To try to
tell all her loveliness, her sweet, strong, virginal soul, her wisdom,
her purity, her brave independence, to picture all this in words, no
matter how inadequate, I shall see her with the eyes of Memory; she
will be back with me in spirit.... A book! Jerry, O Jeremy, this is an
excellent thought.... to see her again ... to talk with her by means
of pen and ink!"
In my eagerness I started up to my feet; then, the hot fit, passing,
gave place to the cold, and Doubt leapt to seize me. "But I've never
tried to write a book! Who am I to write a book?"
"Lord, don't be down-hearted afore you try, lad!" admonished the
Tinker, for I had spoken this doubt aloud. "There's times in all
writers' lives when they haven't writ a line, yet books are written
all the same. Books ain't made, lad; they happen and they happen
because a cove has an eye to see a little way beneath the surface o'
things and an ear as can hear voices in the wind, an' a mind as
discovers sum'mat in everything to wonder at. So he goes on lookin'
an' listenin' an' wonderin' till one day out it has to come--an'
there's your book. Now you're full up o' love, ain't you?"
"Yes, Jerry."
"Good! Well, write it down. There's nothing goes better in a nov-el
than love, except blood--a splash or so here an' there, battle, murder
an' sudden death--just a tang or so t' season it. I know, for I used
t' sell nov-els once, ah, an' read 'em too! But love's the thing, lad!
Everybody loves to read o' love--'specially old codgers, d'ye
see--gouty old coves as curse their servants, swear at their families
and, hid in corners, shed tears over the woes o' the hero an' heroine
o' some nov-el an' stub their gouty toe a-kickin' of the villain.
Pages:
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321