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212520_The_Adve ... _Way_Through_The_World.pdf - OUDL Home

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xxiv PHILIP<br />

a bore were I to try my hand as you desire. Believe me, that it<br />

is from no affectation of modesty nor indisposition to oblige you<br />

that I thus refuse your invitation, but from an honest, inward<br />

conviction of imbecility.<br />

" Nevertheless, if by lucky chance I should think of something<br />

within my range that I might make useful to you, it will give me<br />

much pleasure—after this full confession—to send it." . . .<br />

<strong>The</strong> next refusal is from dear Dr. John Brown.<br />

"I am ashamed of my shabbiness to you, but the truth is,<br />

I must be forced to write. If you were to make your printer<br />

command me to have something ready by a certain date I could<br />

do it, but if it is left to my own sweet will it is left for ever. I<br />

was thinking of giving you an additional member of 'Our Dogs'—<br />

'Binkie,' a real dog, and the best successor I have ever known<br />

to 'Crab,' 'the sourest-natured dog that lives,' as his master<br />

says. ..."<br />

From Dr. John Brown—from the author of " Rab and his<br />

Friends "—to Sir Edwin Laudseer is but a short step.<br />

Sir Edwin's letters have both been quoted before in these<br />

pages, but they are so much to the point that I cannot omit<br />

them here.<br />

"MY DEAR THACKERAY,—Old rams look wicked sometimes,<br />

sheep usually innocent. What am I to do ? If you will let me<br />

know what class of sheep you really want, I will do my best to<br />

illustrate a page for the Mag.—Yours sincerely,<br />

"E. LANDSEER."<br />

"March 18, 3860.<br />

"DEAR THACKERAY,—My used-up old pencil worked with<br />

friendly gladness for an old friend, and was richly rewarded by the<br />

reception you gave the black sheep. I now feel under an avalanche<br />

which really embarrasses me. <strong>The</strong> magnificent gift now before me<br />

so startled me that a state of prostration has set in with its usual<br />

severity ! It is from your large heart the pretty ewer comes. I<br />

am willing to believe, and do hope that you never intended me to<br />

feel under an obligation ; some such feeling mingles with my thanks.<br />

Spite of which I shall always have great pleasure in the bottle,

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