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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Or, Humors on the Border; A story of the Old Virginia Frontier"

It lies wholly in the
hand-writing."
"Possible, sir?"
"Yes; highly probable even. No great man ever yet wrote legibly, and
I hold that such a thing is conclusive evidence of a narrowness of
intellect. Great men uniformly use a species of scrawl which people
have to study, sir, before they can understand. Like the Oracles of
Delphos, the manuscript is mysterious because it is profound. My own
belief, sir, is, that Homer's manuscript--if he had one, which I
doubt--resembled a sheet of paper over which a fly with inked feet has
crawled;--and you may imagine, sir, the respect, and, I may add, the
labor, of the old Greek type-setters in publishing the first edition
of the Iliad."
This dissertation had the effect of diverting Mr. Roundjacket's mind
temporarily from his affliction; but his grief soon returned in full
force again.
"To think it!" he cried, flourishing his ruler, and ready to
weep,--"to think that after taking all the trouble to disguise my
clear running hand, and write as became an author of my standing--in
hieroglyphics--to think that this should be the result of all my
trouble.


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