Rashdall's "Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages," a work for which he expressed the highest respect and admiration—"down with me, but deserted it yesterday afternoon for Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice,' which I have just finished. I am getting better here, but was better on Sunday for the matter of that. The doctor called on Monday, and told me it was good for me not to be victimized by bores, and that I had better not be: this seems to me such very good advice, that I pass it on to you; but am just struck with fear that you may begin the practice of it on me. Anyhow I will be cautious enough of it not to make this letter longer."
In December the Chaucer was making such good progress that he began to design a binding for it. Even here he was confronted by the difficulty of obtaining sound material. "Leather is not good now," he said in talking about this matter; "what used to take nine months to cure is done in three. They used to say, what's longest in the tanyard stays least time in the market: but that no longer holds good. People don't know how to buy now; they'll take anything." The truth in this last sentence goes very deep. The manufacturer—so Morris perpetually urged—is but the servant of the public, and the buyer is equally responsible with the seller (each, he would add, doing their best to cheat the other) for a state of things which floods all markets with cheap dishonest work.
As the Chaucer approached completion, Morris became nervous about anything which threatened, however remotely, to delay it. "I'd like it finished to-morrow," he answered, when asked how early a date would satisfy him for its appearance: "every day beyond to-morrow that it isn't done is one too
