THE BURIED TREASURE. 247

Phil. “This is a pretty business I have let myself.
in for. However, it has to be done. What is the
use of trying to cross one’s son? It only breeds
trouble for oneself, and does ‘no sort of good. But
here comes the young man himself in the nick of
time.”

And, indeed, Lesbionicus had just come out of
his house in consultation with his slave Stasimus.
“ Stasimus,” he said, “it is just a fortnight since Cal-
licles paid me two hundred pounds for my house.
Is it not so?”

Stasimus. “I do remember something about it.”

Lesbionicus. “Well, what has become of the
money?”

Stas. “Eaten away, drunk away, bathed away;
the fishmongers, bakers, cooks, butchers, green-gro-
cers, poulterers have got it. They are like so many
ants with a poppy-head.”

Les. “T don’t think they had more than five and
twenty pounds.”

Stas. “Then there are the presents you made.”

Les. “ Put them down at as much more.”

Stas. ‘Then there is what I cheated you of.”

Les. “Ah! that is more than either.”

Stas. “Then you had to pay fifty pounds to the
bank for Olympias, the money you were surety for.”

Les. “Ah! poor fellow, I could not refuse to
help. I was so sorry for him.”

Stas. “I wish you would be sorry for yourself.”