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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"


But what a pother about a simple act of charity! In order to repeat it
habitually I shall have to rely on the fortuitous attendance of a boy
and a policeman, or have a policeman and a boy permanently attached to
my person, which would be as agreeable as the continuous escort of a
jackdaw and a yak.

Poor Latimer is having a dreadful time. Apparently my ten thousand
pounds have vanished like a snowflake on the river of liabilities. How
he is to repay me he does not know. He wishes he had not yielded to
temptation and had allowed himself to be honestly hammered. Then
he could have taken his family to sing in the streets with a quiet
conscience.
"My dear fellow," said I through the telephone this morning. "What are
ten thousand pounds to me?"
I heard him gasp at the other end.
"But you're not a millionaire!"
"I am!" I cried triumphantly. And now I come to think of it, I spoke
truly. If a man reckons his capital as half a year's income, doubles it,
and works out the capital that such a yearly income represents, he is
the possessor of a mint of money.


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