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Updated: August 20, 2024
"He has written his way into greater things," he murmured. "It makes one feel like a hackneyed 'penny-a-liner' to read work like that." "He's about done up," Rawlinson said. "Do you think I ought to stop him?" "Not likely. If there's such a thing in the world as inspiration he's got it now. Don't miss a line.
Where once an isolated bard supplied a nation with its literatures, or where later a few thousand priests and men of letters wrote and transcribed for the few to read, today literature gives labour to a multitude almost as countless as a swarm of locusts. From the penny-a-liner to the artist and thinker, the demand for their labour continually increases.
"And who is going to throw herself away upon a penny-a-liner, by Jove!" interjected the Captain. "Can I hope to be like that girl, with her happy ignorance of life, her boundless love and trust! O, no, no, papa; those things are not for me." She laid her head upon her father's breast, and sobbed like a child. This was her second farewell to the man she had loved, the dreams she had dreamed.
Now a penny-a-liner is indebted to a single phrase which furnishes his column; a clergyman near Saturday night seizes with rapture the clue of a fine simile which spins into a 'beautiful sermon'; for the material of his verses a rhymester is 'indebted' to an anecdote or incident.
The other day I went to the printing-office and pretended that I had seen the famous Spiegelberg, dictated to a penny-a-liner who was sitting there the exact image of a quack doctor in the town; the matter gets wind, the fellow is arrested, put to the rack, and in his anguish and stupidity he confesses the devil take me if he does not confesses that he is Spiegelberg. Fire and fury!
Is it their idea that the public and the critics are now so true and so eager that the poets have nothing more to fear? That stupidity and blindness and indifference are quite entirely gone out of the world? That aspiration and fervor are now so much the rule that the least penny-a-liner can judge the new poet? And they think that the soul is dead then!
'Oh, I admit, it's scandalous. But you may as well know the worst. A penny-a-liner! But I shan't do so any more, now that I have stepped into the shoes of my uncle. You'll never catch me fatiguing myself with work, now that I've got enough to live on! 'Lazy! 'Oh, I'm everything that's reprehensible. 'And you never married? 'I don't think so. 'Aren't you sure?
"It's her pen-name, Amy Evans" he couldn't have said it otherwise had he been a blue-chinned penny-a-liner; yet marking it with a disconnectedness of intelligence that kept up all the poetry of his own situation and only crashed into that of other persons. The reference put the author of "The Heart of Gold" quite into his place, but left the speaker absolutely free of Arcady.
Upon seeing this I fell into a great rage, without exactly knowing why. "This thing," I exclaimed, "is a contemptible falsehood a poor hoax the lees of the invention of some pitiable penny-a-liner, of some wretched concocter of accidents in Cocaigne. For my own part, I intend to believe nothing henceforward that has anything of the 'singular' about it."
Oh, don't think I'm crazy with drink. No! I'm clever." The Judge and Mr. Roddy had stood up and the Judge could not seem to find a word to say, but Mr. Roddy clenched his freckled fists. "What yer want?" he said. "I came to tell you," said Chalmers, "that the joke is on you. I didn't expect the pleasure of seeing you, Roddy, my fine penny-a-liner. But you're in this, too. The joke is on you.
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