The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884Doyle, Arthur Conan
General
The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Epistolary fiction
discovered the important fact that these lines of tubing, if followed
out, invariably led to large hollow metallic reservoirs which were
connected with furnaces. No one who knew how addicted the ancient
Britons were to the use of tobacco could doubt what this meant.
Evidently large quantities of the herb were burned in the central
chamber, and the aromatic and narcotic vapour was carried through the
tubes to the house of every citizen, so that he might inhale it at will.
Having illustrated his remarks by a series of diagrams, the lecturer
concluded by saying that, although true science was invariably cautious
and undogmatic, it was none the less an incontestable fact that so
much light had been thrown upon old London, that every action of the
citizens’ daily life was known, from the taking of a tub in the morning,
until after a draught of porter he painted himself blue before retiring
to rest.”
After all, I daresay this explanation of the London gas pipes is not
more absurd than some of our shots about the Pyramids, or ideas of life
among the Babylonians.
Well, good-bye, old chap; this is a stupid inconsequential letter, but
life has been more quiet and less interesting just of late. I may have
something a little more moving for my next.
IX. THE PARADE, BRADFIELD, 23rd April, 1882.
I have some recollection, my dear Bertie, that when I wrote you a
rambling disconnected sort of letter about three weeks ago, I wound up
by saying that I might have something more interesting to tell you next
time. Well, so it has turned out! The whole game is up here, and I am
off upon a fresh line of rails altogether. Cullingworth is to go one
way and I another; and yet I am glad to say that there has not been any
quarrel between us. As usual, I have begun my letter at the end, but
I’ll work up to it more deliberately now, and let you know exactly how
it came about.
And first of all, a thousand thanks for your two long letters, which lie
before me as I write. There is little enough personal news in them, but
I can quite understand that the quiet happy routine of your life reels
off very smoothly from week to week. On the other hand, you give me
plenty of proof of that inner life which is to me so very much more
interesting. After all, we may very well agree to differ. You think
some things are proved which I don’t believe in. You think some things
edifying which do not appear to me to be so. Well, I know that you are
perfectly honest in your belief. I am sure you give me credit for being
the same. The future wilt decide which of us is right. The survival of
the truest is a constant law, I fancy, though it must be acknowledged
that it is very slow in action.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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