A small shaver clutched a well-worn,
dirty volume. At last it came his turn to place his volume for the
inspection of the librarian. The suspense was great, but finally
the librarian leaned forward. Taking in the size of the boy and then
glancing back at the book she remarked, "This is rather technical,
isn't it?"
Planting his feet firmly on the floor, the boy, half-defiant,
half-apologetic, retorted, "It was that way when I got it, ma'am."
"My husband is a most inveterate reader," exclaimed Mrs. Knox with a
slight tone of ennui. "He reads until dawn every morning. Why, last
night I found him asleep with his nose in 'V.V.'s Eyes!'"
_Toast to Librarians_
Said the "maker of books" to the "keeper of books,"
Yours is the task to hold
The choice of the changeable minds of men
To that which is pure gold.
Yours to watch at the ebb and flow
The tides of the public thought--
Flotsam or jetsam floating in
With the treasure genius brought.
For the unperishable dream of the soul lives on,
As the dream of genius must,
When the brain which wrought and the hand that wrote
Are one with the "daisied dust."
And so with reverent hands may you give
To the minds of men in their need,
The written word that's the word worth while,
So keepers of books--God speed!
_Do You Believe In Fairies?_
The world is full of people
Who are under the impression
That libr'ry work in general
Is the easiest profession.
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