For weeks there
does not appear a single word. Then comes an alarmingly business-like
minute of a meeting at which there were--"Present: Jephson,
MacShaughnassy, Brown, and Self"; and at which the "Proceedings commenced
at 8.30." At what time the "proceedings" terminated, and what business
was done, the chronicle, however, sayeth not; though, faintly pencilled
in the margin of the page, I trace these hieroglyphics: "3.14.9-2.6.7,"
bringing out a result of "1.8.2." Evidently an unremunerative night.
On September 13th we seem to have become suddenly imbued with energy to a
quite remarkable degree, for I read that we "Resolved to start the first
chapter at once"--"at once" being underlined. After this spurt, we rest
until October 4th, when we "Discussed whether it should be a novel of
plot or of character," without--so far as the diary affords
indication--arriving at any definite decision. I observe that on the
same day "Mac told a story about a man who accidentally bought a camel at
a sale." Details of the story are, however, wanting, which, perhaps, is
fortunate for the reader.
On the 16th, we were still debating the character of our hero; and I see
that I suggested "a man of the Charley Buswell type."
Poor Charley, I wonder what could have made me think of him in connection
with heroes; his lovableness, I suppose--certainly not his heroic
qualities.
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