Semper Idem Page #2

"Semper Idem" by Jack London is a thought-provoking novella that explores the themes of identity, fate, and moral choice. Set against the backdrop of a changing society, the story delves into the complexities of human relationships and the struggle for individual integrity. Through its richly drawn characters and poignant narrative, London examines the idea of remaining true to oneself in a world that often pressures conformity. This work showcases London's trademark blend of adventure and philosophy, encouraging readers to reflect on their own values and the essence of their being.

• Novel

								

He examined the throat of the convalescent carefully, idling over the
hideous scar with the lingering, half-caressing fondness of a parent.
It was not a particularly pleasing sight. An angry line circled the
throat--for all the world as though the man had just escaped the
hangman's noose--and, disappearing below the ear on either side, had the
appearance of completing the fiery periphery at the nape of the neck.

Maintaining his dogged silence, yielding to the other's examination in
much the manner of a leashed lion, Semper Idem betrayed only his desire
to drop from out of the public eye.

"Well, I'll not keep you," Doctor Bicknell finally said, laying a hand
on the man's shoulder and stealing a last glance at his own handiwork.
"But let me give you a bit of advice. Next time you try it on, hold
your chin up, so. Don't snuggle it down and butcher yourself like a cow.
Neatness and despatch, you know. Neatness and despatch."

Semper Idem's eyes flashed in token that he heard, and a moment later
the hospital door swung to on his heel.

It was a busy day for Doctor Bicknell, and the afternoon was well along
when he lighted a cigar preparatory to leaving the table upon which it
seemed the sufferers almost clamoured to be laid. But the last one, an
old rag-picker with a broken shoulder-blade, had been disposed of, and
the first fragrant smoke wreaths had begun to curl about his head, when
the gong of a hurrying ambulance came through the open window from
the street, followed by the inevitable entry of the stretcher with its
ghastly freight.

"Lay it on the table," the Doctor directed, turning for a moment to
place his cigar in safety. "What is it?"

"Suicide--throat cut," responded one of the stretcher bearers. "Down on
Morgan Alley. Little hope, I think, sir. He's 'most gone."

"Eh? Well, I'll give him a look, anyway." He leaned over the man at the
moment when the quick made its last faint flutter and succumbed.

"It's Semper Idem come back again," the steward said.

"Ay," replied Doctor Bicknell, "and gone again. No bungling this time.
Properly done, upon my life, sir, properly done. Took my advice to the
letter. I'm not required here. Take it along to the morgue."

Doctor Bicknell secured his cigar and relighted it. "That," he said
between the puffs, looking at the steward, "that evens up for the one
you lost last night. We're quits now."
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