King John of Jingalo
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Yet as a matter of fact, the King had only rubbed his hands. And, truly
interpreted, his thoughts ran thus--"Peace? Well, yes, I think that now
I have earned it! Here am I, still King of Jingalo, alive and in my
right mind. During the last few months I have abdicated--put myself off
the throne, and been blown on to it again by a bomb engineered by my own
Prime Minister; I have been arrested, I have been locked up in a police
cell, I have committed robbery, and in my own palace been robbed again.
My daughter has been in prison for ten days as a common criminal; my son
seriously assaulted by the police, and for about four months
surreptitiously engaged to the daughter of an Archbishop; while a
revolutionary and seditious book written by him as a direct attack on
the Constitution and on society has been providentially burned to the
ground--that also, probably, at the instigation of my ministers. And
though all this has been going on in their midst, making history,
bringing changes to pass or preventing them, the people of Jingalo know
nothing whatever about it. What a wonderful country is the country of
Jingalo!"
And at that happy conclusion of the whole matter the King had rubbed his
hands.
THE END