Norwich bulletin., 1917-07-21
ABOUT CLASSICAL HERoINEs

woman who likes to talk, and know my views are most reprehensible- but I own to the keenest sympathy for the girl who has to read proper books that are good for her mental development. Honest do you know That you are brutal to your chi1d?"
 We'll" gasped the mother so ad- dressed, I'd like to hear what you
 'Pooh!" scoffed the girl who likes to talk. When it came to books I wasn't brought up! And I had the reading fever! I read everything I and Shakespeare to Duchess novels, Bertha M. Clay and the Preside Com panion! And I wouldn't take a mil lion dollars for the fun got out of those silly romancesi" N
 They were full of the most delect- able and appropriate people, When you are Is what do you care for a wonderful heroine If she has a pug nose or large feet! Your sensibilities are shocked and you want none of her What you do want is a, slender, girl ish creature of IT with a roseleaf complication. curling hair of spun gold eyes like dew drenched yiolets, fairy figure and delicate little feet that would not crush a pathway of rose petals! That's what you want.
 And you want her to wear lovely robes of shimmering satin and lace Never could she go out and pull weeds m the garden. like any other human being. The only time she fusses with d garden is when. after dinner, she strolls down it's pathways with the titled hero, never spelling her satin slippers in the wet gras nor injuring the herns of her flmy skirts as you regretfuily realize you should have done if you had attempted it.
 And the hero by the way Really the heroes that the modern first class novels hand out are an imposition on any trusting young girl readerl Rare. ly are they good looking At the most they have strong faces with rugged knobby foreheads and they have pur- poses Some of our best writers take a malicious pleasure in showing he- roes who are actually undersized or wear glasses or are stoop should cred and anaemic, and they get away with It because their older readers are dis jllusfoned, anyhow, and know that the human race is more than a pt to grow that way
 But any one with sense would know at once that that is no proper kind of a hero. He must be young and yet thorough, experienced man Of the world. He must be slender, yet fearful1y strong and his white firm hands can throttle the worst thug who dares attack him. Nothing ever ruff lies his brow across which his heavy hair waves care1essly.
 And. by the way the perfect story never puts its characters in any other. room but the drawing room. You feel at once how we'll bred they are even if they are forced to live in a four room flat. Always 1t is the drawing room. no matter if the caller can hear father bang down his shoes in the bedroom ten feet distant and mother washing dishes in the kitchen You feel that it is but temporary and their ancestral halls.
 And the villain, Oh, joy, Why. since I've grown up I've read books in which the villain was so exactly world suspect hm, and that never w1l do. you know. The ideal villain puts a sinister glint to his eyes and cruel curl to his lip when he ties his crayat in the morning and he never m1slays these properties.
 'He has a fiendish way of always steping in at the psychological mo- ment and blighting somebody and he whole twenty-four hours of the day does he display a nice human inn pulse. He is on the job every second and keeps you thrilled with horror and wrath
 Also in the modern novel people are usually left in very moderate fin- ancial circumstances at the end of the book. In my youthful romances the leading characters always inner tied millions of dollars in the last chapter from some relative who kind ly died just then and restored the money to the branch of the rightful heir.
 Castles and millions and family jewel and lowing retainers-my goodness. how I wish I could find one of those books nowI To hear a hero on page 526 whisper brokenly. My darling with his face pressed against her golden curIs. to listen to the despairing means and curses of the villain as he is dragged off to inn prisonment, to have the butler, as a matter of course, bring in the tea things with hot scones and jam with out being ordered to do it-why, they haven't served tea in the last ten novels I've read lately! And as for ball gowns of trailing black lace with crimson pomegranate blossoms pin- ned upon her breast-I haven't even heard of one for a thousand years, a nd I did love them sol"
 T agree that this is most affecting" said her listener. Still, I insist that my child shall not read that volume she had entitled Loves Doom, or the Sorrow of Lady Elaine!' The ideal"