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A Literary Light
by
III
You will understand, then, that by the end of 1906 Annesley Bupp had a reputation; to be exact, he had two reputations. In Fleet Street he was known as a writer upon whom a sub-editor could depend; a furnisher of what got to be called “buppy”–matter which is paid at a slightly higher rate than ordinary copy, because the length and quality of it never vary. Outside Fleet Street he was regarded simply as a literary light; Annesley Bupp, the fellow whose name you saw in every paper; an accepted author.
It was not surprising, therefore, that at the beginning of 1907 public opinion forced Annesley into (sic) n wer fields of literature. It demanded from him, among other things, a weekly review of current fiction entitled Fireside Friends. He wrote this with extraordinary fluency; a few words of introduction, followed by a large fragment of the book before him, pasted beneath the line, “Take this, for instance.” An opinion of any kind he rarely ventured; an adverse opinion, like a good friend, never.
About this time he was commissioned to write three paragraphs each day for an evening paper. The first of them always began: “Mr Asquith’s admission in the House of Commons yesterday that he had never done so and so is not without parallel. In 1746 the elder Pitt …” The second always began: “Mention of the elder Pitt recalls the fact that …” The third always began: “It may not be generally known …”
Until he began to write these paragraphs Annesley Bupp had no definite political views.
IV
Annesley Bupp is now at the zenith of his fame. The “buppy” of old days he still writes occasionally, but he no longer signs it in full. A modest “A. B.” in the corner, supposed by the ignorant to stand for “Arthur Balfour,” is the only evidence of the author. (I say “the only evidence,” for he has had, like all great men, his countless imitators.) Trams also he deserted with the publication of his great work on the subject–Tramiana. But as a writer on Literature and Old London he has a European reputation, and his recent book, In the Track of Shakespeare: A Record of a Visit to Stratford-on-Avon, created no little stir.
He is in great request at public dinners, where his speech in reply to the toast of Literature is eagerly attended.
He contributes to every symposium in the popular magazines.
It is all the more to be regretted that his autobiography, The Last of the Bupps, is to be published posthumously.
LITTLE PLAYS FOR AMATEURS
“FAIR MISTRESS DOROTHY”
THE SCENE IS AN APARTMENT IN THE MANSION OF Sir Thomas Farthingale. THERE IS NO NEED TO DESCRIBE THE FURNITURE IN IT, AS REHEARSALS WILL GRADUALLY SHOW WHAT IS WANTED. A PICTURE OR TWO OF PREVIOUS Sir Thomas’s MIGHT BE SEEN ON THE WALLS, IF YOU HAVE AN ARTISTIC FRIEND WHO COULD ARRANGE THIS; BUT IT IS A MISTAKE TO HANG UP YOUR OWN ANCESTORS AS SOME OF YOUR GUESTS MAY RECOGNIZE THEM, AND THUS PIERCE BENEATH THE VRAISEMBLANCE OF THE SCENE.
THE PERIOD IS THAT OF CROMWELL–SIXTEEN SOMETHING.
THE COSTUMES ARE, IF POSSIBLE, OF THE SAME PERIOD.
Mistress Dorothy Farthingale IS SEATED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STAGE, READING A LETTER AND OCCASIONALLY SIGHING.
ENTER My Lord Carey.
CAREY. Mistress Dorothy alone! Truly Fortune smiles upon me.
DOROTHY (HIDING THE LETTER QUICKLY). An she smiles, my lord, I needs must frown.
CAREY (USED TO THIS SORT OF THING AND NO LONGER PUT OFF BY IT). Nay, give me but one smile, sweet mistress. (SHE SIGHS HEAVILY.) You sigh! Is’t for me?
DOROTHY (FEELING THAT THE SOONER HE AND THE AUDIENCE UNDERSTAND THE SITUATION THE BETTER). I sigh for another, my lord, who is absent.
CAREY (ANNOYED). Zounds, and zounds again!
A pest upon the fellow! (He strides up and down the room, keeping out of the way of his sword as much as possible.) Would that I might pink the pesky knave!
DOROTHY (turning upon him a look of hate). Would that you might have the chance, my lord, so it were in fair fighting. Methinks Roger’s sword-arm will not have lost its cunning in the wars.