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 its pleasant qualities. This is his notorious distaste for the society of the professional interviewer, the curious tourist and the idle sight-seer. Here is Samuel G. Blythe's report of an attempted interview for the Saturday Evening Post:

"It cannot be said, in verity, that Thomas Hardy expressed any passionate eagerness to greet me at his Wessex home, but it came about, none the less. How keenly I recall the grizzled author of Tess and Jude as he stood that morning on his terrace, and his words—the words of the master!

"'Mr. Hardy, I have traveled three thousand miles to see you.' This reverently.

"'Really?' This politely, but with a certain disinterestedness that was depressing.

"'Yes, I have traveled three thousand miles to see you.' This with less reverence and more emphasis.

"'Really?' This with an intonation that expressed, with sufficient clarity, the thought: 'Well, you've seen me; what else do you want?'

"Imagine an earnest pilgrim at a literary shrine able to dig out but two cold and clammy 'Reallys' as a starter! The situation was precarious, and needed the tonic of instant diversion into other channels.

"'You have a lot of crows on your place.' This with an appropriate sweep of the arm that included an immense flock of black and busy birds on the lawn.

"'My word! Those are not crows; those are rooks!' And the author of Under the Greenwood Tree and Far from the Madding Crowd proceeded along the terrace by himself—if you can picture the scene that morning with