‘Ah!—It is a gift from the great god,’ said the emperor complacently; ‘it is the view that always lies just over the hill.’
THE ROOM OF LOST SOULS
ONE day, the Newspaper King, inspecting his office premises, came upon a little door in an upper part of the building. Turning to his private secretary, who was at his elbow, he said: ‘I don’t remember seeing this little door before. What is the room used for?’
‘Well, sir, it is only a lumber room,’ replied the secretary, ‘and it is used now for souls.’
‘For souls?’—The great man was surprised.
‘Yes, for souls. We use it for storing the souls that you have bought from time to time. Those of the staff, you know, sir, and others,’ the secretary answered, adding apologetically: ‘I know, because I peeped in the other day, and saw my own. It is in the top right hand corner.’
‘Ah—um!’ The Newspaper King mused for a moment, then, with one of those flashes of inspiration which have made his name famous: ‘Could make something out of it for the dull season. Tell Daly to do a special. Call it “Queerest Room in London”—or similar title. Get comments from Bishops—two will do.’
And he passed on, outlining to the secretary as he went, the rules for the new £10,000 competition for Piebald Rabbits.
THE CYNICISM OF ABSOLUTE MONARCHIES
THE KING was dying.