am afraid even that is leaving me now. Perhaps it is as well I was not with you, or I might just have sat eating my heart out because I couldn’t enjoy what I would have enjoyed in those delightful days when we first ‘discovered’ one another. But even if music fails I still have books!
And talking about books I am surprised that you don’t say more of the ‘Golden Key’:202 to me it was absolute heaven from the moment when Tangle ran into the wood to the glorious end in those mysterious caves. What a lovely idea ‘The country from which the shadows fall’! It is funny that we should both have the same idea about the Temple Classics. I was almost sure they were out of print and only wrote on the off chance for the Pilgrims’ Progress (did I mention it? I have read it again and am awfully bucked) and then for the ‘Grael’. I wonder would Mullan’s tell you a thing was out of print just because they didn’t think it worth while to get you the few we’d want At any rate, for paper etc they are far the prettiest cheap books I know, and if you still think of getting ‘The Com-pleat Angler’203 I should advise you to try this edition. The ‘set’ of the print and the notes in the nice broad margin are what I particularly like–Also the frontispieces–in some. My ‘Grael’ has a lovely one (in the extreme mediaeval style of course) in each volume by Burne-Jones & a title page design that reminds me of the Goodfridaymusic. I envy you, having your Letters of D.O. to W.T. in the Wayfarers–a very nice series except for the end leaf if I remember right–mine is only the 1/-Everyman and rather shop-soiled at that!
Was Mr. Thompson as nice as ever last night? He is a man I should love to meet again–but here too you have all the luck. Are you still reading ‘The Antiquary’ and does it still please you as much as ever? Here I am at the end of my letter and I had meant to give you a long jaw about some beautiful frost & mist effects I saw on Saturday evening (like Oldbuck’s article on Castrametation) but you will have to pine without it. I must say I heartily agree with your remarks about autumn. There are some lovely colours here, & though I fancy there are finer ‘cold’ looking afternoons at home, the woods here are perhaps even richer.
Time to dry up now. My head is splitting, & my feet are like ice so I suppose if you were here you’d explain to me how & why I was in for a cold. Well I’d be glad to have you even on those terms. Good-night & do be indulgent to my many failings. There’s a frost–
J.
TO HIS FATHER (LP V: 145-6):
[Gastons]
19th Nov. 1916.
My dear Papy,
It is Sunday–though not very early in the morning–and so I am afraid this letter will be late: but yours did not arrive until yesterday and this is really the first time I have had. I have heard of the failing of my spelling in many places, at many seasons, and from many sources (even the ‘for a boy of your age it is scandalous’ or sometimes ‘ludicrous’ has a familiar ring) and I am only too well aware of the truth. However, we must hope for the best. As to the other little episode, we must record ‘marker, one up!’ But you have forgotten to say what the word was: I should like to know.
In spite of the tutor’s obliging promise to find, or to use the safer form ‘discover’ lodgings, a letter arrived from him two or three days ago with a form for entrance in which, among other things, he wants ‘your adress during examination’–but no word of advice. I accordingly wrote at once to my Malvern friend, who replied saying that he could not tell of any place, but that candidates as a rule write and ask the college. I did this and got an answer saying he would let me know of some place ‘presently’ and in the meantime I am to fill up the rest of the form and send it. This I am doing today, putting down the colleges in the order we arranged. He also asks for my birth certificate, which is rather a nuisance. Perhaps you had better see about that exemption business.
I was very sorry when I read the letter from my friend Cooper. His people have gone bankrupt and he has come through a very rough time, although he does not say anything about leaving the Coll. It must be very hard lines on him and he was a thoroughly good fellow. I had asked to be remembered to Smugy and the old man has wished me every success and advised me to read my ‘Little Thompson’ via Cooper.
It is snowing fast as I write, and has been since yesterday evening. Kirk is actually in bed this morning ‘with a cold’. This is so very rare with him that I confess it makes me a little uneasy. Thanks very much but I think your suit case or Warnie’s will do very well for the present trip, and we can talk about the other later on.
your loving
son Jack.
TO ARTHUR GREEVES (W):
[Gastons
22 November 1916]
My dear Arthur,
I quite agree with you and hope we shall have no more controversies at any rate for the present: for, as you say, it is too much to hope that we should live in peace and good will for more than a few weeks continuously. In passing I must explain that when I said your ‘language was not pleasant’ I only meant the general tone of what you said–‘diction’ or ‘sentiments’ as Jane Austin would have delighted to put it. I wasn’t using ‘language’ in the slang sense of the word meaning swearing–for of course I don’t mind ‘language’ of that sort in itself. However, this is only a lesson in English & has nothing to do with the argument, which we will consign to the swarthy mere of Acheron!
Which reminds me I am no longer in a position to take your advice about ‘Letters from Hell’ as we had a jumble sale for the red cross or something in ‘our village’ last week and I contributed this. A mean enough offering indeed but they tell me it sold for 1/6! I am at present enjoying the malicious pleasure of expecting that the buyer will be as dissapointed as I was.
What a pity about the ‘Magic Flute’: I particularly wanted to hear your impressions of it. I am surprised to learn that it is ‘comic’ (a horrid word to describe a horrid thing) tho’ of course it may only be nice humour of the fantastic kind. Your description of Aida is most tantalizing, and I would love to have been there. Even if I had found that I could no longer enjoy the music–tho’ I think I am still up to Verdi–I could always have amused myself by talking to you or coughing loudly in the middle of the best passages! Seriously, did they play that lovely prelude well and did the Belfast boors give you a chance to hear it in peace? I daresay I am wrong about the ‘Wayfarer’s Library’: but whatever the end-leaves be like I remember that the whole effect is good. Have you looked at ‘Dorothy Osborne’ yet and do you think you will like her? I am desperately in love with her and have accordingly made arrangements to commit suicide from 10 till 4 tomorrow precisely. I wonder does the ‘Wayfarer’ series publish my latest discovery–the most glorious novel (almost) that I have ever read. I daresay you have read it already or at any rate you must have hearded it praised too often to need my advice. It is Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘House with the Seven Gables’.204 I love the idea of a house with a curse! And although there is nothing supernatural in the story itself there is a brooding sense of mystery and fate over the whole thing: Have you read it? See if it is in the ‘Wayfarers’ as I want to get an edition of my own as soon as possible.
I am afraid I have really no memories! I had clean forgotten your ever speaking to me about the ‘Golden Key’: tho’ I well remember setting off in the cab that grey, early morning and waiting for L. & G.205 at the station! How funny Gordon was with his stiff back! That sounds a strange thing to say but you know what I mean. But after all has not Hewlett (or is it some one else) told us that the fairies have the shortest memories of all! So short that they cannot even remember their lovers from one new moon till the next.
I must say I admire your pluck in taking back ‘The Antiquary’ after so many years! But as you say the books we buy or return doesnt make much matter to Macmullans. I was sure you’d like the Antiquary very much.