tion, and as a man, a newspaper-man, I am interested. Couldn't
you reconcile your mother, Madame Venus, to Psyche--or, rather, Mrs.
Dan?"

[Illustration: "'THE GODDESS OF THE MOTHER-IN-LAW'"]

"Not for a moment," replied the boy. "Not for a millionth part of a
tenth of a quarter of a second by a stop-watch. Their irreconcilability
was copper-fastened, and I found myself compelled to choose between
them. My mother developed a gray hair the day after the first trouble,
and my wife began to go out to afternoon teas and sewing-circles and
dances. The teas and dances were all right. You can't talk at either.
But the sewing-circle was ruin. At this particular time the circle was
engaged in making winter garments for the children of the mother of
the Gracchi. I presume that as a student and as a father you realize
all that this meant. You also know that a sewing-circle needs four
things: first, an object; second, a needle and thread; third, a
garment; fourth, a subject for conversation. These things are
constitutionally required, and Psyche joined what she called 'The
Immortal Dorcas.' The result was that all Olympus and half of Hades
were shortly acquainted with the confidential workings of my
department--all told under the inviolate bond of secrecy, however,
which requires that each member confided in shall not communicate what
she has heard to more--or to less--than ten people."

"I know," said I. "The Dorcas habit has followers among my own
people."

"But see where it placed me!" cried the little creature. "There was
me, or I--I don't know whether Greek or English is preferable to
you--charged with the love affairs of the universe. Confiding all I
knew, like a dutiful husband, to my wife, and having her letting it
all out to the public through the society. Why, my dear fellow, it
wasn't long before the immortals began to accuse me of being in the
pay of the Sunday newspapers, and you must know as well as anybody
else that Love has nothing to do with them. Even the affairs of my
sovereign began to creep out, and innuendoes connecting Jupiter with
people prominent in society were printed in the opposition organs."

"Poor chap!" said I, sympathetically. "I did not realize that you had
to contend against the Sunday-newspaper nuisance as we mortals have."

"We have," he said, quickly, almost resignedly; "and they are ruining
even Olympus itself. Still, I made a stand. Told Psyche she talked too
much, and from that time o