“Not so!” he exclaimed, “see their exclusive bowers which line the boulevard and into which they pass now and again? In those massive places they quench their thirst by sucking the juice from the acrid grapes of Ennui.” I pondered once more, but said nothing. The path we were treading led toward the edge of the park. We walked on, fist on fist, which is a sign of cordiality in the Excelsior’s country. I had never known my host to be so familiar. Presently we came to a curve in our path, and there, hidden by a row of privet bushes was a long bench with arms at each seat for comfort. All of the occupants of this settee were women. “I did not think that you had them in here, too;” I said sadly. “Oh yes” said the Axilla, “that bench is reserved exclusively for them.” “Why is that?” “Because it looks more comfortable than the others, but in reality it is hard and poses them in unnatural postures. How they paint and powder, and their cologne fairly makes me ill. I guess that you recognize them,” concluded the Excelsior, eyeing me slyly, “they are the sort whom you meet seldom by day, and who abound late at night.” “Yes, I imagined as much; but, sire, I am again at a loss to account for their being exhibited here.” “You are not very bright, or else you sham stupidity,” quoth the Great Axilla, “surely you know that a strumpet is both an unfit and a misfit--isn’t she? She is a product of your civilization just as much as those poor men whom you saw sitting on the other side of this transformed, grass-growing ash heap.” I did not have a word to reply, and I hung my head in silence. “But,” said the Excelsior, “they enjoy a severe privilege. They drink not only at the Fountain of Endurance, but are also allowed to suck the acrid grapes of Ennui.” As we passed out of the inclosure, my royal host turned to me and said: “What think you is the motto that I have had placed over this exhibit of individuals who have nothing to do? Read--there it is.” He pointed to a sign, bearing these immense letters of gold: IDLERS ARE NOT TO BE ENVIED. “Now, my little visitor,” quoth he, “you have wearied me sufficiently for the present. Perhaps you yourself may also enjoy a little sleep.” XI I am seated in my room at a hotel in the city of New York. The proprietor told me that there is a large closet between my room and Sandy’s which was reserved and locked by the former occupant of these rooms. I dislike privacy within my own privacy.