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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Then you think a tragedy is not art?" asked the painter. "I think that these harrowing subjects are brought in altogether too much," said the lady. "There are enough of them in real life, without filling all the novels with them. It's terrible the number of beggars you meet on the street, this winter. Do you want to meet them in Mr. Twelvemough's novels, too?"
Twelvemough's, that he's too modest to present for himself." She turned a gay glance upon me, and Mrs. Camp thanked me, and a number of civilities followed from all sides. In the process of their exchange, Mrs. Makely's spirits perceptibly rose, and she came away in high good-humor with the whole Camp family.
I declare, those staring white walls, with the cracks in the plastering zigzagging every which way, distract me so that I can't put my mind on the sermon. Don't you think that paper, say of a Gothic design, would be a great improvement? I'm sure it would; and it's Mr. Twelvemough's idea, too." I learned this fact now for the first time; but, with Mrs.
It was this complimentary close of a remark, which scarcely began with praise, that made itself heard across the table, and was echoed with a heartfelt sigh from the lips of another lady. "Yes," she said, "that is what I find such a comfort in Mr. Twelvemough's books." "We were speaking of Mr.
Twelvemough's describing an eviction from an East Side tenement-house on a cold winter night, with the mother and her children huddled about the fire the father had kindled with pieces of the household furniture?" "I should object very much, for one," said the lady who had objected to the account of the surgical operation. "It would be too creepy. Art should give pleasure."
Twelvemough's books," the first lady triumphed, and several began to extol them for being fiction pure and simple, and not dealing with anything but loves of young people. Mr.
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