What had happened at the offices of the Daily Tribune was this. At the very moment when Henry was dreaming of its reviewer—namely, half-past eleven p.m.—its editor was gesticulating and shouting at the end of a speaking-tube:
'Haven't had proof of that review of a book called A Question of Cubits, or some such idiotic11 title! Send it down at once, instantly. Do you hear? What? Nonsense!'
The editor sprang away from the tube, and dashed into the middle of a vast mass of papers on his desk, turning them all over, first in heaps, then singly. He then sprang in succession to various side-tables and served their contents in the same manner.
'I tell you I sent it up myself before dinner,' he roared into the tube. 'It's Mr. Clackmannan's "copy"—you know that peculiar12 paper he writes on. Just look about. Oh, conf——!'
Then the editor rang a bell.
'Send Mr. Heeky to me, quick!' he commanded the messenger-boy.
'I'm just finishing that leaderette,' began Mr. Heeley, when he obeyed the summons. Mr. Heeley was a young man who had published a book of verse.
'Never mind the leaderette,' said the editor. 'Run across to the other shop yourself, and see if they've got a copy of A Question of Cubits—yes, that's it, A Question of Cubits—and do me fifteen inches on it at once. I've lost Clackmannan's "copy."' (The 'other shop' was a wing occupied by a separate journal belonging to the proprietors13 of the Tribune.)
'What, that thing!' exclaimed Mr. Heeley. 'Won't it do to-morrow? You know I hate messing my hands with that sort of piffle.'
'No, it won't do to-morrow. I met Onions Winter at dinner on Saturday night, and I told him I'd review it on the day of publication. And when I promise a thing I promise it. Cut, my son! And I say'—the editor recalled Mr. Heeley, who was gloomily departing—'We're under no obligations to anyone. Write what you think, but, all the same, no antics, no spleen. You've[Pg 219] got to learn yet that that isn't our speciality. You're not on the Whitehall now.'
Five minutes later Mr. Heeley entered what he called his private boudoir, bearing a satinesque volume.
'Here, boys,' he cried to two other young men who were already there, smoking clay pipes—'here's a lark15! The chief wants fifteen inches on this charming and pathetic art-work as quick as you can. And no antics, he says. Here, Jack16, here's fifty pages for you'—Mr. Heeley ripped the beautiful inoffensive volume ruthlessly in pieces—and here's fifty for you, Clementina. Tell me your parts of the plot I'll deal with the first fifty my noble self.'
Presently, after laughter, snipping17 out of pages with scissors, and some unseemly language, Mr. Heeley began to write.
'Oh, he's shot up to six foot eight!' exclaimed Jack, interrupting the scribe.
'Snow!' observed the bearded man styled Clementina. 'He dies in the snow. Listen.' He read a passage from Henry's final scene, ending with 'His spirit had passed.' 'Chuck me the scissors, Jack.'
Mr. Heeley paused, looked up, and then drew his pen through what he had written.
'I say, boys,'he almost whispered, 'I'll praise it, eh? I'll take it seriously. It'll be simply delicious.'
'What about the chief?'
'Oh, the chief won't notice it! It'll be just for us three, and a few at the club.'
Then there was hard scribbling18, and pasting of extracts into blank spaces, and more laughter.
'"If an advance were possible,"' Clementina read, over Mr. Heeley's shoulder. 'You'll give the show away, you fool!'
'No, I shan't, Clemmy, my boy,' said Mr. Heeley judicially19. 'They'll stand simply anything. I bet you what you like Onions Winter quotes that all over the place.'
And he handed the last sheet of the review to a messenger, and ran off to the editorial room to report that instructions had been executed. Jack and Clementina relighted their pipes with select bits of A Question of Cubits, and threw the remaining débris of the volume into the waste-paper basket. The hour was twenty minutes past midnight....
The great majority of the reviews were exceedingly favourable20, and even where praise was diluted21 with blame, the blame was administered with respect, as a dentist might respectfully pain a prince in pulling his tooth out. The public had voted for Henry, and the press, organ of public opinion, displayed a wise discretion22. The daring freshness of Henry's plot, his inventive power, his skill in 'creating atmosphere,' his gift for pathos23, his unfailing wholesomeness24, and his knack25 in the management of narrative26, were noted27 and eulogized in dozens of articles. Nearly every reviewer prophesied28 brilliant success for him; several admitted frankly29 that his equipment revealed genius of the first rank. A mere30 handful of papers scorned him. Prominent among this handful was the Whitehall Gazette. The distinguished31 mouthpiece of the superior classes dealt with A Question of Cubits at the foot of a column, in a brief paragraph headed 'Our Worst Fears realized.' The paragraph, which was nothing but a summary of the plot, concluded in these terms: 'So he expired, every inch of him, in the snow, a victim to the British Public's rapacious32 appetite for the sentimental33.'
The rudeness of the Whitehall Gazette, however, did nothing whatever to impair34 the wondrous35 vogue36 which Henry now began to enjoy. His first boom had been great, but it was a trifle compared to his second. The title of the new book became a catchword. When a little man was seen walking with a tall woman, people exclaimed: 'It's a question of cubits.' When the recruiting regulations of the British army were relaxed, people also exclaimed: 'It's a question of cubits.' During a famous royal procession, sightseers trying to see the sight over the heads of a crowd five deep shouted to each other all along the route: 'It's a question of cubits.' Exceptionally tall men were nicknamed 'Gerald' by their friends. Henry's Gerald, by the way, had died as doorkeeper at a restaurant called the Trianon. The Trianon was at once recognised as the Louvre, and the tall commissionaire at the Louvre thereby37 trebled his former renown38. 'Not dead in the snow yet?' the wits of the West End would greet him on descending39 from their hansoms, and he would reply, infinitely40 gratified: 'No, sir. No snow, sir.' A music-hall star of no mean eminence41 sang a song with the refrain:
'You may think what you like,
You may say what you like,
It was simply a question of cubits.'
The lyric42 related the history of a new suit of clothes that was worn by everyone except the person who had ordered it.
Those benefactors43 of humanity, the leading advertisers, used 'A Question of Cubits' for their own exalted44 ends. A firm of manufacturers of high-heeled shoes played with it for a month in various forms. The proprietors of an unrivalled cheap cigarette disbursed45 thousands of pounds in order to familiarize the public with certain facts. As thus: 'A Question of Cubits. Every hour of every day we sell as many cigarettes as, if placed on end one on the top of the other, would make a column as lofty as the Eiffel Tower. Owing to the fact that cigarettes are not once mentioned in A Question of Cubits, we regret to say that the author has not authorized46 us to assert that he was thinking of our cigarettes when he wrote Chapter VII. of that popular novel.'
Editors and publishers cried in vain for Henry. They could get from him neither interviews, short stories, nor novels. They could only get polite references to Mark Snyder. And Mark Snyder had made his unalterable plans for the exploitation of this most wonderful racehorse that he had ever trained for the Fame Stakes. The supply of chatty paragraphs concerning the hero and the book of the day would have utterly47 failed had not Mr. Onions Winter courageously48 come to the rescue and allowed himself to be interviewed. And even then respectable journals were reduced to this sort of paragraph: 'Apropos49 of Mr. Knight's phenomenal book, it may not be generally known what the exact measure of a cubit is. There have been three different cubits—the Scriptural, the Roman, and the English. Of these, the first-named,' etc.
So the thing ran on.
And at the back of it all, supporting it all, was the steady and prodigious50 sale of the book, the genuine enthusiasm for it of the average sensible, healthy-minded woman and man.
Finally, the information leaked out that Macalistairs had made august and successful overtures51 for the reception of Henry into their fold. Sir Hugh Macalistair, the head of the firm, was (at that time) the only publisher who had ever been knighted. And the history of Macalistairs was the history of all that was greatest and purest in English literature during the nineteenth century. Without Macalistairs, English literature since Scott would have been nowhere. Henry was to write a long novel in due course, and Macalistairs were to have the world's rights of the book, and were to use it as a serial52 in their venerable and lusty Magazine, and to pay Henry, on delivery of the manuscript, eight thousand pounds, of which six thousand was to count as in advance of royalties53 on the book.
Mr. Onions Winter was very angry at what he termed an ungrateful desertion. The unfortunate man died a year or two later of appendicitis54, and his last words were that he, and he alone, had 'discovered' Henry.
点击收听单词发音
1 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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2 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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3 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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4 conscientious | |
adj.审慎正直的,认真的,本着良心的 | |
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5 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
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6 appreciation | |
n.评价;欣赏;感谢;领会,理解;价格上涨 | |
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7 scamper | |
v.奔跑,快跑 | |
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8 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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9 originality | |
n.创造力,独创性;新颖 | |
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10 lauded | |
v.称赞,赞美( laud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 idiotic | |
adj.白痴的 | |
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12 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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13 proprietors | |
n.所有人,业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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14 concurred | |
同意(concur的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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15 lark | |
n.云雀,百灵鸟;n.嬉戏,玩笑;vi.嬉戏 | |
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16 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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17 snipping | |
n.碎片v.剪( snip的现在分词 ) | |
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18 scribbling | |
n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 );乱画;草草地写;匆匆记下 | |
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19 judicially | |
依法判决地,公平地 | |
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20 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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21 diluted | |
无力的,冲淡的 | |
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22 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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23 pathos | |
n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
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24 wholesomeness | |
卫生性 | |
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25 knack | |
n.诀窍,做事情的灵巧的,便利的方法 | |
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26 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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27 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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28 prophesied | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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30 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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31 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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32 rapacious | |
adj.贪婪的,强夺的 | |
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33 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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34 impair | |
v.损害,损伤;削弱,减少 | |
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35 wondrous | |
adj.令人惊奇的,奇妙的;adv.惊人地;异乎寻常地;令人惊叹地 | |
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36 Vogue | |
n.时髦,时尚;adj.流行的 | |
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37 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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38 renown | |
n.声誉,名望 | |
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39 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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40 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
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41 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
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42 lyric | |
n.抒情诗,歌词;adj.抒情的 | |
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43 benefactors | |
n.捐助者,施主( benefactor的名词复数 );恩人 | |
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44 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
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45 disbursed | |
v.支出,付出( disburse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46 authorized | |
a.委任的,许可的 | |
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47 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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48 courageously | |
ad.勇敢地,无畏地 | |
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49 apropos | |
adv.恰好地;adj.恰当的;关于 | |
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50 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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51 overtures | |
n.主动的表示,提议;(向某人做出的)友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 );(歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的)序曲,前奏曲 | |
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52 serial | |
n.连本影片,连本电视节目;adj.连续的 | |
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53 royalties | |
特许权使用费 | |
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54 appendicitis | |
n.阑尾炎,盲肠炎 | |
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