By Evelyn Waugh
Lord Copper, newspaper wealthy person and owner of the Daily Beast, has consistently prided himself on his intuitive aptitude for recognizing ace journalists. that isn't to claim he has no longer made the unusual blunder, although, and should in a second of weak spot make one other. performing on a cocktail party tip from Mrs. Algernon sew, Lord Copper feels confident that he has hit on simply the chap to hide a promising battle within the African Republic of Ishmaelia. So starts off Scoop, Waugh's exuberant comedy of flawed id and brilliantly irreverent satire of the anxious pursuit of sizzling information.
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Extra resources for Scoop
Awake! ’ he cried. ‘It is a red dawn. Strange things await us by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know; but we are called. ’ The others sprang up, and almost at once they set off again. Slowly the downs drew near. It was still an hour before noon when they reached them: green slopes rising to bare ridges that ran in a line straight towards the North. At their feet the ground was dry and the turf short, but a long strip of sunken land, some ten miles wide, lay between them and the river wandering deep in dim thickets of reed and rush.
For many hours they had marched without rest. They were going slowly now, and Gimli’s back was bent. Stone-hard are the Dwarves in labour or journey, but this endless chase began to tell on him, as all hope failed in his heart. Aragorn walked behind him, grim and silent, stooping now and again to scan some print or mark upon the ground. Only Legolas still stepped as lightly as ever, his feet hardly seeming to press the grass, leaving no footprints as he passed; but in the waybread of the Elves he found all the sustenance that he needed, and he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of Elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed in the light of this world.
A vain pursuit from its beginning, maybe, which no choice of mine can mar or mend. Well, I have chosen. ’ He cast himself on the ground and fell at once into sleep, for he had not slept since their night under the shadow of Tol Brandir. Before dawn was in the sky he woke and rose. Gimli was still deep in slumber, but Legolas was standing, gazing northwards into the darkness, thoughtful and silent as a young tree in a windless night. ‘They are far far away,’ he said sadly, turning to Aragorn. ‘I know in my heart that they have not rested this night.