The Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. Locke

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Title: Simon the Jester

Author: William J. Locke

Release Date: April 13, 2006 [EBook #3828]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIMON THE JESTER ***

Produced by Dagny; John Bickers

SIMON THE JESTER

By William J. Locke

CHAPTER I

I met Renniker the other day at the club. He is a man who knows
everything--from the method of trimming a puppy's tail for a dog-show,
without being disqualified, to the innermost workings of the mind of
every European potentate. If I want information on any subject under
heaven I ask Renniker.

"Can you tell me," said I, "the most God-forsaken spot in England?"

Renniker, being in a flippant mood, mentioned a fashionable
watering-place on the South Coast. I pleaded the seriousness of my
question.

"What I want," said I, "is a place compared to which Golgotha, Aceldama,
the Dead Sea, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Bowery would be leafy
bowers of uninterrupted delight."

"Then Murglebed-on-Sea is what you're looking for," said Renniker. "Are
you going there at once?"

"At once," said I.

"It's November," said he, "and a villainous November at that; so you'll
see Murglebed-on-Sea in the fine flower of its desolation."

I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers.

"Rogers," said I, "I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed
is a nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me and
bring back a report."

He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he
returned with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a
well-equipped pantry, had wandered into a charnel house.

"It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station.
The shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are like
cannibals."

"I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow," said I.

Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child
preparing to cry.

"We can't possibly stay there, sir," he remonstrated.

"_We_ are not going to try," I retorted. "I'm going by myself."

His face brightened. Almo