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    1. Camp Starts In: 228 Days You are always a good chap, Cumberland, he remarked. Do take this; its the heaviest of the lot: Beethovens Fifth Symphony. So very heavy. He sighed. And so dry that merely to carry it makes me thirsty. How many times have you heard it?


      This website template has been designed by Free Website Templates for you, for free. You can replace all this text with your own text. I dont think I ever met a man more careful to express his exact meaning; he appeared to have a horror of exaggeration and he qualified nearly every statement he made. In discussing scientific subjects such scrupulous carefulness is, of course, not only wise but necessary, and when, later on, I wrote a newspaper article on the effect that the strain and horror of war have on the human brain, Sir Victor showed himself very anxious that, in quoting his views, I should do so in language that could not possibly be interpreted in two different senses.

      • Vivamus at justo ut urna porta pulvinar Quite, said I uncomprehendingly. You mean?

      • Pellentesque nunasidp adipiscing sollicitudin dolor id sagittis. He was good enough to wait till the train started, and the last I saw of him as I leant through the window was a long, lean figure standing under a lamp. The figure wore no overcoat, but I noticed, even when a hundred yards separated us, a pair of thick, home-knitted woollen gloves....

      • Donec sit amet felis a nibh ornare malesuada. PREFATORY NOTE

      • Etiam et tellus mi, et semper lectus. Purvis came next day and the day after that, and I began to wonder in precisely what relation he stood to Fried. When together, they seemed to be just business friends, and it occurred to me that the long typewritten Life of Fried that Purvis had written was merely a gigantic piece of bluff. Finally, I decided to cut both men adrift altogether, and the next time Purvis called I was out.

      • Quisque in purus nec purus feugiat consectetur. Something. I dont quite know what. Something indefinable. His playing is too greasy. Did you ever hear Brahms played like that before?

      • Fusce et ipsum dolor lorem ante, at sollicitudin libero. So then I examined him closely and saw a tall, fair youth, with plenty of straw-coloured hair, a prominent, rather crooked nose, and a manner of painful self-consciousness. I believe that, from that moment, we distrusted each other most heartily. We parted a few minutes later and I think Houghton must have shared my suspicion and regret that we should often have to meet after that date. Kahane was and is (though he has been in France these three years and I in Macedonia) my most intimate friend, and had lately taken up Houghton, and whenever Kahane did a thing he did it pretty thoroughly. And friends of a friend are bound to tumble across each other continually.

      • Etiam et tellus mi, et semper lectus. Mrs Arnold (archly). What is the saying?great minds always jump alike?

      • Vivamus at justo ut urna porta pulvinar. Where he is now, I do not know. The war has blotted most of us out, and few men know whether their best friends are at the other end of the world or fighting in the trenches in the very next sector on their right or left.

      • 11/10/2011

        This is just a place holder, so you can see what the site would look like. I used to see him often, but we rarely did more than acknowledge each others existence, and when I saw him the other week in khaki, sitting in the Caf Royal, it was clear to me that, though he said he remembered me, he had only a vague recollection of my personality and had completely forgotten my name.

      • 11/19/2011

        Praesent quis nisl in velit imper diet suscipit a id quam. After all, how simple, how friendly, how altogether right and jovial!

      • 11/19/2011

        Nullam vulputate elementum consequat. Fusce leo felis, bibendum. A desultory correspondence and a few casual visits followed during the next three or four years, and when I was in my very early twenties I persuaded Messrs Greening & Company to invite me to write a book on Hall Caine for a popular series (English Writers of To-day, it was called) they were at that time issuing. Mr Caine, upon being approached by me, put no hindrance in my way, but, on the contrary, consented to give me some assistance in the way of providing me with information and a few letters received by him from eminent men. I spent several week-ends at Greeba Castle and found in Mrs Caine, always charming and ideally gifted with tact, a delightful hostess. My book was quickly written. It was a feeble, bombastic and ridiculous performance. A friend of mine (I thought he was an enemy) called it a prolonged diarrhœa of the emotions. In this book Hall Caine took a very kindly interest, and he provided me with autograph letters written by Ruskin, Blackmore, T. E. Brown and 120Gladstone to insert in my book. But I was, of course, the sole author of the work, and Mr Caine had nothing to do with it save to put me right on matters of fact and to tone down some of my exuberant and sentimental praise. The silly volume, because of its subject, attracted a good deal of attention, both in this country and in America, though it was not published in the States. The Philadelphia Daily Eagle, for example, on the day the book was published, printed a eulogistic cablegram review of it from London. But, for the most part, my monograph was mercilessly slated. Hall Caine, in addition, was abused for consenting to be the subject of it, and I was abused for having chosen him for my subject. One paper headed its review Raising Caine.

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