Extraordinarily beautiful morning in the forest and ideas for the second act arrived one after the other in a manner very creditable to them.
Letters from Frank Harris and Wells and his friend about "The Glimpse". But really I have had very few letters about it. Wells describes it as 'a glimpse into an empty cavern' of my mind. Not sure what that is meant to mean!
I am not convinced about the second part of the book myself, but I am sure that the 1st and 3rd parts are as good as the best I can do. Some people who like the 2nd don't care for the 3rd: which unfortunately shows that they have not understood the 2nd. Also I am now supposed to be a Theosophist, a Hegelian and all sorts of things. The second part is simple Theosophy, nothing else, and taken bodily therefrom (with improvements); but I have now made Theosophy serve my turn, & I have done with it. I read Mrs. Besant three times, and made fresh notes every time, in order to do the 2nd part; a fearful grind; & the Theosophical Society ought now to reprint my 2nd part as one of their official publications; it is infinitely more graphic and coherent than any of their own tracts. I liked 'Bond Street'. Enough. What interests me now is the sales.
I shall positively appear in the Five Towns early in December, and remain there at least two weeks. I must have at least two weeks with Mr. Dawson, the bookseller and printer. My next hero's father is the pater + Mr. Beardmore = a steamprinter. Dawson has printed three Christmas books for me and is a prime source of information about the Potteries. He is also a magistrate and a student profoundly versed in the psychology of the Five Towns.
Pauline Smith is here, is beginning a novel, and has half an hour's remarks from me every night. My remarks are really rather good. Strange girl. She can write. But she won't talk. However we make her, at least Marguerite does. She says: "Now Pauline, you have let the conversation fall." She is already better.
See also 'A bad night' - November 14th., -
Additionally for October 22nd., see 'Famous men' -
This is my idea of fame:
At an entertainment on board H.M.S. Majestic, Rudyard Kipling, one of the guests, read "Soldier and Sailor Too", and was encored. He then read "The Flag of England". At the conclusion a body of subalterns swept him off the stage, and chaired him round the quarter-deck, while "For he's a jolly good fellow" was played by the massed bands of the Fleet and sung by 200 officers assembled.