下载辰思小说免费APP
Yesterday，Sunday，theRev。Dr。Browne，secretarytotheWesleyanMission，andthemanwhomadethewarintheWesternIslandsandwastriedforhislifeinFiji，cameup，andwehadalong，importanttalkaboutSamoa。O，ifIcouldonlytalktothehomemen！Butwhatwoulditmatter？noneofthemknow，noneofthemcare。IfwecouldonlyhaveMacgregorherewithhisschooner，youwouldhearofnomoretroublesinSamoa。Thatiswhatwewant；amanthatknowsandlikesthenatives，QUIPAYEDESAPERSONNE，ANDisnotafraidofhangingwhennecessary。Wedon’twantblandSwedishhumbugs，andfussy，fosteringGermanbarons。Thatwaythemaelstromlies，andweshallsoonbeinit。
Ihaveto-daywritten103and104，allperfectlywrong，andshallhavetorewritethem。Thistaleisdevilish，andChapterXI。theworstofthelot。ThetruthisofcoursethatIamwhollyworkedout；butit’snearlydone，andshallgosomehowaccordingtopromise。Igoagainstallmygods，andsayitisNOTWORTHWHILEtomassacreyourselfoverthelastfewpagesofarancidyarn，thatthereviewerswillquitejustlyteartobits。AsforD。B。，nohope，Ifear，thismail，butwe’llseewhattheafternoondoesforme。
Well，it’sdone。Thosetragic16pp。areatlastfinished，andIhaveputawaythirty-twopagesofchips，andhavespentthirteendaysaboutasnearlyinHellasamancouldexpecttolivethrough。It’sdone，andofcourseitain’tworthwhile，andwhocares？Thereitis，andaboutasgrimataleaswaseverwritten，andasgrimy，andashateful。
J。L。HUISH，BORN1856，ATHACKNEY，LONDON，AccidentallykilleduponthisIsland，10thSeptember，1889。
Iamexultingtodonothing。Itpourswithrainfromthewestward，veryunusualkindofweather；Iwasstandingoutonthelittleverandahinfrontofmyroomthismorning，andtherewentthroughmeorovermeawaveofextraordinaryandapparentlybaselessemotion。Iliterallystaggered。Andthentheexplanationcame，andIknewIhadfoundaframeofmindandbodythatbelongedtoScotland，andparticularlytotheneighbourhoodofCallander。Veryoddtheseidentitiesofsensation，andtheworldofconnotationsimplied；highlandhuts，andpeatsmoke，andthebrown，swirlingrivers，andwetclothes，andwhiskey，andtheromanceofthepast，andthatindescribablebiteofthewholethingataman’sheart，whichis-orratherliesatthebottomof-astory。
Idon’tknowifyouareaBarbeyd’Aurevilly-an。Iam。I
haveagreatdelightinhisNormanstories。DoyouknowtheCHEVALIERDESTOUCHESandL’ENSORCELEE？Theyareadmirable，theyreekofthesoilandthepast。ButIwasratherthinkingjustnowofLERIDEAUCRAMOISI，anditsadorablesettingofthestoppedcoach，thedarkstreet，thehome-goingintheinnyard，andtheredblindilluminated。Withoutdoubt，THEREwasanidentityofsensation；oneofthoseconjunctionsinlifethathadfilledBarbeyfulltothebrim，andpermanentlybenthismemory。
IwonderexceedinglyifIhavedoneanythingatallgood；andwhocantellme？andwhyshouldIwishtoknow？Insolittleawhile，I，andtheEnglishlanguage，andthebonesofmydescendants，willhaveceasedtobeamemory！Andyet-andyet-onewouldliketoleaveanimageforafewyearsuponmen’sminds-forfun。Thisisaverydarkframeofmind，consequentonoverworkandtheconclusionoftheexcruciatingEBBTIDE。Adieu。
WhatdoyousupposeshouldbedonewithTHEEBBTIDE？Itwouldmakeavolumeof200pp。；ontheotherhand，Imightlikelyhavesomemorestoriessoon:THEOWL，DEATHINTHE
POT，THESLEEPERAWAKENED；allthesearepossible。THEOWL
mightbehalfaslong；THESLEEPERAWAKENED，ditto；DEATHIN
THEPOTadealshorter，Ibelieve。Thenthere’stheGO-
BETWEEN，whichisnotimpossiblealtogether。THEOWL，THE
SLEEPERAWAKENED，andtheGO-BETWEENendreasonablywell；
DEATHINTHEPOTisanungodlymassacre。O，well，THEOWL
onlyendswellinsofarassomeloverscometogether，andnobodyiskilledatthemoment，butyouknowtheyarealldoomed，theyareChouanfellows。
FRIDAY，9TH。
Well，themailisin；noBlue-book，depressingletterfromC。；along，amusingramblefrommymother；vastmassesofRomeike；theyAREgoingtowarnow；andwhatwillthatleadto？andwhathasdriven，themtoitbutthepersistentmisconductofthesetwoofficials？IknowIoughttorewritetheendofthisbluidyEBBTIDE:well，Ican’t。CESTPLUS
FORTQUEMOI；ithastogothewayitis，andbe
