an auction bill?” Suddenly a happy thought struck me:  it was to write a novel, in which only the actual spirit of the narration should be retained, rejecting all expletives, flourishes, and ornamental figures of speech; to be terse and abrupt in style—­use monosyllables always in preference to polysyllables—­and to eschew all heroes and heroines whose names contain more than four letters.  Full of this idea, on my returning home in the evening, I sat to my desk, and before I retired to rest, had written a novel of three neat, portable volumes; which, I assert, any lady or gentlemen, who has had the advantage of a liberal education, may get through with tolerable ease, in the time occupied by the railroad train running from London to Birmingham.

I will not dilate on the many advantages which this description of writing possesses over all others.  Lamplighters, commercial bagmen, omnibus-cads, tavern-waiters, and general postmen, may “read as they run.”  Fiddlers at the theatres, during the rests in a piece of music, may also benefit by my invention; for which, if the following specimen meet your approbation, I shall instantly apply for a patent.

SPECIMEN.

CLARE GREY: 

A NOVEL.

“Brief let me be.”

LONDON:  Printed and Published for the Author.

1841.

VOL.  I.

Clare Grey—­Sweet girl—­Bloom and blushes, roses, lilies, dew-drops, &c.—­Tom Lee—­Young, gay, but poor—­Loved Clare madly—­Clare loved Tom ditto—­Clare’s pa’ rich, old, cross, cruel, &c.—­Smelt a rat—­D——­d Tom, and swore at Clare—­Tears, sighs, locks, bolts, and bars—­Love’s schemes—­Billet-doux from Tom, conveyed to Clare in a dish of peas, crammed with vows, love, despair, hope—­Answer (pencil and curl-paper), slipped through key-hole—­Full of hope, despair, love, vows—­Tom serenades—­Bad cold—­Rather hoarse—­White kerchief from garret-window—­“’Tis Clare! ’tis Clare!”—­Garden-wall, six feet high—­Love is rash—­Scale the wall—­Great house-dog at home—­Pins Tom by the calf—­Old Hunk’s roused—­Fire! thieves! guns, swords, and rushlights—­Tom caught—­Murder, burglary—­Station-house, gaol, justice—­Fudge!—­Pretty mess—­Heigho!—­’Oh! ‘tis love,’ &c.—­Sweet Clare Grey!—­Seven pages of sentiment—­Lame leg, light purse, heavy heart—­Pshaw!—­Never mind—­

[Illustration:  “THINGS MAY TAKE ANOTHER TURN”]

VOL.  II.

“Adieu, my native land,” &c.—­D.I.O.—­“We part to meet again”—­Death or glory—­Red coat—­Laurels and rupees in view—­Vows of constancy, eternal truth, &c—­Tom swells the brine with tears—­Clare wipes her eyes in cambric—­Alas! alack! oh! ah!—­Fond hearts, doomed to part—­Cruel fate!—­Ten pages, poetry, romance, &c. &c.—­Tom in battle—­Cut, slash, dash—­Sabres, rifles—­Round and grape in showers—­Hot work—­Charge!—­Whizz—­Bang!—­Flat as a Flounder—­Never say die—­Peace—­Sweet sound—­Scars, wounds, wooden leg, one arm, and one eye—­Half-pay—­Home—­Huzza!—­Swift gales—­Post-horses—­Love, hope, and Clare Grey—­