Derrick Vaughan: Novelist

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book Derrick Vaughan: Novelist by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly), Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly) ISBN: 9781465625649
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
ISBN: 9781465625649
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English

To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown together since we were both in the nursery. But I have an odd sort of wish to note down roughly just a few of my recollections of him, and to show how his fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps stimulated to make the attempt by certain irritating remarks which one overhears now often enough at clubs or in drawing-rooms, or indeed wherever one goes. “Derrick Vaughan,” say these authorities of the world of small-talk, with that delightful air of omniscience which invariably characterises them, “why, he simply leapt into fame. He is one of the favourites of fortune. Like Byron, he woke one morning and found himself famous.” Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth, and I—Sydney Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law—desire, while the past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a true version of my friend’s career. Everyone knows his face. Has it not appeared in ‘Noted Men,’ and—gradually deteriorating according to the price of the paper and the quality of the engraving—in many another illustrated journal? Yet somehow these works of art don’t satisfy me, and, as I write, I see before me something very different from the latest photograph by Messrs. Paul and Reynard. I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle heavy-looking when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with a complexion neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and with light hazel eyes that look out on the world quietly enough. You might talk to him for long in an ordinary way and never suspect that he was a genius; but when you have him to yourself, when some consciousness of sympathy rouses him, he all at once becomes a different being. His quiet eyes kindle, his face becomes full of life—you wonder that you ever thought it heavy or commonplace. Then the world interrupts in some way, and, just as a hermit-crab draws down its shell with a comically rapid movement, so Derrick suddenly retires into himself.

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

To attempt a formal biography of Derrick Vaughan would be out of the question, even though he and I have been more or less thrown together since we were both in the nursery. But I have an odd sort of wish to note down roughly just a few of my recollections of him, and to show how his fortunes gradually developed, being perhaps stimulated to make the attempt by certain irritating remarks which one overhears now often enough at clubs or in drawing-rooms, or indeed wherever one goes. “Derrick Vaughan,” say these authorities of the world of small-talk, with that delightful air of omniscience which invariably characterises them, “why, he simply leapt into fame. He is one of the favourites of fortune. Like Byron, he woke one morning and found himself famous.” Now this sounds well enough, but it is a long way from the truth, and I—Sydney Wharncliffe, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law—desire, while the past few years are fresh in my mind, to write a true version of my friend’s career. Everyone knows his face. Has it not appeared in ‘Noted Men,’ and—gradually deteriorating according to the price of the paper and the quality of the engraving—in many another illustrated journal? Yet somehow these works of art don’t satisfy me, and, as I write, I see before me something very different from the latest photograph by Messrs. Paul and Reynard. I see a large-featured, broad-browed English face, a trifle heavy-looking when in repose, yet a thorough, honest, manly face, with a complexion neither dark nor fair, with brown hair and moustache, and with light hazel eyes that look out on the world quietly enough. You might talk to him for long in an ordinary way and never suspect that he was a genius; but when you have him to yourself, when some consciousness of sympathy rouses him, he all at once becomes a different being. His quiet eyes kindle, his face becomes full of life—you wonder that you ever thought it heavy or commonplace. Then the world interrupts in some way, and, just as a hermit-crab draws down its shell with a comically rapid movement, so Derrick suddenly retires into himself.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Court Memoirs of France Series (Complete) by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book La Comédie De La Mort by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book Thrilling Adventures by Land and Sea by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book Brazilian Tales by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Meeting-Place of Geology and History by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Selected Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book A Canadian Heroine, a Novel (Complete) by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book Out in the Forty-Five: Duncan Keith's Vow by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Great White Tribe in Filipinia by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book Arthur O'Leary: His Wanderings and Ponderings In Many Lands by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Slave of Silence by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book Pocahontas: A Poem by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Red Bicycle by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Star People by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
Cover of the book The Wire Pullers by Edna Lyall (Ada Ellen Bayly)
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy