"John Murray is settled in his plush, canary drawing room and is in the humour for a day of amusement. There is little else to do, Friday or not, as it is November and it is raining too heavily to consider his habitual ride in Hyde Park or even an outing to the club. The park this afternoon will be nothing but a morass of mud, for the weather has been frightful for over a week now. Murray's desk is scattered with manuscripts though he has spent the last two days reading and discarding a very large pile of what has been sent to him. There seems to be rather a vogue at present for ladies writing poetry about the evils of slavery or worse - novels. Mr. Murray naturally deplores the institution of slavery and is a hearty proponent of emancipation, however, in all likelihood, he deplores the poetry and novels of ladies who espouse The Cause far more. Even the measured script of their handwriting sets his teeth on edge, for manuscripts written by a man, in his opinion, have more character. After subjecting himself to over two dozen attempts at capturing the spirit of the age this morning alone, he'd be hard pressed to make a choice between banning slavery and banning well-meaning ladies with any pretensions to literary prowess."
From Secret of the Sands
... below the Whipple line?
Posted by: lindsay | 26 January 2011 at 10:13 PM