"Still," I put in, "a caddie with no pockets is a very safe person to intrust with golf balls."
"That's very true," said Adonis, "and I suppose the cherubs make as good caddies as we can expect. Caddies will be caddies, and that's the end of it. You can't expect a caddie to do just right any more than you can expect water to flow uphill. There are certain immutable laws of the universe which are as unchangeable in Olympus as on earth or in Hades. Ice is cold, fire is hot, water is wet, and caddies are caddies."
"Very true," said I, reflecting upon the ways of "Some Caddies I have Met." "What do you pay them a round?"
"One hundred and twenty-five dollars," said Adonis.
"Cheap enough," said I. "But tell me, Adonis," I continued, "who is your amateur champion?"
"Jupiter, of course," said Adonis, with an impatient shake of his head. "He's champion of everything. It's one of his prerogatives. We don't any of us dare win a cup from him for fear he'll use his power to destroy us. That is one of the features of this Olympian life that is not pleasant—though, for goodness' sake, don't say I told you! He'd send me into perpetual exile if he knew I'd spoken that way. He's threatened to make me Governor-General of the Dipper half a dozen times already for things I've said, and I have to be very careful, or he'll do it."
"An unpleasant post, that?"
"Well," he said, "I don't exactly know how to compare it so that you would understand precisely. I should say, however, it would be about as agreeable as being United States ambassador to Borneo."