“That’s Jupiter, my dear, on a bird-of-paradise.”
“And what’s that stick he’s shaking in his hand?”
“That’s his thunderbolt to whip men who aren’t good.”
“Oh! yes; like my school teacher’s switch.”
“Who was this Ixion, my dear?” queried his better half.
“A Roman, I believe. Wait and let me think. Oh, yes! he’s the one that wanted to drive Jupiter’s chariot. He’ll be struck by lightning, as you’ll see.”
“What does that mean, my dear?”
“That means that he’ll be thrown into that big hole, which is hell, and once there——”
“Oh, yes! I understand; then he’ll be struck by lightning; quite right, too.”
“Oh! oh! oh! I’m afraid!” cried a little boy, who had hidden under the chairs.