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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"

I smiled indulgently at Lola's devotion to the cats and
congratulated her on having found another means whereby to beguile the
_tedium vitae_ which is the arch-enemy of content.
"I wish I could find such a means myself," said I.
I not only had the wish, but the imperative need to so do. To stand like
Ajax defying the lightning is magnificent, but as a continuous avocation
it is wearisome and unprofitable, especially if carried on in a tiny
bachelor suite, an eyrie of a place, at the top of a block of flats in
Victoria Street. Indeed, if I did not add soon to the meagre remains of
my fortune, I should not be able to afford the luxury of the bachelor
suite. Conscious of this, I left the lightning alone, after a last
denunciatory shake of the fist, and descended into the busy ways of men
to look for work.
Thus I entered on the second stage of my career--that of a soldier
of Fortune. At first I was doubtful as to what path to glory and
bread-and-butter I could carve out for myself. Hitherto I had been
Fortune's darling instead of her mercenary, and she had most politely
carved out my paths for me, until she had played her jade's trick
and left me in the ditch.


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