excellent one," said Mr. Munchausen. "He is a lad of
wide experience and his fish and bear stories are wonderful. If he can
make them gee, as he would put it, with his doctrines he would prove a
tremendous success. Thousands would flock to hear him for his bear
stories alone. As for the foolishness of his choice, I think it is a
very wise one. Everybody can't be a stoker, you know."

At any rate, whatever the reasons for Beelzebub's presence, whether he
had given up the study of theology or not, there he was plying his old
vocation with the same perfection of carelessness as of yore, and
apparently no farther along in the study of theology than he was the
year before when he bade Mr. Munchausen "good-bye forever" with the
statement that now that he was going to lead a pious life the chances
were he'd never meet his friend again.

"I don't see why they keep such a careless boy as that," said
Sapphira, as Beelzy at the first landing turned to grin at Mr.
Munchausen, emptying the contents of one of his pitchers into the lap
of a nervous old gentleman in the office below.

"He adds an element of excitement to a not over-exciting place,"
explained Mr. Munchausen. "On stormy days here the men make bets on
what fool thing Beelzy will do next. He blacked all the russet shoes
with stove polish one year, and last season in the rush of his daily
labours he filled up the water-cooler with soft coal instead of ice.
He's a great bell-boy, is my friend Beelzy."

A little while later when Mr. Munchausen and his party had been shown
to their suite, Beelzy appeared in their drawing-room and was warmly
greeted by Mr. Munchausen, who introduced him to Mr. and Mrs. Ananias.

"Well," said Mr. Munchausen, "you're here again, are you?"

"No, indeed," said Beelzy. "I ain't here this year. I'm over at the
Coal-Yards shovellin' snow. I'm my twin brother that died three years
before I was born."

"How interesting," said Sapphira, looking at the boy through her
lorgnette.

Beelzy bowed in response to the compliment and observed to the Baron:

"You ain't here yourself this season, be ye?"

"No," said Mr. Munchausen, drily. "I've gone abroad. You've given up
theology I presume?"

"Sorter," said Beelzy. "It was lonesome business and I hadn't been at
it more'n twenty minutes when I realised that bein' a missionary ain't
all jam and buckwheats. It's kind o' dangerous too, and as I didn't
exactly relish the idea o' bein' et up by Samoans an'