Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Practicing Opening Lines

The trouble commenced when the Stranger came to town.

We later thought he might have been a Spaniard, on account of a letter arrived from Mahón, Menorca after the gentleman had long gone. The writer represented the Spanish government and asked if there had been a visitation to our Ozark town by a stranger with "a voice of satén" whose Spanish "r" rolled a low rumble, more gutteral growl, "grr," than trippingly on the tongue. Satén grr, we pronounced. Satin growl. That struck a strong chord of memory. We had all noticed that distinctive burr in the stranger's manner of speaking . . .


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