Archive for the ‘H.G. Wells’ Category

This charming charming book so spoke to me of Lawrence. Of his dear country, of his beloved rides and hills and snug old pubs. Even the gentle humor was Lawrence’s. Brings tears to my eyes. Lawrence loved this book, and had a kindly affection for Mr. Hoopdriver, the hero—a lowly draper’s assistant, at a store in Putney—well, let Wells describe him:

“Now if you had noticed anything about him, it would have been chiefly to notice how little he was noticeable. He wore the black morning coat, the black tie, and the speckled grey nether parts (descending into shadow and mystery below the counter) of his craft. He was of a pallid complexion, hair of a kind of dirty fairness, greyish eyes, and a skimpy, immature moustache under his peaked indeterminate nose. His features were all small, but none ill-shaped. A rosette of pins decorated the lappel of his coat. His remarks, you would observe, were entirely what people used to call cliche, formulae not organic to the occasion, but stereotyped ages ago and learnt years since by heart. ‘This, madam,’ he would say, ‘is selling very well.’ ‘We are doing a very good article at four three a yard.’ ‘We could show you something better, of course.’ ”

Mild and tenderhearted fun is made of the young man, who manages to have an adventure despite himself. Just a lovely book, gently describing a lost world. Gutenberg has it here.


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