ng, snapping, snarling, constantly running away and returning
like gnats dancing over a marsh. The holy man sat doggedly at the entrance
of his cavern, with an expression of fathomless stupidity, which seemed to
defy all the fiends of the Thebaid to get an idea into his head, or make
him vary his attitude by a single inch.

"These people did not exist in our time," said Apollo aloud, "or at least
they knew their place, and behaved themselves."

"Sir," said a comparatively grave and respectable demon, addressing the
stranger, "I should wish your peregrinity to understand that these imps are
mere schoolboys--my pupils, in fact. When their education has made further
progress they will be more mannerly, and will comprehend the folly of
pestering an unintellectual old gentleman like this worthy Pachymius with
beauty for which he has no eyes, and gold for which he has no use, and
dainties for which he has no palate, and learning for which he has no head.
But _I'll_ wake him up!" And waving his pupils away, the paedagogic fiend
placed himself at the anchorite's ear, and shouted into it--

"Nonnus is to be Bishop of Panopolis!"

The hermit's features were instantly animated by an expression of envy and
hatred.

"Nonnus!" he exclaimed, "the heathen poet, to have the see of Panopolis, of
which _I_ was promised the reversion!"

"My dear sir," suggested Apollo, "it is all very well to enliven the
reverend eremite; but don't you think it is rather a liberty to make such
jokes at the expense of my good friend Nonnus?"

"There is no liberty," said the demon, "for there is no joke. Recanted on
Monday. Baptized yesterday. Ordained to-day. To be consecrated to-morrow."

The anchorite poured forth a torrent of the choicest ecclesiastical curses,
until he became speechless from exhaustion, and Apollo, profiting by the
opportunity, addressed the demon:

"Would it be an unpardonable breach of politeness, respected sir, if I
ventured to hint that the illusions your pupils have been trying to impose
upon this venerable man have in some small measure impaired the confidence
with which I was originally inspired by your advantageous personal
appearance?"

"Not in the least," replied the demon, "especially as I can easily make my
words good. If you and Pachymius will mount my back I will transport you
to Panopolis, where you can verify my assertion for yourselves."

The Deity and the anchorite promptly consented, and seated themselves