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Updated: May 2, 2025
Operoff, with whom I still continued on bowing, but otherwise most frigid, terms, suddenly offered not only to lend me his notebooks, but to let me do my preparation with himself and some other students.
A playwright of my acquaintance, and a very remarkable playwright too, used to scribble the first drafts of his play in little notebooks, which he produced from his pocket whenever he had a moment to spare often on the top of an omnibus. Only when the first draft was complete did he proceed to set the scenes, as it were, and map out the stage-management.
He himself cared nothing for them; it was enough for him to know what might be done, without doing it. He was so sure of his insight that he did not care to put it to the test of action; that was for slower men, whether artists or men of science. His notebooks were enough for him. In spite of the notebooks and the sketches, we know less about the man Leonardo than about the man Shakespeare.
More leisurely and with difficulty I followed, for once on the other side I should be content. I knew the road could not be far off, and through the tangled way we had come I was resolved I would not pass again. Well, we ran him down. We entered his name and his manners in our notebooks, and we were happy, or at least relieved.
Grote poured forth the precious contents of his portentous notebooks with as little care for rhythm and as little sense of proportion as a German professor. Freeman and Gardiner have evidently trained themselves in the same school of elaborate learning, till they would appear to count the graceful English of Froude, Lecky, and Green as hardly becoming the dignity of history.
This being the home of a literary race, papers and notebooks are on most Members' desks. As the electric bells ring sharply an unending procession of men file in to take their seats, for there has been a recess and the House has been only half-filled.
Had they been lose and the wind taken them, we should have seen at least some of them flying about. And the notebooks!" "And the pen?" murmured Tom, seeing the catastrophe now as she did. "Why, Ruthie! Could somebody have taken them all?" "Somebody must!" "But who?" demanded the young fellow. "You have no enemies." "Not here, I hope," she sighed. "I left them all behind."
"Perhaps if we think about these things," said Uncle Robert, "we may be able to answer some of the 'whys' for ourselves." "We can tell by the thermometer just how warm it is every day," said Susie, "but it won't tell us why." "The shadow stick may help us there," said Uncle Robert. "I am afraid I shall forget," said Donald. "I have some little notebooks in my trunk," said Uncle Robert.
Some have called him the father of English antiquaries, in virtue of one of his notebooks which has been preserved, and which contains jottings about his travels in England; it is a sort of rude elementary Leland's Itinerary. It is by no means the only book of his compiling, nor the only one owned by him that we have.
The notebooks give a detailed but rather dry account of the daily happenings. It was, presumably, Morse's intention to elaborate these, at some future day, into a more entertaining record of his wanderings; but this was never done. I shall, therefore, pass on rapidly, touching but lightly on the incidents of the journey, which were, in the main, without special interest.
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