• Stephen Leacock again

    From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to All on Tue Jul 3 16:03:20 2018
    Hi, All!

    ....A high authority said:
    "Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and the flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of the woods and hills"? For instance like this:

    "Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress inspired by the woods and hills, rivers and the flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the enduring sources of joy".


    By, All!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Anton Shepelev@2:221/6 to alexander koryagin on Tue Jul 3 23:14:34 2018
    Alexander Koryagin:

    ...A high authority said:

    Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress
    inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and the
    flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the
    enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of the
    woods and hills"?

    An excellent question that shows you posessed of keen
    observance and that I cannot answer.

    By the way, it should be

    change "of" to "by"

    ---
    * Origin: - nntp://news.fidonet.fi - Lake Ylo - Finland - (2:221/6)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Anton Shepelev on Wed Jul 4 16:28:29 2018
    Anton Shepelev -> Alexander Koryagin!
    I read your message from 03.07.2018 23:14
    about Stephen Leacock again.

    Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress
    inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and the
    flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the
    enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of the
    woods and hills"?

    An excellent question that shows you posessed of keen
    observance and that I cannot answer.

    By the way, it should be

    change "of" to "by"

    Probably, it should have been more correct in this way: "Can I substitute ... for ...".

    Although, taking in mind that both the meanings are synonymous, "for", IMHO, should be OK for both. What will say our native speakers? ;)

    Bye, Anton!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Anton Shepelev@2:221/6 to alexander koryagin on Wed Jul 4 11:23:48 2018
    Alexander Koryagin:

    ...A high authority said:

    Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress
    inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and the
    flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the
    enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of
    the woods and hills"? For instance like this:

    By the way, it should be

    change "of" to "by"

    Probably, it should have been more correct in this way:
    "Can I substitute ... for ...".

    Depends on how you fill the ellipses.

    Although, taking in mind that both the meanings are
    synonymous, "for", IMHO, should be OK for both.

    But are not synonymous. In order to replace A with B you
    have to substitute B for A.

    What will say our native speakers? ;)

    Looking forward to their opinions.

    ---
    * Origin: - nntp://news.fidonet.fi - Lake Ylo - Finland - (2:221/6)
  • From Paul Quinn@3:640/384.125 to alexander koryagin on Wed Jul 4 18:20:07 2018
    Hi! Alexander,

    On 07/04/2018 03:28 PM, you wrote to Anton Shepelev:

    change "of" to "by"

    Probably, it should have been more correct in this way: "Can I
    substitute ... for ...".

    Although, taking in mind that both the meanings are synonymous, "for", IMHO, should be OK for both. What will say our native speakers? ;)

    Yes, it would still 'ring' (sound) okay. But the quote would be invalidated.

    Cheers,
    Paul.

    --- Mozilla/5.0 (X11; Linux i686; rv:31.0) Gecko/20100101 Thunderbird/31.4.0
    * Origin: Who is General Failure and why is he reading my disk? (3:640/384.125)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Anton Shepelev on Wed Jul 4 19:46:37 2018
    Anton Shepelev -> Alexander Koryagin!
    I read your message from 04.07.2018 11:23
    about Stephen Leacock again.

    Probably, it should have been more correct in this way:
    "Can I substitute ... for ...".

    Depends on how you fill the ellipses.

    This way: "Can I substitute 'by' for 'of' in 'progress inspired of the woods and hills'?"

    Although, taking in mind that both the meanings are
    synonymous, "for", IMHO, should be OK for both.

    But are not synonymous. In order to replace A with B you
    have to substitute B for A.

    Indeed, it should be then:
    "Can I change 'by' for 'of' in 'progress inspired of the woods and hills'?"

    PS: I was useful to repeat the meaning of "substitute". ;-)

    Bye, Anton!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Wed Jul 4 23:02:39 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to All:

    ....A high authority said:


    Robertson Davies (1913-1995)... i.e. the Canadian writer, newspaper editor, and part-time university instructor? Yes, I would agree that he knew what he was doing & I'm delighted that you're studying Canadian authors. ;-)



    "Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress
    inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and [the]
    flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the
    enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of
    the woods and hills"?


    Once I'd typed out enough of the citation Google located an article published in the July 1962 edition of the ROTARIAN magazine which seems to be the one you are referring to. This version says "inspired *by* the woods and hills", as you suggested.


    https://tinyurl.com/ycbd9nrk



    From a stylistic POV I'd keep the second "by" as it stands.... :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Fri Jul 6 16:56:58 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton!
    I read your message from 04.07.2018 15:02
    about Stephen Leacock again.

    Robertson Davies (1913-1995)... i.e. the Canadian writer, newspaper editor, and part-time university instructor? Yes, I would agree
    that he knew what he was doing & I'm delighted that you're studying Canadian authors. ;-)

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A lecture on walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written by Stephen Leacock. AFAIR, he was a Canadian, too, although he was born in the UK. He hadn't told us who was that "high authority".

    BTW, can I say the last sentence without "us"?
    "He hadn't told who was that 'high authority'".

    "Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress inspired of
    the woods and hills, by rivers and [the] flowers of the field, a
    serene partaking of the enduring sources of joy".

    Can I change "of" for "by" in "progress inspired of the woods and
    hills"?

    Once I'd typed out enough of the citation Google located an article published in the July 1962 edition of the ROTARIAN magazine which
    seems to be the one you are referring to. This version
    says "inspired *by* the woods and hills", as you suggested.

    https://tinyurl.com/ycbd9nrk

    From a stylistic POV I'd keep the second "by" as it stands.... :-)

    I don't know. Although I know that American and British versions can be slightly different. This photo taken from my paper book (published in the USSR in 1958).

    https://drive.google.com/open?id=1LhmuaB1Q_NC_Ng6pTDdJQJeaLBw9gKdN

    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to Ardith Hinton on Thu Jul 5 23:20:04 2018
    Now it's my turn for second thoughts... [wry grin].

    Google located an article published in the July 1962
    edition of the ROTARIAN magazine which seems to be
    the one you are referring to.


    I should have said "the July 1962 *issue* of the ROTARIAN magazine".
    The word "edition" is more typically applied to newspapers & books, which often
    incorporate various changes when the material is republished awhile later. :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From Anton Shepelev@2:221/6 to Ardith Hinton on Fri Jul 6 23:06:58 2018
    Ardith Hinton:
    Stephen Leacock wrote:
    ...A high authority said:

    Walking in the nobler sense is a measured progress
    inspired of the woods and hills, by rivers and the
    flowers of the field, a serene partaking of the
    enduring sources of joy.

    Once I'd typed out enough of the citation Google located
    an article published in the July 1962 edition of the
    ROTARIAN magazine which seems to be the one you are
    referring to. This version says "inspired *by* the
    woods and hills"

    They hay surely smelleth of that weed, for the parallel
    phrase that follows does have "by".

    Yet "inpired of" is not ungrammatical, and the bible, for
    example, is often said to be inspired of God, but how
    different it is from being "inspired by God" is not a simple
    matter. When I thought so hard that the ridges of my brain
    rubbed and my skull creaked, I have come to the conclusion
    that "of" implies a passive source of inspiration, whereas
    "by" refers to an active agency. Do you agree?

    ---
    * Origin: - nntp://news.fidonet.fi - Lake Ylo - Finland - (2:221/6)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Wed Jul 11 23:56:05 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    Robertson Davies (1913-1995)... i.e. the Canadian
    writer, newspaper editor, and part-time university
    instructor? Yes, I would agree that he knew what
    he was doing & I'm delighted that you're studying
    Canadian authors. ;-)

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A
    lecture on walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written
    by Stephen Leacock. AFAIR, he was a Canadian, too,
    although he was born in the UK. He hadn't told us
    who was that "high authority".


    Ah. From my POV the additional information is very helpful.... :-)

    Davies' essay was simply entitled "Walking". In this case, however,
    the author identified the source of the quotation... i.e. his own personal copy
    of the ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA. Leacock may or may not have had access to the
    same edition, but it seems both he & Davies researched the topic.

    According to THE CANADIAN ENCYCLOPEDIA, Leacock settled in Canada at
    the age of six & apart from studying at the University of Chicago remained here
    from that time onward. During the early 20th century such people were regarded
    as "naturalized citizens" after living in this country for awhile. I can't say
    how long "awhile" was thought to be, but I saw the principle applied to members
    of my immediate family & I'm quite content to regard him as a Canadian.... ;-)



    BTW, can I say the last sentence without "us"?
    "He hadn't told who was that 'high authority'".


    I would accept "He didn't say who that high authority was". I'm not
    sure how to account for my own discomfort about leaving out the indirect object
    with "(to) tell" in this context, though, because we do it in other cases. :-(



    I know that American and British versions can be slightly
    different.


    Yes... and different editors may have different ideas, regardless of
    where they live or what audience the publisher hopes to attract.

    I've now requested LAST LEAVES from the public library.... :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Thu Jul 12 20:33:23 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton!
    I read your message from 11.07.2018 15:56
    about Stephen Leacock again.

    BTW, can I say the last sentence without "us"?
    "He hadn't told who was that 'high authority'".


    I would accept "He didn't say who that high authority was". I'm not sure how to account for my own discomfort about leaving out the indirect object with "(to) tell" in this context, though, because we do
    it in other cases. :-(


    I see. The indirect object is a holy cow when we use "to tell". ;-) As we say in Russia -- a habit is the second nature. ;)


    I know that American and British versions can be slightly
    different.


    Yes... and different editors may have different ideas, regardless of where they live or what audience the publisher hopes to attract.

    We probably can also say that the language has been changing towards simplification and unification.

    I've now requested LAST LEAVES from the public library....
    :-)

    Yes, I also could not find it on-line.

    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Anton Shepelev@2:221/6 to alexander koryagin on Sat Jul 14 12:06:08 2018
    Alexander Koryagin:

    The indirect object is a holy cow when we use
    "to tell". ;-)

    "Only time will tell" -- a hackneyed English phrase
    and a song by Bobby Charles.

    ---
    * Origin: - nntp://news.fidonet.fi - Lake Ylo - Finland - (2:221/6)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to Anton Shepelev on Sun Jul 15 23:40:45 2018
    Hi, Anton! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    This version says "inspired *by* the woods and hills"

    They hay surely smelleth of that weed,


    Or somebody's brain slipped a cog because it was Friday afternoon & the deadline was uncomfortably close? I've often noticed an increasing number of errors as I read +/- the last third of a book.... ;-)



    for the parallel phrase that follows does have "by".


    Yes. The writers of the day would have understood parallelism, and used it to maximum effect when such an opportunity presented itself. :-)



    Yet "inpired of" is not ungrammatical, and the bible,
    for example, is often said to be inspired of God, but
    how different it is from being "inspired by God" is
    not a simple matter.


    I was thinking along much the same lines, and eventually managed to track down a few examples using "beloved of". This construction is not one we use often, however... and I don't see it as a simple matter either. If we say "required of", e.g., the meaning is very different from that of "required by". With "inspired" or "beloved" the difference (if any) is less clear AFAIC. :-)



    When I thought so hard that the ridges of my brain rubbed
    and my skull creaked, I have come to the conclusion that
    "of" implies a passive source of inspiration, whereas "by"
    refers to an active agency. Do you agree?


    Re "inspired" it is difficult to be sure without more examples, but you may have a point. Some folks seem to believe that every word of the Bible (i.e. the version they're used to) was dictated by God in English. Others say the Great Outdoors is their church & derive their own spiritual inspiration in ways which make words unnecessary, although they may be reminded of a familiar hymn or a passage from Scripture. By my reckoning these groups have different preferred learning styles... and may handle such a task as writing about their perceptions quite differently. FWIW, I've had a few experiences with doggerel which came to mind all at once & which I had to write down immediately because otherwise it would be lost forever. I didn't feel I could take credit for the invention of this material... I was just the scribe. In most cases, though, I find that writing involves conscious effort on my part. And I can relate when Jesus suggests pondering the birds of the sky & the flowers of the field. :-)

    I find the terms "active" and "passive" somewhat confusing, in this context, because from a grammatical standpoint I see "inspired" as a verb when folks say "inspired by"... yet they're using the verb in the passive voice. I think when they say "inspired of" it may be their way of recognizing that Help from Above manifests itself both directly & indirectly. If I were on the roof of my house during a major flood praying for help I'd accept it from the first person who arrived in a kayak or a rowboat & offered it. But I've heard a lot of sad stories about others who wanted God to appear in a blaze of glory. ;-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Mon Jul 16 23:52:39 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    I would accept "He didn't say who that high authority was".
    I'm not sure how to account for my own discomfort about
    leaving out the indirect object with "(to) tell" in this
    context, though, because we do it in other cases. :-(

    I see. The indirect object is a holy cow when we use "to
    tell". ;-)


    Is it?? I don't recall any grade three rules to that effect. :-)



    As we say in Russia -- a habit is the second nature. ;)


    In Canada we'd leave out "the"... but books & movies often include stock phrases such as "dead men tell no tales" and "do you swear to tell the whole truth, the perfect truth, and nothing but the truth?" If they come to mind first that may have to do with the frequency of use & with the buildup. Under ordinary circumstances we tend to specify the indirect object.... :-)



    I know that American and British versions can be slightly
    different.

    Yes... and different editors may have different ideas,
    regardless of where they live or what audience the publisher
    hopes to attract.

    We probably can also say that the language has been changing
    towards simplification and unification.


    Uh-huh. I reckon it's been doing that for several hundred years at least, and I've noticed many changes within my own lifetime.



    I've now requested LAST LEAVES from the public library....

    Yes, I also could not find it on-line.


    Dallas found an "independently produced E-text" version at

    https://www.fadedpage.com/books/20140455/html.php

    which seems virtually identical to the hard copy from the public library, with one exception... it doesn't say it was printed in Vancouver, B.C. When I read "A Lecture on Walking" in its entirety I noticed from the first paragraph that it was inspired by wartime restrictions on the use of gasoline. In those days fewer books were printed back east & sent here, I guess, than we see now. :-)


    In short, the results of my research thus far are as follows:

    * Three editions of Leacock's essay, including the one Alexander
    referred to here, say "of the woods and hills".
    * The 1911 ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA, which Dallas found online &
    where the citation appears on page 301 of volume 23... exactly
    as Leacock specified... says "by the woods and hills".
    * Robertson Davies, who quoted from the same encyclopedia... but
    not necessarily the same edition thereof... said "by".

    I'm not sure what happened there, but the preface to LAST LEAVES says that the material originally appeared in various newspapers & magazines. I'm wondering whether Leacock mistyped the quotation when he saw a deadline looming. In any case he says "I cannot forbear to quote again from this high authority" on the page you highlighted. If you review what he said +/- two pages earlier you'll understand why he didn't go into detail about the source in your excerpt. ;-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Sat Jul 21 01:45:26 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton!
    I read your message from 16.07.2018 15:52

    I'm not sure what happened there, but the preface to LAST LEAVES
    says that the material originally appeared in various newspapers & magazines. I'm wondering whether Leacock mistyped the quotation
    when he saw a deadline looming. In any case he says "I cannot
    forbear to quote again from this high authority" on the page you highlighted. If you review what he said +/- two pages earlier
    you'll understand why he didn't go into detail about the source in
    your excerpt.

    So, the only authority he had cited earlier was _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ Although it is strange that in

    -----Beginning of the citation-----
    ....I cannot forbear to quote again from this high authority cited
    ahead, which thus expounds this aspect of a customary walk.
    ----- The end of the citation -----

    "ahead" means "as stated above".

    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Mon Jul 23 00:12:11 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    I'm wondering whether Leacock mistyped the quotation
    when he saw a deadline looming. In any case he says "I
    cannot forbear to quote again from this high authority"
    on the page you highlighted. If you review what he said
    +/- two pages earlier you'll understand why he didn't go
    into detail about the source in your excerpt.

    So, the only authority he had cited earlier was
    _Encyclopaedia Britannica_


    Yes, that's how I read it....



    Although it is strange that in

    -----Beginning of the citation-----
    ....I cannot forbear to quote again from this high
    authority cited ahead, which thus expounds this
    aspect of a customary walk.
    ----- The end of the citation -----

    "ahead" means "as stated above".


    In my experience it is unusual. I did a double take there & stopped just shy of quoting "cited ahead" (although it was included in the excerpt you highlighted) because I thought it would best be dealt with separately.

    According to my 1983 GAGE CANADIAN DICTIONARY & various others which Dallas found online, treating "ahead" as more or less synonymous with "before" is semantically correct... but I see why it may be confusing to those among us who came along after Leacock's time &/or who have never lived in Ontario. ;-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Tue Jul 24 23:26:22 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A lecture on
    walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written by Stephen Leacock.


    The thought occurs to me, BTW, that the title "LAST LEAVES" is a pun. This collection was published the year after Leacock's death... and in English the word "leaf" can be used to mean a single page of a book. If I stop there, the pun is recognizable as such. But I'd also like to add that metaphorically we say we're "taking a leaf from [So-and-So's] book" when we are doing just as another person would have done or we've adopted an idea from them.

    By the same token I am reminded of a short story by "O. Henry"... AKA William Sidney Porter... published in 1907 & entitled "The Last Leaf". During later years it was IIRC part of the high school English curriculum here in BC, from which I would guess it was known to many of Leacock's readers. The theme is similar in that the hero has reached the end of his life... maybe. I won't go into detail if you haven't read the story, but I think you'd enjoy it. :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Thu Jul 26 05:26:20 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton!
    I read your message from 24.07.2018 15:26

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A lecture on
    walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written by Stephen Leacock.

    The thought occurs to me, BTW, that the title "LAST LEAVES" is
    a pun. This collection was published the year after Leacock's death...
    and in English the word "leaf" can be used to mean a single page of a book. If I stop there, the pun is recognizable as such. But I'd also like to add that metaphorically we say we're "taking a leaf from [So-and-So's] book" when we are doing just as another person would have done or we've adopted an idea from them.

    Maybe LAST LEAVES was a collection of the last Leacock's stories published by somebody? Although he could feel that it were his last leaves.

    By the same token I am reminded of a short story by "O. Henry"... AKA William Sidney Porter... published in 1907 & entitled "The Last Leaf". During later years it was IIRC part of the high school English curriculum here in BC, from which I would guess it was known to many of Leacock's readers. The theme is similar in that the hero has reached the end of his life... maybe. I won't go into detail if you haven't read the story, but I think you'd enjoy it. :-)

    O. Henri is very well known writer in Russia, and of course I read his "The Last Leaf". A touching story, indeed.

    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Tue Jul 31 23:52:07 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A lecture on
    walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written by Stephen Leacock.

    The thought occurs to me, BTW, that the title "LAST LEAVES"
    is a pun. This collection was published the year after
    Leacock's death... and in English the word "leaf" can be
    used to mean a single page of a book. If I stop there,
    the pun is recognizable as such. But I'd also like to add
    that metaphorically we say we're "taking a leaf from
    [So-and-So's] book" when we are doing just as another
    person would have done or we've adopted an idea from them.

    Maybe LAST LEAVES was a collection of the last Leacock's
    stories


    I'd say "of the last of Leacock's stories" there. I doubt the author
    was "the last Leacock" because he had younger siblings & a son of his own. ;-)



    published by somebody? Although he could feel that
    it were his last leaves.


    According to the preface this collection was gathered together by his
    niece, Barbara Nimmo, who had lived with him for a year & done secretarial work
    for him. It would probably have included some of the last things he wrote, and
    I reckon whoever chose the title understood his sense of humour. I notice that
    in his "lecture" he complains about being forced to retire at sixty-five... yet
    he plays the role of Old Phart who knows things worth knowing to the hilt. :-)



    O. Henri


    Pun alert! "Henri" is the French spelling of "Henry". Over Here "OH
    HENRY!" is the name of a candy bar. Which came first? Since I've been reading
    up on Stephen Leacock I think it's somebody else's turn. :-Q



    is very well known writer in Russia,
    |a very well-known writer

    and of course I read his "The Last Leaf".


    Ah. It's not always easy for me to be sure who or what is well-known
    in SomePlace Else &/or which material is available in English. I was surprised
    to hear your copy of LAST LEAVES was published Over There because as a Canadian
    I'm still getting used to the idea that other folks realize there's intelligent
    life in the Land of Ice & Snow north of the 49th parallel. In many ways I find
    it less surprising that Russians would be familiar with the work of a USAian...
    but both authors predate the sort of clever merchandising we see nowadays. :-)



    A touching story, indeed.


    Yes. Another which I particularly enjoyed was "The Gift of the Magi"
    (1905). Judging by the number of spinoffs, I guess I'm not alone in that. :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Thu Aug 2 05:18:13 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton -> Alexander Koryagin!
    I read your message from 31.07.2018 15:52


    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    This quote was taken from the humorous story "A lecture on
    walking" (Last leaves, 1945), written by Stephen Leacock.

    The thought occurs to me, BTW, that the title "LAST LEAVES" is a
    pun. This collection was published the year after Leacock's
    death... and in English the word "leaf" can be used to mean a
    single page of a book. If I stop there, the pun is recognizable as
    such. But I'd also like to add that metaphorically we say
    we're "taking a leaf from [So-and-So's] book" when we are doing
    just as another person would have done or we've adopted an idea
    from them.

    Maybe LAST LEAVES was a collection of the last Leacock's stories

    I'd say "of the last of Leacock's stories" there. I doubt the
    author was "the last Leacock" because he had younger siblings & a
    son of his own.

    Or, may be in this way (to avoid two ofs)?:
    Maybe LAST LEAVES was a collection of Leacock's last stories, published by somebody?

    <skipped>
    O. Henri

    Pun alert! "Henri" is the French spelling of "Henry". Over Here "OH HENRY!" is the name of a candy bar. Which came first? Since I've
    been reading up on Stephen Leacock I think it's somebody else's
    turn.: - Q

    I read it here:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O._Henry
    But anyway wrote it wrong. ;-))

    is very well known writer in Russia,
    |a very well-known writer

    Meow!

    ...In many ways I
    find it less surprising that Russians would be familiar with the
    work of a USAian... but both authors predate the sort of clever merchandising we see nowadays.

    You mean that they became famous without great advertising campaigns?

    A touching story, indeed.

    Yes. Another which I particularly enjoyed was "The Gift of the
    Magi" (1905). Judging by the number of spinoffs, I guess I'm not
    alone in that.

    Not bad, and the end was quite funny and happy. Although, touching stories as a
    rule are not fun, but they wake inside us something human.

    When I was a boy I read a story about a lonely house, abandoned in the forest. The people left it many years ago and also left their dog. The dog probably remembered its happy days in the house and every night it returned to the desolated, dilapidated house... to wind the wall-mounted cuckoo clock. Maybe the ticking sound made the deserted dog feel better?

    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)
  • From Ardith Hinton@1:153/716 to alexander koryagin on Wed Aug 8 23:52:19 2018
    Hi, Alexander! Recently you wrote in a message to Ardith Hinton:

    I'd say "of the last of Leacock's stories" there. I
    doubt the author was "the last Leacock" because he had
    younger siblings & a son of his own.

    Or, may be in this way (to avoid two ofs)?:
    Maybe LAST LEAVES was a collection of Leacock's last
    stories, published by somebody?


    Yes, from a stylistic POV I think you've made a further improvement. As to when the stories were written... it appears this was the first time they had been gathered together in one volume, but my library copy doesn't say when they were originally published. I know of various authors who got their start by writing short pieces for newspapers & magazines, then expanded the material into a book. In this case what we're seeing may be material which was written toward the end of his life or which didn't fit into other collections.... :-)



    Pun alert! "Henri" is the French spelling of "Henry".
    Over Here "OH HENRY!" is the name of a candy bar.
    Which came first? Since I've been reading up on Stephen
    Leacock I think it's somebody else's turn. :-Q

    I read it here:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O._Henry
    But anyway wrote it wrong. ;-))


    Ah. Perhaps you were thinking of the bit where, when asked what the "O." stood for, he said "Olivier" & explained that it's the French spelling of "Oliver". In any case, I found the article a very interesting read & I gather we may never know for sure how or why he chose this particular pseudonym. ;-)



    In many ways I find it less surprising that Russians would
    be familiar with the work of a USAian... but both authors
    predate the sort of clever merchandising we see nowadays.

    You mean that they became famous without great advertising
    campaigns?


    By comparison, I think they probably did. News travels more quickly than it did 'way back when... and advertising is more sophisticated.



    A touching story, indeed.

    Yes. Another which I particularly enjoyed was "The Gift
    of the Magi" (1905). Judging by the number of spinoffs,
    I guess I'm not alone in that.

    Not bad, and the end was quite funny and happy. Although,
    touching stories as a rule are not fun, but they wake
    inside us something human.


    Yes. At the same time, they appeal to our emotions & make us think. IMHO it takes a skilled writer to pull that off. On an intellectual level I'm aware of the need for a willing suspension of disbelief, but I also understand why a friend of mine who happened to be an art student balked when she noticed "the marble chipped like plaster" in a film about Michelangelo. If the writer doesn't get his or her facts straight the moment may be lost where some people would be asking themselves how they'd have responded in such a situation. I'm able to accept what O. Henry says & to understand how his characters must have felt because his analysis jibes with what I've observed about the era.... :-)



    When I was a boy I read a story about a lonely house,
    abandoned in the forest. The people left it many years
    ago and also left their dog. The dog probably remembered
    its happy days in the house and every night it returned
    to the desolated, dilapidated house... to wind the wall-
    mounted cuckoo clock. Maybe the ticking sound made the
    deserted dog feel better?


    Maybe. It's not unreasonable to suppose a dog could learn to wind a cuckoo clock... all that's required is to pull the chains & nudge the pendulum if it has stopped moving because it collided with the weights. Not only would the sound of the clock be familiar in this case, but I've also heard that many people use a ticking clock to soothe a puppy which has been recently separated from the litter on the theory that it imitates the mother's heartbeat.... :-)




    --- timEd/386 1.10.y2k+
    * Origin: Wits' End, Vancouver CANADA (1:153/716)
  • From alexander koryagin@3:640/384 to Ardith Hinton on Fri Aug 10 19:07:26 2018
    Hi, Ardith Hinton!
    I read your message from 08.08.2018 15:52


    When I was a boy I read a story about a lonely house, abandoned in
    the forest. The people left it many years ago and also left their
    dog. The dog probably remembered its happy days in the house and
    every night it returned to the desolated, dilapidated house... to
    wind the wall-mounted cuckoo clock. Maybe the ticking sound made
    the deserted dog feel better?

    Maybe. It's not unreasonable to suppose a dog could learn to wind a
    cuckoo clock...

    Yes, the former master had probably trained the dog to do it, when they lived together.

    all that's required is to pull the chains & nudge
    the pendulum if it has stopped moving because it collided with the weights.

    The pendulam can be stirred by the winding chain.

    Not only would the sound of the clock be familiar in this
    case, but I've also heard that many people use a ticking clock to
    soothe a puppy which has been recently separated from the litter on
    the theory that it imitates the mother's heartbeat....

    Taking into account the low echo traffic, I post here an excerpt from that novel (in is a fairy tale, about two boys who had found the flying carpet, and they traveled to distant, desolated areas around their town). I hope the author and translator will forgive me.

    From "The Magic Carpet"
    By Vladislav Krapivin (Jan Yevtushenko translator)
    -----Beginning of the citation-----

    ...we spotted a forest lake encircled by strip of sandy beach nestling among the pines.
    We, of course, whooped with joy, skimmed over the sand and rolled off the
    carpet. The sand was warm, dry and mixed with brittle pine needles and little hedgehog-like cones but we did not mind that at all. The bottom of the lake was
    hard and flat and its dark clear water was lovely and warm.
    We had a dip, ate half of our supplies, dug ourselves into the sand and dozed for a while. Then we had another dip, ate a little more and swam again.
    "We ought to be leaving..." said Vitalka reluctantly.
    "Mmm," I replied. "Let's have just one more dip."
    At last we pulled our clothes onto our wet bodies and flew higher up so that the wind and sun should dry us quickly.
    "Look!" shouted Vitalka.
    Standing along in a large clearing not far from the lake was a house with
    nothing but trees all around.
    "Shall we check it out?" asked Vitalka.
    So we cautiously flew down very close to the dark humpbacked roof whose rotten planks were covered with velvety green moss.
    We could tell at once that nobody had lived there for a long time because
    untrampled long grass was growing all around its sagging porch.
    So far we had come across little forest mysteries, but this abandoned house presented us with a serious one.
    So how could we fly off without finding out about it?


    Chapter Ten

    Unlike an ordinary village hut, the house had big windows, ornamental railings round its porch and carved wooden doors. And as these doors were ajar,
    we carefully stepped inside.
    The entry was empty except for a brown butterfly sitting on a racked dry tub and as soon as we came in, it flew out through the sunny gap in the door. We walked into the kitchen and were confronted by the dark gaping oven of an old-fashioned stove whose upper part was inlaid with green tiles. Some unpainted wooden stools were scattered about in a corner. Sitting on the broad table was a little grey creature, which was gone in a flash through the broken window before we had time to identify it. And all that was left on the table were the shells of some seeds or other.
    We tiptoed round the two rooms, and the floor-boards sagged gently underfoot. Here and there the remnants of paint still on them glinted in the sunlight. The rooms contained a few pieces of furniture, such as a rusty bedstead, some shoddy chairs, and a book-case with broken glass panels standing
    about half a metre away from the wall as if someone had tried to carry it out of the house and then given up.
    I was just going to look behind the case when all of a sudden there was a
    loud rumbling sound outside. We both started. The rumbling sound came again, the windows grew darker and the golden spots on the cobweb in a corner vanished.
    We rushed out onto the porch. Rolling towards us from behind the trees came a dark-blue stormcloud, which had just swallowed up the sun. Only straight
    narrow rays were shining out over the shaggy ridge of cloud heading towards us fast.
    "The carpet!" I cried.
    We quickly rolled up our carpet and dragged it inside. And we were in the
    nick of time. Huge drops of rain began pelting the tops of the grass, the porch
    and the window-panels and then the rain began pouring down. It crashed against the roof and we felt as though we were inside a drum. Then came a pink flash and a bang so loud that we clapped our ears shut and huddled against a wall.
    "Now we're caught," whispered Vitalka.
    "Perhaps it'll stop soon?" I said not very confidently and sank even lower because there was another, even louder clap of thunder.
    It became chilly and draughty. Stinging splashes of rain were flying through the broken panes and the damp wind was forcing its way through the doors which we could not shut because they had sunk on their hinges and become wedged long ago. And, anyway, with such a storm raging outside it was rather frightening to tear yourself away from the wall and go over to the doors.
    The storm raged for a long time. In fact, it seemed as if a whole week had passed and not just one thunderstorm but all the thunderstorms in the world
    had brewed over the old house in order to drench, blind and deafen two little boys...
    At last the thunder claps grew quieter and the sound of the rain steadier.
    "It's moving away," said Vitalka with a sigh of relief.
    But he was wrong. The rain was now quiet and monotonous but it refused to
    stop.
    "What a nuisance!" said Vitalka despondently. "What if it goes on like this for several days?"
    It was fearful to contemplate. It would take us at least a week to get home on foot and, anyway, we did not even know the way. Poor Mum and poor Auntie Valya would be imagining the most terrible things! And poor us, of course! We'd get the worst punishment of our lives. And poor magic carpet - it was bound to be taken away from us...
    "But perhaps it won't go on for that long. It doesn't sound like the kind
    that drags on and on," said Vitalka more cheerfully. "Why worry about it now?"
    Not wishing to seem dejected, I remarked that we used to only dream of having adventures and now here we were actually having one.
    "After all, we were lucky to find the house," said Vitalka. "What would've happened if we'd been caught out in the wood?"
    Yes, indeed! The chilly old house seemed more friendly at once. I stared gratefully up at the peeling ceiling and listened to the rain pattering above it.
    "We can sleep here tonight," I suggested. "And still get home in time tomorrow, and we've got some bread left..."
    It was growing dark outside. Something was groaning and creaking in the corners. It was rather scary and we were chilled to the bone, but at least we were together and our flying-carpet was with us.
    We rolled it out along the wall opposite the book-case, lay down on one half and covered ourselves completely with the other. Then we huddled closely to one another in its soft warmth, and, although our feet were in a draught, on
    the whole, we were fine. And even the rain echoing through the empty house now sounded harmless and soothing.
    It was an interesting house. Who could have lived here? Foresters? Hunters? Geologists? Or just someone who enjoyed peace and quiet?
    And why and when did they leave? Who knew? Perhaps, a year ago or perhaps
    long before we were even born...
    Vitalka and I whispered about this for a while and then dropped off to sleep.

    I do not know why I woke up. Vitalka was breathing warmly on my cheek. The rain had stopped and ragged clouds were speeding over the black trees outside. Every now and then a bright moon bounced out from behind them like a little ball and lit up the room.
    There was a strange incomplete silence which was being disturbed by a loud ticking sound.
    I prodded Vitalka. He mumbled something, smacked his lips and woke up.
    "Listen!" I ordered.
    Tick-tock, tick-tock... It was coming from somewhere behind the book-case.
    "Raindrops? A cricket? No it's..."
    I became scared. I don't know why but I became really scared. And I think
    Vitalka did, too. But it was even more frightening lying there and not knowing whether it was someone's light footsteps or someone's heart beating...
    Vitalka slowly threw back the carpet and got up. And then I did too, shivering in the damp and chilly night air.
    Holding hands tightly, we tiptoed towards the book-case. The moon bounced
    out again and dutifully shone through the window. And as was to be expected in a spooky house the floorboards creaked.
    We glanced behind the book-case and saw another door leading into a third
    room which we had not noticed before.
    And it was from that room that the ticking was coming.
    Shoulders abreast, we squeezed through the door into a small room with one window, which was dark because the moon was shining on the other side. Vitalka switched on his torch and a yellow disc of light slipped across the wall and fell upon a wall clock.
    So that was what was ticking in the silence with its pendulum swinging regularly to and fro!
    We clutched onto each other. We couldn't have been more scared even if we
    had seen a ghost or a robber.
    Yes, the clock was working!
    The house had been abandoned long ago and was standing empty but the clock was ticking away in the same peaceful and ordinary way as the one in our kitchen at home!
    Who lived here? Whose invisible hand had pulled the clock's weight? Who had weighted it down with a large old-fashioned key? (We did the same at home with a pair of broken pliers. You often had to with old clocks).
    We probably would not have felt so terrified in the daylight, but this ticking clock in the abandoned house now seemed very eerie indeed. We quietly backed away from it, our shoulders still close together and our shoulder-blades
    pressed against the wall by the window. Vitalka went on lighting up the clock with his torch as if afraid that something dreadful might happen if he let it slip out of sight.
    "Perhaps someone came here before us today?" I asked in an anxious whisper. "And got it going?"
    Vitalka's shoulder twitched in annoyance - he obviously disagreed. After all, there were no footprints anywhere in the house or in the grass by the porch.
    "Then perhaps..." I began again, not knowing what I was going to say...
    Vitalka nudged me with his elbow.
    Besides the ticking sound there was also a light patter on the floorboards as if someone was coming towards our room. Quietly but confidently.
    Vitalka switched off his torch and we held our breath and squatted down.
    Although my eyes had still not get used to the semi-darkness, I already made out the gap of the open door, the window ledges, the white clock-face, the
    large cracks in the dull grey wall and then suddenly the outline of the newcomer against it.
    It was a wild animal.
    It came into the room tapping across the floor with its claws and stopped
    warily.
    Vitalka flicked on his torch, whether on purpose or from fright I do not know and the light wavered about the room and then fell on the animal.
    It was a dog. A large ginger dog with long ears! It shook its head and blinked in the light but did not jump back, snarl or bark and then it came up silently and poked its wet nose into my knees.
    It was such a pleasant surprise that my fear vanished instantly and I at once felt sure it was a kind dog and that it was pleased to see us. And no longer in the least scared, I hugged its neck, tousled its long ears and, delighted by the happy end to our terrifying adventure, said to it, "What a fright you gave us, doggie, nice dog you."
    The dog wagged its tail so hard that we felt a breeze about our legs.
    Vitalka asked, "Who are you? Where's your master?"
    But it went on wagging its tail, poking its nose into my arm-pit and pressing its shaggy side against me.
    Yes, where indeed was its master? He would most likely show up any moment. What would he be like? What if he wasn't as friendly as his dog?
    A short loud thud made us start, but it was only the clock's weight which
    had jerked down several centimetres and was now swinging to and fro with the heavy key just above the floor.
    But the dog lifted its head from my arm-pit, pricked its ears and then did something that took our breath away.
    It went up to the clock, stood on its hind legs with its front ones propped up against the wall, grabbed the chain between its teeth, and sent the weight and key whirring upwards. Then it jumped down, waved its tail and glanced at us.
    "Why, you clever dog!" I said.
    "It hasn't got a master," Vitalka said with relief. "They've all gone away and left it all on its own. That's who winds up the clock."
    "But why?"
    "Who knows? Perhaps it's used to a clock ticking in the house. It's waiting for people to come back and reckons the clock's something very important. Maybe it used to wind it up when there were people about and doesn't
    want to stop going so now..."
    I felt sorry for the dog and wanted to do something nice for it, to help it in some way.
    "Come here, dog," I called. "Have you been ditched?"
    It came up again and put its head on my knees. Some fur and tiny feathers
    were sticking round its mouth.
    "It's just wolfed something up," said Vitalka.
    I hated to think that such a lovely dog could eat another animal, but Vitalka went on, "Of course, it has. What else can it do? Since it's been abandoned, it's got to feed itself, so it goes out hunting."
    Fancy abandoning a dog like this! What sort of people were they?!
    "Fancy abandoning a dog!" I said indignantly. "It's probably been living here alone for years waiting..."
    "How do we know what happened?" Vitalka argued reasonably, "Perhaps it was nobody's fault..."
    But I did not want to think it was nobody's fault. How could it be? The dog had been abandoned and was now living all on its own and endlessly waiting.
    And it wound the clock up so that the house did not feel completely dead. It was taking care of the house for the people who had forgotten about it. So how come it was nobody's fault?
    "Look how thin it is," whispered Vitalka, stroking the dog's back.
    We fed it almost all our supplies which it gulped down greedily, glancing
    guiltily at us as if apologising for not using more restraint.
    Then we dragged the carpet into the small room, which now seemed cosier than the others. The clock was ticking away just like the one at home and the master of the house was walking about with us, so all our fears vanished.
    We wrapped ourselves up in the carpet and the dog lay down at our feet and started breathing evenly.
    "Good dog," I said in a loud whisper.
    The dog wagged its tail in reply.
    "It's happy people have come," said Vitalka.
    "Shall we take it with us tomorrow?" I asked.
    "Of course."
    We talked a little more about the dog, the old house, the people who had once lived here, and made guesses as to why they had left without taking the dog with them and who it was waiting for. Later on we often made up all sorts of stories about this, but we never found out the truth.

    I was awoken by the hot sun beating down on the rain-washed window-panes and ricocheting into the room. Golden dots were blazing on Vitalka's eyelashes.
    He blinked, smiled, threw back the carpet and sat up. I at once felt chilly and
    sat up, too, hugging my shoulders.
    According to the clock ticking away, it was half-past five but we had no idea, of course, if it was keeping time. The dog was still asleep at our feet. Its ginger coat was matted and dirty brown in parts and its ribs were sticking through it.
    "It must be awful hungry," Vitalka said pityingly.
    The dog opened its eyes and looked at us. It had a sad, kind and very intelligent face.
    "Do you want to come with us, dog?" asked Vitalka. "Don't worry, Auntie Valya won't boot you out."
    The dog got to its feet slowly and wagged its tail.
    "It's saying yes!" exclaimed Vitalka, overjoyed. "Let's go!"
    We carried the carpet outside with the dog at our heels. Still damp, the high grass entwined our legs with what seemed like cold fingers. We rolled the carpet out on the porch's dry boards so that it did not get wet, and sat down on it.
    "Come here, dog," I called.
    It obediently sat down beside us and I put my arms round its neck.
    We flew up very slowly and smoothly so as not to frighten the dog and it sat very still, looking down, but did not take fright. However, after we had flown about a hundred yards, it started getting restless, freed its head from my arm, turned round and glanced anxiously at me and Vitalka in turn.
    "Don't be scared," I said tenderly.
    But the dog wasn't scared: it was asking to go back. It crept to the very
    edge of the carpet, whined and barked softly.
    "It doesn't want to leave," said Vitalka.
    "We can't leave it all on its own!" I said angrily.
    "That's its home. What can we do if it doesn't want to leave it? It'll come back here even if we take it away."
    I realised this myself. It was such a pity to leave the dog behind but what else could we do? So we landed near the house, and the dog jumped off the carpet and looked round as if inviting us to go with it.
    "We can't," said Vitalka. "You can't leave and we can't stay. Do you understand?
    The dog looked sad: it understood.
    "We'll come and visit you," I promised.

    ----- The end of the citation -----


    Bye, Ardith!
    Alexander Koryagin
    ENGLISH_TUTOR 2018

    --- Paul's Win98SE VirtualBox
    * Origin: Quinn's Post - Maryborough, Queensland, OZ (3:640/384)