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Updated: May 29, 2025
Beasley was picking himself up, and brushing his trousers with his hands. "Now, it's your turn, Bill. What say?" Silence again, followed by, "Yes, I'll make Simpledoria get out of the way. Come here, Simpledoria. Now, Bill, put your heels together on the edge of the walk. That's right. All ready? Now then! One for the money two for the show three to make ready and four for to GO!" Another silence.
He brought him home here the very day before you passed the house and saw poor Dave getting up at four in the morning to let that ghost in. And a mighty funny ghost Simpledoria is!" "I begin to understand," I said, "and to feel pretty silly, too." "Not at all," he rejoined, heartily. "That little chap's freaks would mystify anybody, especially with Dave humoring 'em the ridiculous way he does.
A light shone in the hallway behind the broad front doors; one of these was opened, and revealed in silhouette the tall, thin figure of a man in a long, old-fashioned dressing-gown. "Simpledoria," he said, addressing the night air with considerable severity, "I don't know what to make of you. You might have caught your death of cold, roving out at such an hour.
I stopped, thinking that he meant to attract my attention; that something might be wrong; that perhaps some one was needed to go for a doctor. My mistake was immediately evident, however; I stood in the shadow of the trees bordering the sidewalk, and the man at the window had not seen me. "Boy! Boy!" he called, softly. "Where are you, Simpledoria?" He leaned from the window, looking downward.
"But that's something," she returned, encouragingly "at least the beginning of wisdom." "I mean about Mr. Beasley the mystery I was absurd enough to find in 'Simpledoria. I want to tell you " "Oh, I know," she said; and although she laughed with an effect of carelessness, that look which I had thought "far away" returned to her eyes as she spoke.
"They bow when they happen to meet, but they haven't exchanged a word since the night she sent him away, long ago." He shook his head, then his countenance cleared and he chuckled. "Well, sir, Dave's got something at home to keep him busy enough, these days, I expect!" "Do you mind telling me?" I inquired. "Is its name 'Simpledoria'?" Mr. Dowden threw back his head and laughed loudly. "Lord, no!
The front window in the second story, I decided, necessarily belonged to that room in which the lamp had been lighted; but all was dark there now. I went to bed, and dreamed that I was out at sea in a fog, having embarked on a transparent vessel whose preposterous name, inscribed upon glass life-belts, depending here and there from an invisible rail, was SIMPLEDORIA. Mrs.
But there," he continued, more indulgently; "wipe your feet on the mat and come in. You're safe NOW!" He closed the door, and I heard him call to some one up-stairs, as he rearranged the fastenings: "Simpledoria is all right only a little chilled. I'll bring him up to your fire."
"Why, THERE you are!" he exclaimed, and turned to address some invisible person within the room. "He's right there, underneath the window. I'll bring him up." He leaned out again. "Wait there, Simpledoria!" he called. "I'll be down in a jiffy and let you in." Puzzled, I stared at the vacant lawn before me.
She interrupted me, speaking with sudden, surprising energy, "I mean he's a man of no imagination." "No imagination!" I exclaimed. "None in the world! Not one ounce of imagination! Not one grain!" "Then who," I cried "or what is Simpledoria?" "Simple what?" she said, plainly mystified. "Simpledoria." "Simpledoria?" she repeated, and laughed. "What in the world is that?"
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