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Men who affected to be revolutionists, but were in reality nothing more than rose-water romancers, would of course object to anything which looked like business; they liked to sit in their comfortable studies and pen daintily worded articles, thus earning for themselves a humanitarian reputation at a very cheap rate. That would not do; à bas all such penny-a-liner pretence!
Of course, they gave you another name, for short; ah, Robin! I thought so. Well, that ain't a bad name neither. There was Robin Hood, you know, what draw'd the long-bow a deal better than the worst penny-a-liner as ever mended a quill. An' there was a Robin Goodfellow, though I don't rightly remember who he was exactly." "One of Shakespeare's characters," interposed Robin.
"Just listen to that wretched penny-a-liner," he said, rapping savagely on the paper with the back of his hand. I intimated mildly that they paid more than a penny a line for newspaper work in New York, but he said that wasn't the point. In fact the purser was too angry to argue calmly. He was angry the whole way from Queenstown to Liverpool.
We cannot deny that the poetical view of any period is higher, and in the deepest sense truer, than all others; but we are thankful also for the penny-a-liner, whether ancient or modern, who reflects the whims and humors, the enthusiasms and weaknesses, of the public in unguarded moments.
You don't talk like an author whose stuff is worth ten cents a word more like a penny-a-liner, in fact, with whom words are of such small value that no one's the loser if he throws away a whole dictionary. Go out and mix a couple of your best Remsen coolers, and by the time you get back I'll have got to the gist of this royalty statement of yours, which is all I've come for.
But Lady Rowley declared that this would not quite suffice. Mr. Stanbury had made his offer in due form, and must be held to be entitled to an answer. Sir Marmaduke, therefore, wrote the following letter to the "penny-a-liner," mitigating the asperity of his language in compliance with his wife's counsels. Manchester Street, April 20th, 186 .
What's his name had great difficulty in getting onto some obscure paper, where he was transformed into the obscure penny-a-liner Machin.
"The green mummy." Random looked into the fire, "Yes. I have heard of the green mummy." "I should think you have," snapped Braddock, warming his plump hands. "Every penny-a-liner has been talking about it. When did you return?" "On the same day that that steamer with the mummy on board arrived," was Random's odd reply. The Professor stared suspiciously.
But what was said about his school hurt him more than what was said about his church. In regard to his church he was impregnable. Not even the Bishop could touch him, or even annoy him much. But this "penny-a-liner," as the Doctor indignantly called him, had attacked him in his tenderest point.
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