dreadful. To be sure, there have been one or two little indiscretions
connected with his past, and at times he has seemed a bit vindictive
in chucking thunder-bolts at his enemies, but, on the whole, I fancy
he's behaved himself pretty well."

"True," said the boy. "And then you've got to take his bringing-up
into consideration. Things which would be altogether wrong in the son
of a Presbyterian clergyman would not be unbecoming in a descendant of
old Father Time. Jupiter is, after all, a self-made immortal, and the
fact that his parents, old Mr. and Mrs. Cronos, let him grow up sort
of wild, naturally left its impress on his character."

"Of course," said I, somewhat amused to hear the Thunderer's character
analyzed by a mere infant. "But how about yourself, my laddie? Are you
anybody in particular? You look like a cherub."

"Some folks call me Dan," said the boy, "and I _am_ somebody in
particular. Fact is, sir, if it hadn't been for me there wouldn't
have been anybody in particular anywhere. I'm Cupid, sir, God of Love,
favorite son of Venus, at your service."

"And husband of the delectable Psyche?" I cried, recalling certain
facts I had learned. "You look awfully young to be married."

"Hum--well, I was, and I am, but we've separated," the boy replied,
with a note of sadness in his voice. "She was a very nice little
person, that Psyche--one of the best ever, I assure you--but she was
too much of a butterfly to be the perpetual confidante of a person
charged with such important matters as I am. Besides, she didn't get
on with mother."