of all persons alive in Great
Britain and Ireland in any given day of twenty-four hours, must have
received a prize of some sort.
Novelists, however, have not as yet received a prize of any sort,
at least as novelists. The reproach is about to be removed. A prize
of L1000 has been offered for the best novel by the Editor of a
newspaper. The most distinguished writers are, so it is declared,
entered for the Competition, but only the name of the prize-winner is
to be revealed, only the prize-winning novel is to be published. Such
at least has been the assurance given to all the eminent authors
by the Editor in question. But _Mr. Punch_ laughs at other people's
assurances, and by means of powers conferred upon him by himself for
that purpose, he has been able to obtain access to all the novels
hitherto sent in, and will now publish a selection of Prize Novels,
together with the names of their authors, and a few notes of his own,
wherever the text may seem to require them.
In acting thus _Mr. Punch_ feels, in the true spirit of the newest
and the Reviewest of Reviews, that he is conferring a favour on the
authors concerned by allowing them the publicity of these columns.
Sometimes pruning and condensation may be necessary.
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