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Updated: June 17, 2025
Joseph Liggins; and finally, the public learnt on authority that the "gentleman of high church tendencies" was a lady; and that this lady was the same who had given a remarkable proof of mastery over both the German language and her own, but had certainly not established a reputation for orthodoxy, by a translation of Strauss's "Life of Jesus."
Up to this time the world did not know who George Eliot was; but as a man by the name of Liggins laid claim to the authorship, and tried to borrow money for his needs because Blackwood would not pay him, the real name of the author had to be divulged. Five thousand copies of Adam Bede were sold the first two weeks, and sixteen thousand the first year. So excellent was the sale that Mr.
"Still, the card may come in handy." Mr. Liggins drove the boys to the hotel where they were to stay over night. They consulted the time-tables in the lobby, and learned that their train did not leave until the next afternoon. "Now for a good night's sleep," said Jack, as he and his chums were being taken up in the elevator to their rooms that night.
Make yourselves to home, and I'll be with you after a bit. Look around all you like." Mr. Post and his friend Lemuel Liggins retired into the small office. The boys alighted from the carriage, which drew up under a shed, and then the lads began to take in the various strange sights about them. "I didn't suppose there were so many cows and steers in all the world," said Jack.
No one knew, but it was surely some one in Nuneaton. So they picked out a Mr. Liggins, a solemn-faced preacher, who was always about to do something great, and they said "Liggins." Soon all London said "Liggins." As for Liggins, he looked wise and smiled knowingly. Then articles began to appear in the periodicals purporting to have been written by the author of "Adam Bede."
Here ends the career of Liggins, the liar. One reason the villagers had for believing one of their own number was the author was based on the conversations in the Scenes from Clerical Life. Not only were they true to life, but they were conversations that had actually taken place. How did George Eliot hear them? Had she loitered in the public room of the village tavern? Mr.
Yes, he was the author of this new fiction, because every one said he was. The voice of the people is the voice of God. He was invited to write for a theological magazine. Finally George Eliot was obliged to reveal her identity when the public was about to subscribe a sum of money for the pseudo-literary Liggins who was so fastidious as to refuse money for the product of his genius.
It will mean a big loss to me, too, for I counted on putting a deal through with a friend of mine, Lemuel Liggins. He's to meet me in the stock yards. I don't suppose you boys are in any great rush, are you?" "Well," remarked Jack, "it doesn't make any great difference when we arrive, but we're supposed to be in Denville at a certain time.
He may know where my father is, who is in hiding because of the scheming of some wicked men." "Well, now you have got me," Mr. Liggins said. "I haven't seen Tevis for some years, not since he retired from active work. He speculates in cattle now and then, and I had a letter from him a few months ago." "Where is that letter now?" asked Jack, his voice trembling with eagerness. "Land live you!
"No, I don't carry such things for luck," replied Jack. "It had a message on it." He described the queer bit of pasteboard Mr, Liggins had given him. "Oh I see; it was a sort of charm," interposed the detective with the light moustache. "Well, we'll make a round of the pawnshops tomorrow. Maybe we'll locate it." "I don't believe so," said Jack, half to himself.
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