 ex ordine: — Prime-Mary; Gran'-ma; 
 High-Stool; Prop-school, also called 
 Secondary Pap-school; Collar-age; Uni- 
 versal Tie; and Semi-Nursery, or Hot- 
 bed for Pseudo-Religious Seedlings. 
 Their brains fortunately become so soft 
 by the time they get to the Collar-age 
 that they are then quite easy to handle 
 as we wish. 
 
 "Here we are at last in the Kinder- 
 garter. Wonderful system! Planned 
 
 46 
 
by myself! See those boys with pitch- 
 forks going around the room? They 
 are the ushers and the prodders, part of 
 the generation transformed at the begin- 
 ning of the world into Shedim, and as 
 aides they are invaluable. We use the 
 Lilin as teachers throughout the school, 
 of whom Gog — that big spirit-devil with 
 goggles on his nose — is the master of this 
 ward; Ma-gog, his wife, is his assistant 
 — see her yonder, with specs, too? 
 Some of these goaders are the little 
 Goggles. There is nothing like keeping 
 the kids busy, is there?" 
 
 For some time they stood and watched 
 the fresh souls broken into the traces of 
 school life in Hell. Seated at tiny desks, 
 all in mighty rows, the wretched spirits 
 kept their eyes glued on their teacher, 
 who just now was teaching them orthog- 
 raphy and pronunciation at once. Their 
 hands were folded and placed exactly 
 upon the central edge of the desk. 
 
 Gog calls out in an awful voice: 
 "C— A— T!!" And then the whole mass 
 
 47 
 
squeaks out in answer, with thin, piping 
 accents: ''C— A— T— Cat!" Nine times 
 the process is repeated, and then the 
 imps swing their whips about the faces 
 and necks of the miserable scholars, that 
 dare not shrink from the blows, from 
 fear of being sent to the lowest circle, 
 but repeat the letters and word faster 
 and faster and with more effort, all in 
 unison. If one by chance fails to cry in 
 exact time with the rest, the scourge 
 falls in rapid tempo about his or her 
 sensitized temples and cheeks until the 
 fault is repaired. It is a gruesome sight, 
 and it almost frightens Conklin. 
 
 ^^Don't be nervous, my dear friend," 
 said Satan, who noticed his perturba- 
 tion. "This is mere child's play com- 
 pared with our other classes. Do you 
 but listen now — this is interesting." 
 
 Gog was lengthening his phrase. 
 "Cat-o'-nine-tails!" he spelled out, and 
 all repeated it after him with the usual 
 accompaniment of blows, which seemed 
 
 48 
 
to have a life and eagerness of their 
 own. 
 
 ^^Those scourges are cat-o-nine-tails," 
 said the Devil, "which the imps wield. 
 It is thus that we exemplify our own 
 methods, so that in case any of the 
 human souls wish to become imps 
 themselves and teach in their turn 
 they would know how to proceed with 
 their task. Each knot represents a spe- 
 cial stage in all schooling. The first is 
 Imitation, which is not merely the prime 
 incentive but also the major end; Mem- 
 ory, without which we could not see 
 whether our methods were being effec- 
 tive, and Recitation tied together in one 
 knot; Knowledge, the store of antiq- 
 uities; Vanity, the chief attendant of 
 the student; Superficiality, a valuable 
 veneer With which to cover sores and 
 pimples; Tests, which arouse both fear 
 and injustice; Grades, the great level- 
 lers; Examinations, the rickety step- 
 ladder of advancement; and finally 
 Prizes, the pasty gems of scholasticism. 
 
 49 
 
When put together, the nine knots are 
 called classes — whips all ready for use. 
 We love them, because they are so effec- 
 tive. Hear them? Ha ha!" 
 
 ''You have a great organization, 
 Devil." 
 
 ''Don't we, though? Let me show you 
 how well drilled they are." 
 
 Satan made a motion to Gog, who 
 immediately ceased shouting. Then he 
 snapped his fingers, and lo! they all rose 
 as a man; he snapped his tail, and they 
 subsided together like so much machin- 
 ery. "Great work, boys and girls!" he 
 shouted hilariously like a child tickled 
 with a toy. "Now I want two or three 
 of you to come forward and speak to 
 our friend, who has come way from the 
 upper world to see you here. You ought 
 to feel highly complimented and do 
 your work twice as fast when he is gone, 
 so that if he should visit you again some 
 time you could make a jim-dandy show- 
 ing. Willie! Tommy! Jennie!" 
 
 Behold thousands of the wretched 
 
 50 
 
spirits rose from their seats and started 
 to come forward. 
 
 ^'O Gosh!'^ cried out Satan in amaze- 
 ment. ^^I want only one of you. Come 
 here, you little puny ghost near the cor- 
 ner, and the rest of you go ahead with 
 your studies, and try to do 'two days' 
 work in one. Who are you?" 
 
 "I am Tommie!" squeaked the shade, 
 shaking in all his loosened joints from 
 terror. 
 
 "What else are you?" 
 
 "I am a fool!" 
 
 "I should say that you were, and I 
 am glad that you recognize it, for it is 
 the first step toward wisdom. Why did 
 you come here?" 
 
 "Because I used to play cards with 
 the boys and drink champagne with the 
 girls!" 
 
 "I should say you did! You had bet- 
 ter read some of Ben-Cyrac's books 
 when you get time. Now go back to 
 your seat and behave yourself!" 
 
 The spirit returned to his place shak- 
 
 51 
 
ing as if he had the ague, and soon he 
 was reciting his lessons with the rest. 
 
 ^'He does not seem to have any origin- 
 ality!" exclaimed Conklin in surprise. 
 
 ''Of course he doesn't. What do you 
 think the modern method tries to do — 
 create idiots for the lunatic asylums? I 
 am afraid that you have not acquired 
 the great principles of modern edu- 
 cators. What we are all after at present 
 is to make a child a good social unit — 
 fit him in, like a pebble on the beach; 
 when he has original corners that cause 
 him to be a little different from the rest, 
 we have to smooth him off rather 
 roughly. Individualism can not — must 
 not exist — in the society of tomorrow." 
 
 "Ah, yes! Then that modern Italian 
 method of Kindergarter training — is it 
 not recognized as being a splendid sys- 
 tem?" 
 
 "Yes, although that kills individual- 
 ism as high as the garter, and no more. 
 It fits right in with our ideals, never 
 fear. I helped invent the system one 
 
 52 
 
day when I was in Rome. The beauty 
 of it is that the child is always in a class, 
 and can not get away from it. Did you 
 ever see a rain-storm?" 
 
 "Of course — I have watched hundreds 
 of them." 
 
 "Were you ever able to tell one drop 
 from another? No? And yet each one 
 fell just as it pleased, did it not? Ha 
 ha! Didn't I tell you? It's time to be 
 going now, Mr. Conklin, to the next 
 room. Should you like to visit the 
 Gran'ma department, or skip to the 
 High-Stool?" 
 
 "If you have no objections, I would 
 rather skip to the High-Stool. Is there 
 anything of especial interest to be seen 
 in the Gran'ma department?" 
 
 "Oh it is very similar to the Kinder- 
 garter, except that they begin a great 
 variety of subjects — thousands of them. 
 We are increasing the number of studies 
 every day, since we find that they can 
 contain in their hollow brains all that 
 
 53 
 
we desire to shove in. Variety is the 
 spice of life, you know. Let's skip." 
 
 So together they left the initiatory 
 place of torture, arm in arm like old- 
 time friends; and before long they 
 reached their destination. There seemed 
 to Conklin to be unusual excitement in 
 the air. 
 
 ^^Nothing extraordinary," Satan an- 
 swered to his questions. "There is 
 always an air of excitement about the 
 place. The scholars are just coming to 
 the point where they appreciate knowl- 
 edge as an absolute science, as an end in 
 itself, and naturally they are enthusias- 
 tic about it; it makes our work easier. 
 Then again, they know that what they 
 do here is commanded from above — I 
 mean from the Collar-ages, to be sure; 
 and besides is closely related to the 
 accomplishments of the Pap-schools, 
 which they are all fond of. Nihil nisi 
 de Collar-age is their motto. Too, many 
 of them are looking ahead to the time 
 when they may wear the Universal-ties, 
 
 54 
 
and thus bear a still more striking resem- 
 blance to each other, not only in face 
 and manner and language, but in dress. 
 Alike, we like is their slogan." 
 
 James Conklin was a bit surprised to 
 discover how similar the great High- 
 Stool was to the Kindergarter. Never- 
 theless, there was this great difference: 
 the imps swung their knouts with more 
 violence and cruelty; and, furthermore, 
 some of the pupils, instead of reciting 
 their lessons aloud at the top of their 
 poor, thin voices, were writing with 
 great rapidity. Sheda, the master, dex- 
 terously waved his wand of authority, 
 thus commanding a chorus of open 
 throats, which, although they did their 
 best, uttered but a plaintive cry. Even 
 the sudden appearance of Satan with his 
 living comrade did not interrupt them 
 for a single second, but their knees 
 trembled under the desks, and the hands 
 of the writers shook so violently that 
 scrawls instead of letters were fashioned 
 upon the inscription sheets. 
 
 55 
 
Then Satan made his signs to Sheda 
 and to the students, who stopped short, 
 rose and sat together. It was a wonder- 
 ful manifestation of superior discipline. 
 
 James Conklin seemed to be strangely 
 affected by the marvelous spectacle. He 
 clasped his temples with his hands and 
 uttered a loud cry of distress. 
 
 ^What is the matter with you, my 
 dear fellow?" cried the Devil in much 
 alarm. "If anything should happen to 
 you down here I would never forgive 
 myself!" 
 
 Amid the curious gaze from thou- 
 sands and thousands of eyes, Conklin 
 turned slowly to the Devil, allowed his 
 arms to fall to his side, and said in a 
 hoarse whisper: 
 
 "A thought just came to me! It is not 
 on account of man's education that he is 
 imitative and superficial — it is because 
 he is imitative and superficial that he 
 has such an education!" 
 
 The numberless eyes became sad. 
 Sheda bit his lip. Satan shook his head 
 
 56 
 
and laughed. "Is that all you have, 
 Conklin? I could have told you that 
 hundreds of years ago. Did you never 
 travel in the forests of Brazil? or watch 
 the monkeys at the zoo? Poor man! 
 Will you have some more lozenges? 
 Are you cold? Forget your thoughts, 
 man, and be cheerful — join the recita- 
 tion — swear — anything! Let us be en- 
 tertained, Sheda! Have you any bril- 
 liant scholars?" 
 
 "Thousands of them, sir," replied the 
 worthy pedagogue unhesitatingly. "Ad- 
 die, come forward and tell our honor- 
 able guests what you know. The rest of 
 you go on with your work — ^we have 
 still five thousand pages to cover before 
 night." 
 
 The spirit called Addie approached 
 bashfully the king of corrections, and 
 gave a pretty courtesy. Evidently she 
 had been no chicken upon the earth, for 
 she was no longer a girl. 
 
 "Who are you, anyway?" demanded 
 Satan in a roiigh voice. 
 
 57 
 
"I — I don't — know, sir," she stam- 
 mered. 
 
 ^^Except that you are Addie. Well, 
 that is enough. What are you here for?" 
 
 ^To study, sir." 
 
 ^^To be sure; and I hope you do it 
 well. I meant rather, for what reason 
 were you sent here? Naturally you are 
 a nonentity in this — hem — ha — hm — 
 devilish brigade. Try to put yourself 
 back on earth where you were some- 
 thing, at least a nonsentity." 
 
 "Ah! yes, now I remember: I dwelt 
 in the outskirts of Ne Ork; my name 
 was Mrs. Flyahy; I was a rich woman; 
 I used to play Bridge-Whist for coin." 
 
 "Exactly. Oh, I know you well, 
 Addie. More than one piteous wretch 
 you tempted into infernity. You were 
 a lewd prude; a pickled prune; stewed 
 most of the time. Now go ahead and 
 tell us what you have learned down 
 here." 
 
 "Gosh, Mr. Satan, that would take 
 forever!" 
 
 58 
 
^^Well, begin." 
 
 ''Abcdefghi — 2x2 are 4, 2x3 are 6, 
 2x4 are 8 — a+b=x — pronouns have in- 
 flections of gender to designate — vapor 
 is condensed by the cooling of the — the 
 angle of refraction is equal to — hug- 
 ging your opponent is a foul — one foul 
 thrown into the basket counts one — CH3 
 CO2 C2 H5 + H2 0=C2 H5 O H + CH3 
 CO2 H — add one teaspoon soda, one 
 half teaspoon cream o' tartar and — al- 
 truism is the action of human sympathy 
 upon the cold stones — Tennyson scrib- 
 bled the Princess — the quality of mercy 
 is not strained but — ich bin, du bist, er 
 ist — ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten 
 dass ich so traurig coalbin — oui, oui, 
 monsieur, je suis tres heureuse de vous 
 voir, mais vous etes un vrai diable — 
 George Washington was born the — the 
 Presidents were — the boy stood on the 
 burning deck — tra la la yod'el!! — " 
 
 ''Stop, for grandma's sake, stop. Ad- 
 die! Did they teach you all that here?" 
 
 'Tes, sir." 
 
 59 
 
a- 
 
 'Very good. That's excellent. Now 
 go back to your seat and do your work 
 like a good girl. Trot! It must have 
 been a severe task for her, Mr. Conklin, 
 and I almost pity her. You know, she 
 used to be so stout — perhaps you saw 
 the shadow of her form? And fat 
 people find it very hard to memorize, 
 you know. But patience and obedience 
 will accomplish miracles. Don't you 
 think that the future generations will be 
 very bright? I think so, if what Addie 
 recited to us so nicely is indicative of 
 the general preparation. And her man- 
 ners were so good, too! But they may 
 have been a relic of her past life, of 
 course. We are planning great things, 
 great things, Mr. Conklin. Would you 
 care to go next to the Collar-age?" 
 
 Conklin shook his head sadly. 
 
 ^'No? Why, my dear man, you do 
 not appear to be very enthusiastic. Are 
 you not well? Would you like another 
 lozenge? Another coat of asbestos 
 paint? I guess Addie surprised you 
 
 60 
 
some, ha ha! That's it, Mr. Conklin. 
 You'll be all right before long — you'll 
 forget her, and then there will be some 
 one else, and so on. I don't blame you 
 — she was a fine-looking girl. Well, to 
 tell the truth, you would find the Collar- 
 age and the Universal-tie more or less 
 of a continuation of this; and in the 
 Seedling Home for Nurselings they do 
 mostly reading which might not interest 
 you very much. We'll cross over to the 
 Experimental Station, where our psy- 
 chologists look over the brains of those 
 who are affected deleteriously by our 
 training, or who came to us in bad con- 
 dition, mostly the latter — hm! This 
 way, please." 
 
 Satan took his friend's arm in order 
 to give him a little support and to cheer 
 him up. They went upstairs by means 
 of a moving escalator and into a large 
 room shaped liked a clinics' hospital. 
 Hundreds and thousands of shades sat 
 around the central platform in an 
 amphitheater. At the bottom the experi- 
 
 6z 
 
ments were made on subjects chosen by 
 lot from the group, while all the rest 
 watched in the hope of learning some- 
 thing, for Satan allowed no one to be 
 idle or to do anything by themselves. 
 They approached the clinic. 
 
 Several shades, who were the experi- 
 menters themselves, with enormous 
 heads and squinting, shifty eyes, were 
 cutting and probing the heads of their 
 subjects by means of various strange 
 instruments. 
 
 "Whing he la tum tum nut ty bdl- 
 lyfph grrrumnia pathka bing!" one of 
 them, who seemed to be the chief oper- 
 ator, shouted excitedly. 
 
 ''Did you hear that?" cried Satan. 
 "He is on the eve of a wonderful dis- 
 covery! He says that he has found by 
 measuring the forward antennas of the 
 second cell of the occipital lobe that the 
 angle computed two weeks ago was 
 wrong. Soon they will have discovered 
 the laws and movements of human 
 
 62 
 
nature!" and he rubbed his hands with 
 glee. 
 
 "Why is it that everything looks so 
 much out of proportion here, so very 
 large?" James Conklin asked. 
 
 "It is because in order to see better 
 and to make a better showing they have 
 greatly magnified this science and its 
 subjects. Oh, they know how to do it — 
 they are shrewd men." 
 
 "I feel dizzy, Mr. Satan," said Con- 
 klin. 
 
 "Do you really? I am afraid that 
 our wonderful learning has been too 
 much for you. But you must not try to 
 absorb it all at once, my dear man. 
 Some people, with very large back- 
 heads too, have studied for years and 
 years without exhausting all the mate- 
 rial offered them. So do not be discour- 
 aged. Shall we go?" 
 
 "Just as you say," answered Conklin. 
 
 When they had arrived again at the 
 pretty park, Satan pointed out a bench 
 underneath a tree. 
 
 63 
 
"I am going to let you have a little 
 rest before adventuring into the next 
 circle. Lie down on the bench and 
 sleep. There are no policemen here, so 
 don't worry about your sole — no body 
 will trouble it. I am going down to see 
 my Cleopatra. Ta ta!" 
 
 64 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Circus Glacialis 
 
 "LJELL-O!" cried Satan, who had re- 
 turned, depositing a huge bundle 
 on the bench where he had left Conklin. 
 ^'Hell — o — o! Where in — hell — o — o! 
 Where are you, James Conklin?" 
 
 "Over this way, Devil, behind the 
 trees! Come quick!" he heard shouted 
 from a throat that still retained some 
 huskiness of earthly life. "Come quick!" 
 
 Satan hurried through the bushes. 
 He wondered what could have hap- 
 pened to his visitor, for whose soul he 
 was now responsible, and he trembled 
 from head to foot. 
 
 "I got you that time! Keep quiet, 
 won't you?" came to his ears. "This 
 way, Devil!" 
 
 When Satan cleared the last bush 
 with his cloven leaps, he saw Conklin 
 
 65 
 
leaning over two prostrate spirits, which 
 he was holding down by means of a 
 pitchfork stuck in the ground so as to 
 enclose them and bind them tightly. 
 They were struggling hard in vain ef- 
 forts to get away from their captor; 
 but when they caught sight of Satan, 
 they desisted, and lay still as in death. 
 
 'What in the deuce have you got here, 
 my friend?" demanded Satan with an 
 amused smile. "Been hunting?" 
 
 Conklin stood up, but he clung to the 
 fork. His face was very red. "Fm 
 glad you came, Devil," he said, wiping 
 the perspiration from his brow. "I was 
 having an awful time trying to hold 
 them. You see, I lay down on the bench 
 and had a nice little nap after you went 
 away. When I woke up, I started out 
 to reconnoiter a bit around the park, 
 because everything looked so fresh and 
 beautiful. I was having a bully time 
 feeding nuts to the squirrels, when sud- 
 denly I ran across this spirit here" — 
 pointing to his captives — "leaning up 
 
 66 
 
against a tree with something in his 
 hand. As soon as he sees me he jumps 
 up and aims the thing at me. I was 
 afraid, and I hollered and ran. I must 
 have started up this little imp'' — with 
 another gesture toward the pile — "be- 
 cause he came sneaking around the 
 corner with this pitchfork in his hand, 
 and when he saw the spirit he made a 
 bee line for him and began to maul him 
 terribly. That was more than I could 
 stand, so I sailed in and caught them 
 both. There they are — who are they?" 
 
 Satan laughed and laughed until he 
 doubled over; and still he laughed. 
 "P-p-pard-on m-me!" he exclaimed at 
 last. '^It is so funny! You have caught 
 both the truant and the truant-officer!" 
 And he laughed again. 
 
 Conklin smiled sheepishly and let go 
 the fork. "Do you mean that this spirit 
 has run away from school?" he asked. 
 
 "Exactly, sir. He probably escaped 
 from the building and was reading a 
 book in the shade. There it is now by 
 
 67 
 
the tree-trunk. Pick it up and let's see 
 what it is." 
 
 Conklin picked it up gingerly. "By 
 jingo, it was not a gun after all!" he 
 exclaimed, turning red from embarrass- 
 ment. " 'The Psychology of Religious 
 Experience,' by Ames — of all things!" 
 
 '^That's harmless, although it does 
 look dangerous," said Satan. "Take the 
 pitchfork away, and let us see whom we 
 have here, if you please. Brother." 
 
 The latter did as he was requested; 
 and the two spirits, one human and the 
 other demon, after kicking convulsively 
 two or three times, rose to their feet. 
 
 "Go home to your father, Beelzie," 
 the archfiend commanded, "and tell him 
 to give you ten credits and a stick of 
 arsenic to suck. You are a good boy. 
 You will pardon Mr. Conklin, because 
 he is a visitor of honor, and besides he 
 didn't know what was up. Run! Now, 
 who are you, my man?" turning angrily 
 to the other. 
 
 "My norrif eet ees Tommee Hunterr!" 
 
 68 
 
answered the ghost very decisively, with 
 a strong French accent. 
 
 "Come out of it!" shouted Satan. 
 "Don't you know who I am? Don't you 
 know me well enough by this time, old 
 plutocrat, to know that I know who you 
 are? I knew you before you came down 
 here even. For a long time I had my 
 eyes on you. Next day you play hookie, 
 I'll send you down to the Cercle d'Hor- 
 reurs, Jean Calvin!" 
 
 Conklin stared. In spite of his re- 
 markable self-control, his eyes actually 
 stuck out of his head. 
 
 The spirit, which had at first made 
 an attempt to conceal his features with 
 his arm, not realizing that he was now 
 but a shadow of his real self, burst into 
 sobs, and rubbed his dry eyes with his 
 hollow fists. "Fll be good!" he blurted 
 out hysterically, falling upon his knees 
 before the master of corrections. 
 
 "You had better plead for mercy, old 
 hypocritical teazer," Satan said harshly. 
 "To tell the truth, I don't like to grant 
 
 69 
 
it to you, because you showed so little 
 when you were the cock of the walk in 
 Geneva and murdered your friends; but 
 for the sake of example, this time I will. 
 Stand up and behave like a man. Now 
 tell us how you got out, and where you 
 found this trash." 
 
 Jean twitched his great nose nervously 
 several times, and then cleared his throat 
 for his story. 
 
 "You see, Satan, Sir, that I found it 
 very monotonous in the psychology class. 
 I could hardly understand what the 
 experimenters were driving at. My 
 own systems are easier. Sir. Finally 
 they got hold of me in spite of my 
 remonstrances. Sir, and analysed my 
 head. They argued and poked about 
 for a horribly long time, and the pain 
 they gave me was excruciating. They 
 claimed that I was suffering from an 
 abnormal disease which they styled 
 Semicosis of the Functional Apparatus 
 of the Subliminal Self. When they fin- 
 ished with me at last and sent me to my 
 
 70 
 
seat, Sir, I took an opportunity to seize 
 this book, which one of the professors 
 reads in order to clarify his thoughts, 
 and slip out through the door while they 
 were quarrelling about somebody's facial 
 angle. As it happened the fates were 
 spinning yarns so fast that they didn't 
 see my shadow as I went by them; and 
 the furies were pulling each other's hair. 
 And then — " 
 
 "I know, I know, Jean. You sat down 
 in the shade of the old apple-tree read- 
 ing that shady book. It's a bad business 
 for a shade of your ecclesiastical connec- 
 tions. I am mighty glad that Mr. Con- 
 klin caught you, but I am sorry he saved 
 you from a severe whipping. Next 
 time, as I intimated, it will be different. 
 Go back to your room, and take back 
 that novel to its owner. By the way, 
 how far did you get?" 
 
 '^Only as far as the curses on page 
 145, sir." 
 
 "That is plenty far enough. Don't 
 forget my words. Go. I hope you won't 
 
 71 
 
think that this is an example of our 
 regular school discipline, Mr. Conklin," 
 Satan, when Calvin was out of sight, 
 continued, nursing his lips with his tail. 
 "It doesn't happen in a dog's age. How- 
 ever, I know that you have some com- 
 mon-sense and do not judge by appear- 
 ances only. What do you think of our 
 truant?" 
 
 "Fd rather not tell you, Mr. Angel. 
 How did he happen to be in the school? 
 He did not ruin his life by folly, did 
 he?" 
 
 "No. He is a regular attendant of 
 the upper department of our institution, 
 the Circus Maximus, which you have 
 already seen. He was a hypocrite. The 
 experimenters asked for him, because 
 they wished to measure the smallness of 
 his mind and the magnitude of his Ego. 
 Famous characters like him are in great 
 demand, don't you know, because when 
 their names are attached to statements 
 everybody accepts them without a ques- 
 tion. He founded a theological club 
 
upstairs, which I allow to hold meetings 
 just before some important event is 
 pulled off: it arouses them to battle. 
 Jean is the president, of course, and I 
 myself am the 'z;/c^-president. Some of 
 our alienists have expressed the opinion 
 that he is unbalanced mentally, prob- 
 ably because of the size of his nose, 
 which pulls him forward. However, I 
 am better acquainted with him than 
 they, in spite of their examinations. I 
 know well what ails him: a disease 
 which usually has a congenital origin. 
 Ego Maximus/Ego major, some call it, 
 but his is bigger than that. If he does 
 not improve, we'll cast him down. Are 
 you ready to go?" 
 
 "Just as you say, doctor.'' 
 
 "Here are a couple of fur coats that 
 Cleopatra sent to you with her compli- 
 ments: she never uses them. You will 
 need them all right in the next circle. 
 Here are some skates besides. You 
 skate, do you not?" 
 
 73 
 
'^Surely. But isn't it a bit dangerous 
 skating with you, Satan?" 
 
 ^'Not at all. You are an honored guest, 
 and you are just as safe in Hell as at 
 home with your wife. Pardon me for 
 keeping five of these coats myself — some- 
 how I always feel cold, except when I am 
 with Cleo. That's right, ring five times. 
 Lucky again! The old boy happened 
 to be right here. Step in — lively, 
 please!" 
 
 Charon banged the door and opened 
 wide the throttle. The car dropped like 
 a comet. Conklin's stomach shot up 
 against his throat and stuck there. 
 ^^God!" he muttered to himself as he sank 
 weakly upon the plush seat, "I thought 
 for the moment I was in Ne Ork!" 
 
 "Shall I rub your solar plexus, sir?" 
 asked Charron with a grin. 
 
 '^Mind your business!" cried Satan. 
 "Who gave you leave to speak? Do you 
 think you can take liberties with me 
 simply because I am pleasant to you 
 once in a while? I like not your portal 
 
 74 
 
vein of humor. I reckon we'll have to 
 find a place in the Circus Horribilimus 
 for you." 
 
 The pallor departed from Charon's 
 cheeks, leaving them like v^ithered 
 apples bitten by the frost. He turned 
 to his lever, on which he leaned for sup- 
 port in place of his shaking knees; nor 
 did he venture another word. 
 
 They came finally to a beautiful stop 
 at the third floor; and Charon opened 
 the 'elevator door with a profound 
 salaam. An icy chillness pervaded the 
 atmosphere, making the inspectors shiver 
 and shake, especially Satan, who trem- 
 bled violently in spite of the half-dozen 
 heavy furcoats and high cap which he 
 had put on during the descent. Never- 
 theless, he assumed a cheerful counte- 
 nance, as was his wont even when in 
 difficulties, and remarked to his human 
 companion that they would warm up 
 quickly on the ice. 
 
 "Let me attach your skates for you," 
 
 75 
 
said the Devil with chattering teeth, 
 stooping to honor James. 
 
 "No thanks!" the latter answered 
 curtly. "I prefer not to have you tam- 
 pering with my sole. Do you put on 
 your own, and I'll adjust mine myself. 
 You might tell me what we are to see 
 here, and who are committed to this 
 frigid region, and why." 
 
 The chief made answer thus: "The 
 Circus Glacialis is considered by some, 
 among whom are the inhabitants them- 
 selves, to be the most severe place of 
 punishment of all. However that may 
 be — I myself know that there are other 
 much more terrible tortures, it is not so 
 much for the punishment, which is being 
 recognized more and more by civilized 
 people as a mere relic of barbarism, as 
 it is for the antiseptic properties of the 
 ice that they are relegated hither, and 
 of course as a warning and example to 
 other beings. Punishment has no value 
 except as a preventative, and vengeance 
 simply as a means of personal satisfac- 
 
 78 
 
tion is now obsolete. But come, let us 
 hasten to get exercise, else I shall perish 
 from the cold. I will talk better as I 
 become warm." 
 
 They were on the edge of a wide bay. 
 Behind them towered the 'elevator w^all, 
 dark and gloomy. Before them the out- 
 look was even more melancholy, because 
 of a lowering haze that hung over the 
 vast expanse of black ice. No spirits 
 were in sight — nothing but bleakness. 
 
 Arm in arm the two skaters circled 
 the bay, according to Satan's directions. 
 At the end of an hour the Demon, hav- 
 ing forced his venous blood into circula- 
 tion, laughed off his last spasm of ague 
 and resumed his narration. 
 
 ''This little inlet is my own private 
 preserve. Once in a great while I come 
 here to reflect on the ice when things 
 are going wrong, or to cut a few fancy 
 figures when everything is bright and 
 gay. I should not have minded the cold 
 so much had I not stayed so long with 
 Cleopatra; but I am feeling better now. 
 
 77 
 
"There are no souls here, as you can 
 see. I would not have them anywhere 
 near the 'elevator for fear of contami- 
 nation ; but out in the great lake they are 
 thick enough, too numerous, indeed. 
 Most of them are imbedded in the ice 
 anywhere from five to five thousand feet 
 down, although a few are left with their 
 heads emerging. Hell-divers is the 
 name Charon invented for these poor 
 devils. He hates like Hell to bring 
 them down, and I don't blame him. He 
 kicked on the first load, and I had to 
 threaten him with the lowest circle 
 before he would get in the 'elevator with 
 them. He has pleaded with me to freeze 
 them up in cakes of ice before bringing 
 them down, and I don't know but what 
 that is an excellent idea. 
 
 "Here come those spirits that wittingly 
 transmitted venereal diseases to other 
 people, whether to strangers, friends. 
 Mammon-companions, servants, wives, 
 husbands, or children. Those who with 
 knowledge of their conditon contami- 
 
 78 
 
nated offspring are sensitized a hundred- 
 fold before receiving their icy entomb- 
 ment, and grippe-germs are pumped into 
 their throats. Adulterers come here 
 too — those that caused injury to others, 
 whether by tempting maliciously some 
 one to be a paramour, or by arousing 
 jealousy, or by breaking up the purity 
 and harmony of a family, or by blacken- 
 ing a reputation which otherwise might 
 have remained clean, or by lowering 
 another's moral sense and social ideals. 
 To these we give a sensibility fifty times 
 that of an ordinary living person suffer- 
 ing from the Grippe, before immersing 
 them. 
 
 ^'Still other spirits find their way 
 hither: the inhabitants of Sodom and 
 Gomorrah together with all their imi- 
 tators; male spirits who seduced young 
 girls and brought ruin on their heads; 
 females who helped to injure the reputa- 
 tion of stumbling members of their own 
 sex, pushing them down with gossip; 
 females who tried to seduce ministers 
 
 79 
 
and young men of good morals; shame- 
 less fornicators who knew better; and 
 the whole tribe of grossly immoral men 
 and women who clung to vice through 
 their own choice. They all are sensi- 
 tized. 
 
 ^^If any are so saturated with vice that 
 even the ice will not suffice to purify 
 them, or if they have committed horrible 
 crimes in addition to their carnal self- 
 indulgence, they are cast at once without 
 mercy into the Circus Horribilimus; 
 and, if there they still persist in being 
 shameless, they may never be heard of 
 
 more." 
 
 By this time Satan and James Conklin 
 were skating with long strokes out into 
 the great lake of purification. On every 
 side hovered the hellish gray mist, which 
 prevented them from seeing far ahead 
 — Conklin, at least. 
 
 ^^Are we in no danger of running into 
 something?" he asked. 
 
 "Nothing that can hurt you," answered 
 Satan, who now carried his companion 
 
 80 
 
along at high speed, curving majestically 
 now to the left now to the right. '*As it 
 sometimes happens, a head sticks up out 
 of the ice here and there; and, if we hit 
 it, our skates cut right through. The 
 only danger is that some of these spirits, 
 who have had time to themselves for 
 reflection, may have something heavy on 
 their minds, which are otherwise hol- 
 low, and so we might possibly get a bad 
 fall. That is why our skates are fash- 
 ioned with such large, high curls in 
 front, and we go so fast. A man's mind 
 can not withstand such great speed, you 
 know. Of course it hurts the souls hor- 
 ribly whenever they do get hit, but such 
 is their fate. I hope that today we hit 
 
 no—" 
 
 He was interrupted by a sudden jar, 
 which shook his frame and was trans- 
 mitted to Conklin through his arm. 
 Then Conklin himself stumbled, and 
 would have fallen had not Satan held 
 him up with a firm grip. 
 
 *^Hold on!'' cried the Unholy one. 
 
 8z 
 
^^That was a terrific blow. Somebody 
 got it in the neck! Wonder who it was? 
 Two of them, too, right near together. 
 Let's turn and ga back." 
 
 They swung around to the right under 
 Satan's guidance, and soon they arrived 
 at the scene of the accident. They heard 
 groans, dreadful groans, issuing appar- 
 ently at first, from the ice itself. 
 
 "What do you mean by attempting to 
 stop us on our journey?" the Wicked 
 Skater cried in an angry voice. "Who 
 are you, anyway?" 
 
 Conklin took out his ear-plugs in 
 order to hear everything that might be 
 said. For a while moans of pain and 
 the chattering of teeth was all he heard, 
 but soon a faint voice began to speak, 
 and then he distinguished the head of a 
 soul, whose black hair and black beard 
 afforded no contrast to the black ice. 
 Its nose was like a beak, long and cruel ; 
 and its face, which had been distorted 
 by years of vice, writhed and twisted 
 from pain. 
 
 82 
 
"I am the shade of the wicked Gib- 
 eon," the panting voice said, "Gibeon 
 of Gibeah. My comrade, who is fas- 
 tened in the ice just within sight, is 
 Benbenjah, my cousin. We lived lives 
 of evil. One day a stranger, a certain 
 Levite who sojourned on the top of 
 mount Ephim, came to Gibeah and ob- 
 tained lodging for the night at the home 
 of an old man. We and other Gibeah- 
 nites injured the stranger and his con- 
 cubine, leaving her dead at his door. 
 Oh-o-o-o-o-o-h!" 
 
 Satan shuddered and dragged Con- 
 klin away rudely. "Let's get out of this 
 quick!" he said, "this is too much for 
 
 me." 
 
 For some time neither of them spoke. 
 "Why don't you send those wretches 
 down to the Horrible Hole and be done 
 with them, Satan?" demanded Conklin 
 with an efifort, his voice hoarse and 
 husky. 
 
 "You don't understand," responded 
 the Prince of Darkness gently. "They 
 
 83 
 
did not have the light that we have 
 now." After a long pause he continued, 
 wishing to turn Conklin's mind into 
 other channels of thought: 
 
 "Do you see the skate-marks all over 
 the ice here? Those were made by our 
 imps whose business it is to inspect the 
 ice and its victims, and to attend to the 
 ammonia evaporators, which need much 
 care because they are so large. Mam- 
 mon, who is especially interested in Ne 
 Ork Sity, wanted me to have them 
 manufactured there, on account of its 
 being the most populous area for its size 
 in the land; but I was afraid that the 
 tremendous amount of corruption there 
 might affect the parts of the evaporators 
 and make them quickly rot; Beliar 
 asked to have them ordered from Karl 
 Snobs of Beslehems, probably because 
 of a personal interest, although Beliar 
 said ^because he makes his men work 
 like heir ; but I objected to the religious 
 connotations of the name, and therefore 
 
 84 
 
I got them from Bittspurg, the city of 
 holy smoke. 
 
 "I heard a good story about Bittspurg 
 one day, Mr. Conklin. I went to Filly 
 D'el-fear in the summer to visit a cer- 
 tain lady. I found her engaged in a 
 conversation with a friend from Bitts- 
 purg. It was awfully hot there, and I 
 don't blame the Filly D'el-fear lady for 
 saying what she did. She said, ^Isn't it 
 Just hot as Hell, yet!' Then they both 
 laughed, and the Filly D'el-fear lady 
 sort of apologized for her language, 
 saying that her friend probably didn't 
 know anything about that place. Of 
 course I chuckled to myself, because I 
 knew them both well! But I kept as 
 still as a mouse; and I heard the visitor 
 say: ^My stars and garters! Surely I 
 know all about it — why, I live there!' 
 ^Live there?' the fat Filly D'el-fearian 
 asked rather surprised. Was meinst 
 du, py donders?' ^Yes, indeedee,' the 
 visitor said, *I live in Bittspurg!' You 
 
 85 
 
should have seen the expression on the 
 fat lady's face! 
 
 "As I was saying, the imps cut around 
 here pretty lively sometimes, but I am 
 glad to see them enjoy themselves, for 
 we keep them working hard most of 
 the time. We have no labor unions 
 here. You would be surprised by the 
 way the little devils can go without 
 coats and still not seem to mind the cold! 
 Just now they are at work on the evapo- 
 rators at the other end of the pond, and 
 as it is very far we shall not go way 
 over there unless you are particularly 
 desirous of examining the apparatus." 
 
 "No,'' Conklin answered, "I am not 
 a boiler maker or an ice-cream freezer, 
 and there are other things in which I 
 am more interested — the human soul, 
 for example. I can see plenty of 
 machinery on the top of the earth, and 
 altogether too much, sometimes." 
 
 "Should you care to have me dig out 
 a poor ghost from his icy shroud with 
 our steam drill? There might be an- 
 
 86 
 
other carnisensual of whom you have 
 heard and would like to see." 
 
 "No," said Conklin again, with a deci- 
 sive shake of his head. "I have beheld 
 already a great sufficiency. Take me 
 away." 
 
 Satan smiled to himself, and turned 
 about after a long sweep. They took off 
 their skates at the edge of the bay and 
 examined the blades carefully. 
 
 "Hell-o!" said Old Harry with a 
 whistle. "A large nick in mine and 
 another in yours. Phew! I thought 
 those fellows had something heavy on 
 their minds. It must have torn them up 
 some. Well, it doesn't pay to interfere 
 with the old Nick!" 
 
 »7 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Circus Pluvialis 
 
 f T was not long before they were in 
 the 'elevator, going down once more. 
 Conklin came nearer fainting this trip 
 than the last, because of both the speed, 
 which seemed even more terrible than 
 before, and the heat, which brought out 
 the perspiration from every pore. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" said Satan, leaning 
 over him anxiously. Conklin thought 
 it strange that the Devil should have so 
 much sympathy, and asked him point- 
 blank how it happened. 
 
 "Shoot!" the latter exclaimed. Cha- 
 ron, who had started to snooze over his 
 lever, upon hearing his master's exclam- 
 ation started to turn on the triple- 
 expansion, and he might have succeeded 
 in snuffing out Conklin's life like a 
 candle-light had not Satan perceived 
 
 88 
 
his motion and caught him quickly by 
 the arm, and warned him in a kindly 
 manner to go gently. "It was but a 
 vocal gesture interpreting my individual 
 reaction to Brother Conklin's inquisitive 
 interrogation," he said to Charon. "Yes, 
 James, that is the way I feel when any- 
 one begins to talk about sympathy. 
 Surely some men exist who have that 
 blessed quality, but they are few and far 
 between; and the funniest thing is that, 
 although a woman manufactured under 
 the usual recipe generally has a thou- 
 sand times as much sympathy to spend 
 on a nice-looking, vigorous man than 
 man himself, nevertheless when it comes 
 to woman she is ready to cut and slash 
 like a butcher his meat. Possibly the 
 sex principle working inside of them 
 turns sour and drives them, both man 
 and woman, to be nasty to their rival 
 brothers and sisters. I am an optimist, 
 however. Brother Conklin, and I hope 
 for the best in the future." 
 
 "Fourth floor, going down!" Charon 
 cried. 89 
 
"No hurry, old buoy. We'll take our 
 time today if never again. I remarked, 
 sir, that in the future men may learn to 
 see what is good for them. As things 
 are now, I prefer to dwell in Hell. 
 I've often been in a so-called Christian 
 Theological Cemetery that seemed like 
 an ice-box through the cold corridors 
 of which frozen meat walked up and 
 down. Never mind — lots of places in 
 the world are not so bad as they appear, 
 and a few even have a little sunshine; 
 and if you don't enjoy one place, try 
 another. Legs were intended for loco- 
 motion. Tramps have the right idea, 
 only that they lean too far from the 
 social bias. However, can you blame 
 them? They know that the city is a bad 
 place for family life, that the petticoats 
 of a city are filled with empty super- 
 ficialities, and that the country is agree- 
 able only when it is kept moving. Every 
 time I walk along a residential street I 
 think I see myself grinning at me from 
 the windows. I prefer the Great White 
 
 go 
 
Way, where everything is open and 
 above board." 
 
 "Last call!" shouted Charon, who 
 had become imp-atient — there were so 
 many souls waiting at the top to be 
 brought down. 
 
 "I trust you get my point," Satan said 
 to Conklin. "Put on your wraps, for 
 you'll find them necessary; and take 
 that umbrella Charon put in the corner 
 for you. I would have brought rubber- 
 boots, but their soles would not last long. 
 If you get wet, you'll have a chance to 
 dry out in one of the lower circles." 
 While talking he himself resumed the 
 five or six coats which he had thrown 
 aside in the 'elevator, and took an um- 
 brella for his own use. "If there's any- 
 thing I object to it's getting wet." 
 
 Already they could hear the rain fall- 
 ing. "Where does it all come from?" 
 Conklin asked. 
 
 "From the story above. The ice melts 
 pretty rapidly, and we let the liquid 
 drop through little holes in the ceiling. 
 
 91 
 
which is miles farther up than you can 
 
 see." 
 
 ^^Haiir 
 
 "No, nothing but ice-water, though it 
 drops like hail, to tell the truth." 
 
 "How did Charon know enough to 
 bring the umbrellas, Satan? They were 
 not in the 'elevator before." 
 
 "I sent him a message by wireless 
 telepathy, which is a very convenient 
 mode of transcommunication. By means 
 of it I keep in touch with thousands of 
 up-to-date persons on the earth who 
 otherwise would find it difficult to get 
 me. For example, the other day a 
 woman telephammed me a night-mes- 
 sage — ^Shall I go or not?' She could 
 have sent a longer message at the same 
 rate, but for the very eloquence of her 
 laconic style I admired her — I am sick 
 of talking to women, and I hate to have 
 business relations with them as a usual 
 thing. So I telepathed back — ^Go.' 
 ril be looking for her soul before long. 
 
 92 
 
What are you laughing at, Mr. Con- 
 klin?" 
 
 "Ha! ha! they are so funny — those 
 souls hopping around in the grass — ha! 
 ha!" 
 
 "You would not laugh if you were in 
 their place, my dear man. They are in 
 agony. The chilling j-ain beats down 
 upon them and racks their nervous sys- 
 tem from end to end, for, being but 
 shades, their hollow hide is no protec- 
 tion to them. They leap and hop in 
 frantic endeavor to escape from one 
 bucketful, only to run head first into 
 another. Nevertheless, they receive this 
 blessing from it: the wicked thoughts 
 are beaten out of their heads as fast as 
 they come, until finally, after many 
 years — hundreds, yea, even thousands, 
 the good thoughts have a chance to 
 grow, since the water cannot hurt them/' 
 
 "Who come to this rainy region, and 
 why?" 
 
 "Souls that threw cold water on others 
 when they were alive, or wished them 
 
 93 
 
bad luck. Now they receive fine oppor- 
 tunities for tasting their own bitter 
 medicine. It is amusing to watch them 
 hop and skip, Conkiin, although I be- 
 come vexed for the moment whenever 
 anybody else makes fun of them for 
 their antics. Let us summon one of 
 them hither and question him." 
 
 No sooner had he spoken the words 
 than a little, weazened, razor-faced 
 spirit turned around and hastened up to 
 them. He presented a pitiable spec- 
 tacle as he shivered and shook from the 
 cold. 
 
 "Who in hell are you?" demanded 
 Satan gruffly. 
 
 "I-I am-m-m-m on-n-n-ne in-n-n-n 
 th-th-thousan-nd-ds-s-s," the wretched 
 devil tried to say through the shades of 
 his chattering teeth. "Wh-wh-wh-e-en- 
 n-n-nnn ^I-I-I cc-c-c-aa-a-a-a-mmm-m- 
 m-me here, y-y-ou-u ttt-t-too-oo-kkk-kk- 
 kkk-k aww-wway mm-m-my nn-n-na-a- 
 m-mm-me!" 
 
 "I should think I did," replied the 
 
 94 
 
Devil grimly. "Do you suppose for an 
 instant that I would let such a miserable 
 specimen of humanity as you are have 
 any personality down here with us?" 
 
 "Nn-n-n-n-nn-o-o-o-o, ssssir." 
 
 "You have learned some sense since 
 you arrived, at least. How do you like 
 it here, my man?" 
 
 "I-i-i-ttt is-s-s-s ccc-cc-ccc-o-ol-l-l-l-d- 
 d-dd as-s-s-s h-hel-1!" 
 
 "Now, youVe talking," said Satan, 
 rubbing his hands together with what 
 seemed to Conklin very much like glee. 
 "YouVe a college man, are you not?" 
 
 "Y-y-y-e-s-s-sss sss-s-s-i-rrr-r. I-I-I 
 am-m-m-mmm a-a-a D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-" 
 
 "Never mind that. I don't give a 
 continental which one — thev are all 
 alike; and I don't enjoy standing here 
 in the cold rain talking to such as you, 
 either. Hop along beside us as we walk 
 over to Refrigerator Pool, and shiver if 
 you have to, but for the land's sake tell 
 us what you know in a hurry and be 
 done with it. You threw cold water on 
 
 95 
 
your class-mates who were earnest men 
 and wanted to do something for them- 
 selves and the world in general, did you 
 not?" 
 
 ^T-y-e-ss, D-d-d-d-d-d-d-" 
 
 '^Call me Satan." 
 
 "Y-y-e-ss, Ssss-s-s-a-a-tt-t-a-a-nnn-n-nn- 
 n, a-n-n-d-ddd-d on-n-n evv-v-err-y-y- 
 bbbb-bb-bodddd-d-dy-y el-1-l-ssssse !" 
 
 "Warm up and hold your tongue to- 
 gether for a minute. Go get some of 
 your college mates and give us the y'ell 
 we taught you." 
 
 The ghost shivered off through the 
 icy shower and returned presently with 
 quite a band of insignificant-looking 
 ghosts. The first one drew them up 
 proudly in a bunch, and then waved his 
 arms three times. "One! two! three!" 
 he shouted, forgetting to stammer in his 
 excitement. "Learn from us! Learn 
 from us! Learn from us!" they all 
 hollered together, with squeaking spirit 
 voices; but they did make quite a noise. 
 
 "That's good!" said Satan approv- 
 
 96 
 
ingly. They all smiled through their 
 shakes. 
 
 ^'Now let's have the one you brought 
 with you." They hummed together in 
 order to get the right pitch, and then 
 they burst forth proudly: 
 
 "Hail, hail, the gang's all here. What 
 in hail do we care? What in hail do 
 we care? Hail, hail, the gang's all here. 
 What in hail do we care now?" 
 
 "Magnificent!" exclaimed the Devil. 
 "You are improving wonderfully. Now 
 run over to the park and play. I wish 
 you well in all your enterprises, pro- 
 vided they have a good purpose in view. 
 Trot! By the way, Brother Conklin, do 
 you know what is the greatest of all 
 truisms? Why, altruism; we try to 
 teach it to our little boys and girls. 
 You ought to see what a change comes 
 over them after a few years of care and 
 attention. Between the whip and love 
 we bring most of them around all right. 
 
 "Yonder lies the pool of which I 
 made mention. The rain-fall on this 
 
 97 
 
side of the divide runs into it; and be- 
 yond, far over the slope, another is 
 formed, of exactly the same size and 
 shape as this — a perfect circle in imita- 
 tion of the Circus in which we are. It 
 would never do to have too much 
 natural design here, because nature is 
 getting to be way out of date, and 
 artifice is king — a regular royal baking- 
 powder for the whole lump of life. 
 Every Saturday night we drive the 
 spirits into the ponds for a thorough 
 cleansing; they get no rub down when 
 they come out, so they run to keep 
 from freezing; they don't seem to mind 
 the rain much for a while after their 
 ice-bath, but when the cold shower gets 
 on their nerves again they are a sorry 
 lot; and the benefit they receive is be- 
 yond measure: they'll never throw cold 
 water again on earnest people, mark my 
 words." 
 
 "How do you drive them to the pools? 
 I see no imps about?" 
 
 "No imps are needed here, Mr. Con- 
 
 98 
 
klin. At six o'clock Saturday evening 
 we cause it to rain pitchforks, and they 
 are glad enough to move poolward to 
 escape from the piercing shower which 
 commences at the edges. Yonder is my 
 den; do you want to visit it?" He 
 pointed to a hole in the hillside. They 
 hastened toward it. 
 
 Suddenly a huge animal, which must 
 have been asleep in the entrance, or per- 
 haps dreaming brute day-dreams, darted 
 out, barking horribly. "Charge, Cer- 
 berus, charge!" commanded Satan. The 
 dog cowered at his feet and opened its 
 three mouths with a plaintive whine; 
 into them Satan cast quickly some char- 
 coal tablets which happened to be in his 
 pocket. The effect of them on the beast 
 was magical: his limbs relaxed in slum- 
 ber, and the heads fell forward onto the 
 ground between the paws. "There will 
 be a pause in his barking," Satan re- 
 marked, "and we can sit at our ease 
 within." 
 
 Conklin stood at the entrance for a 
 
 99 
 
while before going in. He wished to 
 watch the poor shades that flitted past 
 the den in every direction, beaten inces- 
 santly by the cruel rain. The hillside 
 was covered with them. One miserable 
 soul ran at the drops in fury, as if he 
 could tame them by biting and snarling, 
 just as a mad dog would leap frenzied, 
 at an enemy; but the more he gave 
 way to his wrath the more he became 
 tormented, until, losing his strength 
 through temper and violence, he fell 
 prone upon the wet ground and rolled 
 moaning down the slope into the pond; 
 the icy water brought him again to his 
 senses, and he crawled out upon the 
 bank with his head hanging down like a 
 whipped cur, and walked about deject- 
 edly in the clear space which his com- 
 panions, who either feared or hated him 
 or both, left for him. 
 
 "If I were you I would not watch that 
 soul very long," said the Corrector, "for 
 madness is catching. Do you not recog- 
 nize Alexander the great? It is he. 
 
 xoo 
 
For over two thousand years he who 
 conquered the world yet did not subdue 
 his own passions has acted thus. He is 
 just beginning to come to individual 
 consciousness, as his melancholy moods 
 indicate; soon perhaps he will have a 
 social awakening, which can not exist 
 without the other. Some remarkable 
 cures have been made in this circle, Mr. 
 Conklin. Many of our patients lose 
 control of their tempers and try blindly 
 to wrestle with the rain-drops; nor is it 
 always amusing to see their terrible 
 struggles; nevertheless, in time they 
 realize their weakness as well as the 
 futility of fighting against the elements, 
 and then they become docile even to 
 sociability. Leave your umbrella out- 
 side, please; it will be safe, since none 
 of the shades can lift it." 
 
 They found the cave snug and cozy 
 within. Electric lamps with soft, green 
 glow hung from the ceiling; a comfort- 
 able couch decorated with an embroid- 
 ered cover and silken cushions filled one 
 
 xox 
 
corner; across the room, which may have 
 been thirty feet square, stood a beautiful 
 oak book-case with glass doors; while 
 in the center was a reading table, carved 
 by hand, on which rested a drop light 
 of the latest style; original paintings by 
 the old masters hung upon the walls 
 among the banners of many colleges; 
 and on the floor were expensive oriental 
 rugs, any one of which would have 
 brought a fortune at a public sale: alto- 
 gether the den possessed an artistic tone 
 and an atmosphere of refinement and 
 thought such as James Conklin had sel- 
 dom experienced. 
 
 "Cleopatra helped me fit this out," 
 said Satan. "Do you not think she has 
 a good taste? I have found that women 
 as a rule possess a far greater apprecia- 
 tion and knowledge of beauty than men. 
 When I am tired of my executive labors, 
 and weary of doctoring up degenerate 
 spirits, I come here to enjoy life and to 
 get my bearings. Just as a ship must 
 often approach an uncharted coast with 
 
 102 
 
lead and sounding line in order to 
 ascertain the proper course, so I seek 
 my den when cares weigh heavy upon 
 me, that I may reflect upon the past 
 and ponder over the future. I keep 
 here the best books of all ages and 
 tongues, although to tell the honest truth 
 I seldom read. Good judgment, which 
 is the only key to a sound and safe phil- 
 osophy, is not attained by much book- 
 reading." 
 
 "What is this shelf marked off into 
 feet, inches and centimeters?" Conklin 
 asked after examining the library. 
 
 "That is Mr. Helot's five-foot book- 
 shelf," replied the Devil. "I measure 
 it carefully once a month to be sure 
 that it has not been altered by sudden 
 changes in the temperature, because if 
 it were shortened by even so much as a 
 millimeter, Mr. Helot might turn un- 
 easily in his bed, and be influenced to 
 begin a religious controversy in the 
 morning thro' ill humor: therefore I 
 
 103 
 
am solicitous : pseudo-scientific minds 
 must be measured with kid gloves." 
 
 "What a peculiar motto you have on 
 the wall over the book-case!" Conklin 
 remarked. "Did you intend it for the 
 general public or for yourself? I pre- 
 sume you hung it there to keep the bats 
 away." 
 
 "Read it aloud," responded Satan 
 with a strange smile. 
 
 "It is printed in old English, and at 
 first I could not decipher it. It runs as 
 follows : 
 'My purposes were good, though not my 
 
 style; 
 I meant to stir, not entertain. Carlyle/ 
 What is this on the other wall? 
 'It has been said that he who runs may 
 
 read; 
 Quoth I, take heed thou dost not trip 
 
 instead/ 
 You certainly delight in strange pro- 
 verbs, Mr. Devil. I shall have to think 
 them over more carefully when I get 
 home. Ah! 
 
 X04 
 
^ A useful thing in any age is iron; 
 But Fve had my day, so must pass out. 
 
 Lord Byron/ 
 Is the last a bit of irony?'' 
 
 "Just as you take it, Mr. Conklin. I 
 force interpretations upon nobody." 
 
 "That last one seems to be done by 
 hand. Did you draw it?" 
 
 "Byron did it, and signed it himself 
 after a little coercion on my part; he 
 was prepared for it, however. Should 
 you not like to look at some more 
 graphs? Many of them are autographs. 
 I keep them in this album. Sit down in 
 the morris chair and take it easy. I 
 made them write the truth about them- 
 selves in these couplets." 
 
 "You do possess prizes, Prince. Lis- 
 ten to this! 
 
 * Alive, I wrote but little decent verse — 
 / am Walt Whitman — most of it was 
 
 worse/ 
 
 Worse than what, Satan?" 
 "What comes after it?" 
 "Nothing." 
 
 105 
 
'Worse than nothing, of course. Did 
 you ever blow off fire-crackers on the 
 Fourth of July?" 
 
 'Tes, lots of them." 
 
 ''Then you know what punk is?" 
 
 "Yes, it is a soft stick made out of 
 camel's dung, intended to burn with bad 
 odor. What's the connection?" 
 
 "The connection is made when you 
 
 touch it, not before. That's enough for 
 
 Whitman. What's the (next couplet?" 
 
 ^' ^My mind was keew — / kept it tuned 
 
 with spirits; 
 
 At present I sing tunes with other 
 spirits/ 
 This looks like E, A. T. scribbled after 
 it. Who is E. A. T.?" 
 
 "He used to spell his name E. A. Poe; 
 but when he descended to our Circulus 
 Stultus, he felt ashamed when everyone 
 asked for his name, on account of the 
 connotations going with it; so I allowed 
 him to change it." 
 
 "To?" 
 
 "Exactly, only with an e on the end 
 
 xo6 
 
of it. I think E. A. T, much nicer than 
 D. R. I. N. K., do you not, Mr. Con- 
 klin?" 
 
 ^Tes, but—" 
 
 ^^But what?" 
 
 "I always thought that Poe was a 
 great writer. Why, the French people 
 rate him very highly." 
 
 '^The rates are pretty high in some 
 parts of France, surely. Yes, he jingled 
 well. Did you ever go on a sleigh-ride 
 in the cool winter?" 
 
 "Of course I have, often. I enjoyed 
 it, too. Why do you ask?" 
 
 "Then you are familiar with the sound 
 of sleigh-bells?" 
 
 "Surely." 
 
 "So was Poe. He contrived some cute 
 little tales too — Murders in the Rue 
 Morgue, the Gold Bug, Fall of the 
 House of Usher, etc. They will always 
 tarry — unfortunately. Did you ever 
 take opium? No? Then you can never 
 fully appreciate the beauties of Poe's 
 writings. I am told that between recita- 
 
 107 
 
tions he murmurs sadly to himself: ^I 
 
 could have done better!' Well?" 
 
 ^^ ^Mark well my name, 'twas spread by 
 
 foolish Rumor; 
 ^^ ^MARK well my name, 'twas spread 
 
 by foolish Rumor; 
 There is some catch to this couplet. I 
 can not guess the writer's name." 
 
 *'The first word gives it away. I 
 gave them all away to Cleopatra and she 
 read some of them and laughed a little 
 at first, but soon I noticed that she had 
 lost her appetite ; so I ordered an arsenic 
 tonic for her, and presented the books 
 to the spirits who have to work the 
 force-pumps. Read another one aloud." 
 
 "Here is an autograph which puzzles 
 me sorely: 
 ^Together we toiled up Parnassus' 
 
 mount; 
 But, trying to mefer, lost the lyric 
 
 fount/ 
 To whom might it refer?" 
 
 "Is there not another on the same 
 page, below? Read that." 
 
 io8 
 
^^ ^ Didst ever trip along a stony walk 
 
 And stumble when thy prose began to 
 talk?: 
 That's funny — I don't get next. Here 
 is still a third, which probably will re- 
 veal the person's identity: 
 ^ Didst ever swim without a fear of 
 
 drowning, 
 Or bake a cake without a fear of 
 
 Brown — ?' 
 Ha ha! Now I catch on. How clever! 
 But he didn't finish, Satan." 
 
 '^No, my dear sir, any more than he 
 finished anything. I have a great ad- 
 miration, somehow, nevertheless, for the 
 mighty nerve of such writers; nor am I 
 the only one; there are some people 
 who walk through literature with as 
 much power of discrimination as peas- 
 ants tramping down a paved street in 
 sabots have delicacy of tread." 
 
 ^^Do you pose as a critic, Satan, beside 
 all your other artistic accomplish- 
 ments?" asked Conklin wonderingly. 
 
 ^^Only one pose has any value what- 
 
 X09 
 
ever," replied his majesty without deign- 
 ing to answer the question, '^and that is 
 pur-pose. Without it a piece of writing 
 is like a piece of rotten meat in a refrig- 
 erator. With only it, however, no work 
 can be worthy of a place in high liter- 
 ature, because in addition there must be 
 thought and beautiful expression and 
 propriety. Who fails in part, fails in 
 part; and who fails wholly, wholly fails. 
 That's right, lay down the album, and 
 turn off the light. I want to tell you 
 about the spirits of this region, seeing 
 that they are the primary objects of our 
 study. 
 
 "You would be surprised to know how 
 various are the motives which have 
 actuated these selfish and pessimistic 
 ghosts in their cold water casting. The 
 majority did it out of jealousy, with 
 green-eyed egotism ; some, out of malice ; 
 some, out of cruelty; some, out of nar- 
 rowness of mind; some, out of a spirit 
 of revenge: — none of them evinced the 
 
 no 
 
sympathy for others which ought to be 
 first in a man's thoughts. 
 
 "Here is a special case: a young man 
 leaves the business in which he has been 
 prospering in order that he may satisfy 
 his highest aspirations by going into the 
 ministry and eventually touching with 
 healing fingers the needs of humanity; 
 but his relations, who have mercenary 
 minds, give him an icy douche: they, 
 being in the habit of criticizing every- 
 thing that is not like theirs, look at his 
 step from their own point of view and 
 imagine that he is seeking a life of com- 
 parative ease, and furthermore fear that 
 he, instead of bringing money to them 
 and their children, will be a burden; so 
 they, to whom money and show are 
 paramount, cluck at the young man. 
 Of course when he succeeds, they pat 
 him on the back, and even get down on 
 their knees before him if he happens to 
 fill a high position with a good salary 
 attached to it, and say to him proudly: 
 ^I told you so.' But the gossip which 
 
 zzx 
 
they have rolled about fails not to bring 
 them down into this icy region for cor- 
 rection. Did I tell you what the chief 
 of our mottoes is? No? That which 
 is not right must he made so, I am glad 
 that you like it. In fact, everybody 
 does, even the wretched souls themselves, 
 since evil-doers can not be happy until 
 they become straightened; and most of 
 them realize it. They say that Obstinacy 
 in a bad purpose disappears before the 
 right master. 
 
 "Do you know, Mr. Conklin, in spite 
 of the vast business that I do and the 
 great success I have in carrying out 
 my ends, I am often dragged toward the 
 precipice of pessimism and the cynical 
 chasms. It is thus: one can not judge 
 men until one knows how to study mo- 
 tives, without which no sane actions are 
 attempted ; yet the very study and under- 
 standing of people and their motives 
 opens one's eyes to the horrors of selfish 
 egotism and jealousy which fill the 
 world from end to end. One sole 
 
 xxa 
 
thought keeps me from the gloomy 
 paths: Lofty ambitions ride upon the 
 waves: — with it I console myself and 
 remain cheerful. 
 
 ^^Of course the case I cited to you is 
 only one in a million. It would take too 
 long to enumerate them all; besides I 
 am not a Jesuit. Is there anything spe- 
 cial that you would like to inquire 
 about?" 
 
 ^Why, yes. What percent of the 
 spirits here in the rain are men?" 
 
 "About seventy-five percent, Mr. Con- 
 klin." 
 
 "And what percent are women?" 
 
 "Seventy-five percent." 
 
 "That is impossible, Satan. In our 
 arithmetic we learn that one hundred 
 percent is the limit that any number can 
 reach." 
 
 "Granted, my dear sir, but it takes 
 a hundred and fifty percent of people 
 like these to make a complement!" 
 
 There came a long pause. Conklin's 
 mind was broadening out like an ex- 
 
 X13 
 
panded balloon, and his thoughts came 
 thick and fast. "Do you never sleep?" 
 he asked suddenly, looking up at Satan, 
 whose pondering head rested upon his 
 hands — and he was surprised to notice 
 that instead of being rude and coarse 
 with crooked claws, Satan^s hands had 
 much refinement and delicacy, together 
 with a nervous strength which was made 
 evident by the showing of the cords 
 upon the backs; they seemed to be 
 homes of thought. 
 
 ''I try to keep regular hours," was the 
 answer, "because only by such a routine 
 can I accomplish my many tasks. How- 
 ever, like a doctor I am always ready 
 for a call, even in the dead of night. 
 The slightest telephathic message arouses 
 me from slumber; but usually only a 
 short answer is necessary, and after 
 replying I go to sleep again. You see, I 
 have highly organized my work, which 
 could never be done otherwise; my 
 assistants take charge of all the details, 
 like the assistants of a city pastor. 
 
 "4 
 
Nevertheless, I take a personal interest 
 in every one of these poor devils who 
 are compelled to live with me in order 
 to learn and be straightened, although 
 they do not realize it, and thus an extra 
 strain is brought upon my mind. 
 
 ''For instance, I often call a spirit in 
 here to talk with it in a fatherly way 
 and remonstrate with its wickedness. 
 In this manner I have wonderful oppor- 
 tunities for the best influence — much 
 more than most ministers have, who 
 neither dare nor are able to touch a 
 wealthy parishioner on the shoulder and 
 say privately to him or her that he or 
 she would do well to mend his ways — or 
 hers. The ministry on the earth is get- 
 ting to be a social custom, of which the 
 tea-pot is the greatest instrument. What 
 a beautiful thing it is that social inter- 
 course leads to society! — thereby much 
 business is turned in my direction. 
 
 "However much I lament over the fol- 
 lies and the corrections of these miserable 
 souls, Conklin, I am always glad to wel- 
 
 "5 
 
come them. I suppose that like human 
 beings I take a delight in doing a big 
 business. Complete satisfaction is as far 
 from the mind of a business man as of 
 an idealist — extremes have many simi- 
 larities, did you ever notice that, sir? 
 As I was saying, I call the shades in 
 here one at a time and discuss their situ- 
 ation with them. Some of them are 
 badly frightened, though many are bold 
 and brazen; the former I treat with the 
 utmost kindness, but to the latter I am 
 stern and severe. Some people think 
 that when you show a little sympathy it 
 is a signal to let loose and take advan- 
 tage of you. Some again are impression- 
 able and easy to teach, while others are 
 sullen and morose, so thoroughly satur- 
 ated with selfishness and cynicism that 
 mere argument avails nothing. It 
 really hurts me to send the sensitive out 
 in the rain again; but the hardened 
 spirits I drive out with pleasure." 
 The visitor gazed at Satan in amaze- 
 
 1x6 
 
ment. "You are not half so black as 
 you have been painted!" he cried. 
 
 "No," replied the Devil sadly, "I am 
 not what I appear. Most people fancy 
 that I live only to tempt and to destroy; 
 they have been grossly deceived by 
 imaginative writers who gained fame 
 and wordly goods by picturing me as 
 the chief of wicked devils whose pur- 
 pose is to lead good man astray, but such 
 is their own invention. I am no fallen 
 angel, but the creation of the mind of 
 man. The Hebrews were great people 
 for devils, perhaps because they had and 
 saw more evil in themselves than other 
 races. If you read the Apocrypha you 
 will find many strange tales and stories 
 about devils of all kinds; then the old 
 church fathers made still more of them 
 in order to frighten the poor people into 
 obedience, and throughout the middle 
 ages their influence was felt; the classic 
 work on me is of course Spillton^s Paro' 
 dice Lost, in which thrilling scenes fol- 
 low one another like films of the cine- 
 
 117 
 
matograph, but which like most dull 
 moving picture shows can not be relied 
 upon; Luther fathered whole batches of 
 our imps; Calvin sired others; and Cot- 
 ton Matter and Jonathan Edwards kept 
 the ball a-rolling. I myself was born 
 of Animism and Spiritism, as you would 
 discover by perusing the thing you 
 thought a gun aimed at you by friend 
 Calvin. No, I am not by any means a 
 prince of wickedness, but a king of cor- 
 rection, developed into my full paternity, 
 as I have told you, by the Hebrews and 
 their religious descendants. As is the 
 case with other reformers, I suffer abuse 
 and reviling at the hands not merely of 
 those who need reformation yet wish it 
 not but also of the neutrals who don't 
 know which way to turn and especially 
 fear to go ahead. If I appear cruel it 
 is because I have become case-hardened 
 by contact with so many evil-doers." 
 
 "Then you do not believe in sin in the 
 abstract?" Conklin asked with a brighter 
 countenance. 
 
 1x8 
 
"Not in the abstract, but in the ab- 
 straction, — are you not familiar with 
 the eighth commandment? I believe as 
 did the man who, having been asked the 
 same question by a neighbor who hap- 
 pened to be a crooked and unprincipled 
 contractor and bridge-builder, answered, 
 ^No, but I do believe in sin in the con- 
 crete!' " 
 
 Conklin wanted to laugh but he didn't 
 dare to, so he coughed into his handker- 
 chief instead. 
 
 "You must have caught cold, my dear 
 fellow," cried Satan with concern. 
 "Will you not take some quinine?" 
 
 "If you had offered me something hot 
 I would have said yes," Conklin replied. 
 "I am a Scotchman, you know." 
 
 "Indeed. How long?" 
 
 "Forty-six years." 
 
 "Then you are old enough to know 
 your own mind. I will have something 
 to your liking served immediately, only 
 never say that I tempted you, for that is 
 against my principles. Temptations 
 
 XX9 
 
arise in man's own desires, Mr. Conklin, 
 when he comes into contact with things 
 that look good to him. Then, after he 
 has yielded to temptation, he comes into 
 contact with me, if he has done serious 
 injury, in order to be corrected. We 
 can not alter the past, but we can at least 
 look out for the future." 
 
 Just then an inner door, which Con- 
 klin had not noticed, flew open, and an 
 imp entered bearing a tray on which sat 
 two bottles of Scotch and some cakes. 
 The angel of Satan set the tray down 
 upon the central table, and was about to 
 go out when his master rebuked him. 
 
 "Mr. Conklin, I should like you to 
 meet Geza, one of my many assistants. 
 His mother was Eve and his father was 
 a heavenly angel. He is all to the good. 
 He used to ascend to visit Luther, who 
 had a strange predilection for the imps 
 of darkness. You remember how he 
 threw an ink-well at one little devil that 
 he had been playing with. Luther had a 
 very changeable and uncertain nature. 
 
 120 
 
as the peasants of Germany discovered, 
 and would as soon turn on a friend as 
 on an enemy. 
 
 "There is a story about Luther and 
 my Geza which has never been pub- 
 lished. One day when Luther was play- 
 ing on his clavier, after having tired of 
 his lute, Geza happened to come in. 
 He came up close behind the great re- 
 former, and when the latter turned to 
 the right to play the ride of Walkurie 
 on the upper notes Geza banged with all 
 his might on one of the bass keys. 
 Luther bent over his great head with 
 that phlegmatic-excitable expression 
 common to Dutchmen, and, catching 
 sight of the invisible imp as he fled 
 around the corner, cried angrily, ^That 
 was a Hell of a note!' It was really a 
 bass trick, but I enjoyed it immensely. 
 Run, Geza." 
 
 "That certainly was funny," Conklin 
 remarked, wiping away the tears from 
 his eyes. "This Scotch is hot, and it's 
 
 lai 
 
good! Say, Satan, do you think there 
 is any harm in this?" 
 
 ^^If you thought there was harm in it 
 you would not have taken it, would you? 
 No, surely not. A man of your morals 
 and your judgment ought to be able to 
 decide what is right and what is not. 
 However, whiskey is hardly the key to 
 health, happiness and altruism; it is a 
 master-key only in that it is more master 
 than servant ; but the thing that hurts me 
 the most is the enormous adulteration of 
 liquors which passes unnoticed by the 
 federal government, probably because 
 the tax on impure liquor looks the same 
 as the tax on pure. What a remarkable 
 thing and just that the poor man gets the 
 worst of everything! — poisonous drink, 
 poisonous food, and poisonous air! Let 
 us drink, Mr. Conklin, to the health of 
 the poor man — God bless him. I see, 
 brother, that you prefer whiskey-toast 
 to milk-toast, like all patriotic men of 
 your race. Have another?" 
 
 ^*No, thank you, not just now. I be- 
 
 xaa 
 
lieve in drinking only in a measure, Mr. 
 Devil." 
 
 ^^If you wish, then, I'll have Geza 
 bring you a gallon can." 
 
 ^^Don't bother — I only want to wet 
 my gills. It's strange that you can't hear 
 the rain in here." 
 
 "Not so strange after all, my dear 
 man : I arranged it so. Once in a while 
 I have Geza place a large sheet of gal- 
 vanized iron over the den, whenever I 
 want to ponder over the days of my 
 childhood and become sentimental ; then, 
 you see, it reminds me of the flood — the 
 great flood of '00. What a terrible time 
 that was! Lots of poor people were 
 drowned, but many were saved, in spite 
 of the reports. The associated press got 
 the cablegram wrong; and, after the 
 news once traveled that Noah and his 
 family were the only ones saved, Noah, 
 who was a young Morgan, felt so com- 
 plimented that he bought up the press 
 and all contemporary literature in order 
 to keep the advertisement. If I remem- 
 
 123 
 
ber rightly, he set up a tailor shop in 
 the town of Arrahrat and sold small- 
 clothes to measure; and they said he did 
 a thriving business; he would have be- 
 come a pawnbroker and put articles up 
 the spout for poor people and charged 
 them anywhere from ten to twenty per- 
 cent a month, but not only were there 
 no articles left after the deluge to pawn, 
 but also he did not like to be reminded 
 of the rain. There is a report that when 
 the ark-lights went out one night on 
 their journey to the mountain-top Noah 
 picked the pockets — I mean the noses — 
 no I means the ears of half his compan- 
 ions, but I can not believe that of him. 
 The fact is, however, that he did charge 
 the elephants double price for checking 
 their trunks, and when they kicked 
 about it he put mice under their feet. 
 Thus graft began. Noah was some- 
 thing of a politician, too : one day he ran 
 for governor when the raft went in the 
 wrong direction, on the famous plank, 
 124 
 
'E pluribus unus/ What are you writ- 
 ing in your notebook, Mr. Conklin?" 
 
 "I am taking down what you have 
 have been saying about Noah and the 
 flood, in order that I may tell it to my 
 Sunday-school class. You surely have 
 no objections?" 
 
 "My only objection is that you might 
 also stuff their tender minds so full of 
 old-fashioned dope — I, the origin of sin, 
 etc. — that they would not know which 
 way to walk in order to find Sunday." 
 
 "Well, what would you teach them?" 
 
 "I would do the way many modern 
 psychologists do — fill them up with re- 
 actions and watch them scrape the mud 
 off their brains with the hope of discov- 
 ering where they are; in other words, I 
 would stick pins into them and laugh 
 when they jump." 
 
 Conklin looked horrified. "Would 
 you never tell them the truth?" 
 
 "Who knows the truth? Who would 
 dare to tell it to a Sunday-school class 
 or a church full of prunes if he did know 
 
 125 
 
it? How the old geezers force worm- 
 eaten relics of antiquity down the throats 
 of the young, and hang like grim death 
 to the coat-tails of the world so that 
 they can kick it full of holes whenever 
 they feel inclined! Did you know that 
 many so-called atheists get that way be- 
 cause they were taught in their early 
 days things which stuck crosswise in 
 their gizzard when they came to matur- 
 ity? — praying for material objects, for 
 instance; the idea that God has the qual- 
 ities of a man, etc. When one does not 
 know, let him say frankly that he does 
 not know; if he must prattle, prattle 
 his puerile speculations to mud-turtles. 
 Many systematic philosophers, preachers 
 and teachers are serving time with me 
 for having wasted life chewing the rag 
 over things about which they knew noth- 
 ing; the case would not be half so bad 
 had they not shoved their adulterated 
 dope on the unwitting public. 
 
 "You will be interested in hearing 
 about the wonderful case of the spirit 
 
 X26 
 
of John Dough. He had made a fool of 
 himself while alive by writing specula- 
 tive philosophy simply to make a big 
 reputation regardless of the ill effects of 
 his doings upon the multitude. The other 
 day I received a telepham from Brother 
 Beelzebub in his ofBce. It ran thus: 
 ^One of our most noted spirits is raving. 
 What shall I do? Signed Beelzie.* I 
 telephammed back : What is the nature 
 of his madness?' ^Keeps repeating 
 ^Whingwhing bosk bosk kalgie bum!''' 
 came the reply. I laughed so hard that 
 I almost split, and for days I snickered 
 and laughed to myself when the humor 
 of it struck me. I wired right back: 
 ^Give him a certificate of release and 
 send him on his way happy.' Do you 
 know what the poor devil said? ^The 
 arguments of speculative philosophy be 
 damned!' I don't blame Beelzie for not 
 having understood it because it is a lan- 
 guage known only to those who have 
 specialized in Logic and Logic's brood 
 — Ruemaniac, its name." 
 
 127 
 
"I am rather surprised to hear this," 
 said Conklin, wrinkling up his eyebrows. 
 "As for me myself, I have always been 
 extremely interested in Philosophy; 
 and I have heard it said that no man 
 can be a great thinker unless he knows 
 the history of systematic philosophy at 
 his fingers' ends." 
 
 Satan sighed. "Such is, unfortun- 
 ately, the common opinion of people 
 who have studied it themselves and are 
 able to sling it about with some fuss. 
 Let me ask you a question, Mr. Conklin, 
 which I know you will answer sincerely : 
 How much did you ever get out of 
 your study of other men's technical, 
 philosophical systems?" 
 
 "Not very much," answered Conklin 
 opening his eyes wide and then closing 
 them in order to think better. 
 
 "Did you ever peek inside of a dark 
 whiskey bottle only to find nothing 
 there? Of course — we all have; yet we 
 wouldn't have been satisfied unless we 
 had examined the bottle. It is just so 
 
 X28 
 
with systematic philosophy: it begins 
 with nothing, uses a language that no- 
 body understands, and ends where it 
 began. The good one receives from it 
 is first a direction of the thoughts along 
 serious directions, and secondly the exer- 
 cise the brain gets from running around 
 dark corners after something that is not 
 there. The thinking man who works on 
 the railroad and solves his problems does 
 more than the systematizer whose name 
 appears on the pay-roll of fame. You 
 must be tired by this time. Brother Con- 
 klin. Should you not like to sleep? 
 Geza, show Mr. Conklin to his bedroom, 
 and place a brand-new bottle of Scotch 
 beside the bed, so that if he should hap- 
 pen to awake during the night he will 
 have the spirits of darkness near by 
 to comfort him. Good-night, brother, 
 sleep well." 
 
 129 
 
J 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Circus Classicus 
 
 AMES CONKLIN was aroused in 
 the morning, after a beautiful and 
 restful slumber, by the imp Geza, who 
 touched him lightly on the shoulder and 
 told him that if he desired he could have 
 a cold shower by stepping out-of-doors 
 by the back way; but he shook his head 
 at the thought of running through the 
 icy rain like a guilty spirit, took a wee 
 nippie, and hastened to clothe himself. 
 Then he tackled the steaming breakfast 
 which Geza brought, wondering all the 
 time that he ate, how under the earth it 
 had been prepared. He enjoyed it im- 
 mensely. 
 
 "Hello, Geza!" he cried. "Where did 
 this delicious steak come from?" 
 
 "From Maine, sir. It is a mees-steak. 
 Do you not like it, sir?" 
 
 130 
 
"Splendid! Where is the Devil?" 
 
 "He is out on the bank waiting for 
 you, sir. He said that when you were 
 ready — no hurry, sir — you should come 
 out through the front door." 
 
 Sure enough, When Conklin arrived 
 at the entrance, there stood the Hell- 
 master with two umbrellas in his hand, 
 which he put down in order to assist 
 Conklin with his outer garments. 
 
 "I know that you had a good sleep," 
 said he. "Now you are in much better 
 condition for traveling farther down. I 
 just sent to Charon a telepham inform- 
 ing him that he must stop at our story 
 and wait on us." 
 
 "How it does rain!" Conklin ex- 
 claimed as they stepped outside. "Does 
 it never let up?" Evidently he had half 
 expected to find it clear in the morning. 
 
 "Never, unless the plumbing gets out 
 of order, in which case we summon the 
 imps of torture and corral the' spirits 
 into the icy lakes, where they must re- 
 main until the repairs are completed by 
 the plumbers." ^3, 
 
^Then do they hand in their bills?" 
 ^^Ha ha! that is a good joke. No, 
 when they descend into our institution 
 they leave their bills and wills above to 
 cause a peck of trouble. Some of the 
 crookedest of the bunch go plumb crazy 
 from the awful heat to which we subject 
 them; but the experimenters soon get a 
 line on them and fix them up. Be care- 
 ful with your umbrella — you nearly put 
 my eye out. You will pardon me for not 
 having a canopy for you, will you not, 
 Mr. Conklin? I thought that you pre- 
 ferred to rough it, having been a soldier 
 in the Spanish war, where soldiers were 
 treated like criminals and all beef was 
 corrupted; and besides" — here Satan 
 whispered in James's ear after taking 
 out the plug with his left hand — "we do 
 not like the word canopy — it sounds 
 like — " 
 
 At that instant a huge, horrid-looking 
 bird flew close to their umbrellas and 
 gave a grating cry. 
 
 X3a 
 
"What was that?" cried Conklin with 
 a start and a shudder. 
 
 "Oh, that is the shade of the Prude 
 Bird. It was sired by Immodesty and 
 mired by Curiosity; it has tempted many 
 souls into Hell, especially the young 
 and tender." 
 
 Neither spoke until they had arrived 
 at the 'elevator station where they found 
 Charon leaning up against the corner of 
 the door reading a newspaper. He 
 looked up when he heard their steps 
 and tried in vain to hide the sheet. 
 
 "What in Sam Hill are you doing 
 with that thing?" Satan shouted in a 
 rage. The whole of Hell shook from 
 the vibrations, thunders pealed on the 
 left, and green lightnings shot through 
 the air. The reconstructed boy trembled 
 like an aspen leaf, and his eyes wheeled 
 around toward each other, so frightened 
 were they. 
 
 "I-I-I am-m-m r-r-read-ding-g ab- 
 bout-t th-the Mex-xic-c-an horrors, the 
 
 X33 
 
European War, and the Ne Ork under- 
 world, Sir," he stammered out 
 
 The Dark Prince waved his hand 
 sharply toward the lever of the 'elevator. 
 "Get in there quick and start her up. 
 Our time is precious." 
 
 Charron hung his head from shame 
 and took his position without delay; he 
 closed the door when the travelers were 
 safely esconced on the soft seat; and 
 turned on the power. The 'elevator shot 
 downward even more rapidly than be- 
 fore, but now the human visitor had 
 become somewhat accustomed to its 
 motion. 
 
 "You will find it brighter in the Circus 
 Classicus than in the circus we just left," 
 said Satan, "since we have an artificial 
 sun, and moon, and stars overhead. Per- 
 haps you had better shade your eyes 
 when you step out, for I would not have 
 you return to the earth with your eye- 
 sight impaired." 
 
 "What is this next circle — the Circus 
 Classicus, did you say?" 
 
 134 
 
^^It is the Classy Club, just as its name 
 denotes. It is peopled with spirits who, 
 while they lived, tried to be superior to 
 others in social ways, snubbing their 
 poorer fellows for one superficial reason 
 or another. Naturally they come from 
 all countries and climes; there are 
 plenty of representatives from the whole 
 country in spite of the extreme youthful- 
 ness of the nation and its democratic 
 principles." 
 
 "Do you mean that Christians come 
 here?" demanded Conklin in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "Who said that Christians come here? 
 No true Christian comes here, for such 
 not only never harm others, but what- 
 ever they have whether money, time, or 
 talent — they give freely and lovingly to 
 their fellow men in a way that will ben- 
 efit them. Why should they come here? 
 The spirits I am speaking about put on 
 false airs in order to let their neighbors 
 feel that they, themselves would-be aris- 
 tocrats, belong to a superior class. They 
 
 135 
 
have done great evil, because they stifled 
 their own better qualities to begin with, 
 and then gave needless ojffense and irri- 
 tation to others, thus causing superficial 
 imitation, if not bitter jealousy, and 
 either hatred of all things that smack of 
 aristocracy or love of them: hence a 
 general perversion of time and thought, 
 and much nonsense." 
 
 "Then you do not believe in aristoc- 
 racy?" 
 
 "Of course I do — aristocracy of char- 
 acter, which is the only kind where there 
 is good, better and best. Most aristoc- 
 racies are all bad, and many are rotten." 
 
 "Yet — are you, the Prince of Devils, 
 not an aristocrat?" 
 
 "No, sir: I am a Plutocrat!" an- 
 swered Satan sharply. He whipped his 
 legs with his tail nervously for a minute, 
 and then he continued in a much calmer 
 manner: "I think we had better change 
 the subject, Conklin." 
 
 But his visitor had no desire to arouse 
 a contention of any kind. He had come 
 
 X36 
 
to observe, not to argue; and besides 
 he saw the wicked tail still swinging 
 viciously, and its point was sharp. So he 
 settled down on the velvet and went to 
 sleep. 
 
 When he awoke, he found himself 
 still lying on the bench in the 'elevator, 
 all alone with Charon, who stood peer- 
 ing at him with his flaming eyes, which 
 now turned furiously away from each 
 other as if they had been quarreling; the 
 old boy's fetid breath seemed worse 
 than ever, in spite of the many charcoal 
 tablets he had swallowed since morning 
 at his master's directions. 
 
 "Turn your head toward the door, 
 Charron, just — I think you have a won- 
 derful profile — that's it — keep it that 
 way! How sunny it is! I fancied for 
 the moment I was back in a Ne Ork 
 'elevator, just. Where is Satan?" 
 
 "He went out to stop a disturbance, 
 sir, and left word for me to stay here 
 without making any noise until you 
 should wake up, sir." 
 
 137 
 
'What was the disturbance?" 
 'Why, one of the new arrivals tried to 
 make Satan's sun stand still, and the 
 crowd quit work to see the fun." 
 'Who was this new arrival?" 
 "A Mellican millionaire, sir." 
 "Are you familiar with his name?" 
 "Yes, sir, because I happened to hear 
 my master shout it when he flew out of 
 the 'elevator — Johannus Jacobus Astrol- 
 ogus. Then I heard Satan ask him 
 whether he took the sun for a virgin or 
 just wanted to try his hand against all 
 Hell. I didn't catch the answer, sir, 
 but I did get the rest of it, and I had to 
 stop up my ears, sir, it was so horrible!" 
 James squirmed in his seat and cov- 
 ered his eyes with his hands. Then he 
 reached into his pocket and took out a 
 dime, which he held out to Charon. 
 
 "No thank you, sir," said Charron 
 much to Conklin's surprise, who was 
 evidently in the habit of giving tips in 
 return for personal attentions. "Master 
 does not allow me to receive money 
 
 138 
 
from his customers. Some of them have 
 offered me as much as ten billion dol- 
 lars, would you believe it, sir; but I care 
 not for money — I work for love — master 
 treats me kindly, sir; and I prefer a 
 kind word to all the treasures of Mam- 
 mon. Ten cents, sir? Why, that 
 wouldn't buy an ice-cream soda down 
 here! Satan said you might walk around 
 until he came back, or if you preferred 
 you could sit on that cushion, which I 
 will put out of doors for you, sir." 
 
 Conklin dropped the dime absent- 
 mindedly, and was very much surprised 
 to see a burning hand reach up from the 
 'elevator floor, receive the coin in its 
 grasp, and consume it utterly with sul- 
 furious flames; then the hand dis- 
 appeared whence it came, and nothing 
 was left of either (it was a right hand) 
 but a noisome odor of brimstone. 
 
 '^Did you see that?" he shouted to 
 Charon. 
 
 '^See what?" replied the latter with 
 indifference. 
 
 X39 
 
"That hand! Where did it come 
 from?" 
 
 "Most likely from the Mosaic on the 
 floor. These Jews are great grabbers. 
 But where will you wait for Satan, here 
 on the cushion by the elevator wall or 
 walking around the circle? Come, sir, 
 I must be going." 
 
 "Pardon me — I was startled. Why, 
 I'll sit on the cushion, if if s the same to 
 you." 
 
 "Surely. Here you are, sir. Master 
 will return before long," and with that 
 he closed the door and buzzed upward 
 faster than lightning. 
 
 Meanwhile Conklin took his seat out- 
 side. He had to shade his eyes on ac- 
 count of the bright light which came 
 from the artificial sun. Feeling tired 
 from his previous exertions, which his 
 recent slumbers had not been sufficient 
 to counteract entirely, he laid his head 
 upon one hand and fell fast asleep. 
 
 Soon Satan returned. "Hell-o, Con- 
 klin!" he cried cheerfully, in the man- 
 
 140 
 
ner of one who has accomplished well 
 his task. "Come, wake up before I 
 have to stick you with my tail!" 
 
 The Hell-visitor came to his senses in 
 an instant. "The Devil of a man you'd 
 be to stick your visitors and injure your 
 patronage!" he answered, tit for tat. 
 "Do you take me for a pin-cushion? 
 Wait until I have chosen your mansion 
 for my home. Whereto now, your 
 majesty?" 
 
 "Do you see that group of spirits oS 
 in the distance? We shall commence 
 with them. Well, what do you think of 
 our sun?" 
 
 "Great stuff. Devil. At first I almost 
 fanced it was the real thing." 
 
 "So do many of our workmen until 
 they discover me in the neighborhood: 
 then they come to with a start, just as 
 you did — ha!" 
 
 "Who are those spirits ahead? They 
 appear to be digging something from 
 the ground with shovels." 
 
 "They are digging, and pretty lively, 
 
 X4X 
 
too. See the imps with whips? They 
 don't allow any delay — against the rules 
 of our bosses. Did you ask me who 
 those spirits are? They are for the most 
 part Bawdway and Pipth Avenue mil- 
 lionaires — I mean they were. Now they 
 are peons digging for dear life. It's the 
 worst punishment imaginable for them. 
 They would gladly change places with 
 any of the others, except perhaps those 
 down stairs; but we give them no 
 favors.'' 
 
 James's eyes stuck out again when he 
 heard this, and he staggered. "P-pard- 
 don m-me," he stammered, pinching his 
 legs in order to regain control of him- 
 self, "but it came suddenly. Why, we 
 poor devils on earth look up to those 
 men as if they were gods, and worship 
 them. To tell the truth — if you will 
 not repeat it — I think it's a deuced good 
 thing! But all the millionaires don't 
 come here to work, do they?" 
 
 "No indeed, not any more than the 
 whole of any so-called class. Many rich 
 
 X42 
 
men are better than thousands of people 
 with little or no money; and a few of 
 them are wonderful men. Do you see 
 that fellow just swinging the pick over 
 his shoulder? He is an interesting char- 
 acter, ril call him — I wouldn't waste 
 a telepham on him." 
 
 At the snap of the Demon's tail the 
 whole gang threw down their picks and 
 shovels and commenced to rub their 
 hands. 
 
 "Hey, you!" shouted the master an- 
 grily, "do you think it's noon? Not on 
 your sweet life, nor ever will be down 
 here for you. Look for your shadows, 
 if you don't believe me. Ha ha! Why, 
 you are all shadow! Should you like 
 to exchange shifts with your dear com- 
 rades in the Circus Horri — " 
 
 The diggers did not wait for him to 
 finish his sentence, but seized their im- 
 plements and began to work so fast that 
 the whips of their correctors hit the air 
 above their backs. 
 
 "That's better, boys," laughed Satan. 
 
 143 
 
'^Rustle Sagebusch, you lay down your 
 pick and come here to me." 
 
 The spirit addressed did as he was 
 bid, and trembling from fear approached 
 the travelers. He could not endure the 
 curious gaze which Conklin played up- 
 on him as if trying to remember where 
 he had seen him before, but dropped 
 his eyes and stood like a culprit. 
 
 "Why were you sent here to the lower 
 regions, Rustle Sagebusch?" demanded 
 the Devil with no gentle voice. 
 
 "I-I-I — because of my generosity," 
 replied the shade after a moment's hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 "All right. Now go back to your 
 work, and if I have occasion to correct 
 you again you'll take your chances in 
 the circle that I do not need to mention, 
 sirrah. Mr. Conklin does not care to 
 speak to a peon of your class, either. 
 Go! Pardon me for a little roughness, 
 Brother Conklin. That man is a fake! 
 
 "He belongs to the same class as a 
 friend of mine who, having been prom- 
 
 X44 
 
inent in his primary life on earth, started 
 upwards by mistake when he turned up 
 his toes. The gate-keeper saw him com- 
 ing up the hill, and had his record in 
 hand when my friend, whose name I 
 will not divulge, arrived; so, having the 
 facts in black and white, he said to my 
 friend that the balance of his account 
 was on the debit side, and told him to go 
 to Hell. It was a shock to him, of 
 course, but he should have known better 
 than start off in the wrong direction." 
 
 Conklin laughed; but when he saw 
 tears of sorrow drop down Satan's cheek 
 he burst out crying. 
 
 'There, there 1" said Satan softly, 
 "don't cry, — take it easy. Some day 
 these rich people will wake up to their 
 responsibilities before they come down 
 here, and then perhaps they won't have 
 to come down. It's a lucky thing we 
 have something to look forward to. Did 
 you notice what these shadows are work- 
 ing on? They are digging a sewer 
 through which to run off, when com- 
 
 «45 
 
pleted, the impurities that drop from 
 these — er — peons, these correctees." 
 
 *^Do you have no woman suffrage here, 
 Satan? I see none toiling on the sewer." 
 
 "Sure we do. Did you imagine that 
 we would make the poor men suffer and 
 not the women? As a rule they are to 
 blame for their husbands' tendencies 
 toward superficial show and aristocratic 
 bearing. What do you think Mr. Tom, 
 Dick or Harry would care for style if 
 his wife did not drive him to it in order 
 to give her a social standing above some 
 other poor — of misery? We give the 
 women plenty to do, all right, all right 
 — they scrub floors and do divers dirty 
 work in the mud-holes. We have only 
 one shift for day and night, too, in these 
 regions. However, these things can not 
 be very interesting to you. Let's come 
 over to the races." 
 
 "Do you have races down here?" 
 
 "Sure we do. Having been somewhat 
 of a high-flyer myself in my early days, 
 I like to combine correction with sport 
 
 146 
 
whenever feasible. This way, please." 
 Like old chums they sauntered across 
 the fields arm in arm; and Conklin lis- 
 tened attentively while the Reformer 
 described the methods and ideals of the 
 Circus Classicus. Here at least there 
 was need for neither fur-coat nor asbes- 
 tos covering, although an umbrella 
 might have served as a protection against 
 the rays of the artificial sun; but, since 
 Conklin found a pair of blue spectacles 
 in his pocket and put them on to shade 
 his eyes, he minded not the heat, which 
 after the torrid flames of the Circus 
 Maximus, seemed warm and pleasant 
 like a beautiful day in June. 
 
 "I felt obliged to arrange at least one 
 spot cozy and agreeable," the Devil re- 
 marked. ^'It serves a double purpose: 
 not only can I come here and lie on my 
 back on the grass and enjoy the sun-light 
 while I ponder over my problems and 
 muse about the past, but the spirits are 
 reminded of the beautiful world they 
 left, so that first they mourn, and then 
 
 «47 
 
bemoan the misuse they made of their 
 earthly time and station. Stirring the 
 emotions is a great factor in correction." 
 
 'What is that great thing ahead that 
 looks like a stadium?" demanded James. 
 
 "It is a stadium. There are great 
 numbers of them scattered thro' the cir- 
 cus, and this is Number I." 
 
 "What is the tall structure that looks 
 like a tower off to the right of the 
 stadium?" 
 
 "That is my private observation tower, 
 whence I obtain a splendid view of the 
 whole proceedings; thither we are now 
 proceeding." 
 
 When they came to the tower, an imp 
 wearing a buttoned uniform opened 
 wide the door and bowed low until they 
 had entered; then another angel ushered 
 them into the 'elevator and carried them 
 to the top in a trice. 
 
 "Will you kindly explain to me, 
 Satan," asked James in a low voice, 
 "why it is that you dress some of the 
 imps but leave the spirits bare?" 
 
 X4B 
 
"With much pleasure," replied the 
 Prince of Sports as he motioned his vis- 
 itor into an easy chair by the railing, 
 "You see, the special service imps must 
 be well dressed for the looks of things, 
 v^hereas the correction-helpers, such as 
 you have seen v^ith pitchforks, vv^hips, 
 et cetera, could not accomplish well 
 their tasks if they wore clothing. You 
 know how it is yourself: when you are 
 all rigged up in your Sunday go-to- 
 meeting garments, you naturally avoid 
 anything that smacks of manual labor as 
 a cat avoids dying on the front doorstep. 
 Now the spirits who come here from the 
 upper world for reform have suffered 
 eclipse of the peepers during life-time 
 on account of the superficial coverings 
 over everything they saw. Just for an 
 easy, simple example in a physical way: 
 they see a foot — a neat, trim, well- 
 dressed foot — which pleases their optics 
 and makes them fancy that a nice foot 
 has an absolute value far up in the thou- 
 sands; remove the leathern covering, 
 
 Z49 
 
and what do you discover? a flabby 
 piece of stinking flesh adorned with 
 corns, onions and other vegetables; but 
 they have no means of knowing that, so 
 they depart filled with false admiration. 
 Again : we are ' at a reception : the 
 beautiful dames stand at the door and 
 receive, with the aid of a gentleman or 
 two, the fine looking specimens of 
 humanity that pass through: ^Great 
 stuff!* you whisper excitedly as one after 
 another they absorb the lime-light and 
 charm the beholders; but strip them in 
 their chambres and what do you find? 
 vulgar masses of fat or lean surmounted 
 by a head that might have been made 
 in a carpenter's shop and finished in the 
 paint- or dye-house, and tonsorial par- 
 lors. In other words, appearances de- 
 ceive, and reality is eclipsed by the 
 outward show, — umbra, numbra, and 
 penumbra. 
 
 "Here, however, the case is different, 
 Mr. Conklin: each spirit, whether male 
 or female, stands forth as he really is, 
 
 ISO 
 
and not only can we perceive at a glance 
 just what is there and what is not, but 
 they themselves behold the naked truth 
 about themselves and their acquaintances 
 for the first time. Thus wisdom gradu- 
 ally usurps the place which blindness 
 formerly held." 
 
 *'I am glad you explained it to me, 
 Satan," said Conklin frankly, ^^because 
 although I said nothing about it, when I 
 first saw the naked spirits I was some- 
 what jarred." 
 
 "Jars are good when the cover is 
 tight," returned the Devil with an 
 amused smile. "I knew that you had a 
 proper control over yourself, else I 
 would not have brought you down. Of 
 course these spirits feel no shame on ac- 
 count of the nakedness itself, for the 
 very reason that they have no passion; 
 their shame comes from seeing the 
 reality. 
 
 "While we are talking we are missing 
 part of the performance. Brother James. 
 The Hippodrome is the act today. Do 
 
 15X 
 
you see those souls riding around the 
 ring at a furious speed?" 
 
 "Yes, and I wondered what they were 
 doing before you called my attention to 
 them. Are they really indulging in 
 sport, or is there some correction con- 
 nected with it?" 
 
 "I should say so," answered the other 
 eagerly. "The pleasure that comes from 
 the sport end of it is ours — mine and the 
 imps' ; whereas the other side is theirs. 
 
 "Listen: the imps provide a selected 
 number of hobby-horses that go like the 
 deuce, and then an equal number of imps 
 leap upon other hobbies whose speed is 
 a trifle greater than the first; the starter 
 gives the spirits the signal when they 
 are fairly well arranged on the line 
 with the imps a thousand yards behind, 
 and off they go lickety-cut. See! they 
 are just starting! Hurrah! hurrah! go 
 it, old boys, go it! Pardon me, James, 
 for becoming excited. When the imps 
 finally catch up with the correctees, they 
 leap upon them and try to cut out their 
 
 152 
 
insolence and haughtiness and worthless 
 pride by the aid of hooked knives. That 
 part of the game is not so pleasant to 
 behold, I acknowledge, like the killing 
 of the horses in a Spanish bull-fight, but 
 it is necessary, and beneficial, too. There 
 they go again — the last lap! See the 
 imps gain on the poor devils! Now 
 they are sticking them! Hurrah! You 
 do not wonder I love to come here, do 
 you, Mr. Conklin? The beauty of it 
 all is that we combine pleasure with 
 profit; I rejoice to think that every one 
 of those racy spirits will be a better — 
 more charitable person in his next exist- 
 ence. Look quick, James! This next 
 race is a side-saddle affair. Wouldn^t 
 you like to stay here for a week, though? 
 Did you notice the group waving their 
 hands by the eastern gate? They are 
 the book-makers, and they have the 
 tenth race on the program." 
 
 "Do the poor wretches never win, 
 Satan?" 
 
 "Once in a while, for the sake of 
 
 X53 
 
encouraging them, yes; but we blow 
 them up afterwards." 
 
 "How do you blow them up?'' 
 ''You notice the bleachers filled with 
 spirits awaiting their turn on the track? 
 Well, the imps wait until each one has 
 won a race from them, and then they 
 have a few mock races among them- 
 selves in which neither chased nor 
 chasers win; and the crowd goes wild 
 from excitement, being reminded of the 
 moving-picture shows that govern the 
 earth ; but just before the end of the last 
 lap a brazen-throated fiend gets up into 
 the judges' stand and cries out through 
 a megaphone: — 'Don't get excited, ladies 
 and gentlemen — a bomb is about to go 
 off!'; and, sure enough, the bomb ex- 
 plodes and hurls the wretches in every 
 direction — mostly up in the air; then 
 we call them down again, a little bit 
 worse for wear, but very amenable to 
 correction; some return so much out of 
 shape that the demons lay them on the 
 track and ride over them until they re- 
 
 154 
 
form, to the great delectation of the 
 hobbies, whose hoofs thus obtain a rest. 
 The latter method of straightening them 
 out is called the Racial Pressure." 
 
 "Are all these souls rich people — I 
 mean were?'' asked Conklin with a 
 shudder, for at that moment the imp- 
 riders caught up with the side-saddlers. 
 
 *^No, no indeed. Perhaps sixty per- 
 cent of them never saw a great deal of 
 money at once, but they all were guilty 
 of the noxious sin of uncharitableness 
 combined with classy contempt of other 
 people. In the second stadium belong 
 those souls who when alive owned auto- 
 mobiles and became disdainful on that 
 account. Since their treatment is some- 
 what similar to this that you see, we 
 shall not take the time and trouble to go 
 there. I might tell you, nevertheless, 
 how their races are managed: automo- 
 biles start out like the hobbie-horses ; 
 and when the souls congratulate them- 
 selves that they are drawing away from 
 the imps a huge bar is suddenly dropped 
 
 155 
 
across the track, and the contemptuous 
 classics are hurled against pitchforks 
 which the gleeful demons hold out to 
 them. That is what I call real fun. 
 Then of course the bar is withdrawn in 
 order that the pursuing imps may have 
 the pleasure of running over the fallen 
 souls. I'll tell you the name of this 
 game if you won't breathe a word of it," 
 whispered the Devil, glancing around to 
 see whether any imp were near enough 
 to hear. 
 
 '^Not a word, upon my honor, Satan." 
 
 *'We call it Crossing the Bar! Ha 
 ha! startled you some, didn't it? I knew 
 it would. That's the kind of a bar these 
 people cross." 
 
 "You are a bar-bar-ous lot!" mur- 
 mured Conklin with a wry face. 
 
 "Not many barbers here," answered 
 Satan, who misunderstood his visitor's 
 remark. "Whatever few do come are 
 assigned to other circles usually. Of 
 course you might find a few who de- 
 spised their customers because they did 
 
 X56 
 
not receive an extra tip, but in any case 
 they get tipped here." 
 
 'What do you think of the Hoolihan, 
 the Hoolihan, the Hoolihan!" Conklin 
 suddenly sang, rising from his seat and 
 swinging his arms around his head. 
 His head had lost its fine balance 
 through too much excitement and hor- 
 ror and sympathy for the miserable crew 
 of classy despisers. 
 
 'We had better go right back to the 
 ^elevator, sir,'' exclaimed Satan, who be- 
 came anxious for the welfare of his 
 guest. ^ "Charron is a skillful masseur, 
 and he will make you feel fine." 
 
 ''Those little hands — those little 
 hands!" cried Conklin, wringing his 
 powerful paws with all his might. 
 
 "Buza! Buza!" Satan signaled to the 
 imp downstairs, "bring up two bottles 
 of hot Scotch at once; at once!" 
 
 Hardly had the imp received the 
 telepham when he appeared before his 
 master with the goods on a tray with 
 glasses. Conklin rushed forward, for- 
 
 157 
 
getting his madness, and drained one of 
 the bottles at a single draught. "Two a 
 penny, three a penny, hot cross buns!" 
 he shouted, and then sank down in a 
 heap. 
 
 Satan placed the sleeping man gently 
 on a couch which stood beneath an awn- 
 ing, and stroked his head. As a glisten- 
 ing tear fell u-pon his sandy hair, his 
 twisted features relaxed and his rapid, 
 irregular breathing became as peaceful 
 as that of a slumbering child. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" said the Devil with a 
 sigh. "This has been too much for him. 
 I should not have told him what I did, 
 because it seemed to upset him — grated 
 perhaps on his ^religious consciousness, 
 which is remarkably developed in these 
 Scotchmen. Nevertheless, the hot tonic 
 and a little sleep will bring him around 
 all right." So he left him reclining on 
 the couch protected from the glaring sun, 
 which doubtlessly had much to do with 
 the sudden stroke, and took his seat by the 
 rail to meditate. 
 
 158 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Circus Pyrotechnalis 
 
 llf HEN James Conklin awoke from 
 his long sleep, he found himself 
 in a most comfortable bed. Sunshine 
 flooded in through the windows, one 
 ray of it falling upon a beautiful pic- 
 ture of Cleopatra ascending the Nile. 
 The walls were decorated with paper of 
 a lovely blue color which satisfied the 
 eye completely. There hung other pic- 
 tures too ; and a blue and white chiffonier 
 stood between the windows, surmounted 
 by a French plate mirror of oval shape. 
 Altogether the room exuded a feminine 
 atmosphere, which was not displeasing 
 to Conklin to say the least. 
 
 "Hell-o!" he called. "Hell-o! Where 
 am I? Who is there?" 
 
 The door was opened quietly and a 
 soft voice said: "You are among friends, 
 
 159 
 
Mr. Conklin. I am your nurse, or rather 
 I have been, and I am glad that you 
 woke up so nicely. Are you hungry?" 
 
 "Hungry as a bear," growled James, 
 proving the proverb that says the strong- 
 est man is the worst patient. "Who are 
 you anyway?" He tried to rise in order 
 to see who was speaking to him. 
 
 "Oh, don't get up just now, Mr. Conk- 
 lin," answered the gentle voice with a 
 little laugh. "You are hardly in a fit con- 
 dition to be seen, you know. Wait until 
 after breakfast, and then you can dress 
 and come down stairs, where my husband 
 is waiting for you." A wonderful female 
 vision placed a tray containing a bounti- 
 ful breakfast on the bed and disappeared 
 before James could get a good look at 
 her. 
 
 He sighed, and then devoured the 
 meal like a man who has not eaten 
 for forty-two hours — Scotch oatmeal, 
 cream, sugar, rolls, butter, marmalade, 
 eggs, baked potatoes, steak, grapefruit, 
 and a glass of hot toddy. Then he sighed 
 
 x6o 
 
again, and after rolling over in bed sev- 
 eral times as if loath to leave it he 
 stepped out onto the floor and com- 
 menced to dress himself, after taking a 
 sponge bath from the basin of a hand- 
 painted wash-stand, since he found his 
 clothes, neatly pressed, lying on a chair 
 near the bed. He sighed a third time 
 when he took up his scarf, which had 
 been smoothed out to look like new: a 
 diamond pin stuck in it — and surely he 
 wore no scarf-pin when he left home 
 with Satan! However, he thrust the pin 
 into its place in the center of the tie be- 
 low the knot, and then looked to see 
 whether the same hands that left the pin 
 had not also bestowed a diamond breast- 
 pin! A little disappointed, Conklin 
 brushed his hair with the gold-backed 
 brushes which lay on the dresser, and 
 went down stairs with the air of a man 
 who does not quite understand where he 
 is but is determined to be master of the 
 situation at any cost. 
 
 ^^Hell-o!" cried a familiar voice. "I 
 
 i6x 
 
thought my wife would fix you up all 
 right, Conklin. I did not like to bring 
 you here at first, out of principle, but you 
 slept so long at the top of the tower that 
 I became alarmed about your condition 
 and decided to put you in feminine 
 hands. There is nothing like a womaa. 
 to cure a sick man, you can count on 
 that." 
 
 James rubbed his forehead with his 
 hands as if he was trying to connect the 
 present with the past, and looked first 
 at Satan, who sat in an easy chair smok- 
 ing a pipe — the smell of which savored 
 strongly of brimstone, and then at his 
 wife, the lovely Cleopatra herself, who 
 stood behind her husband with a smile 
 on her beautiful face. 
 
 "That's all right, old man," said Satan, 
 rising to his feet and extending his hand 
 to his visitor. "Never mind what has 
 happened in the past. My wife says that 
 you are all right again, and that is the 
 main thing just now. Have a good break- 
 fast? No headache? Nothing like a 
 
 x62 
 
Scotch temperance to give a man a good 
 constitution — and Scotch whiskey to pull 
 him out of danger — eh? And in lieu of 
 a Scotch girl, a pretty Egyptian does 
 fairly well, what? Sit down and make 
 yourself at home. Let me introduce you 
 formally to Cleopatra, my wife. Have 
 you seen to the kitchen fire, my dear? to 
 the hens? to the children? You will ex- 
 cuse her, will you not, Mr. Conklin, for 
 she has much to do. Are you feeling 
 strong enough to continue our little jour- 
 ney?'^ 
 
 ^^ust as you say," replied Conklin, 
 watching Cleopatra until she disap- 
 peared. "I am ready for anything." 
 
 "Yes, I think we had better be moving 
 right along. Your time is no doubt val- 
 uable, as is mine, and if you are feeling 
 as well as you appear, you will be all 
 right for the rest of the journey, which 
 is not so very long now. Cleopatra! Cleo- 
 patra! Mr. Conklin is going away, and 
 he wishes to say good-by to you." 
 
 Cleopatra appeared in the door-way 
 
 163 
 
with a silken duster of blue color tied 
 around her head. ^^Good-by, Mr. Conk- 
 lin," she said with a charming smile, "I 
 am sorry you were sick; but I hope you 
 will not forget us when you return to 
 your own home. Excuse my negligee, 
 won't you? Good-by." 
 
 James hardly knew which end he was 
 standing on. "Good-by," he said, me- 
 chanically, and his eyes followed her all 
 the way to the door as she went back to 
 the kitchen to finish her work. 
 
 ^'Come on, Conklin," said Satan. 
 "Here is your hat. There is no time to 
 waste. I had Gaza bring an automobile 
 so that you would not have to walk to 
 the 'elevator. Step in — lively, please! Not 
 more than a hundred miles an hour, 
 Gaza, for we wish to view the country as 
 we go by. See this beautiful landscape? 
 blue mountains? blue river? blue grass? 
 Had it put there to please Cleopatra. 
 Did you notice the Clematis Verticillaris 
 on the side of the veranda? The blue- 
 jays come to build their nests in it. The 
 
 164 
 
lawn is made of bluets instead of the hor- 
 rible green grass which most commuting 
 mortals with artificial tastes sow and reap 
 continually and keep well covered with 
 horse and cow droppings mixed with 
 straw. Our ensign is the blue-flag. Our 
 clothes are washed in bluine. Cleopatra 
 has no chance to get homesick, I tell you. 
 Here we are at the station. Toot toot! 
 All aboard!" 
 
 Charon, who had been expecting his 
 master and his visitor, shut the 'elevator 
 door with a bang, so startled was he to 
 see Satan in such a strange mood; and 
 his wheeling eyes whirled around rapid- 
 ly to the right, in the direction of the 
 demon prince, very suspiciously. 
 
 *^This seems to be the same place 
 where we got out the last time," re- 
 marked Conklin, who had regained the 
 use of his faculties, tongue included. 
 
 "Down like Hell, old boy!" cried Sa- 
 tan to the ex-ferryman, who obeyed so 
 promptly that Conklin was thrown vio- 
 lently against the top of the 'elevator, 
 
where he remained the rest of the jour- 
 ney, gazing down at Satan with a piteous 
 expression. Evidently the latter was 
 cross about something; he said not an- 
 other word until they arrived at the next 
 circle and Charon had swung wide the 
 gates; but he caught James in his arms 
 as he fell from the ceiling like a little 
 child, and carrying him out set him upon 
 his feet on the ground. 
 
 "You know I was provoked at being 
 compelled to take you to my home," he 
 said in a gentler manner, "but now I 
 feel as if you were my own child, and 
 we'll be good friends again. That was 
 the same circus, as you remarked. Do 
 you suppose I would go to the trouble of 
 having two suns, two moons, and two 
 sets of stars? They were contrived es- 
 pecially for Cleopatra, and not for the 
 souls, as I may have led you to believe. 
 We have enjoyed many a trip through 
 the country of an afternoon, and many a 
 delightful spin, and many a wonderful 
 spoon in the moonlight. Ah, my boy! 
 
 x66 
 
"However, there are other things to 
 think of now. We are in the Circus Pyro- 
 technalis, which is to me the most inter- 
 esting of all, leaving out the one where 
 I live, of course. Does not the name of 
 the place connote the picture of a Fourth 
 of July celebration? I am afraid that the 
 spirits who receive correction here think 
 otherwise; but if they had been wise 
 above they would not now have to think 
 otherwise below. Who are they? Pub- 
 lic and political ofifenders. We shall step 
 in this building for a moment. You'd 
 better put on your blue glasses, boy. 
 Hades, what a heat! I had almost for- 
 gotten that it was so intense. Get be- 
 hind me and you will not feel it so much. 
 Can you distinguish those spirits hanging 
 over the rafters? Ha! They were dis- 
 tinguished on the earth, but here they 
 are almost extinguished — ha ha! an- 
 guished — ha! They were public officials, 
 such as mayors, kings, governors,, presi- 
 dents, congressmen, and so forth, who 
 intentionally made use of their authority 
 
 167 
 
to fill their own coffers and further their 
 own interests, and who did not do their 
 best for the people whom they were sup- 
 posed to help ; all who oppose prepared- 
 ness, since they are traitors; and news- 
 paper men who published false news that 
 did injury to the country. They are too 
 green to burn, and so they are hanging 
 up there to dry! Ha ha! ha ha!" His 
 laugh was terrible. 
 
 ^What a horrid noise they are mak- 
 ing!" cried Conklin, putting the plugs 
 quickly into his ears. 
 
 "They are having a royal time of it," 
 Satan said. "Many of them are famous 
 characters, some of whom you might rec- 
 ognize from having seen their pictures, 
 if you could get a good glimpse of their 
 faces ; but they purposely hide their feat- 
 ures or distort them so as to be unrecog- 
 nizable; and perhaps it is best thus, for 
 who wants to see such dirty trash? 
 
 "Over on the other side of the building 
 where those rows of huge fire-places 
 stand, there the active traitors slowly 
 
 x68 
 
roast on spits that turn in the very flames : 
 the turning of the spits indicates the 
 manner in which they deserted their 
 country in the time of need. Let us ap- 
 proach and speak to them." 
 
 Conklin's eyes bulged out until they 
 nearly touched the blue glass perched in 
 front of them, but then quickly retreated 
 into their sockets on account of the heat: 
 he had recognized Benedict Arnold! He 
 gasped for breath, and turned away in 
 order not to see the horrid contortions of 
 the sallow face. 
 
 "Not him!" he hoarsely whispered. 
 *^Someone else!" So they went farther 
 along, until they came before a spike on 
 which a wretched victim's whole body 
 was convulsed from agony. 
 
 "Who are you?" demanded Conklin, 
 without waiting for the Hell-master to 
 speak, as had been his custom previously. 
 
 "I was Alcibiades," answered the 
 spirit with a twist and a groan. Then, 
 when his face revolved again, he added 
 painfully: "What do you want with me, 
 human soul?" la^ 
 
An expression of disgust passed over 
 the questioner's features. *With you? 
 Nothing! Turn away, vile traitor!" The 
 unfortunate spirit did as the other re- 
 quested — from necessity; and his dread- 
 ful countenance, which during his stay 
 on earth had been so beautiful that men 
 and women could not help loving him, 
 despite his wickedness, moved slowly 
 toward the wall. 
 
 ^'Should you like to speak to Aeschi- 
 nes?" asked Satan, who had watched 
 with serious but unmoved physiognomy 
 the intercourse between his visitor and 
 the punishees. 
 
 ''No," replied Conklin earnestly. "A 
 little goes a long way here. Let us leave 
 these degraded ghosts and continue on 
 our journey. There must be other things 
 worth examining in the Pyrotechnical 
 Circle, and more pleasant than this." 
 
 "As you wish, brother," Satan an- 
 swered. "It is in your interests that we 
 came here, not mine. Which should you 
 care to visit next: the second section of 
 
 170 
 
national pilferers, or the uncommon 
 grafters?" 
 
 'What is the difference between 
 them?" 
 
 "There is no difference except in the 
 name and in the method of correction — 
 both orders are full of ordure." 
 
 "Whichever you choose, therefore, 
 Mr. Devil — only take me out of this 
 building — the odor of roasting flesh is 
 more than I can endure, especially af- 
 ter my spell of — ahem — ha — er — sick- 
 
 ness." 
 
 "You named it well, my boy," re- 
 turned Satan pityingly. "At first I was 
 minded to send you up to the clinic for 
 the alienists to treat you; but on second 
 thought I remembered that I have made 
 no stranger of you, and therefore I 
 changed my plan. You came out of the 
 large end of the horn — with flying col- 
 ors." He looked up at his visitor sud- 
 denly and scrutinized him sharply; find- 
 ing but a far-away expression, he 
 changed the subject. "I shall take you 
 
 171 
 
first to the correction of the national pil- 
 ferers, and then we shall be better able 
 to plan about the rest." 
 
 After leaving the traitors' castle, as 
 Satan styled it, they arrived before long 
 at an adamantine structure fashioned 
 somewhat in the manner of a medieval 
 fortress, about which hundreds of imps 
 were playing leap-frog. When they be- 
 held his devilish majesty they rapidly 
 formed in line and gave the military sa- 
 lute to him and to his companion, who 
 was surprised at the sight of so many 
 little demons and their peculiar proceed- 
 ings, although he felt complimented by 
 the ceremony. 
 
 "How is everything in the fort?" de- 
 manded Satan of the captain. 
 
 "All well, your majesty," replied the 
 latter, bowing low. 
 
 "Return to your game, then, my chil- 
 dren, and enjoy yourselves while you 
 may. Have you finished with the special 
 correction?" 
 
 "Yes, your majesty. Only ten had to 
 
 17* 
 
be shipped up to the clinic this time to 
 have their nerves readjusted, and they 
 are already on the way up." 
 
 "Very good. Follow me in, James, and 
 let nothing alarm you, for fate is with 
 you." 
 
 They sped upward upon a moving es- 
 calator and soon had passed within the 
 forbidding gates of the fortress. 
 
 "Why do you have such a strong guard 
 outside?" asked the visitor, who just 
 now gave up trying to imagine the rea- 
 son by himself. 
 
 "Because we have so much money in 
 the fort," answered Satan. "Do you think 
 we would leave our most precious pos- 
 sessions unguarded? Money is the root 
 of all evil, the worldly proverb says, and 
 naturally it is invaluable for our pur- 
 poses in this circus. This way, please." 
 
 They stepped through an open door 
 to the right, and found themselves in a 
 large office, which was well lighted by 
 means of pale-green electric lamps. In 
 the farthest corner was a desk of tremen- 
 
 173 
 
dous proportions with a roll top, before 
 which sat a man whose mind appeared 
 to be deeply absorbed in figuring out a 
 difficult problem, since he was mutter- 
 ing to himself as he drew designs and 
 numbers upon a large sheet of greenish 
 paper and wrinkling up his forehead, 
 only part of which showed beneath a 
 black treasurer's cap, unwholesomely. 
 He jumped to his feet immediately upon 
 seeing the visitors, and made a reverend 
 salaam. Conklin was surprised to find 
 him dressed in the latest Ne Ork style, 
 neat and immaculate — black suit, black 
 tie, and a blackish heart — at least the 
 latter must possess such a shade, judged 
 Conklin from the wicked frown that had 
 adorned the heavy face whose iron-gray 
 mustache wore a secret sneer: it was 
 very unusual to see a man with all the 
 appearances of a Ne Orker not wear a 
 self-satisfied, sleek, and fat expression, 
 but rather a bearish and hunted look, 
 which betokened an unhappy interior. 
 The man had laid down a heavy black 
 
 174 
 
cigar three-quarters burned, with ashes 
 still clinging to the end of it as if waiting 
 miserly to have the last faint breath of 
 smoke sucked out, upon the desk, as he 
 hastily rose. 
 
 "You are a paradox. Mammon," said 
 Satan, waving his hand carelessly in 
 answer to the profound salute. "When 
 I meet you away from your office, you 
 have the air of a man whose mind is 
 free from worry and fret; but here you 
 expose an entirely different complexion. 
 One would almost conclude that the job 
 were too big for you, or else that you 
 found it difficult to fit yourself into your 
 new surroundings since moving from 
 the old buildings. Til bet you are gruff 
 as a wolf to the spirits, old boy!" 
 
 "Why not, your majesty?" replied 
 the other nervously, and he saluted again 
 in the manner of sycophant. "They 
 come here to be punished, do they not? 
 Why be pleasant to them?" 
 
 "No, you are wrong. Mammon — they 
 are consigned to our apartments for cor- 
 
 175 
 
rection. How many times have I told 
 you that you must forget those old- 
 fashioned ideas we used to have about 
 punishment? The times have changed, 
 and we, who are not governors of the 
 universe but merely servants of the al- 
 mighty powers, must needs change with 
 them. If we had had absolute wisdom 
 and truth in the early days, we should 
 have known better than we did; but we 
 are only poor, weak devils after all! 
 Do not forget that we are children of 
 the age, now and always. How can we 
 perceive or comprehend more than 
 others, who may have even less intelli- 
 gence and revelation than we, of uni- 
 versal things? We can not, so the 
 scholars say, and they know. Therefore 
 remember this, and write it upon your 
 pad so that you may keep it in sight and 
 in mind continually : we are ministers of 
 correction, not of punishment; we shape 
 for the future, not kick about the past. 
 Are you not happy? Do you begrudge 
 the poor spirits even a place in our 
 
 176 
 
midst? You are not the owner of this 
 fortress, but merely a servant acting 
 under my authority. Further: although 
 you have to deal harshly with the souls 
 who come here for correction, especially 
 in regard to money matters, smile in 
 their faces and make them feel at least 
 that you are a friend. Be like the 
 women, Mammon, ^who gossip terrible 
 things about their so-seeming friends, 
 and yet smile upon the objects of their 
 jealousy whenever they meet face to 
 face. In other words, as a member of 
 the under-world, be under-worldly." 
 
 "Yes, majesty," answered the cringing 
 treasurer. 
 
 "I forgot for the moment that I have 
 a friend with me. Mammon, to whom I 
 should like to introduce you! Mr. Con- 
 klin, Mr. Mammon. Mr. Mammon is 
 one of our old standbies. Brother. I 
 don't know what we should do without 
 him. He is one of our chief agents, if not 
 the chief, to the upper world whence 
 you come. He deals in mortgages of all 
 
 X77 
 
kinds, but his specialty is real estate. 
 He holds a first mortgage on most of the 
 large cities in the world. His chef- 
 d'oeuvre in that line was drawn up with 
 the citizens and officials of Ne Ork, of 
 which town perhaps you have heard the 
 people speak — it is one of the sewers of 
 the eastern coast of New Palestine. 
 Oh, you are well acquainted with it, are 
 you? Well, then I need not describe it. 
 Yes, Mammon holds the first mortgage, 
 and I — I hold the second and third, and 
 soon I will have the fourth, when the 
 tenement houses are raised ten or fifteen 
 more stories and the property value in- 
 creases enough to warrant it. Our busi- 
 ness is pretty big; and, really, I do not 
 wonder that Mammon is often worried. 
 But nevertheless we must keep up ap- 
 pearances, my dear treasurer, or else 
 people will think that we, not they, are 
 going in the hole. You have probably 
 been in Ne Ork long enough to know 
 how much appearances mean, Mr. Con- 
 Z78 
 
klin. Well, how are things moving 
 here?" 
 
 "First rate, your majesty; but I was 
 just figuring up, when you entered, how 
 soon the correctee B^orgian would need 
 another billion." 
 
 "How soon?" 
 
 "If you will wait just a minute, I can 
 tell you very accurately, majesty." Mam- 
 mon turned to his desk and made some 
 calculations as rapidly as lightning. 
 *Two days and a half — more accurately, 
 sixty-two hours, five minutes, and twelve 
 seconds, sir." 
 
 "Is it already being warmed for him?" 
 
 "Yes, your sanctity, it is in the electric 
 furnace now." 
 
 "Very good. You may return to your 
 work. Mammon — much obliged for 
 your attention. Do you see the books in 
 front of his desk, James? Those are the 
 year-books. Who's Who, et cetera, which 
 are invaluable to us in our researches. 
 By the way, there is a bottle of spring- 
 water to your left, Conklin. Don't care 
 
 179 
 
for water? Well, well, if you are not 
 thirsty we can walk all the better. 
 There is much to behold in this fortress, 
 so we'll leave our Mr. Mammon and 
 take a look at D'orgian. This direc- 
 tion." 
 
 They went down the gloomy hallway 
 until they came to a door on the right 
 before which hung a sign marked "The 
 Counting House," and through which 
 they passed. The sound of chinking 
 became audible to Conklin even through 
 his mufflers. 
 
 "Take out your ear-plugs, James, 
 since here no cries rise to heaven to in- 
 jure the stars, and the spirits speak very 
 rapidly because they dare not cease even 
 for an instant from their labors." 
 
 Down the tremendous length of the 
 room which they had entered ran a 
 brazen grating, like the fence in front 
 of the cashier's office in a bank, only 
 higher and stronger, adorned with fan- 
 tastic figures and devilish shapes. It 
 was a masterpiece of bronze work, ex- 
 
 x8o 
 
ecuted by Wite, Satan explained to his 
 visitor. The space behind this extra- 
 ordinary railing was divided into many 
 rooms by the same material. The 
 greenish light peculiar to Hades fluctu- 
 ated through the hall, and filled it with 
 a most melancholy atmosphere. The 
 smells which floated into Conklin's sen- 
 sitive nostrils were none the pleasantest, 
 either — they reminded him of burning 
 skin and rubber, and were much more 
 pungent than the odors of evaporated 
 dung. A white glow directly before 
 him caught Conklin's attention. 
 
 "What is that iridescent pile?" he 
 asked of his guide. 
 
 "It is a heap of hot gold," answered 
 the latter. "Follow me into the room, 
 where one of the most touching sights 
 of Hell may be observed." He turned 
 the massive knob of the heavy door until 
 the correct combination resulted, and 
 they walked into the sancta sanctorum, 
 the inner shrine, the sacred lodge. Be- 
 hold, a spirit stood before a mountain of 
 
 i8x 
 
white gold counting it out as fast as his 
 trembling fingers would allow. 
 
 "Keep right on with your work, M'or- 
 gian," said Satan with a stern voice, "and 
 don't you dare quit for the hundredth 
 fraction of a second, if you care not to 
 jump into the Circus Horribilimus! 
 We came not to hold a colloquy with 
 such a thing as you, but to watch the 
 
 count." 
 
 The wretch shook all over from fright, 
 yet he continued passing the hot metal 
 from the pile to the mouth of a brazen 
 chute which yawned at his feet. The 
 chinking of the coin was unpleasant to 
 Conklin, since well he knew what enor- 
 mities it had produced and to what 
 monstrosities it had given birth. Never- 
 theless, it had a certain fascination for 
 him, as it has for everybody — ghosts of 
 the shadowy dead as well as hosts of the 
 living dead. Chink, chink, chink — at 
 the rate of a thousand pieces a minute it 
 was separated from its gleaming matrix 
 five at a time by the blistered fingers, 
 
 182 
 
which, being but the shadow of a reality, 
 could not be burned away, yet which, 
 having been sensitized to that degree 
 which is imparted to a finger of flesh by 
 a cancerous felon, felt pain at the hot 
 touch in an unspeakable manner. 
 
 'Was this man a felon?" asked James 
 with a shudder. 
 
 "No, not in the eyes of the law or his 
 money-eyed worshippers; but in the 
 light of all that is right and just, yes." 
 
 "I rather expected to see a spirit with 
 a tremendous nose, Satan, whereas this 
 one has a little, hollow, turned-up 
 smeller." 
 
 "Naturally you expected what you 
 did. The fact is that when this shade 
 croaked, his nose, which had been but 
 a fleshly inflation, fell in as the wind 
 left it. Thus doth death often cause 
 contrarities. Have you beheld enough 
 here? Then we shall pass to the next 
 ward." 
 
 As they left the strange counting- 
 house and slammed the ornamented 
 
 X83 
 
door shut with a sharp click, James 
 turned his bewildered glance toward his 
 leader and whispered cautiously, "You 
 don^t seem to have any devils here to 
 guard N^orgian and his burning pile of 
 gold!" 
 
 "Oh you Scotchman!" cried Satan, 
 whose grim features relaxed in a pleased 
 smile. "You would make sure of a 
 mountain of money, would you not? 
 Don't worry an instant about that. 
 Money has no value down in Hell, and 
 furthermore the gold which you beheld 
 is fool's gold. Did you imagine M'or- 
 gian could make off with it? Why, he 
 is so fascinated by it that whatever pain 
 it costs continually to count it is more 
 than counteracted by the hypnotism of 
 the gold, though not alleviated; and be- 
 sides there is nothing else that he knows 
 how to do." 
 
 "If then you need no protection for 
 the sake of the gold, and are not afraid 
 that the wretched correctee will run 
 away from his task, why do you main- 
 
 zS4 
 
tain such a heavy guard outside the 
 building?" 
 
 "Ha ha! I don't wonder that you are 
 somewhat puzzled, comrade. Most peo- 
 ple who enter Hades are more puzzled 
 than you, take it from me. The reason 
 why we maintain such a heavy guard 
 outside is to prevent all Hell from com- 
 ing in to help D'orgian count his pile! 
 ha! You have lots to learn yet. But 
 come, we are wasting time; the cell 
 which we are about to visit is literally 
 a chamber of horrors, not merely on 
 account of the characters which are con- 
 fined therein but also the manner of cor- 
 rection which is meted out." 
 
 For some time Conklin had noticed a 
 peculiar noise — very much like that 
 heard in a school-room when all the 
 naughty scholars cough with brazen 
 throats in order to annoy the teacher. 
 Lo! there inside the ward stood hundreds 
 of spirits coughing violently, each of 
 them closely attended by a guardian 
 imp with an instrument shaped like a 
 cornucopia in his hand. ,85 
 
^'What are they doing in here?" cried 
 Conklin. 
 
 "Your wit must be sharpened in order 
 to appreciate and comprehend the won- 
 ders of Hades," replied Satan crossly. 
 "Can you not use your eyes? In the sec- 
 tion which we just left is stored our 
 main pile; in this room are our coughers! 
 Smell the odor of burning spirits? All 
 these souls pilfered their nation's wealth 
 for the sake of getting rich, acquiring 
 more than ten million dollars before 
 they died. The smaller pilferers re- 
 ceive their medicine upstairs. The lat- 
 ter swallow and cough up according to 
 our directions coins varying from one- 
 dollar gold-pieces to eagles; these rascals 
 spit up double-eagles. Did you observe 
 the funnel into which M'orgian dropped 
 the gold after counting it? That pours 
 them through a tunnel into this chamber 
 — over there by the wall. Beliar, who 
 superintends this department, receives 
 the gold and distributes it to the imps, 
 who must render to the furnace-tender 
 
 x86 
 
all the tender taken from Beliar. We 
 are no tender bunch! Who bargains 
 with the devil must pay in hard cash; 
 no credit is allowed in our department 
 stores. 
 
 ''Now, if you watch carefully, you 
 will notice the circulating imp, a husky 
 devil, approach the scuttle where Beliar 
 sits at his desk, pull the cord which gov- 
 erns the flow of gold, fill his bronze 
 kettle almost to overflowing, and carry 
 it around to each imp, who takes out a 
 handful and feeds it to his spirit piece 
 by piece. The ghosts must cough up 
 each coin one hundred times before re- 
 ceiving the next. Of course the money 
 becomes rather cold by the hundredth 
 time, but what's the difference? the cor- 
 rective value is the same." 
 
 At first sight the scene disgusted Con- 
 klin horribly, but he soon got used to 
 the coughing and straining of the pecu- 
 lators; and after his guide had ex- 
 plained the system to him he took an 
 active and curious interest in everything 
 that went on. ,87 
 
"That's funny!" he suddenly ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "What's funny?" asked Satan. 
 
 "Why, no matter how much the pil- 
 ferers twist and contort their bodies in 
 their effort to spew up a coin, even 
 throwing themselves backward and for- 
 ward and sideways almost to the floor 
 with agony, they do not seem to stir 
 from the spot where they stand!" 
 
 "The reason^ should be evident to a 
 man of your acumen, James: they are 
 rooted to the spot, of course." 
 
 "With what, Satan? Glue? wire? 
 magnetic currents?" 
 
 "YouVe had your three, now give 
 your tongue to the cats. With money, 
 of course — money, the root of all evil. 
 If you press the point, I must answer 
 that they are hypnotized, too. These 
 fellows, in spite of the gripes in their 
 tripes, as the Spaniards would say, 
 would not run away if they could, the 
 way Jeanie Calvin did. At first the 
 experience is wonderful to them, and 
 
 z88 
 
they bite at the double-eagles like cats 
 at a young robin, as if they wished to 
 gulp down even the feathers; but after 
 a time the eagle becomes pretty tough 
 for them, and then indigestion of the 
 worst sort sets in; finally the spirit re- 
 pents of his wholesale stealing, and then 
 he has had enough of the correction to 
 restore him to an honest state and a 
 strong, burning desire to help the world 
 instead of stealing from it — say in a 
 thousand or two or three thousand years, 
 we send him up to some elementary 
 planet for a fresh start, perhaps in the 
 form of an alebon, which is similar to 
 the amoebon of this world." 
 
 '^That is very interesting, I am sure, 
 Mr. Devil. But do the imps not become 
 tired of their task? and how can they 
 handle the red-hot gold without being 
 burned?" 
 
 '^They are so interested in the reform 
 of their children, as they call the crim- 
 inals, that their duties afford them the 
 greatest pleasure. Don't you yourself 
 
 X89 
 
sort of enjoy seeing these grafters have 
 to cough up money? Certainly. So do 
 I. Do you know, Conklin, I am look- 
 ing forward to the time when all this 
 pilfering business will be done away, 
 and the would-be big-scale boodlers will 
 be prevented by just measures from 
 stripping the earth and hence be kept 
 from the horrors of Hell. Some day, I 
 hope, there will be no Hell, Brother 
 Conklin." 
 "But what will become of you then?" 
 "It makes no difference. When one's 
 work is done, why remain as a faded 
 souvenir? Why shuffle away the hours 
 upon the shelf like a pickled embryo? I 
 shall not care to exist as a mere wart 
 upon the fundament of time; my name 
 shall linger in the mind of posterity to 
 impress upon it moral lessons from age 
 to age. What more could I ask for? 
 Besides, who knows what the future has 
 in store? Let us hope and work for the 
 best. Stars may burn and worlds may 
 go; man works out his own future in 
 
 xgo 
 
the environment in which he is placed. 
 He is real. I, a poor devil, am but a 
 creation and instrument of man, and I 
 must wait on him." 
 
 "I like your sentiments, Satan. You 
 did not tell me, however, about the 
 hands of the imps; and I should like to 
 ask too about the peculiarly shaped ob- 
 jects they hold." 
 
 "The little devils feel no pain what- 
 ever from the hot gold, for the reason 
 that they are half Jews on their mother^s 
 side and half Jews on their father's side, 
 having been transformed from the gen- 
 eration of Adam into imps by the imagi- 
 nation of man; on the other hand, they 
 enjoy their job immensely, and it would 
 be difficult to tear them away; they 
 would swallow the gold themselves if 
 we allowed them to, but of course we 
 wouldn't stand for that — they would 
 eat us out of house and home. 
 
 "The instruments they hold are corn- 
 ucopiae, filled with sulfurious brim- 
 stone vapor; when the spirits seem too 
 
 xgx 
 
slow in coughing up their dough, they 
 clap the cornua over their heads and 
 choke them thus into retching. It would 
 not pay to be too ceremonious here, al- 
 though, seeing the past grandeur of 
 these robbers, the imps always beg par- 
 don afterwards and give them two 
 double eagles to swallow for the next 
 meal." 
 
 ^^Who is that thin fellow yonder — - 
 seems green at the business?" 
 
 "You mean the sallow spirit over 
 there just being choked into submission 
 by a cornucopia? Why, that is Stonie- 
 girl. He came here but a short while 
 ago. He finds it easy enough to swal- 
 low the coin, but much more difficult to 
 vomit it up; he is weazened anyway, 
 and his organs were in bad shape when 
 he arrived. Should you care to speak 
 to him for a minute? He was a great 
 curiosity at first, because his fame pre- 
 ceded him here, but the spirits and the 
 imps got disgusted with him because he 
 smelt so vile." 
 
 192 
 
'Thew, Devil! He stinks like helH 
 What is that odor? We used to shoot 
 pole-cats up where I lived in the country, 
 but they never hurt my nostrils like this 
 fellow." 
 
 ^Well, you see, he came so horribly 
 caked with turpitude that we had to 
 immerse him in hot oil to soften him up, 
 and to our surprise and dismay it made 
 him stink all the worse, although what 
 do we care so long as it only gives 
 more offense to his neighbors? Hell-o, 
 Stoniegirl! Brother Conklin would like 
 to say a word when you have coughed 
 up your double-eagle — make it fasti" 
 
 ^'I trust you enjoy your dinner, Mr. 
 Stoniegirl," said Conklin with a grin. 
 "Don't you get real hungry before 
 breakfast?" 
 
 "This is no trust company — no tru-u- 
 u-uh-ucha-uch-oh-koh-uch-cha-" 
 
 "Leave him alone, James. There are 
 better objects to observe. Come along. 
 I will be retching before long myself if 
 I stay here. The other side of the build- 
 
 193 
 
ing contains a correction-hall of extra- 
 ordinary interest, so thither we shall 
 direct our steps. You have heard of Dis, 
 have you not? He has charge of the 
 east-side, where we are now going; 
 Beliar, whom you saw in the belching 
 department, directs the west-side; and 
 Mammon, whom we addressed in the 
 office, is the general superintendent of 
 the fort and too the whole circle. Here 
 we are — step in quietly, so that you will 
 not disturb the court." 
 
 They had entered a judgment-hall. 
 Behind a low desk on a bench sat the 
 demon called Dis, the famous justice, 
 surrounded by his associates. 
 
 *'This is about the only court in the 
 world where justice is not bought and 
 sold," said Satan sadly. "If a bribe 
 should even be attempted, both the 
 briber and the bribee would be thrown 
 without mercy into the Horrible Circle, 
 and thence into the vain void of very 
 vacuum; but safe to say it never hap- 
 pens. The judges are, commencing at 
 
 194 
 
the extreme left: Dismay, Disapproval, 
 Dissatisfaction, Discuss, Disassociate, 
 Disconnect, Disgust, Disabled, Disavow, 
 Disentery, and Distress last, he of the 
 long hair; Dis is of course in the mid- 
 dle, as you might have judged by his 
 disinterested air. There are no lawyers 
 or Jewry, either. The prisoners, whom 
 you can see standing in barred cells at- 
 tended each by a demon with a garrot 
 in his hands, are tried one by one and 
 then executed each right in his cage 
 where all can partake of the disagreeable 
 spectacle, as many times as he took dollars 
 for favorable judgment in his previous 
 capacity on earth as judge; then they are 
 revived by means of an electric applica- 
 tion, which is found in each cell, and 
 put to the fiery torture, which consists 
 of sending just as much electric current 
 through them as they can endure, at a 
 signal given by Dis. It is very inspiring 
 to see them go up in flames all together. 
 No mask is allowed. But I am telling 
 you too much, for you can watch it all 
 
 <95 
 
yourself, and my speaking bothers the 
 bench." 
 
 They sat down by the wall in chairs 
 which had been provided for visitors, 
 since there was no gallery. They beheld 
 Dis extend his awful arm and point to a 
 prisoner. "Guilty or — guilty?" he de- 
 manded in hollow tones of his associates. 
 "Guilty!" they replied mournfully. The 
 arm was extended again, this time 
 toward a disk upon the wall fashioned 
 like the face of a clock: immediately the 
 hand upon it, the hand of fate, revolved 
 until it stopped at the number which 
 designated the entire sums taken as 
 bribes by the criminal during his term 
 of office. Then the demon who had 
 been waiting with malicious eagerness 
 garroted the wretch with swift motions 
 the correct number of times, stopping 
 only to turn on and off the reviving cur- 
 rent between chokes. The horrid con- 
 tortions of the wretch in his extreme 
 agony grated upon Conklin's nerves just 
 as squeaking glass grates upon a neuras- 
 
 196 
 
thenic, making him sick to his stomach; 
 twice he almost fainted, but he recalled 
 his wandering senses before they had left 
 his forehead. Even Satan was com- 
 pelled to hide his face in his hands; the 
 judges writhed as they watched, fasci- 
 nated; the other prisoners gasped with 
 horror, some of them trying in vain to 
 turn away, attracted like a mother to her 
 daughter's execution on the gallows, 
 others staring with eyes sticking out of 
 their hollow skulls, and still others drop- 
 ping to the floor in a faint. When at 
 last this dreadful task was over, Dis 
 raised his awful arm once more, and the 
 next rascal was given his medicine. 
 
 "Now watch!" whispered the Devil, 
 after all in the hall had been treated. 
 "Now comes the exciting moment!" 
 
 Dis rose to his feet, towering terribly. 
 "Have any of you wretches anything to 
 say?" he shouted. There was no reply 
 — the voice had been garroted out of 
 them. "Then turn on the current!" he 
 yelled. 
 
 197 
 
A flame of greenish hue shot through 
 the immense hall. Brimstone fumes 
 combined with a noisome, sulfurious 
 stench came to the nostrils of the travel- 
 ers, drowning out the odor of scorched 
 spirit-flesh. 
 
 "Ha ha!" Dis cried, waving his hands 
 in the air frantically. "Give it to them! 
 Soak it to them!'' 
 
 "Hell and damnation!" muttered Sa- 
 tan — "he has no business to get so ex- 
 cited, a judge of his distinction!" 
 
 "Now the reviver!" shouted Dis, still 
 gesticulating wildly. 
 
 The deed was done. The criminals 
 had received the first instalment of their 
 dues. Satan stood up and clutched Conk- 
 lin by the sleeve. 
 
 "Let us depart while the memory of 
 their correction is still vivid," he said 
 hoarsely. "The rest of their treatment is 
 similar to that which you observed on 
 the other side: they are shipped upstairs, 
 where they are forced to swallow their 
 previous judgments, which are con- 
 
 X98 
 
densed into hard, round pellets and 
 heated to a white heat. Others, who have 
 been waiting in a box outside, are 
 brought into the court-room to fill the 
 empty places." 
 
 "Do the justices get no rest?" de- 
 manded Conklin, who had just found 
 his voice after the severe strain upon his 
 nerves. 
 
 "Why should they? Do I receive any 
 rest? Does God rest? Those who work 
 in the behalf of humanity do not seek 
 for easy paths. Let us depart." 
 
 Arm in arm they passed out of the 
 heavy fort. The great Corrector felt the 
 human hand that lay in his shake and 
 tremble. He looked at his companion 
 pityingly, and felt compassion on him 
 when he noticed how pale and drawn 
 was his countenance. 
 
 "For pity's sake, man, don't take the 
 correction of a bunch of rascals so much 
 to heart. You can do them little good 
 now, for their fate has already been de- 
 cided. Seek rather to prevent your earth- 
 
 199 
 
ly brethren from committing such crimes 
 themselves. Do your duty to the living, 
 letting the dead pity the dead." 
 
 "I know, but great Scott, what a 
 doom! I was thinking more about the 
 past in my own life, Satan — worrying." 
 
 "You'll do, my boy, you'll do! Forget 
 what mistakes you may have made so 
 far, and let bygones be bygones. In as- 
 sisting your fellows who need your help 
 you can cross oflf the old score, if you 
 feel sure that there is one against 
 you; but above all things, don't worr}^ 
 What would happen to Hell if I began 
 to worry? Why it would go all to blazes. 
 Be a man, and do good. This is the only 
 life-time you'll have, and already it is 
 half spent ; make the best of the rest of it. 
 
 "I wonder whether you would take an 
 interest in the great forest fire. Yes, I'll 
 send them a telepham at once command- 
 ing them to hold the flames back until we 
 arrive; but it's quite a distance off — per- 
 haps — we won't take the trouble to walk 
 — we'll fly over." Suiting his actions to 
 
 200 
 
his words, he lifted his comrade up as 
 previously when they had begun their 
 journey; and carried him through the 
 air more swiftly than any eagle that darts 
 down from a lofty ledge to seize a fish 
 in the clear waters, and set him gently 
 upon his feet within sight of a large for- 
 est, the presence of which as an organ 
 of correction was a surprise to the ever- 
 bewildered Scotchman, whose nerve, 
 however, remained always with him. 
 
 "What is this for?" he queried. 
 
 "For-rest," replied Satan. 
 
 "Are you the chief for-rester?" 
 
 "I surely am no wooden Redman, my 
 child. Behold! they are about to touch 
 the match to the grove. Those trees ap- 
 pear to be white with golden leaves, 
 nicht wahr? They have sprung up from 
 the ghouly corpses of souls which we 
 planted, and watered with condensed 
 oxygen, and exorcised; their leaves are 
 gilt wafers of guilt which developed 
 from the stains on the seeds, and their 
 buds are the fruits of evil deeds. Can 
 
 aoz 
 
you discern objects creeping through the 
 branches? Those are other souls which, 
 having been transformed into greedy 
 monkeys, are trying to grasp the shining 
 foliage. Ha ha! they will burn!" 
 
 Hardly had Satan finished speaking 
 when the flames, started by the torch- 
 bearing imps, began to sweep through 
 the trees with awful blast. The forest 
 shrieked and moaned, and the grasping 
 apes howled in agony and mortal fear. 
 It was the most wonderful spectacle that 
 Conklin ever saw. 
 
 ^Whom do you correct thus cruelly?" 
 asked the latter in a whisper. 
 
 "The trees are souls that cut down the 
 forests of Nature ruthlessly when they 
 lived in the flesh; who left branches, tall 
 stumps and crooked trunks in their wake 
 as they cut through the glorious woods 
 in order to gain a few paltry dollars with 
 which to make a vain show before their 
 fellows; the monkeys are souls that 
 abused special privileges and monopolies 
 for their own pecuniary advantage re- 
 
 302 
 
gardless of the rights, comforts and bene- 
 fits of the public; that stole lands and 
 other natural and public properties, such 
 as coal, woods, petroleum pockets, and 
 national resources of whatever kind ; that 
 cheated the Indians; that forced up the 
 price of real estate on which stood no 
 buildings; that robbed the nation in any 
 way; and the lawyers and congressmen 
 who protected them." 
 
 "How about those that monkeyed with 
 the price of real estate where there were 
 buildings?" 
 
 "They are cleansed in another place. 
 Shall we fly thither?" 
 
 "If you please. Devil, — this conflagra- 
 tion frightens and sickens me." 
 
 Again the Demon seized his visitor 
 with his powerful hands and bore him 
 off like the wind. They alighted before 
 a large city that glistened and sparkled 
 in spite of the intense gloom that sur- 
 rounded it. From their hill it looked 
 very beautiful with its nucleus of im- 
 mense buildings and protoplasm of 
 
 ao3 
 
shady suburbs, except that on closer in- 
 spection the latter appeared to be 
 composed mainly of tenement houses 
 crouching in an ugly manner next to one 
 another, with scarcely the width of a 
 knife-blade between them. 
 
 "That lovely city is built of com- 
 pressed oxygen; it rises at a word from 
 me. Within the wretched outskirts are 
 the spirits of real-estate dealers and all 
 of their class who pushed up the price 
 of land and houses and constructed tene- 
 ments and various buildings for specula- 
 tion, and jewed people in general: they 
 receive charts, designs on transparent 
 paper, and blue-prints, which they must 
 work over and study out as if to explain 
 to innocent purchasers, but which they 
 never finish, because the flames quickly 
 cut them off. In the town proper are 
 landlords who charged exorbitant rent 
 or who allowed bad conditions to obtain 
 in their buildings; proprietors of fac- 
 tories where unsanitary and dangerous 
 conditions brought woe to the workmen, 
 
 204 
 
or who abused child laborers, women 
 laborers, and men laborers in any way 
 whatever; merchants and producers who 
 forced unjust prices; civil and uncivil 
 grafters; white-slavers; pimps and 
 whoremongers who coerced their stock 
 in trade; food adulteraters ; Jews who 
 burnt buildings for fire-sales, without 
 causing death; Jews who caused fire for 
 the sake of insurance, without causing 
 death; immoral, degenerate and jingo- 
 istic newspaper men, who receive torture 
 first at the hands of printers' devils: 
 plumbers who did poor jobs on purpose 
 or otherwise and who extorted extrava- 
 gant prices; burglars, and city thieves of 
 whatever profession; and strikers who 
 sought to destroy property or to injure 
 strike-breakers. Anybody else who has 
 lived uncivilly that I may have left out 
 is put in. When they are all pursuing 
 their criminal trades without a thought 
 of danger, happy in their misdeeds, the 
 match is applied and the whole city 
 burns up. Oh, it is a great dis-play. Ha! 
 
 305 
 
there she goes — the fire-warden just re- 
 ceived my telepham." 
 
 Then was a sight to see. Wholly ab- 
 sorbed the travelers stood almost breath- 
 less upon the hill watching the pitiless 
 flames work their destruction. One by 
 one the tall buildings tottered and fell; 
 the smaller houses were more swiftly 
 consumed. Conklin could imagine the 
 poor wretches caught here and there and 
 roasted alive with quivering nerves. 
 Gasping, he shut his eyes and rubbed the 
 pit of his stomach. 
 
 "I pity them!" he uttered hoarsely. 
 
 "So do I," replied Satan with an arch 
 smile; "but what else did you expect to 
 find in the Pit of Correction? Did you 
 ever see a crooked man made straight by 
 the laying on of ordinary hands? Not 
 on your sweet life. These spirits are 
 gradually purged. Once a week I recre- 
 ate both embers of souls and ashes of the 
 town, of which after a fire, as you can 
 see for yourself, there is little left. It is 
 all right. They receive thus the weekly 
 
 ao6 
 
edition, as I like to call the conflagra- 
 tion, of their treatment; oftener than that 
 would be likely to destroy their nervous 
 systems altogether." 
 
 "But I do not quite understand what 
 becomes of the shades from the time of 
 the fire to the next recreation. Arch- 
 fiend." 
 
 "They are in a form similar to abso- 
 lutely unselfish love — they do not exist: 
 because the pyrotechnical application 
 cleanses them so thoroughly for the mo- 
 ment; nevertheless, each spirit, though 
 naught but embers, remembers. Thus 
 between fires they have time for reflec- 
 tion, free even from disturbance from 
 their fellows, whom they themselves can 
 not see, and whose presence they can not 
 feel." 
 
 "Yet, Devil — the pain must be dread- 
 ful!" 
 
 "Dreadful? to souls that heeded not 
 the pain of others while alive? Sweet, 
 boy, sweet — sweet and full of lovely cor- 
 rection. Well, this piece of fire-works is 
 
 207 
 
over. Near-by lies an orchard which I 
 know will be of interest to you, and if 
 you are not averse we shall walk there 
 — just a short way beyond the next hill." 
 
 So together they walked, neither say- 
 ing a word: James's mind dwelt upon 
 the awful pyrotechniques he had viewed 
 almost against his will; and Satan was 
 thinking — who knows? 
 
 When they reached the top of the 
 slope behind which lay the orchard, they 
 heard the sound of singing. It was loud, 
 but far from charming. 
 
 ^What in the deuce!" cried Satan. 
 Then he laughed, and pulled his visitor 
 by the sleeve. ^'Did you ever hear that 
 melody before? The basso surely pos- 
 sesses a bully voice! Why, it is the song 
 of the Minotaur. See him standing by 
 the orchard?" 
 
 "Of all things!" Conklin exclaimed 
 when he perceived from a distance the 
 horridly formed monster chewing an ap- 
 ple between stanzas. "Is he still here? 
 208 
 
What is he doing? What are those 
 torches in the orchard?" 
 
 "His duty is to prevent the spirits 
 from getting any fruit. Torches? Ha! 
 they are not torches, but souls burning 
 from thirst, — souls that climbed through 
 life regardless of the feelings of others." 
 
 "I don't like to look at him, Satan." 
 
 "Don't blame you at all — neither do 
 I. Let's be going." He lifted Conklin 
 once more and bore him to the 'elevator, 
 where they waited patiently for the bell- 
 buoy to answer the call. While they sat 
 there, James remarked pensively: 
 
 "Wouldn't love be a better means of 
 correction than the violent means you 
 apply here in Hell?" 
 
 "Do you fancy that Hell was made 
 for love? Don't you think we know our 
 business? Have I made a study of hu- 
 man nature for centuries for nothing? 
 Love, my dear fellow, should be given to 
 little children, beginning with the cra- 
 dle; and to all people who are capable 
 of receiving and appreciating it; but 
 
 aog 
 
hardened rascals must undergo a severe 
 treatment first to soften them up. A per- 
 son with a hardened heart must have the 
 shell pounded off with a hammer before 
 touching it with precious ointment. Do 
 you believe in casting pearls before 
 swine? We love our correctees; — don't 
 go away with the idea that we hurt them 
 because of hate. Some day they will even 
 thank us for their chastening." 
 
 Charon came at last, and with a busi- 
 ness-like air, which he had learned from 
 Mammon, he took in the Hell-master 
 and James, and carried them downward, 
 yet downward. His flaming eyes wheeled 
 upward with a mournfully thoughtful 
 express-ion, giving him a sad and woeful 
 appearance: no doubt he was rue-minat- 
 ing over his past life as ferry-man, es- 
 pecially the shady side of it. For the 
 moment he looked really religious. 
 
 2X0 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Circus Horribilimus 
 
 "/^OING down! Last floor!" shouted 
 ^^ Charon, opening the gate that leads 
 into the lowest circle of Hell, which is 
 the most horrible. 
 
 "How is it that I have not run across 
 any shades being carried to the various 
 circuses?" the Scotchman demanded as 
 they stepped out of the 'elevator. "Has 
 the business stopped?" 
 
 "Not by any means," answered Satan 
 grimly. "They are being brought down 
 by the back way while you are with us, 
 according to my strict behest. I did not 
 wish you to be dis-turbed by their mourn- 
 ful howls and despairing complaints, 
 which are enough to unnerve a dead 
 man. But let us not dwell upon that sub- 
 ject. I do not like to think of it. I am 
 with it too much as it is. Would you 
 like my job?" 
 
 211 
 
Conklin shook his head sadly, emphat- 
 ically, decisively. 
 
 "Of course not," the Devil continued, 
 "any more than I would like yours. Each 
 man to his own work, which is his in 
 spite of its disagreeable side. Every job 
 has unpleasant features." 
 
 He took his protege firmly by the 
 shoulder to give him courage. "Prepare 
 now to behold hideous things," he said. 
 "Hold yourself together with all your 
 will. Clench your teeth and stiffen your 
 thumbs. We have entered the bottom of 
 the Pit, where the worst and most incor- 
 rigible of the wicked souls are violently 
 corrected. Some people think there are 
 no criminals that can not be made good 
 citizens by applied theory, but they de- 
 ceive themselves. I have had enough ex- 
 perience with people to know that there 
 are many whose motives are hopelessly 
 and helplessly evil. Shall we waste time 
 by being tender with them? Tenderness 
 only makes them worse. Treating them 
 with kindness gives them the more op- 
 
 2za 
 
pottunity to work their cunning. Ab- 
 sence is their best condition." 
 
 Conklin shuddered. "Who are these 
 dreadful culprits?" he cried hoarsely. 
 
 "Murderers who killed useful people; 
 women who influenced others not to have 
 dear little children; all parties to abor- 
 tion ; criminals who went beyond the or- 
 dinary stages of crime in any direction; 
 teachers who selfishly monkeyed with the 
 minds of trusting pupils, especially 
 teachers with artificial systems of pseudo- 
 philosophy and theology; jealous, vain, 
 selfish and inefficient generals; persons 
 who by manufacturing and selling intox- 
 icating liquors caused drunkenness, ab- 
 ject poverty, starvation of soul and body, 
 crime, useless suffering, disease, deform- 
 ity and degeneracy. It would do more 
 harm than good to go into details about 
 the foul acts of these abominable shades, 
 yet you will benefit by seeing some of 
 our methods of correction, of which we 
 are justly proud. 
 
 "This black building at our left is the 
 
 2X3 
 
Inquisitors' Dungeon, where all who tor- 
 tured others merely for religious reasons 
 are broken and re-broken. We borrowed 
 many of our modes from Christian insti- 
 tutions such as the Inquisition, hospitals, 
 mad-houses, asylums, homes for neuras- 
 thenics, and dental offices. You may be 
 sure that we have our breaking tortures 
 performed with religious scrupulous- 
 ness — ha! Do you see that shed built 
 on the main building as an extension? 
 There the nihilists, bomb-throwers, and 
 destructive socialists, and fire-bugs, hav- 
 ing enjoyed picnics in their own section 
 of this circus over to the west, are cast 
 into vacuum-mills and ground up to 
 nothing. The beauty of their correction 
 is that they are corrected once for all — 
 when we finish with them, they are fin- 
 ished — not even an electron is left. But 
 it is right. Now let us use our eyes; 
 you'd better put your pads in your ears 
 and hold your fingers up against them." 
 They crossed a threshold which 
 seemed to Conklin to be running with 
 
 ai4 
 
blood. Dreadful presentiments passed 
 through his mind. He held himself to- 
 gether manfully, however, and tagging 
 on to Satan's arm staggered into the main 
 business hall. Sounds too awful to men- 
 tion beat his sensitive ear-drums almost 
 into pulp, and sights too horrible to 
 speak of met his tender eyes. With a cry 
 he fell in a dead faint. 
 
 "Hell-o!" he dimly heard a voice say 
 some time afterward — how long, he 
 could not tell. "Coming around again?" 
 
 "I guess so," said the patient weakly. 
 "Is that you, Satan, banging tin-pans and 
 drums and kettles in my ears?" 
 
 "No, that was the drummer-boy, dear 
 James." 
 
 "The hammering hurts my head," 
 moaned the latter. 
 
 "That is only the Hamma-melis which 
 I am rubbing on your forehead." 
 
 "I see things, oh, I see things I" 
 
 "So do I." 
 
 "What was that funny story you were 
 telling me when the gun went off and 
 the corpses jumped?" „5 
 
"Funny story? I wasn't telling you a 
 — oh, yes, certainly," answered the Chief 
 of Hades in a soothing tone — he realized 
 that James's brain was in a critical con- 
 dition and that his mind demanded as- 
 sent, not contradiction, "certainly, of 
 course — ha ha! I had begun to relate the 
 tale of how Patrick McCarthy met 
 Michael Sullivan in the shower depart- 
 ment." 
 
 "Tell some more, please!" begged 
 Conklin plaintively. 
 
 "Well, you know, Pat and Mike had 
 been good friends on earth; but it hap- 
 pened that Pat seemed to be religious 
 there, while Mike made no such preten- 
 tions. At any rate, they both of them 
 threw cold water to beat the Dutch, and 
 as a result they had to take their medi- 
 cine when they kicked the bucket. 
 
 "Mike was awfully surprised to meet 
 his old friend face to face, because he 
 expected never to see him again. 
 
 " Thwat an ivint!' he cried out with 
 an oath. 
 
 2K6 
 
" Th' divil of a rrascal ye be!' replied 
 Pat with a string of cuss words longer 
 than Brooklyn Bridge and the Hudson 
 tunnels. ^Sure an' phwy don't yez git in 
 out o' th' rrain? How in Hill did yez 
 happen t' coome here?' 
 
 " ^Oi kicked the bucket, Pat,' says Mike 
 oily like, *an' whin Oi arrived at me sta- 
 ation, th' waterr was jist commincin' t' 
 land. Sure an' how did yez git here 
 yesilf?' 
 
 " *Av coorse Oi kicked th' damned 
 bucket, too, Moike ; but as they war pull- 
 in' me oop in th' pale o' th' choich, th' 
 bottom av th' damned ting fill out, an' 
 th' nixt ting Oi 'noo an imp of Hill had 
 me by the nick!' " 
 
 "Ha ha!" shouted Conklin, "ha ha! ha 
 ha!" His face suddenly resumed its nat- 
 ural expression after his hilarious out- 
 break, and the color returned to his 
 cheeks. He breathed deeply and sat up. 
 
 "What a smell!" he ejaculated, turn- 
 ing his head around to discover whence 
 came the dis-comforting odor. Beside 
 
 ax7 
 
Satan, who was just putting the bottle of 
 witch-hazel away in his hip pocket, stood 
 Charon, the ancient 'elevator boy, with 
 mouth gaping wide open and belching 
 forth its fetid breath. 
 
 "Where am I?" he cried in alarm as 
 he put his fingers to his nose. 
 
 "You are with friends, my boy," an- 
 swered Satan, patting him on the shoul- 
 der. "There is no cause for dis-trust. 
 You are in the 'elevator, and we are tak- 
 ing you home." 
 
 James sank back on the plush cushions 
 like a man who has recovered from a 
 bad vision. "T'ell Charron — t'ell Char- 
 ron — that — if — he — had time to go 
 around from one circus to another, the 
 shades would need no other corrector!" 
 he murmured. 
 
 Satan almost doubled up from laugh- 
 ter, and then motioned to Charon to go 
 back to his lever, which, as they were 
 ascending very slowly in order not to jar 
 James, had been fastened in the notch 
 for the lowest speed. The boy carefully 
 
 2X8 
 
shoved the bar out several notches and 
 sent the car soaring upward like a bird 
 trying out its wings in the morning air. 
 
 "We are nearly there," said the Devil 
 to his visitor after a long period of si- 
 lence. "It has been a great pleasure to 
 have you with us, even for so short a 
 time ; and I am glad that you are in such 
 a good condition after your many won- 
 derful yet harrowing experiences. Had 
 I not known that you were extra strong, 
 I should never have told you and shown 
 you what I have about the human race 
 and its manners after death. Now is there 
 any question you would like to ask be- 
 fore we leave Hell?" 
 
 "Yes, one question," replied Conklm 
 as he staggered to his feet and clung to 
 Satan for support. "What is your t'ele- 
 phone — I mean t'elepath number?" 
 
 "All paths lead toward me. My num- 
 ber is Glaza — 22147, which reaches 
 Mammon, too. Beelzebub's number 
 which also connects with — who is that 
 scholarly devil? oh, yes, Gog — I am al- 
 
 azg 
 
ways forgetting names — is Mourningside 
 3305. Don't hesitate for an instant when- 
 ever you think you need me or wish to 
 ask my advice, which is free to all. 
 
 "Here we are at the ground floor. 
 Wait for me, Charon. How dark it is! 
 What's happened to the lights? No mat- 
 ter, I know the way, — don't be afraid. 
 Yes, keep your asbestos coat for a sou- 
 venir — you may need it some day." 
 
 He seized Conklin scientifically and 
 bore him swiftly up through the cold 
 crater of the mountain to his distant dom- 
 icile, where he placed him tenderly in 
 bed, sleeping. 
 
 "Whether peacefully slumbering or 
 awake and kicking, man is sure to fol- 
 low me," he said to himself as he flew 
 back to the 'elevator, where the trans- 
 formed water-rat impatiently awaited 
 him with wheeling eyes revolving to- 
 ward the ground. 
 
 "Going down!" cried Charon as he 
 threw over the lever; and they descended 
 to the place which was their home. 
 
 END 
 
ERRATUM 
 
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