Max Beerbohm

“ Hoffmann guides me, as Mephisto, Faust, through all the nurseries of that childish world. He shows me those undersized, sharp-featured, bright-tunicked children, mocking the blackamoor along the flowered pathway, or fidgeting at table, or refusing soup. At his word, a door springs open for the furial inrush of that tailor who does ever dock miscreant thumbs, and Harriet, also, avidis circumdata flammis, comes flying from her great folly. ”

“ His tangled density of chevelure and meek exposure of interminable nails, his ill-made tunic and green gaiters, make altogether a quite repellent picture. More pleasing to seek those gracious pages traversed by Johnny's history! The landscape there is nothing but a lamp-post and some cobble-stones ”

“ None knew Johnny. In my distracted wandering, I did, at length, find the dyke, the cobble-stone, the lamppost, just as Hoffmann had drawn them, but, though I had the river dragged for many hours, the remnant of no scarlet book rose to the surface. I left Frankfort in some annoyance. Wearied with research, I slept soundly in the train, and, in a dream, sleep gave mee, found the secret of my vain quest. In a dream, 1 saw myself strutting, even as Johnny had strutted, a creature of high and insolent carriage, bearing beneath my arm a scarlet book, labelled "The Works of Max Beerbohm." ”