Shadow of great britain

The young man named 'William' heard the poem recited by Arthur and frowned and asked: "Why haven't I heard this poem? Which Cambridge student is it?"

Arthur pretended to be surprised and asked, "Don't you know such a famous poem? It was written by a Cambridge poet named Xu."

Elder also helped: "Yes, as a literature lover, you have never heard of this poem, right? You just said that you won the Cambridge Gold Medal for Poetry. Isn't the Cambridge Gold Medal Is this the only level of knowledge you have?"

William was suddenly a little unconfident when they yelled at each other: "Yes...really?"

Another young man named 'Alfred' hurriedly came up to smooth things over. He apologized to Arthur and Elder: "Two gentlemen, although I have never heard of this poem. But judging from the content, Judging from this, the author of this poem indeed possesses a very high level of romantic lyric poetry creation."

When William heard that even his companions had complimented the poem, he felt completely at a loss.

After all, although Alfred was very young, he was not only the winner of the gold medal for poetry at Cambridge University, but also had a certain reputation in the field of poetry creation throughout Great Britain.

If Alfred agrees with it, then this poem, not to mention how good it is, is at least not far behind.

But he was still unwilling to admit defeat so easily. The young man's arrogance still supported him to straighten his back and said: "I admit that this poem is okay, but compared with Alfred's "Timbuktu", it There’s still some distance.”

""Timbuktu"?" Elder couldn't help but frowned when he heard the name. Although he usually seemed aloof, in addition to reading tabloid stories, he did occasionally pay attention to the literary circle. things.

Elder asked: "Are you the Alfred Tennyson from Cambridge?"

Tennyson nodded sheepishly and said, "Have you read my poems?"

Elder curled his lips: "I saw it accidentally."

"Have you seen it accidentally?" When the young man named William heard this, he suddenly became angry: "Sir, what do you mean?"

Elder shrugged and said with a look of shame: "Nothing, I just think that as far as literature is concerned, everyone has their own opinions. I think "Timbuktu" is indeed good, but it is just that. It's just okay. In a sense, I think he's not even as emotional as the one just now... uh... Arthur, what's the name of that poem?"

Arthur glanced at the boy. He didn't want to answer, but in an instant he realized that Elder kept winking at him.

Judging from his attitude, he had to compete with these two young people from Cambridge today.

Arthur sighed: "That poem is called "Farewell Cambridge"."

"Yes, that's right, "Farewell Cambridge"! From the standpoint of a serious literary critic, I think "Timbuktu" is not as good as "Farewell Cambridge"!"

William was directly irritated by Elder's provocative tone. He suppressed his anger and asked: "Literary critic? I wonder what your name is and what works you have in the field of literature?"

Elder heard this: "This is Elder Carter, a professional critic who disdains the creation of works."

William laughed angrily at his answer: "Boy, so you haven't written anything, but here you are questioning Alfred's poetry level?"

Elder took advantage of the situation and asked: "So what about you? Who are you, and what works do you have in the field of literature?"

"Me?" William was still aggressive, but when Elder asked, his cheeks instantly turned red. He held it in for a long time before he said, "My name is William Thackeray. I just love literature and have written some Something, but, but not very famous..."

When Elder heard this, he seemed to have seized an opportunity to win. He sarcastically said: "So you are also a nobody? Since you think that one must have status and works to comment on poetry, then what is your point of view? Isn’t it equally insignificant?”

When William Thackeray heard this, he wanted to retort, but he didn't know how to retaliate.

In anger, he clenched his fists tighter and tighter. Then, with a bang, Thackeray pushed open the door of the store, grabbed the door and ran out without looking back.

Upon seeing this, Tennyson quickly apologized to Arthur and Elder: "I'm sorry, gentlemen, my friend's family situation is a bit complicated, which makes his character a bit extreme. Don't worry about it, he usually Really a nice guy.”

After saying that, he didn't care about choosing an instrument for his speech, but hurriedly chased him out: "William! Wait for me!"

When Elder saw this, he couldn't help but snorted proudly: "Look, this is Cambridge education."

But he waited for a long time and didn't get a response from Arthur. When he looked back, he found that Arthur was holding his chin and looking at the two people's retreating backs.

Elder punched Arthur and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Arthur pursed his lips, glanced at his friend, and said, "Elder, I want to congratulate you."

"Congratulations?" Elder grinned: "It's no big deal, I just defeated a guy from Cambridge."

"No, I don't mean congratulations in this sense."

Arthur said: "Offending the French Alexandre Dumas is enough for you to leave your name in history, and now you have the British William Thackeray. I simply don't know what your name will be in the distant future. How many world-famous books will you appear in? Maybe you will become a template for villains around the world.

Oh, by the way, I almost forgot, and Charles, maybe in his books in the future, you will have to put them together with the monkey illustrations. First the monkey, then you. "

Hearing this, Elder's face was full of disbelief: "Arthur, you like to scare me with this kind of thing every day. You said that the bald Charles will be a big shot in the future, and you said that the one with the hat will be a big shot in the future too. Now even these two You also give such a high evaluation to a guy who graduated from Cambridge. Does it mean that as long as he is a person, as long as he meets you, he can become a big shot in the future? "

"No, how could it be?" Arthur smiled slightly, and he patted Elder on the shoulder: "Elder, aren't you still here?"

"Hey!" Elder rolled his eyes: "Am I not the template for the world's villains as you say? How can I be unknown?"

"That's right." Arthur nodded: "Alexander has included you in his manuscript, and Mr. Thackeray will definitely not let you go casually."

"Ah?! Alexander arranged for me?" Elder frowned when he heard this: "No wonder he never showed me his manuscript! I didn't do anything to him, I have been taking him around London these days What! Then I turned around and he treated me like this?"

Arthur asked: "Are you sure you didn't do anything to him?"

After hearing this, Elder replied with a guilty conscience: "To be honest, maybe...maybe...probably...I said something that made him unhappy...but I didn't mean it."

"What did you say?"

Elder said: "He said he couldn't figure out why so many British people had to crowd on this small island. Whether they immigrated to France or the United States, they could live a better life. I said I also agreed with him. opinion, and it is also beneficial to the world, for every time someone emigrates from Britain to France or America, the average intelligence of all three countries rises a little."

As soon as Elder finished speaking, he heard a low and suppressed laughter coming from under the counter of the store.

When Arthur heard this voice, he couldn't help but put a finger between his lips: "Shh, step slower."

Arthur quietly walked around the counter, bent down slightly, and his smiling face happened to meet the face of Charles Wheatstone, whose smile was uglier than crying.

Wheatstone's lips were trembling, and he was holding a black suitcase in his arms. Looking at his posture, if Arthur had come a step later, he might never find this guy again.

Arthur took off his hat, stretched out his hand to him, smiled and greeted: "Mr. Wheatstone, long time no see."

Wheatstone held Arthur's hand tremblingly: "Black...Mr. Hastings, you...you really can't let me go?"

"Let you go? No, what are you talking about? I just hope to gain your friendship and help you complete your new invention."

Wheatstone sighed, and he leaned forward, but before he could get out of the counter, he heard a faint sound from the box he was holding in his arms, which was a burst of lightning, followed by , a familiar to somewhat unfamiliar man's voice came from the box.

"We are not thugs or accomplices, we are just a group of former shoemakers, blacksmiths, carpenters, grooms, hutmakers, assemblers, builders, bakers, unemployed workers and landless farmers... Today, we A demonstration initiated by a group of workers will be suppressed..."

When Wheatstone heard this voice, he quickly raised his hands in fear. He stammered and said: "Mr. Hastings, you... please listen to me explain. I really didn't record this on purpose. I just did it yesterday." I planned to deliver this thing to your mansion, but when I passed by Wellington Arch... if you... you are not happy, I will destroy this thing now."

Arthur looked at Wheatstone's regretful expression, and was silent for a while, then he smiled and knocked the suitcase with his knuckles: "The tone may be a little bad for the time being, and some parts don't sound very clear. But, Mr. Wheatstone, I must congratulate you on a wonderful new invention."

Wheatstone was stunned by what he said, and asked: "You...don't you care about these things recorded?"

"I care, of course I care. But..."

"But?" Wheatstone was frightened: "Then I'll smash it now!"

But just as he was about to smash the box with his fist, he found that his arm was squeezed tightly by Arthur.

Wheatstone asked in confusion: "You?"

Arthur smiled and lifted him up from under the cabinet and dusted him off: "No need to smash it, you may not understand. Maybe recording this passage can be regarded as one of the meanings of inventing it."