njoyed the rather doubtful
reputation of being a great critic in such wares, "the best cloth is
beautiful hair," and he passed his hands through the locks of a
Ganymede who was kneeling near him.

"But, Kallistratos, I hope those flutes are of the female sex. Up with
the curtain; let the girls in."

"Not yet," ordered Cethegus. "First drink, then kiss. Without Bacchus
and Ceres, you know----"

"Venus freezes, but not Massurius!"

All at once lyres and citharas sounded from the side room, and there
entered a procession of eight youths in shining silken garments of a
gold-green colour. Foremost the "dresser" and the "carver." The other
six bore dishes upon their heads. They passed the guests with measured
steps, and halted at the sideboard of citron-wood. While they were busy
there, castanets and cymbals were heard from another part of the house;
the large double doors turned upon their shining bronze hinges, and a
swarm of slaves in the becoming costume of Corinthian youths streamed
into the room.

Some handed bread in ornamentally-perforated baskets; others whisked
the flies away with fans of ostrich feathers and palm-leaves; some
gracefully poured oil into the wall-lamps from double-handled vases;
whilst others swept the crumbs from the mosaic pavement with besoms of
Egyptian reeds, or helped Ganymede to fill the cups, which now were
circling merrily.

The conversation grew more rapid and animated, and Cethegus, who,
although he remained cool and collected, seemed to be quite lost in the
enjoyment of the moment, charmed the young guests by his youthful
gaiety.

"What do you say?" asked the host, "shall we play dice between the
dishes? There stands the dice-box, near Piso."

"Well, Massurius," observed Cethegus, with a sarcastic look at the
slave-dealer, "will you try your luck with me once more? Will you bet
against me? Give him the dice-box, Syphax," he said to the Moor.

"Mercury forbid!" answered Massurius, with comical fright. "Have
nothing to do with the Prefect he has inherited the luck of his
ancestor, Julius Caesar."

"Omen accipio!" laughed Cethegus. "I accept the omen, with the dagger
of Brutus into the bargain."

"I tell you, he is a magician! Only lately he won an unwinnable bet
against me about this black demon," and the speaker threw a cactus-fig
at the slave's face, but Syphax caught it cleverly with his shining
white teeth, and quietly ate it up.

"Well done, Syphax!" said Cethegus. "Ro