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Beerbohm, Max, Sir, 1872-1956

"A Christmas Garland"


He staggered and, spurting blood, fell. Up go the buffo's hands,
and "Now may the Saints whip me," cries he, "for a tapster of
girl's blood!" and fled into the night, howling like a dog. Mistress
Vandeleur had fled already. Down on her knees goes Angelica, to stanch
Geoffrey's flux.
Thus far, straight history. Apocrypha, all the rest: you shall pick
your own sequel. As for instance, some say Geoffrey bled to the death,
whereby stepped Master Joffers to the scaffold, and Angelica (the
Vandeleur too, like as not) to a nunnery. Others have it he lived,
thanks to nurse Angelica, who, thereon wed, suckled him twin Dizzards
in due season. Joffers, they say, had wife already, else would have
wed the Vandeleur, for sake of symmetry.


DICKENS
_By_
G**RGE M**RE

I had often wondered why when people talked to me of Tintoretto I
always found myself thinking of Turgeneff. It seemed to me strange
that I should think of Turgeneff instead of thinking of Tintoretto;
for at first sight nothing can be more far apart than the Slav mind
and the Flemish. But one morning, some years ago, while I was musing
by my fireplace in Victoria Street, Dolmetsch came to see me. He had
a soiled roll of music under his left arm. I said, "How are you?" He
said, "I am well.


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