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Author Message
25 new of 207 responses total.
davel
response 126 of 207: Mark Unseen   Nov 18 02:07 UTC 1998

The part most recently quoted is America, specifically Washington (state),
sometime around 1915 or a bit after.  The earlier quote (at the dance) would
be a bit before 1925.  The book was published in 1977.  The author's other
books I'm aware of (by title only) are (if I recall) all on words, word games,
word puzzles, etc., and published within a few years of 1980.  As for the
author's birth date, I'm taking for granted that he's being truthful in
his account of his early life ... from which I'll quote:

         I entered this sad world at 6.05 A.M. on the eleventh day of
    December in the year of our Lord 1910.  My birthplace was my parents'
    bedroom in a small frame cottage (since destroyed) in downtown
    Olympia, capital of the state of Washington.  The family had arrived
    there while I was still humuncular; my father, a native of the
    sparsely settled southwestern corner of the state, was the choice of
    the citizens of Pacific and Wahkiakum counties to represent them as
    state senator, at a stipend, I believe, of five dollars a day.
         The --- family never amounted to much, but always to something;
    at least we knew who we were.  Mr. --- had our sort in mind when he
    wrote

        I belong to that highly respectable tribe
        Which is known as the Shabby Genteel
        Too proud to beg, too honest to steal.

         The exact instant of my birth is on record because my brother
    Edwin, then not quite two, the previous evening had stuffed into
    himself his first wedge of angel-food cake.  He then had begged his
    way into my parents' bed on a plea of bellyache.  At 5.03 A.M. he was
    removed, objecting loudly, to make room for me.  One hour and two
    minutes later, objecting just as loudly, I arrived to replace him.
         I was an ethereal-appearing infant, with violet-colored eyes of
    the giant economy size, set off by long dark lashes; I looked through
    rather than at my surroundings.  "That one," said the hired girl, "is
    not long for this world."  Mama marked the words, and on the erroneous
    assumption that I had been delivered in a crate marked "fragile--right
    side up with care," gave me special handling.
         In 1913, legislative service being a luxury my father could no
    longer afford, we returned home to the isolated settlement of
    Oysterville, where Papa owned a thousand acres of empty oysterbeds and
    another thousand or so of tide meadows and marshland.  On these latter
    he ran stock and raised hay and vegetables.  Oysterville was and is
    located on Shoalwater Bay (now called Willapa Harbor), near the point
    of a narrow, tree-covered sandspit thirty miles long, springing from
    the mouth of the Columbia River.  The village, founded in 1854,
    prospered for half a century on the tasty oysters that crowded the
    banks of the bay channel.  But the oysters died out, and by the time
    my memory begins there could not have been more than a dozen families
    still in the neighborhood, cultivating truck gardens and milking
    cows.

(Again, in this case it should not be necessary to recognize the author,
much less the work.  Try identifying the author of the *included* quotes,
Uncle Allie under his _nom_de_plume_ of Mr. ---.  (Another sample is
present in this extract.)  That plus a search engine should quickly lead you
to the title of the present work.  (About a third of the book is devoted
to a selection from the works of this most prolific author, BTW, as
an appendix.))
davel
response 127 of 207: Mark Unseen   Nov 28 17:03 UTC 1998

Hmm.  Off for a week, and no one has guesses, ponderings, etc.  Let's try
another quote from early in the book.

         When my fourth birthday approached, I deliberately selected a
    poem by Mr. --- to remind my family of the impending anniversary.  I
    recited the verse as we were chatting around the dinner table after
    dessert--and this time no one laughed:

         My birthday is coming tomorrow,
         And then I'm going to be four;
         And I'm getting so big that already
         I can open the kitchen door;
         I'm very much taller than Baby,
         Though today I am still only three;
         And I'm bigger than Bob-tail the puppy,
         Who used to be bigger than me.

         Scarcely a high point in literary annals, one would think; but
    the recitation aroused as much fluttering and squawking at that table
    as if a fox had slipped into a chicken coop.
         "Who taught you that, Willard?" asked Mama.  "I know _I_ didn't."
         "And _I_ didn't," added Medora.
         "Nobody taught me," I said.  "I read it in a book."
         Everyone at the table began to babble (except for Dale, who was
    still working on her custard dessert, and my father, who looked at me
    with a little smile lurking between his moustache and his goatee).
    "Are you pretending you can really read?" . . . "I don't believe" . . .
    "But when" . . . "Prove it!"
         "I will," I said grandly.  Pushing back my chair, I marched off
    for the evidence, and returned with a book.  "Here is another one of
    Mr. ---'s verses.  And you, Medora"--here I stuck out my tongue--"and
    you, Suzita"--here I stuck out my tongue again--"won't understand it
    at all."
         "Be polite to your sisters, Willard," said Papa.  When Papa
    spoke, I obeyed.  "I'm sorry," I said; "I was only teasing."  I read
    aloud:

         I might not, if I could:
           I should not, if I might;
         Yet if I should I would,
           And, shoulding, I should quite!

         I must not, yet I may;
           I can, and still I must;
         But ah! I cannot--nay,
           To must I may not, just!

         I shall, although I will,
           But be it understood,
         If I may, can, shall--still,
           I might, could, would, or should!

         If my earlier recitation brought on a babble, this one produced a
    stunned silence.  The fact that I could really read had been accepted
    and dismissed; the new question was--and several moments passed before
    Mama put it--_what_had_I_just_read?_

(This selection took place long before Uncle Allie's appearance on the
scene, not to mention the revelation of his identity as Mr. ---, the
author of the included verses.  (Again, recall that Mr. ---'s name is
part of the title of this work.  Note that the passage also includes
a clue to the identity of the author of the book being quoted.))
polygon
response 128 of 207: Mark Unseen   Nov 30 18:19 UTC 1998

Oh!!!  Willard Espy.
davel
response 129 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 1 02:24 UTC 1998

You've got it, Larry.  The work is _The_Life_and_Works_of_Mr._Anonymous_.
It purports to be (and, I think, *is*) a somewhat fictionalized autobiography.
The fiction is that his uncle Alfred (who (truly) disappeared in the Klondike
in 1879) returns, and proves to be the (current) Anonymous, author of all
works published under that name, and (ultimately) designates Espy as the
next in that line.  Mr. Anonymous, accompanied by his dog Author Unknown,
gets together (offstage, unfortunately) on occasion with his cronies Idem,
Ibid., and Trad.

The last third of the book is a selection from the works of this most
prolific author.  I'll close with one of them as a parting shot:

    Somebody said that it couldn't be done--
    But he, with a grin, replied
    He'd never be one to sayi it couldn't be done--
    Leastways, not till he tried.

    So he buckled right in, with a trace of a grin;
    By golly, he went right to it.
    He tackled The Thing That Couldn't Be Done!
    And he couldn't do it.

Espy's other works are things like _An_Almanac_of_Words_at_Play_, books
on word games, etc.  I haven't managed to track any of them down yet,
but hope to eventually.

polygon is up whenever he gets ready.
polygon
response 130 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 1 12:45 UTC 1998

Here's something a little different.  Proper names have been changed to
initials.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I have intended for some time to write and explain to you the arrangement
I have made for my future residence, and respecting my private affairs
with a view to my comfort, so far as I may expect it, but it has been
painful to me to execute it. 

My ill state of health continuing, consisting of a cough, which annoys me
by night and day with considerable expectoration, considering my advanced
years, although my lungs are not affected, renders the restoration of my
health very uncertain, or indeed any favorable change in it.  In such a
state I could not reside on my farm.  The solitude would be very
distressing, and its cares very burdensome.  It is the wish of both of my
daughters, and of the whole connection, that I should remain here and
receive their good offices, which I have decided to do.  I do not wish to
burden them.  It is my intention to rent a house near Mr. G., and to live
within my own resources so far as I may be able.  I could make no
establishment of any kind without the sale of my property in L., which I
have advertised for the 8th of June, and given the necessary power to Mr.
G. and my nephew J.  If my health will permit, I will visit it in the
interim and arrange affairs there for that event and my removal here. The
accounting officers have made no decision on my claims, and have given me
much trouble.  I have written them that I would make out no account
adapted to the act, which fell far short of making me a just reparation,
and that I would rather lose the whole sum than give to it my sanction, be
the consequences what they may.  I never recovered from the losses of the
first mission, to which those of the second added considerably. 

It is very distressing to me to sell my property in L., for, besides
parting with all I have in the State, I indulged a hope, if I could retain
it, that I might be able occasionally to visit it, and meet my friends, or
many of them, there.  But ill health and advanced years prescribe a course
which we must pursue.  I deeply regret that there is no prospect of our
ever meeting again, since so long have we been connected, and in the most
friendly intercourse, in public and private life, that a final separation
is among the most distressing incidents which could occur.  I shall resign
my seat as a visitor at the Board in due time to enable the Executive to
fill the vacancy, that my successor may attend the next meeting.  I beg
you to assure Mrs. M. that I never can forget the friendly relation which
has existed between her and my family.  It often reminds me of incidents
of the most interesting character.  My daughter, Mrs. H., will live with
me, who with the whole family here, unite in affectionate regards to both
of you.

                              Very sincerely, your friend,
sjones
response 131 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 1 14:54 UTC 1998

something nineteenth century?
polygon
response 132 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 1 16:48 UTC 1998

Yes, #130 was written in the nineteenth century.
remmers
response 133 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 01:43 UTC 1998

Trollope?
md
response 134 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 01:44 UTC 1998

Sounds like Jefferson or Franklin or one of those guys, but I
wonder where this "L" place could be.
polygon
response 135 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 02:56 UTC 1998

Not Trollope, not Jefferson, not Franklin, but like all of those, a
dead white male.
davel
response 136 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 02:56 UTC 1998

"London"?  That was my guess for the L-word, anyway.
I have no idea whom it might be, though.
davel
response 137 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 02:57 UTC 1998

Larry slipped in.  I was responding to #134.
polygon
response 138 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 03:00 UTC 1998

The L. place is not London.
davel
response 139 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 12:44 UTC 1998

I'll make a truly wild guess, almost guaranteed to be wrong.  Wilkie Collins.
remmers
response 140 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 13:01 UTC 1998

It's not clear whether the quote is from a work of fiction or
non-fiction (e.g. a collection of somebody's letters). But I'm not
asking Larry to tell us.

<remmers continues to ponder>
polygon
response 141 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 17:18 UTC 1998

Re 139.  It is not Wilkie Collins.

Re 140.  I realize that there is some ambiguity there.  You didn't ask,
but I'll tell: this letter was not written for publication.  The writer
died twelve weeks later.

Later today, I will post an additional quote from the same writer which
*was* written for publication.
mdw
response 142 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 19:14 UTC 1998

Louisiana?
polygon
response 143 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 2 20:35 UTC 1998

The L. place is not Louisiana.
mcnally
response 144 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 05:49 UTC 1998

  Lesotho?  :-)
md
response 145 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 12:03 UTC 1998

Lumbago?  (Or whatever Albert Schweitzer's place was called?)
md
response 146 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 12:16 UTC 1998

[But that would make it 20th century.  Never mind.]
polygon
response 147 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 13:06 UTC 1998

The L. place is neither Lesotho nor Lumbago.  I'm sorry to say that it
is more obscure than that, and that the letter references it in a
somewhat eccentric way (a second word which would normally accompany
it is omitted).
polygon
response 148 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 20:22 UTC 1998

Here's another excerpt:

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The advantage of a first meridian is known even to those who know least of
the science on which it depends.  To doubt it would be to doubt the
advantage of Longitude which regulates every movement on the ocean, and
the divisions and subdivisions; in short the correct measurement of every
part of our globe.  All nations have agreed in the propriety of establishing
a first meridian.  Every Mariner at Sea, from the time he leaves port,
begins to calculate his distance by reference to some fixed meridian, and
every astronomical observer on land, in making his calculations obeys the
same rule.

Scientific men agree that it would be of advantage to science, if all
nations would adopt the same first meridian and before the discovery of
the new world, this was the case.  It appears that the antient Geographers
had adapted for their first meridian a line passing through the most
distant of the Fortunate or Canary Islands, because it was the most
western land then known.  It appears also, that the changes which the
antients made in their first meridians, of which there were several, were
made in consequence of the discovery of the neighboring Islands, which
were still more to the westward, and on the principle of passing it
through the most western point with which they were acquainted. 

But after the discovery of America which banished the idea of the most
western limit, that of a general meridian gradually lost ground; and
latterly it has been completely abandoned.  The great maritime and
commercial nations of Europe have respectively established first meridians
of their own: England, hers at Greenwich; France, hers at the observatory
Paris; and several other nations at some fixed point within their
respective limits since the period alluded to, the establishment of a
first meridian, -- for themselves, has become by the usage of nations, an
appendage, if not an attribute of sovereignty.

The United States have considered the regulation of their coin, and of
their weights and measures, attributes of sovereignty.  The first has been
regulated by law, and the second has occasionally engaged their attention.
The establishment of a first meridian appears, in a like view, to be not
less deserving of it, at least until by common consent, some particular
meridian should be made a standard.

In admitting the propriety of establishing a first meridian within the
United States, it follows that it ought to be done with the *greatest*
mathematical precision.  It is known that the best mode yet discovered for
establishing the meridian of a place is by observations made on the
heavenly bodies; and that to produce the greatest accuracy in the result,
such observations should be often repeated at suitable opportunities,
through a series of years by means of the best instruments.  For this
purpose an observatory would be of essential utility.  It is only in such
an institution, to be founded by the public, that all the necessary
implements are likely to be collected together; that systematic
observations can be made for any great length of time and that the public
cn be made secure of the result of the labors of scientific men.  In favor
of such an institution, it is sufficient to remark, that every nation
which has established a first meridian within its own limits, has
established also an observatory.  We know there is one at Greenwich, at
Paris, Cadiz, and elsewhere.
polygon
response 149 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 20:37 UTC 1998

The story so far: I have posted quotes at 130 (a private letter written in
the 19th century, 12 weeks prior to the writer's death) and 148.

The writer is acknowledged to be a dead white male.

Incorrect guesses: Trollope, Jefferson, Franklin, and Wilkie Collins.
mjb
response 150 of 207: Mark Unseen   Dec 3 22:23 UTC 1998

Martin Van Buren?
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