Evening star., 1951-08-11

five articles which include hitherto un-
published letters by Bernard Show to q
| young girl who fell in love with him.
| never throughout her life wovered in
/ her devotion to him, ond cloimed at
/ one time to have been his mistress.
girl who had fallen in love with
him.
/ 10, Adelphi Terrace, w. c.
/ 9th July, 1909.
I Dear -, You must get a
Typewriter if you wish me to read
your letters. And you must not
tell me lies if you wish to eaten
me more than once.
You sent me a card to say that
the last letter but one was impor-
tant and not the usual thing.
took the trouble (you forgot the
strain on an elderly mans eye
sight of that terrible tiny pen
cilling of yours to decipher a
couple of sentences taken at ran
dom.
! They were the usual thing. So
I tore it up as I have Just torn
up this one, unread.
In future, ten lines of type
writing and no more.
Yours to that extent,
G. B. S.
She Got The Typewriter.
The indefatigable girl. of
course, got a typewriter and so
she got an answer (the affair to
which the first paragraph refers
is lost in the passage of time):
10, Adelphi Terrace, w. C.
18th october, 1909.
My dear-, The reason
asked you not to meddle in that
affair was that I was having a
great deal of trouble over it be-
cause it had been too much med
died in already.
People had lost their heads and
were treating a catastrophe as in
evitable. I was doing what I could
to bring them all to their senses;
and I hope I have succeeded.
I am greatly indebted to you for
typewriting your letters; but l
can't answer them, partly because
I haven't time, and also because
they never tell me anything.
| It is just as if a strange girl
stopped me on the road and said,
"Oh please you mustn't think ]
meant really to go there and oh
dear if you would only not take
that view of my wanting to get
there because of what the doctor
said: for I really meant the other
whenever I meant anything, etc,
etc, ETC."
Imagine me replying Madam
What the devil is the matter?"
and the answer coming They
have told me this time that it is
impossible for me to go on much
longer like this
Like what? Who told you?
Don't Answer, Says Shaw.
But don't answer me: I am too
busy to want to know. AS you
have nothing to do, and are ac-
cordingly in an appalling state
of hypochondriaSiS, you are a
little insane; and insane people
are frightful bores. They write to
me reams and reams about their
symptoms.
I get letters from other women
which are almost word for word
your letters. I glance at them;
recognize the old song; and away
they go-five or six sheets of tears
and blood and confesSions-into
the waste paper basket.
I used to bear a great deal of
! it from you because you occasion
ally got some little thing worth
saying, or some definite bit of
amusing news into it: but the
strain was too great: you have nc
idea when you are writing what
is worth reading, and when you
are going on like the telephone
girls and typists and school
teachers who write endless anc
absurd letters (poor thingsD
They all want to make the VIC
tim their priest; and when hs
takes pity on them and hears
their confessions and helps them
they promptly abuse the relation
ship, which is horribly dishonor-
able and indelicate.
I allow one page, typed, in an.
swer, and no more, and shall no
answer the ANSWER if it is no
healthy and amusing.
G. B. S
Hundreds Every Year.
He certainly, poor Bernard
Shaw, never got that "one page
typed, and no more" He got hun.
dreds and hundreds of pages. yeal
latter year, written in the mos
confusing, unpunctuated style
never healthy" and rarely" anus
ling"
The Rirl, and the woman intt