"Bangs, John Kendrick - Houseboat on the Styx 01 - A Houseboat on the Styx" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bangs John Kendrick)

"Ship ahoy!"

There was no answer, and the Ferryman hailed her again. Receiving no
response to his second call, he resolved to investigate for himself;
so, fastening his own boat to the stern-post of the stranger, he
clambered on board. If he was astonished as he sat in his ferry-
boat, he was paralyzed when he cast his eye over the unwelcome vessel
he had boarded. He stood for at least two minutes rooted to the
spot. His eye swept over a long, broad deck, the polish of which
resembled that of a ball-room floor. Amidships, running from three-
quarters aft to three-quarters forward, stood a structure that in its
lines resembled, as Charon had intimated, a barn, designed by an
architect enamoured of Florentine simplicity; but in its construction
the richest of woods had been used, and in its interior arrangement
and adornment nothing more palatial could be conceived.

"What's the blooming thing for?" said Charon, more dismayed than
ever. "If they start another line with a craft like this, I'm very
much afraid I'm done for after all. I wouldn't take a boat like mine
myself if there was a floating palace like this going the same way.
I'll have to see the Commissioners about this, and find out what it
all means. I suppose it'll cost me a pretty penny, too, confound
them!"

A prey to these unhappy reflections, Charon investigated further, and
the more he saw the less he liked it. He was about to encounter
opposition, and an opposition which was apparently backed by persons
of great wealth--perhaps the Commissioners themselves. It was a
consoling thought that he had saved enough money in the course of his
career to enable him to live in comfort all his days, but this was
not really what Charon was after. He wished to acquire enough to
retire and become one of the smart set. It had been done in that
section of the universe which lay on the bright side of the Styx, why
not, therefore, on the other, he asked.

"I'm pretty well connected even if I am a boatman," he had been known
to say. "With Chaos for a grandfather, and Erebus and Nox for
parents, I've just as good blood in my veins as anybody in Hades.
The Noxes are a mighty fine family, not as bright as the Days, but
older; and we're poor--that's it, poor--and it's money makes caste
these days. If I had millions, and owned a railroad, they'd call me
a yacht-owner. As I haven't, I'm only a boatman. Bah! Wait and
see! I'll be giving swell functions myself some day, and these
upstarts will be on their knees before me begging to be asked. Then
I'll get up a little aristocracy of my own, and I won't let a soul
into it whose name isn't mentioned in the Grecian mythologies.
Mention in Burke's peerage and the Elite directories of America won't
admit anybody to Commodore Charon's house unless there's some other
mighty good reason for it."