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    Parnassus On Wheels
    Parnassus On Wheels
    Parnassus On Wheels
    Ebook126 pages2 hours

    Parnassus On Wheels

    By Christopher Morley

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    Parnassus on Wheels is Morley's first novel, about a fictional traveling book-selling business. The original owner of the business, Roger Mifflin, sells it to 39-year-old Helen McGill, who is tired of taking care of her older brother, Andrew. Andrew is a former businessman turned farmer, turned author. As an author, he begins using the farm as his Muse rather than a livelihood. When Mifflin shows up with his traveling bookstore, Helen buys it--partly to prevent Andrew from buying it--and partly to treat herself to a long-overdue adventure of her own. The first of two novels to be written from a woman's perspective, as well as the prequel to a later novel (The Haunted Bookshop), Parnassus on Wheels was inspired by David Grayson's novel, The Friendly Road, and starts with an open letter to Grayson, taking him to task for not concerning himself (except in passing) with his sister's opinion of and reaction to his adventure.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBooklassic
    Release dateJun 29, 2015
    ISBN9789635253593
    Author

    Christopher Morley

    Christopher Morley (5 May 1890 – 28 March 1957) was an American journalist, novelist, essayist and poet. He also produced stage productions for a few years and gave college lectures.

    Read more from Christopher Morley

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    Reviews for Parnassus On Wheels

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    • 3/5
      Originally published in 1917, Christopher Morley's Parnassus on Wheels recounts the story of spinster Helen McGill, who, having grown tired of looking after her celebrity-author brother, decides that it is time to embark upon an adventure of her own. Overweight, "severely practical by nature," and somewhat distrustful of readers, Helen seems as first glance to be an odd choice to become an itinerant bookseller. But when the charming and eccentric Roger Mifflin shows up at her farmhouse door with an offer to sell his "Traveling Parnassus" - a horse-drawn book-wagon - she unexpectedly takes to the New England roads.Helen's adventures with the Parnassus (named, I assume, in honor of the Greek mountain that was said to be the home of the Muses), and with Roger, make for an entertaining read. I would not describe this as a brilliant book, although its survival over the years gives it something of the status of a second-string classic. It does however, provide a highly enjoyable few hours of reading. As someone, moreover, who has spent half her life in one bookstore or another, it was refreshing to see the profession described in such glowing (and elevated!) terms...
    • 3/5
      Charming, quaint little story about book-people and the people who love them.
    • 3/5
      Slight but charming little escapist romance, more or less in the style of G.K. Chesterton, but roughened up with a bit of New England homespun quality and a few in-jokes about the US publishing business. Not the sort of book to read too seriously: if you stop to think about it, you realise that it's deeply patronising in the way it treats the woman narrator. But if you take it on its own terms, there are some very good lines and a lot of period charm about it.
    • 5/5
      Parnassus on Wheels by Christopher Morley ~ 1917. This edition: J.B. Lippincott, 1955. Introduction by John T. Winterich. Illustrations by Douglas Gorsline. Hardcover. 160 pages. My rating: 9/10. An unexpected story, boisterously told. The point off is for narrator Helen’s continued refrain of “I’m so fat and plain! I’m so dull and unintellectual!” Well, Helen, if you continue to sell yourself short like that, don’t be surprised if people treat you like a doormat. A minor issue, but one that I ground my teeth at a bit. Helen’s actions negated her sorry opinion of herself, by the way. ***** This is the prequel to the perennially popular 1919 bestseller, The Haunted Bookshop. Though the books share a certain joie de vivre, they are quite different in style and presentation. Parnassus on Wheels is much less consciously intellectual; the narrator has a distinctive voice which is exclusive to her story, while Bookshop is a different kettle of fish entirely. I liked them both, in different ways. Thirty-nine-year-old spinster Helen McGill lives a contented life on the small farm she owns with her brother Andrew. At least, it was contented, a happy contrast from her previous occupation as a governess in the city, which she joyfully left in order to join her brother in his quest for a more congenial way of life to combat his ill-health. The farm was just the ticket; Andrew has been usefully occupied with crops and pigs and mild rural pleasures, while Helen has kept the home fires burning and her chickens productively producing eggs. But something has happened to change all of that. An elderly great-uncle has died, leaving the two his library, and Andrew, stimulated by the sudden abundance of literature at his disposal, has decided to become a writer himself. He pens an ode to the rural life, Paradise Regained, and sends it off to a New York publisher. The book catches the fancy of the jaded city dwellers everywhere, and Andrew is suddenly a best-selling author. He has started neglecting the farm to hob nob with the urban literati, and between city visits tramps the countryside looking for new material. Happiness and Hayseed follows, and then a book of poems. Through all of this Helen keeps the home fires burning and the farm on an even keel, but she is starting to get rather jaded herself in her role as “rural Xantippe” and “domestic balance-wheel that kept the great writer close to the homely realities of life”, as she has seen herself described by one of Andrew’s doting biographers. Helen is ripe for rebellion, and when her chance to shake her brother up a bit comes she seizes it with both hands. Andrew is out one day, when up drives a horse-drawn van, with the following legend painted on its side: R. MIFFLIN’S TRAVELLING PARNASSUS GOOD BOOKS FOR SALE SHAKESPEARE, CHARLES LAMB, R.L.S. HAZLITT, AND ALL OTHERS The driver of the van, one Roger Mifflin, is looking for Andrew McGill. He presents Helen with his card: ROGER MIFFLIN’S TRAVELLING PARNASSUS Worthy friends, my wain doth hold Many a book, both new and old: Books, the truest friends of man, Fill this rolling caravan. Books to satisfy all uses, Golden lyrics of the Muses, Books on cookery and farming, Novels passionate and charming, Every kind for every need So that he who buys may read. What librarian can surpass us? Helen chuckles, and is immediately interested. She does, after all, appreciate a good book herself, though not to the excess her brother has shown. And Roger Mifflin has a business proposition of sorts. The van is a travelling bookshop, and he thinks it would be just the thing for Andrew to take over. Roger announces his intention of selling his business, lock, stock, horse Peg (short for Pegasus), and all. Helen, imagining an even more complete neglect of the farm should her brother take on this attractive offer, is aghast. She tries to send Mifflin on his way, with no success. The two joust back and forth, and Helen gets the gleam of an idea. She will purchase the travelling bookstore, and leave Andrew to watch the farm. She has some money saved, and turn-about is fair play, after all… The deed is duly done, and, leaving the Swedish hired lady in charge, Helen hits the road with Roger along to show her the ropes. Needless to say, Andrew is flabbergasted at his sister’s sudden whim, and sets out in hot pursuit. Hi-jinks ensue for numerous chapters, until a satisfyingly romantic conclusion is reached. A grand little romp of a book, something of a period piece, but happy and playful, and well worth the short few hours it takes to gobble it up. Lippincott’s 1955 edition, which I was lucky enough to stumble upon in Langley last week, has the extra bonus of a very informative explanatory foreword by John Winterich, which added greatly to my understanding and enjoyment of both Parnassus on Wheels and The Haunted Bookshop - I believe it was written to accompany the omnibus volume of both stories which I’ve seen listed on ABE - though this is a stand-alone volume. Clever line illustrations by Douglas Gorsline added an extra fillip to the tale. ***** After I’d read Parnassus, I stumbled upon a little bit of interesting news regarding Christopher Morley’s inspiration for the story. Turns out that this novel is a send-up of another contemporary novelist of best-selling “rural odes”, one Ray Stannard Baker, writing under the pseudonym David Grayson. Baker-Grayson’s 1907 book, Adventures in Contentment, was immensely popular and gained a large following of people yearning after “the simple life”; it was followed by eight other volumes. Though Baker himself lived a completely urban lifestyle, as a hard-hitting newspaper reporter and journalist, his alter-ego “Grayson” fictionally left the city for the peaceful rural life of a small farm, where he was joined by his sister “Harriet”; the two enjoyed a rural idyll centered on the simple pleasures of country life and wholesome labour.
    • 4/5
      Published in 1917 and set in 1907, this book is simply delightful. Helen McGill and her brother Andrew had a dream of owning a farm together, and while Andrew seems perfectly satisfied with how things have turned out, Helen is not so sure. Andrew has become an author and spends most of his time rambling and pursuing his own interests, while Helen is left to handle all the details of actually running the farm. When a traveling sales man shows up with a business proposition for Andrew, the thought of Andrew having one more adventure while she stays behind to mind the home front is too much for Helen. Why shouldn't she have an adventure of her own? By purchasing Roger Mifflin's traveling bookshop - Parnassus on Wheels - she can kill two birds with one stone. Determined to keep Andrew from buying Parnassus, and to indulge her own thirst for adventure, Helen buys the outfit from Mifflin with the understanding that they must set off immediately - before Andrew returns home. Mifflin agrees and decides to ride along for a day in order to teach Helen the ropes. The resulting story is not sophisticated or edgy, but it is fun and enjoyable. A lovely lighter read."I think reading a good book makes one modest. When you see the marvelous insight into human nature which a truly great book shows, it is bound to make you feel small - like looking at the Dipper on a clear night, or seeing the winter sunrise when you go out to collect the morning eggs. And anything that makes you feel small is mighty good for you."
    • 4/5
      Vincent Starrett in 1955 compiled a list he called "Best Loved Books of the Twentieth Century." It lists 52 books, of which when I saw the book, in 1998, I had read 31 i then read this book, listed therein. It was published in 1917 and is such a "nice" book. It tells of Helen McGill, who buys from Roger Mifflin a van (pulled by a horse) stocked with books. There are adventures and Roger and Helen end up getting married. Sweet, old-fashioned, and fun to read. I read it in two hours..
    • 4/5
      Miss Helen McGill lives with her brother, Andrew, on a farm. She is eminently practical and hardworking while he, an author, is prone to let farm work go in lieu of rambles in the countryside - food for his writing. So when a traveling salesman with a "Parnassus" - a wagon full to bursting with books - comes selling his wagon and pony, Miss McGill decides she'll buy it herself rather than let Andrew take off again.This is such a cute, humorous story. Miss McGill reminds me quite a lot of Marilla Cuthbert, if the latter had a literary brother instead of one who wanted to take in an orphan. Though written in 1917 (and set in 1907), the characters' thoughts on reading and good books will still ring true for today's readers. The course of the plot never really surprised me, but it was such a warm story that I couldn't help enjoying it. The perfect comfort read for curling up on a cool evening with a cup of cocoa.
    • 4/5
      A cute little story about a traveling wagon of books. The "Professor" is a delightful character. The story is narrated by Helen, and I'm not sure what I think of that decision. A good quick read.
    • 4/5
      This story, originally published in 1917 is a book-lover's delight. Narrated as a first person account, it tells of the wonderful adventure of Helen McGill, an unmarried woman in her late 30s who decides to take a break from the household duties that bind her to the farm she shares with her brother Andrew, a widely published author and a difficult man to live with. When a funny little salesman named Roger Mifflin shows up at their house one day with a horse and caravan filled with books, Helen sees a great opportunity. Roger has come to the McGill farm with the intention of selling his traveling bookstore—called Parnassus on Wheels—to Andrew, as he's read and admired his books and is certain that as a fellow book lover and adventurer, Andrew will jump on the occasion. But Helen surprises Roger when she declares she is willing to use up her savings and buy up the caravan for herself, and a deal is made which includes Mr. Mifflin showing her the ropes for a day before setting off to Brooklyn, where he plans to settle down and write a book of his own. A short and very satisfying read. Recommended.
    • 4/5
      Parnassus on Wheels is a little book with a big message. It illustrates the power of books and reading to change lives. Spinster Helen McGill seems content to keep house and cook for her brother, Andrew. However, after Andrew becomes a successful author, Helen resents the time he spends away from home and his neglect of his responsibilities for the farm. When a traveling book salesman shows up during one of Andrew's absences, Helen impulsively buys his stock and his traveling wagon, Parnassus. She feared that Andrew would buy it if she didn't, and that he would spend even more time away from the farm. As the Professor shares the secrets of book selling with Helen, it opens her mind to unrealized possibilities for her life. Through the book seller, Helen learns that contentment can't be found through dedication to physical labor alone. To live a balanced life, one must nurture the mind as well as the body. This book is short enough to read in one sitting, and it's well worth the time spent.
    • 4/5
      What a delightful book! Helen McGill was saved from life as a governess by her brother Andrew who bought a farm. He's also a successful author who often goes on trips to research his books, leaving his sister alone to manage the farm. When Roger Mifflin shows up with his Parnassus of Books he hopes to sell Andrew, Helen buys it instead, leaving to embark on her bookselling adventure immediately. What an adventure it ends up being! This is a book lover's book!
    • 3/5
      This is a cheap and cheerful little tale about the beauty of reading and the personal agency that can come from literacy. As such, it can't help but feel a little didactic sometimes - in fact, in its strongest moments, Morley might as well be delivering a monologue about the power of books. The funny thing is how that basically runs counter to Morley's own assertion that the very best books have a lot of heart and very little "forehead"; this story is certainly very sweet, but it seems to have an intellectual, teachy motivation behind it that's a little hard to ignore. Worse, it makes it hard to make an emotional connection with the book. There are aspects of "Parnassus" - the unconventional buddy/romance pairing, the travelogue, the encounters with ordinary people on the road - that are reminiscent of movies 20 years later (most obviously, "It Happened One Night"); a 1930s comedy, however, even at its most screwball, would generally be more endearing. "Parnassus on Wheels" is a pleasant little read, but it doesn't really stick with you.
    • 5/5
      Helen McGill’s brother is a famous author. While he goes on frequent long adventures to gain inspiration for his books, she is stuck at home cooking and baking and cleaning, and generally keeping things in shape for him.Then one day Mr. Mifflin shows up at her door with a horse drawn Parnassus, a traveling book store. He says he wants to go back to Brooklyn to write a novel, and would her brother be interested in buying Parnassus? Helen knows that her brother would buy it in a heartbeat. But she’s sick of always being left behind. She deserves a vacation. So she buys Parnassus herself, and she and Mr. Mifflin set off on an adventure. He’s going to show her the ropes, and then leave for Brooklyn to write his book.Parnassus on Wheels is an account of Helen’s adventure, and her liberation. It is funny, and heartwarming, and a dream come true for lovers of books everywhere. Who wouldn’t want to live in a traveling library? Helen and Mr. Mifflin are both fascinating characters. This is a must read for those who love books!
    • 5/5
      "Parnassus on Wheels," by Christopher Morley was a hit in 1917. My 1955 paperback edition is illustrated by Douglas Gorsline and has an introduction by John T. Winterich. (I have no idea when I bought it, and was surprised to find it on my bookcase recently.)On a personal level: This was my mother's favorite book, but tho I recall seeing her copy (hardback/purple cover) I'm sure I did not read it. So it was a special pleasure to find how charming this tale of book-adventure is. Helen McGill, housekeeper for her brother on a farm, is liberated when she impulsively buys a horse-drawn bookshop. The books, the wagon, the horse, the dog, AND Roger Mifflin, who sells them to her: all are fascinating.Here's a book for all LTers. Find it at library, or buy it on-line, or look thru your holdings: if you are lucky you may have a copy too.
    • 5/5
      Parnassus is a horsedrawn RV/Traveling bookstore. Its narrator is a 39 year old well-educated spinster, Helen McGill, who was once a schoolmarm/nanny but who is now wasting away on a farm tending the house and the pigs and the chickens for her starry -eyed brother who is a writer. Along comes Roger Mifflin, writer wannabe, owner of Parnassus, who says he wants to sell his road show to Helen's brother. The adventure begins when Helen says what amounts to "phooey on that - I'm buying it myself", leaves a "bye-bye, see you later" note to her brother, and sets off with Mr. Mifflin to learn the bookselling ropes.I so enjoyed this story, and I'm so glad I have a copy to read and re-read. It takes less than 2 hours to read, and only 3 1/2 to listen to. If you haven't discovered this classic, do go get your hands on it.
    • 4/5
      I am astonished to see how many LibraryThingers have reviewed this book! It was totally unknown to me until recommended by a friend. This novel is perhaps the ultimate fantasy for anyone who loves books – leaving all the cares and frustrations of one’s daily life behind to have an adventure as a traveling bookseller in a cozy, well-appointed wagon with all your needs at your fingertips and more books than you could ever read in a lifetime. And a companion who loves books every bit as much as you.Parnassus on Wheels is a gentle tale of a woman getting on in years who decides to buy an itinerant bookshop and -- for once in her life -- stop worrying about getting a tasty meal on the table. Not being as well read as the characters in book, I had to look up Parnassus. In Greek mythology it is the mountain where the muses live. I’d argue the muses live in on in this wonderful little book.
    • 4/5
      This is a delightful story of an unmarried woman approaching the age of 40 who has spent most of her adult life keeping house for her brother who instead of staying home to tend the farm goes off on adventures which he turns into best selling books. One day, to prevent her brother from doing so, she buys a large horse and wagon full of books complete with a dog and starts off on an adventure of her own. This takes place in the early 20th century when such actions were unheard of for women and the ensuing contretemps are at times funny and quite delightful. I had very little idea of what this book was about and found myself charmed by the story and looking forward to the sequel, The Haunted Bookshop.
    • 5/5
      This was a purely delightful book. I read it while wiling away the day in the Dallas airport as flight after flight was postponed, then canceled. It's the story of a bookseller who travels New England with a wonderful book store on wheels, pulled by a horse. His dog Bock accompanies him. He has decided to sell of Parnassus (the wheeled store) and finds a likely buyer in a farm woman who keep house for her author brother -- a very demanding sort. On a whim, she decides to buy the cart, horse and dog thrown in. However, the seller doesn't abandon her: he decides to go along for awhile to show her the ropes. What a delightful pair and what fun adventures they have spreading enlightenment along their route.
    • 3/5
      Parnassus on Wheels is a novella about a sweet but prosaic rural woman who decides on a whim to buy a travelling book wagon. This is the first time she's really experienced freedom, and she thoroughly enjoys her liberties as she meets people on the road, and as her relationship to the previous owner (a spry man that affectionately nicknamed the Professor) deepens. Parnassus on Wheels is a nice read for an afternoon, but it only runs 150 pages and there's not either much action or much rumination.
    • 5/5
      Parnassus on Wheels tells the story of Helen McGill, sister and housekeeper to her farmer-writer brother who, in an effort to prevent him from buying a portable bookshop, buys it herself and proceeds to have several adventures, at the end of which she falls in love with the original proprietor of the Parnassus itself, marries him, and head to Brooklyn to settle down.
    • 5/5
      Parnassus on Wheels is the story of Helen McGill, a nearly 40 year old woman, who lives with her brother on a farm, and keeps house for him. The balance of their calm existant is upset when her brother begins writing and publishing books, and seems to become obsessed with them; slacking off on the farmwork and leaving her to carry on alone for long periods of time. When a travelling booksalesman comes to try and sell his outfit to her brother, she goes to drastic and impulsive lengths to keep her brother from buying more books and leaving the farm again; and in so doing begins an adventure of her own.This is a delightful little book. I don't know how I have missed reading it, or even knowing of it. I chanced on it at the library book sale for a quarter, and am so glad I did, else I might have gone my whole life never knowing of its existance. I would not call it a literary masterpiece, but I had a smile on my face while reading it, and I think that is a pretty good judge of a books merit.Christopher Morley does not, however, pull off a woman narrator very well. It was very hard not to think of the person telling the story as a man, even with his frequent reference to self as a heavy, fat, large, spinster. This was overlookable, though, for the story was very fun, and the character of the professor (owner of Parnassus on wheels) extremely vibrant.From the book: "'when you sell a man a book you don't sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night. - there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book I mean. Jiminy! If I were the baker or the butcher or the broom huckster, people would run when I came by - just waiting for my stuff. And here I go with everlasting salvation - yes ma'am, salvation for their little stunted minds - and it's hard to make them see it."Isn't it true that those who read seem to think of those who don't as having small minds. There seems to be a prejudice on both sides of the matter. As Christopher Morley points out through his character at the beginning of the book. Helen McGill opens up her story by saying, "I wonder if there isn't a lot of bunkum in higher education. I never found that people who were learned in logarithms and other kind of poetry were any quicker in washing dishes or darning socks...I've also seen lots of good, practical folks spoiled by too much fine print. Reading sonnets always gives me hiccups, too." Of course, Helen changes her views by the end of the story, but it is a good point. I certainly can't say that any 'book learning' I have acquired has helped me out much in the day to day mundane tasks, and reading does take me away from these things. I don't believe that one point of view is right or wrong. And I don't believe that enjoying reading makes me in any way better than people who don't. I think the best we can hope for is to find someone who shares the same views. Someone who dosen't mind floor to celing books in the house, and the dishes left undone when an especially tantalizing book is calling.
    • 5/5
      Protagonist: middle-aged Helen McGillSetting: New England around 1910First Line: I wonder if there isn't a lot of bunkum in higher education? "There are a few days when the world seems to hang still in a dreaming, sweet hush, at the very fulness of the fruit before the decline sets in. I have no words (like Andrew) to describe it, but every autumn for years I have noticed it. I remember that sometimes at the farm I used to lean over the wood pile for a moment just before supper to watch those purple October sunsets. I would hear the sharp ting of Andrew's little typewriter bell as he was working in his study. And then I would try to swallow down within me the beauty and wistfulness of it all, and run back to mash the potatoes."Such is the life of forty-year-old Helen McGill, a woman who began her working life as a governess. For the past several years, she's been on a New England farm, taking care of her brother, Andrew, who's become a successful writer. Andrew's begun to vex the pudding out of Helen. Now that he's famous, he thinks nothing of packing a bag and taking off for weeks at a time, leaving her all the work on the farm. Helen's had enough. The day Roger Mifflin appears, rolling up the drive in a homemade book wagon pulled by a fat old horse, she panics. Mifflin wants to get out of the book trade and return to Brooklyn to write his own book. From reading her brother Andrew's books, Mifflin feels that he is just the person that will buy his "Parnassus on Wheels". Helen agrees whole-heartedly. In fact, she can already see Andrew loading up the wagon and disappearing for months (instead of weeks) at a time. In a move to forestall Andrew, Helen buys the wagon, all the contents, the horse and the dog for $400--the money she's been saving to buy a Ford.But something else grabs hold of Helen. She's never had a vacation. She's never even had a tiny little adventure. Thinking that it would serve Andrew right if she took off on her own jaunt, she packs a bag, climbs into Parnassus the wagon, and Mifflin takes her out on the road to show her how to survive in the traveling book trade.In 1917, Morley, a lowly editor of the Doubleday, Page & Company of Long Island, was miffed because he was refused a raise. He started writing Parnassus on Wheels during spare moments. The book was accepted, and the print run of 1500 sold out. Nice, but not spectacular. What this 130-page book did was launch him into fame as a writer in the early twentieth century. I can see why. I think I had a smile plastered on my face the entire time I read this book. Morley has a cast of brilliant characters, especially Helen, and the autumn in New England setting was so well done that I felt as though I had my own seat on the book wagon. The illustrations were a perfect counterpoint to the text. Even though some of the terminology may confuse readers who aren't familiar with that era, they should still find it a delightful story. Give it a try--I seriously doubt that you'll be disappointed!
    • 3/5
      Some harmless fun. However, I don't know that Morley was a very good writer--even though the narrator is a middle-aged woman, the tone is very masculine and so I kept inadvertently picturing a sort of rural cross-dresser, which was both weird and distracting.
    • 4/5
      first line: "I wonder if there isn't a lot of bunkum in higher education?""Parnassus on Wheels" is a horse-drawn wagon, out of which a bookseller lives and plies his trade. (In The Haunted Bookshop, the more substantial sequel to this novel, the titular store is "Parnassus at Home.") The proprietor, Roger, sells his business to the anything-but-bookish narrator, Helen, then travels with her while she learns the trade.A quick, witty, entertaining read. Very funny and fun. Filled with classical and literary allusions, but with more whimsy than pedantry about it.
    • 4/5
      A wonderful, short, simple tale. A good read for any booklover. You'll find yourself daydreaming of a time when you could have followed the Professor's lead and hit the road with a wagonload of books. The book is set on the rural coastal area around NYC around the turn of the century, when books were still hard to come by away from the cities.I highly recommend the 1955 Doubleday edition with illustrations by Douglas Gorsline.Morley wrote a sequel - "The Haunted Bookshop".
    • 4/5
      Another fun read from Morley, this prequel to "The Haunted Bookshop" is told from the perspective of Helen McGill, a harried farm spinster who meets the inimitable Roger Mifflin. Adventures follow. Recommended for any lovers of books, bookselling, or just a good yarn.

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    Parnassus On Wheels - Christopher Morley

    Parnassus On Wheels

    Christopher Morley

    Booklassic

    2015

    ISBN 978-963-525-359-3

    To H.B.F. and H.F.M.

    A LETTER TO

    David Grayson, Esq.

    OF HEMPFIELD, U.S.A.

    MY DEAR SIR,

    Although my name appears on the title page, the real author of this book is Miss Helen McGill (now Mrs. Roger Mifflin), who told me the story with her own inimitable vivacity. And on her behalf I want to send to you these few words of acknowledgment.

    Mrs. Mifflin, I need hardly say, is unskilled in the arts of authorship: this is her first book, and I doubt whether she will ever write another. She hardly realized, I think, how much her story owes to your own delightful writings. There used to be a well-thumbed copy of Adventures in Contentment on her table at the Sabine Farm, and I have seen her pick it up, after a long day in the kitchen, read it with chuckles, and say that the story of you and Harriet reminded her of herself and Andrew. She used to mutter something about Adventures in Discontentment and ask why Harriet's side of the matter was never told? And so when her own adventure came to pass, and she was urged to put it on paper, I think she unconsciously adopted something of the manner and matter that you have made properly yours.

    Surely, sir, you will not disown so innocent a tribute! At any rate, Miss Harriet Grayson, whose excellent qualities we have all so long admired, will find in Mrs. Mifflin a kindred spirit.

    Mrs. Mifflin would have said this for herself, with her characteristic definiteness of speech, had she not been out of touch with her publishers and foolscap paper. She and the Professor are on their Parnassus, somewhere on the high roads, happily engrossed in the most godly diversion known to man—selling books. And I venture to think that there are no volumes they take more pleasure in recommending than the wholesome and invigorating books which bear your name.

    Believe me, dear Mr. Grayson, with warm regards,

    Faithfully yours,

    CHRISTOPHER MORLEY.

    Chapter 1

    I wonder if there isn't a lot of bunkum in higher education? I never found that people who were learned in logarithms and other kinds of poetry were any quicker in washing dishes or darning socks. I've done a good deal of reading when I could, and I don't want to admit impediments to the love of books, but I've also seen lots of good, practical folk spoiled by too much fine print. Reading sonnets always gives me hiccups, too.

    I never expected to be an author! But I do think there are some amusing things about the story of Andrew and myself and how books broke up our placid life. When John Gutenberg, whose real name (so the Professor says) was John Gooseflesh, borrowed that money to set up his printing press he launched a lot of troubles on the world.

    Andrew and I were wonderfully happy on the farm until he became an author. If I could have foreseen all the bother his writings were to cause us, I would certainly have burnt the first manuscript in the kitchen stove.

    Andrew McGill, the author of those books every one reads, is my brother. In other words, I am his sister, ten years younger. Years ago Andrew was a business man, but his health failed and, like so many people in the story books, he fled to the country, or, as he called it, to the bosom of Nature. He and I were the only ones left in an unsuccessful family. I was slowly perishing as a conscientious governess in the brownstone region of New York. He rescued me from that and we bought a farm with our combined savings. We became real farmers, up with the sun and to bed with the same. Andrew wore overalls and a soft shirt and grew brown and tough. My hands got red and blue with soapsuds and frost; I never saw a Redfern advertisement from one year's end to another, and my kitchen was a battlefield where I set my teeth and learned to love hard work. Our literature was government agriculture reports, patent medicine almanacs, seedsmen's booklets, and Sears Roebuck catalogues. We subscribed to Farm and Fireside and read the serials aloud. Every now and then, for real excitement, we read something stirring in the Old Testament—that cheery book Jeremiah, for instance, of which Andrew was very fond. The farm did actually prosper, after a while; and Andrew used to hang over the pasture bars at sunset, and tell, from the way his pipe burned, just what the weather would be the next day.

    As I have said, we were tremendously happy until Andrew got the fatal idea of telling the world how happy we were. I am sorry to have to admit he had always been rather a bookish man. In his college days he had edited the students' magazine, and sometimes he would get discontented with the Farm and Fireside serials and pull down his bound volumes of the college paper. He would read me some of his youthful poems and stories and mutter vaguely about writing something himself some day. I was more concerned with sitting hens than with sonnets and I'm bound to say I never took these threats very seriously. I should have been more severe.

    Then great-uncle Philip died, and his carload of books came to us. He had been a college professor, and years ago when Andrew was a boy Uncle Philip had been very fond of him—had, in fact, put him through college. We were the only near relatives, and all those books turned up one fine day. That was the beginning of the end, if I had only known it. Andrew had the time of his life building shelves all round our living-room; not content with that he turned the old hen house into a study for himself, put in a stove, and used to sit up there evenings after I had gone to bed. The first thing I knew he called the place Sabine Farm (although it had been known for years as Bog Hollow) because he thought it a literary thing to do. He used to take a book along with him when he drove over to Redfield for supplies; sometimes the wagon would be two hours late coming home, with old Ben loafing along between the shafts and Andrew lost in his book.

    I didn't think much of all this, but I'm an easy-going woman and as long as Andrew kept the farm going I had plenty to do on my own hook. Hot bread and coffee, eggs and preserves for breakfast; soup and hot meat, vegetables, dumplings, gravy, brown bread and white, huckleberry pudding, chocolate cake and buttermilk for dinner; muffins, tea, sausage rolls, blackberries and cream, and doughnuts for supper—that's the kind of menu I had been preparing three times a day for years. I hadn't any time to worry about what wasn't my business.

    And then one morning I caught Andrew doing up a big, flat parcel for the postman. He looked so sheepish I just had to ask what it was.

    I've written a book, said Andrew, and he showed me the title page—

      PARADISE REGAINED

      BY

      ANDREW McGILL

    Even then I wasn't much worried, because of course I knew no one would print it. But Lord! a month or so later came a letter from a publisher—accepting it! That's the letter Andrew keeps framed above his desk. Just to show how such things sound I'll copy it here:

    DECAMERON, JONES AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK

    January 13, 1907.

    DEAR MR. McGILL:

    We have read with singular pleasure your manuscript Paradise Regained. There is no doubt in our minds that so spirited an account of the joys of sane country living should meet with popular approval, and, with the exception of a few revisions and abbreviations, we would be glad to publish the book practically as it stands. We would like to have it illustrated by Mr. Tortoni, some of whose work you may have seen, and would be glad to know whether he may call upon you in order to acquaint himself with the local colour of your neighbourhood.

    We would be glad to pay you a royalty of 10 percent upon the retail price of the book, and we enclose duplicate contracts for your signature in case this proves satisfactory to you.

    Believe us, etc., etc.,

    DECAMERON, JONES & CO.

    I have since thought that Paradise Lost would have been a better title for that book. It was published in the autumn of 1907, and since that time our life has never been the same. By some mischance the book became the success of the season; it was widely commended as a gospel of health and sanity and Andrew received, in almost every mail, offers from publishers and magazine editors who wanted to get hold of his next book. It is almost incredible to what stratagems publishers will descend to influence an author. Andrew had written in Paradise Regained of the tramps who visit us, how quaint and appealing some of them are (let me add, how dirty), and how we never turn away any one who seems worthy. Would you believe that, in the spring after the book was published, a disreputable-looking vagabond with a knapsack, who turned up one day, blarneyed Andrew about his book and stayed overnight, announced himself at breakfast as a leading New York publisher? He had chosen this ruse in order to make Andrew's acquaintance.

    You can imagine that it didn't take long for Andrew to become spoiled at this rate! The next year he suddenly disappeared, leaving only a note on the kitchen table, and tramped all over the state for six weeks collecting material for a new book. I had all I could do to keep him from going to New York to talk to editors and people of that sort. Envelopes of newspaper cuttings used to come to him, and he would pore over them when he ought to have been ploughing corn. Luckily the mail man comes along about the middle of the morning when Andrew is out in the fields, so I used to look over the letters before he saw them. After the second book (Happiness and Hayseed it was called) was printed, letters from publishers got so thick that I used to put them all in the stove before Andrew saw them—except those from the Decameron Jones people, which sometimes held checks. Literary folk used to turn

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