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Page 29
Samuel Johnson once rolled into a London bookseller's shop to ask
for literary employment. The bookseller scrutinized his burly
frame, enormous hands, coarse face, and humble apparel.
``You would make a better porter,'' said he.
This was too much for the young lexicographer's patience. He
picked up a folio and incontinently let fly at the bookseller's
head, and then stepping over the prostrate victim he made his
exit, saying: ``Lie there, thou lump of lead!''
This bookseller was Osborne, who had a shop at Gray's Inn Gate.
To Boswell Johnson subsequently explained: ``Sir, he was
impertinent to me, and I beat him.''
Jacob Tonson was Dryden's bookseller; in the earlier times a
seller was also a publisher of books. Dryden was not always on
amiable terms with Tonson, presumably because Dryden invariably
was in debt to Tonson. On one occasion Dryden asked for an
advance of money, but Tonson refused upon the grounds that the
poet's overdraft already exceeded the limits of reasonableness.
Thereupon Dryden penned the following lines and sent them to
Tonson with the message that he who wrote these lines could write
more:
With leering looks, bull-faced and freckled fair
With two left legs, with Judas-colored hair,
And frowzy pores that taint the ambient air.
These lines wrought the desired effect: Tonson sent the money
which Dryden had asked for. When Dryden died Tonson made
overtures to Pope, but the latter soon went over to Tonson's most
formidable rival, Bernard Lintot. On one occasion Pope happened
to be writing to both publishers, and by a curious blunder he
inclosed to each the letter intended for the other. In the
letter meant for Tonson, he said that Lintot was a scoundrel, and
in the letter meant for Lintot he declared that Tonson was an old
rascal. We can fancy how little satisfaction Messrs. Lintot and
Tonson derived from the perusal of these missent epistles.
Andrew Millar was the publisher who had practical charge of the
production of Johnson's dictionary. It seems that Johnson drew
out his stipulated honorarium of eight thousand dollars (to be
more exact, L1575) before the dictionary went to press; this is
not surprising, for the work of preparation consumed eight years,
instead of three, as Johnson had calculated. Johnson inquired of
the messenger what Millar said when he received the last batch of
copy. The messenger answered: ``He said `Thank God I have done
with him.' '' This made Johnson smile. ``I am glad,'' said he,
quietly, ``that he thanks God for anything.''
I was not done with my discourse when a book was brought in from
Judge Methuen; the interruption was a pleasant one. ``I was too
busy last evening,'' writes the judge, ``to bring you this volume
which I picked up in a La Salle street stall yesterday. I know
your love for the scallawag Villon, so I am sure you will fancy
the lines which, evidently, the former owner of this book has
scribbled upon the fly-leaf.'' Fancy them? Indeed I do; and if
you dote on the ``scallawag'' as I dote on him you also will
declare that our anonymous poet has not wrought ill.
FRANCOIS VILLON
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I,
What would it matter to me how the time might drag or fly?
HE would in sweaty anguish toil the days and nights away,
And still not keep the prowling, growling, howling wolf at bay!
But, with my valiant bottle and my frouzy brevet-bride,
And my score of loyal cut-throats standing guard for me outside,
What worry of the morrow would provoke a casual sigh
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I?
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I,
To yonder gloomy boulevard at midnight I would hie;
``Stop, stranger! and deliver your possessions, ere you feel
The mettle of my bludgeon or the temper of my steel!''
He should give me gold and diamonds, his snuff-box and his cane--
``Now back, my boon companions, to our bordel with our gain!''
And, back within that brothel, how the bottles they would fly,
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I!
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