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A Friend of Caesar - A Tale of the Fall of the Roman Republic. Time, 50-47 B.C. by William Stearns Davis
page 28 of 560 (05%)
police worth mentioning; freshets every now and then; fires every day
or else a building tumbles down. And then they must wake me up at an
unearthly hour in the morning. Curses on me for ever coming near the
place!" And the speaker rolled over on the bed, and shook himself,
preparatory to getting up.

"Bah! Can these Roman dogs never learn that power is to be used, not
abused? Why don't they spend some of their revenues to level these
seven hills that shut off the light, and straighten and widen their
abominable, ill-paved streets, and keep houses from piling up as if to
storm Olympus? Pshaw, I had better stop croaking, and be up and
about."

The speaker sat up in bed, and clapped his hands. Into the ill-lighted
and unpretentiously furnished room came a tall, bony, ebon-skinned old
Ethiopian, very scantily attired, who awaited the wishes of his
master.

"Come, Sesostris," said the latter, "get out my best
_himation_[26]--the one with the azure tint. Give me a clean
_chiton_,[27] and help me dress."

[26] Greek outer mantle.

[27] Greek under garment.

And while the servant bustled briskly about his work, Pratinas, for
such was his lord's name, continued his monologue, ignoring the
presence of his attendant. "Not so bad with me after all. Six years
ago to-day it was I came to Rome, with barely an obol of ready money,
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