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My Lady Nicotine: A Study in Smoke, a fiction by James Matthew Barrie |
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Chapter 26. Arcadians At Bay |
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_ CHAPTER XXVI. ARCADIANS AT BAY I have said that Jimmy spent much of his time in contributing to various leading waste-paper baskets, and that of an evening he was usually to be found prone on my hearth-rug. When he entered my room he was ever willing to tell us what he thought of editors, but his meerschaum with the cherry-wood stem gradually drove all passion from his breast, and instead of upbraiding more successful men than himself, he then lazily scribbled letters to them on my wall-paper. The wall to the right of the fireplace was thick with these epistles, which seemed to give Jimmy relief, though William John had to scrape and scrub at them next morning with india-rubber. Jimmy's sarcasm--to which that wall-paper can probably still speak--generally took this form: _To G. Buckle, Esq., Columbia Road, Shoreditch_. SIR:--I am requested by Mr. James Moggridge, editor of the _Times_, to return you the inclosed seven manuscripts, and to express his regret that there is at present no vacancy in the sub-editorial department of the _Times_ such as Mr. Buckle kindly offers to fill. Yours faithfully, P. R. (for J. Moggridge, Ed. _Times_).
DEAR SIR:--I regret to have to return the inclosed paper, which is not quite suitable for the _Nineteenth Century_. I find that articles by unknown men, however good in themselves, attract little attention. I inclose list of contributors for next month, including, as you will observe, seven members of upper circles, and remain your obedient servant, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Nineteenth Century_.
SIR:--I have on two previous occasions begged you to cease sending daily articles to the _Saturday_. Should this continue we shall be reluctantly compelled to take proceedings against you. Why don't you try the _Sporting Times?_ Yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Saturday Review._
DEAR SIRS:--The manuscript which you forwarded for our consideration has received careful attention; but we do not think it would prove a success, and it is therefore returned to you herewith. We do not care to publish third-rate books. We remain yours obediently, J. MOGGRIDGE & CO.
_To H. Quilter, Esq., P.O. Bethnal Green._ SIR:--I have to return your paper on Universal Art. It is not without merit; but I consider art such an important subject that I mean to deal with it exclusively myself. With thanks for kindly appreciation of my new venture, I am yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Universal Review._
SIR:--Yes, I distinctly remember meeting you on the occasion to which you refer, and it is naturally gratifying to me to hear that you enjoy my writing so much. Unfortunately, however, I am unable to accept your generous offer to do Lord Beaconsfield for the "English Men of Letters" series, as the volume has been already arranged for. Yours sincerely, J. MOGGRIDGE,
SIR:--The jokes which you forwarded to _Punch_ on Monday last are so good that we used them three years ago. Yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. _Punch_.
DEAR SIR:--The comic opera by your friends Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan, which you have submitted to me, as sole lessee and manager of the Savoy Theatre, is now returned to you unread. The little piece, judged from its title-page, is bright and pleasing, but I have arranged with two other gentlemen to write my operas for the next twenty-one years. Faithfully yours, J. MOGGRIDGE,
_To James Ruskin, Esq., Railway Station Hotel, Willisden._ SIR:--I warn you that I will not accept any more copies of your books. I do not know the individual named Tennyson to whom you refer; but if he is the scribbler who is perpetually sending me copies of his verses, please tell him that I read no poetry except my own. Why can't you leave me alone? J. MOGGRIDGE, Poet Laureate.
"My dear Jimmy, the curse of journalism is not that editors won't accept our articles, but that they want too many from us." This seemed such monstrous nonsense to Jimmy that he turned his back on Pettigrew, and Gilray broke in with a diatribe against critics. "Critics," said Pettigrew, "are to be pitied rather than reviled." Then Gilray and Jimmy had a common foe. Whether it was Pettigrew's appearance among us or the fireworks outside that made us unusually talkative that night I cannot say, but we became quite brilliant, and when Jimmy began to give us his dream about killing an editor, Gilray said that he had a dream about criticising critics; and Pettigrew, not to be outdone, said that he had a dream of what would become of him if he had to write any more Jubilee articles. Then it was that Marriot suggested a competition. "Let each of the grumblers," he said, "describe his dream, and the man whose dream seems the most exhilarating will get from the judges a Jubilee pound-tin of the Arcadia." The grumblers agreed, but each wanted the others to dream first. At last Jimmy began as follows: _ |