‘All right. We shall get into Heaven by the first dinner bolt. You cannot arrive at a strange house at a better moment. We shall just have time to dress. I would not spoil my appetite by luncheon. Jupiter keeps a capital cook.’
‘I have heard of Nectar and Ambrosia.’ ‘Poh! nobody touches them. They are regular old-fashioned celestial food, and merely put upon the side-table. Nothing goes down in Heaven now but infernal cookery. We took our chef from Proserpine.’
‘Were you ever in Hell?’
‘Several times. ‘Tis the fashion now among the Olympians to pass the winter there.’ ‘Is this the season in Heaven?’ ‘Yes; you are lucky. Olympus is quite full.’ ‘It was kind of Jupiter to invite me.’ ‘Ay! he has his good points. And, no doubt, he has taken a liking to you, which is all very well. But be upon your guard. He has no heart, and is as capricious as he is tyrannical.’
‘Gods cannot be more unkind to me than men have been.’
‘All those who have suffered think they have seen the worst. A great mistake. However, you are now in the high road to preferment, so we will not be dull. There are some good fellows enough amongst us. You will like old Neptune.’ ‘Is he there now?’
‘Yes, he generally passes his summer with us. There is little stirring in the ocean at that season.’ ‘I am anxious to see Mars.’
‘Oh! a brute, more a bully than a hero. Not at all in the best set. These mustachioed gentry are by no means the rage at present in Olympus. The women are all literary now, and Minerva has quite eclipsed Venus. Apollo is our hero. You must read his last work.’
‘I hate reading.’
‘So do I. I have no time, and seldom do anything in that way but glance at a newspaper. Study and action will not combine.’