Her Opinion of the Play by Marcellus Eugene Cook read by Various | Full Audio Book

Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Anita Hibberd June 1st, 2026 Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak off my mind. And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics, who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly, and more that's exciting, you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? Two would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy, and did you observe his mustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain, there, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of Unites, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review, but for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit, how he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming, or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter, and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious, and I tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious, why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play By Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org By Alan Lawley Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind? And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly, and more that's exciting your own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand, the heroic, when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? Twould have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain Delancey. Now, doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Did you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction. And that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censored by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming. For he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer. For I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I tell him so, too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play By Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Bruce Kachuk Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind. And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you loaned. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? It would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain de Lancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction. And that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming. Or he never could write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer. For I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious, why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for Liberbox.org by Bryce Kreis, Ohio Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind? And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a mock in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you'll own. Why, I pitied the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? Could have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, the lancy, now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his mustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick at the pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censored by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with a sharp little needle of wit. I'm sure he is perfectly charming or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce, I should so like to meet with the writer for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious and I tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious, why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play By Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by B. Sweatscandal Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind and I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue which would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, Sue, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you'll pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such an it. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I'm sure he is perfectly charming or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if only I were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it's audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author. Good gracious. Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox by Lynn Allen Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind? And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you loan. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? T'would have quickened the pulse of a stoic, but of Corsair it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review, but for me its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think t'would be awful jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming, or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if only I were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious, and I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say it before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Callie Raine Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind, and I think t'would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? Would have quickened the pulse of a stoic, but of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, the lancy. Now, doesn't he act with a dash? Such art, such delicate fancy. And did you observe his mustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit, I know nothing of action, of unities, and plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know, you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I'm sure he is perfectly charming, or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her opinion of the play by Mark Cook Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind? And I think it would be better if men did the same, when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you'll know. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? It would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain there. Laugh, if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me its interest increases because it will be censored by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with a sharp little needle of wit. I'm sure he's perfectly charming or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer. For I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster. You critics who sit here and stare. Looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? Twould have quickened the pulse of the stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action. Of unities, plot and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction. And that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because Twould be censured by you. I should think Twould be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he's perfectly charming. For he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should like so to meet with the writer. For I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it's audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Garth Burton Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind. And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster. You critics who sit here and stare looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, your own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? T'would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now, doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because t'will be censored by you. I should think t'would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And, oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so, too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Larry Wilson Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind and I think t'would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster. You critics who sit here and stare looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting you alone. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly as if he were someone I'd known And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? T'would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think T'would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming. For he could ever write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should like to meet with the writer. For I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Oh, good gracious. Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Paul Clayton Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind. And I think T'would be better if men did. The same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster. You critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? T'would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh, if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you'll pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me its interest increases because t'will be censored by you. I should think t'would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit, how he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming, for he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce! I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cook Read for LibriVox.org by Phil Shempf Do you like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind, and I think t'would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster. You critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly, and more that's exciting you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? T'would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain de Lancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unity's plot and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horrible, savage review. But for me, its interest increases because T'will be censured by you. I should think T'would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming, for he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce, I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Her Opinion of the Play by Mark Cooke Read for LibriVox.org by Rapunzelina Do I like it? I think it's just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind. And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly, and more that's exciting you own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl Sue? Would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain Delancey. Now, doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his moustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot and the rest. The play gives complete satisfaction, and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savagery view. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming. Or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer, for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious. And I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious, why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. For opinion of the play by Mark Cook. Read for LibriVox.org by Winifred Aspen. Do I like it? I think it just splendid. You see how I speak out my mind. And I think it would be better if men did the same when they feel so inclined. But no, you're all dumb as an oyster, you critics who sit here and stare, looking grave as a monk in his cloister. You haven't laughed once, I declare. I'm sure there's been lots that is jolly and more that's exciting, you'll own. Why, I pity the poor hero's folly, as if he were someone I'd known. And wasn't it grand and heroic when he shielded that friendless girl, Sue? It would have quickened the pulse of a stoic. But of course, sir, it couldn't rouse you. And then for the villain, Delancey. Now doesn't he act with a dash? Such art and such delicate fancy. And did you observe his mustache? He made my very blood tingle when he threw himself down on his knees. Do you know if he's married or single? Yes, the villain. There, laugh if you please. I admit I know nothing of action, of unities, plot, and the rest. But the play gives complete satisfaction and that is a good enough test. Yes, I know you will pick it to pieces in your horribly savage review. But for me, its interest increases because it will be censured by you. I should think it would be awfully jolly for the author to make such a hit. How he pricks all the bubbles of folly with his sharp little needle of wit. I am sure he is perfectly charming or he could never write such a play. I declare, sir, it's really alarming to have you sit staring that way. And oh, if I only were brighter and not such a poor little dunce. I should so like to meet with the writer for I know I should love him at once. Yes, I should, though you think it audacious and I'd tell him so too, which is more. And you are the author? Good gracious! Why didn't you say so before? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.