Books published by publisher Rectory Print

The manuscript of which the contents are printed here was discovered among the effects of the late L. Horace Holly, though not until some years after his death. It was in an envelope on which had been scribbled a direction that it should be forwarded to the present editor “at the appointed time,” words that at first he did not understand. However, in due course it arrived without any accompanying note of explanation, so that to this hour he does not know by whom it was sent or where from, since the only postmark on the packet was London, W., and the address was typewritten.When opened the package proved to contain two thick notebooks, bound in parchment, or rather scraped goat or sheepskin, and very roughly as though by an unskilled hand, perhaps in order to preserve them if exposed to hard usage or weather. The paper of these books is extremely thin and tough so that each of them contains a great number of sheets. It is not of European make, and its appearance suggests that it was manufactured in the East, perhaps in China.There could be no doubt as to who had owned these notebooks, because on one of them, the first, written in red ink upon the parchment cover in block letters, appears the name of Mr. Holly himself. Also on its first pages are various memoranda of travel evidently made by him and no one else. After these follow sheet upon sheet of apparently indecipherable shorthand mixed up with tiny Arabic characters. This shorthand proved to belong to no known system, and although every effort was made to decipher it, for over two years it remained unread.At length, when all attempts had been abandoned, almost by chance, it was shown to a great Oriental scholar, a friend of the Editor, who glanced at it and took it to bed with him. Next morning at breakfast he announced calmly that he had discovered the key and could read the stuff as easily as though it were a newspaper leader. It seemed that the writing was an ancient form of contracted Arabic, mixed in places with the Demotic of the Egyptians—a shorthand Arabic and a shorthand Demotic, difficult at first, but once the key was found easily decipherable by some six or eight living men, of whom, as it chanced, the learned scholar into whose hands it had thus fallen accidentally was one.So it came about that with toil and cost and time, at length those two closely written volumes were transcribed in full and translated. For the rest, they speak for themselves. Let the reader judge of them.There is but one thing to add. Although it is recorded in notebooks that had been his property, clearly this manuscript was not written by Mr. Holly. For reasons which she explains it was written with the hand of She herself, during the period of her second incarnation when at last Leo found her in the mountains of Thibet, as is described in the book called “Ayesha.”

I have been to the south of France, for the grape harvest, with two Anglo-Irish Victorian lady writers, and I loved it.Œnone Somerville and her cousin "Martin Ross" (actually Violet Martin - of Ross House) wrote novels, short stories and travelogues together as "Somerville and Ross". I remember an adaptation of 'The Experiences of an Irish R. M.' being very popular when I was a child, I've noted that Virago reissued 'Through Connemara in a Duchess Cart', I remember seeing 'The Real Charlotte in some very good company on a list of forgotten classics, and I know that Lisa rates them very highly.But that's about all I know. Except that they share a biographer with Margaret Kennedy, and that has to be another positive thing.I'll find out more one day, and I'm sure there's a great deal of interest to be learned, but for now I just want to enjoy their excellent company.Early in their writing career the cousins were commissioned by a weekly publication -The Lady's Pictorial" - to travel to the vineyards of the Médoc," to write a series of articles about their experiences. Some time later, those articles were collected and published as 'In the Vine Country.'There is much to be enjoyed here: accounts of travel by train and by boat; observations of people, places and so many things that the ladies see long the way; time spent at vineyards, where they saw the harvest and the treading of the grapes; visits to chateaux, where they were most impressed by the great barrels that lay maturing.Along the way they sketched, and they were very proud of their Kodak wherever they went. The sketches illustrate and illuminate the text; what happened to the photographs I don't know. Well I know that some were lost when they forgot to remove the lens cap, and only realised when they believed it lost and went to put something else in its place to protect the delicate lens.There are lots of things like that; the kind of little things you would remember from a holiday. And this is a book that feels rather like hearing about somebody's holiday. One of the lovely things is that the teller knows exactly how much to tell; enough to keep things interesting but not so much as to lose the attention of a listener without a particular interest in what is being said.(I have to say 'the teller' because there is no indication of who the first person narrator is, or of whether it the pair took turns. Maybe I'll find out, because I shall definitely be reading more of their work, and more about them.)That the tale of this adventure was so very well and so very engagingly told speaks volumes for Somerville and Ross's careful observation and genuine interest. It can't have been usual for two 19th century ladies to travel to the continent unescorted, but they managed things nicely, smoothing their path with acceptance and understanding, and with good humour laced with a lovely sense of the ironic.That reminds me to say the the writing style made me think of the Provincial Lady. It was smoother and calmer though; as she might of written had she had all the time in the world to make such a trip herself.It was a lovely trip, and I hope to be spending more time with my two new friends.

My Dear Madam,—I have read, with due care and deep interest, your translation of Vladimir Korolenko’s book, entitled “The Blind Musician,” and I take great pleasure in being able to say that the story, although very simple both in form and substance, is conceived and elaborated with a masterly skill. It is ingenious in construction, artistic in execution, and full of imaginative vigor. The author shows a keen appreciation of what is charming and beautiful in Nature and a fine power of analysis. His ideas on the intellectual development and physical training of the blind are correct, and cannot[v] but deepen the interest of the reader in the various phases of the story. That some of his psychological observations, derived from the study of a limited number of cases, represent individual characteristics or idiosyncrasies which cannot be applied to all persons bereft of the visual sense, in no wise detracts from the value of the work....Sincerely yours,M. Anagnos.May this simple story, written from the heart, reach the heart of him who reads it!Aline Delano.