Hoping to hear from you."
I lay these paragraphs respectfully at the feet of the conductors of the
new paper.
THE LENGTH OF NOVELS
[_22 Sep. '10_]
It happened lately to a lady who is one of the pillars of the _British
Weekly_ to state in her column of innocuous gossip about clothes, weather,
and holidays, that a hundred thousand words or three hundred and fifty
pages was the "comfortable limit" for a novel. I feel sure she meant no
harm by it, and that she attached but little importance to it. The thing
was expressed with a condescension which was perhaps scarcely becoming in
a paragraphist, but such accidents will happen even in the most
workmanlike columns of gossip, and are to be forgiven. Nevertheless, the
_Westminster Gazette_ has seized hold of the paragraph, framed it in
22-carat gold, and hung it up for observation, and a magnificent summer
correspondence has blossomed round about it, to the great profit of the
_Westminster Gazette_, which receives, gratis, daily about a column and a
half of matter signed by expensive names. Other papers, daily and weekly,
have also joined in the din and the fray. As the discussion is perfectly
futile, I do not propose to add to it. In spite of the more or less
violent expression of preferences, nobody really cares whether a novel is
long or short.
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