Louis stood there, confused. He knew the standard Bushman bow-hunting drill: drop to your belly,creep into arrow range, let fly. So what the hell was this all about? He鈥檇 heard a little aboutpersistence hunts, but he ranked them somewhere between an accident and a lie: either the animalhad actually broken its neck while fleeing, or the story was out-and-out baloney. No way theseguys were going to catch one of those kudus on foot. No way. But the more he said 鈥淣o way,鈥?thefarther away the Bushmen got, so Louis quit thinking and started running. 欧美AV_AV在线视频成人社区,男人的天堂东京热！ In the writing of Barchester Towers I took great delight. The bishop and Mrs. Proudie were very real to me, as were also the troubles of the archdeacon and the loves of Mr. Slope. When it was done, Mr. W. Longman required that it should be subjected to his reader; and he returned the MS. to me, with a most laborious and voluminous criticism 鈥?coming from whom I never knew. This was accompanied by an offer to print the novel on the half-profit system, with a payment of 锟?00 in advance out of my half-profits 鈥?on condition that I would comply with the suggestions made by his critic. One of these suggestions required that I should cut the novel down to two volumes. In my reply, I went through the criticisms, rejecting one and accepting another, almost alternately, but declaring at last that no consideration should induce me to cut out a third of my work. I am at a loss to know how such a task could have been performed. I could burn the MS., no doubt, and write another book on the same story; but how two words out of six are to be withdrawn from a written novel, I cannot conceive. I believe such tasks have been attempted 鈥?perhaps performed; but I refused to make even the attempt. Mr. Longman was too gracious to insist on his critic鈥檚 terms; and the book was published, certainly none the worse, and I do not think much the better, for the care that had been taken with it.