“Of course, Adonis,” said I, “I’m not so green as to swallow all that.  How the dickens can you walk through space?”

“You’re vastly greener than you think you are,” he retorted, rather uncivilly, perhaps, for a valet, but I paid no attention to that, preferring to take him, despite his menial capacity, in his godlike personality.  “I might even say, sir, that your greenness is spacious.  You judge us from your own mean, limited, mundane point of view.  But you needn’t think because you earth people cannot walk on air we Olympians are equally incapacitated.  You can walk there in two ways.  One of these is to fasten a pair of ankle-wings on your legs; the other is to purchase a pair of sky-scrapers.  These are simple, consisting merely of boots with gas soles.  You inflate the soles with gas and walk along.  It’s simple and easy, doesn’t require any practice, and as long as you keep up in the air and don’t step on church steeples or weather-vanes it’s perfectly safe.  Of course, if you stepped on a sharp-pointed weather-vane, or a lightning-rod, and punctured your sole, there’s no telling what would happen.”

“And how about the wings?” I asked.

“They’re much more exhilarating, but a little dangerous if you don’t know how to use them,” Adonis replied.  “Flying isn’t any easier than roller-skating, and if you upset and get your head below your feet it’s extremely difficult to right yourself again.  If you try to go out there with ankle-wings, take my advice and wear a pair of small balloons about your chest to hold you right-end upward.”

“I’ll remember,” said I, somewhat awed at the prospect of trying to walk through space with the aid of ankle-wings.  “And how about the bicycle?” I added.

“If you can ride a bicycle on an ordinary road you’ll have no trouble,” he replied.  “Keep your tires well filled with gas and avoid headers.  If I were you, though, at first I’d go out on the automobile.  It makes six round trips a day and it’s absolutely safe.  Being so high up in the air might make you dizzy, and you might find the bicycling too much for your nerves.  After a little while you’ll get used to enormous heights, and then, of course, you can go any old way you choose.  The fare for the round trip is only fifteen hundred dollars.”

“The automobile is in competent hands, eh?”

“Yes,” said Adonis.  “Phaeton has charge of it.”

“Humph!” I sneered.  “He’s your idea of a competent driver, eh?  He hasn’t that reputation on earth.  Was it an untruth that credits him with a fine smash-up when he tried to drive the chariot of the sun?”