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Updated: June 24, 2025
But hauing the wind faire and good, they proceeded on their course towards the firme of America, which by reason of continuall fogs, at that time of the yeere especially, they could neuer see, till Cox Master of the Golden Hinde did discerne land, and presently lost sight thereof againe, at what time they were all vpon a breach in a great and outragious storme, hauing vnder 3. fathome water.
Hinde would not live in a house where Bad Women lived!... Perhaps Englishwomen were not so particular about things as Irishwomen!... Anyhow the haddock was good and the coffee tasted nice enough, although he would much rather have had tea. He finished his meal, and then dressed himself and went downstairs to the sitting-room which he was to share with Hinde.
The 2nd of September the General came on board the 'Golden Hinde' 'to make merry with us. He greatly deplored the loss of his books and papers, but he was full of confidence from what he had seen, and talked with eagerness and warmth of the new expedition for the following spring. Apocryphal gold-mines still occupying the minds of Mr.
Human nature's about the same everywhere, once you get to understand it, Mac, and if you like you can put that joke in your play. It'll help it out a bit in the middle!..." "Well?" said Hinde to John when Cream had left them. "I'd rather sell happorths of tea and sugar than write the kind of play he wants," John replied. Hinde paused for a few moments.
He turned instinctively to Hinde for advice, and Hinde was generous with it. He was generous, too, with more profitable things. He put work in John's way as often as he could, and in spite of the fiasco over the Abbey ceremony, had offered employment on the Herald to him, but John had refused it, feeling that his novel would never reach its end if he were tied to a newspaper.
The accounts of all the operations, including that of Captain Hinde , are written with a certain reserve; and the impression that the writers were working on behalf of civilisation and humanity is somewhat blurred by the startling admissions made by Captain Hinde in a paper read by him before the Royal Geographical Society in London, on March 11, 1895.
I'm a writer ... an artist ... not a reporter. Besides, I shouldn't have time to work at the book I'm doing now. Look at Hinde. He never has time to do anything but journalism. The worst of work like that is that after a time you can't do anything else. You think in paragraphs!..." "Supposing the play isn't a success ... I mean a financial success?" she asked.
Do you think they will be?" "I hope so!" "Oh, we can all hope, but there's not much chance of you realising your hope. Your book isn't a very good one!..." Eleanor glanced up at this. She had not felt very certain about John's book herself, but now that Hinde was belittling it, she was angry with him. "I think it's good," she said decisively.
Just give the programme to him, will you?" John handed the order of proceedings to Chilvers, and Hinde added a few instructions. "Write up the King," he said. "Every inch a sovereign and that sort of stuff. Royal dignity!... Was Kitchener there?" he said turning again to John. "Yes. A disappointing-looking man!..." "Write him up, too.
"What about Mr. Hinde?" John asked. "I've tried him time after time, but it's no good asking. He's a journalist, and a journalist can only work when he's excited. Put him down to something that needs thought and care, and he's lost. And he always says he's writing a tragedy about St. Patrick and can't think of anything else!"
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