Part 62

"The mother, with her baby in her lap, sent the ten cents to the woman who was waiting, and then took the book, which opened quite naturally at the article on the Inquisition, and began to read. And, although the baby grew restless and began to cry, she didn't stop reading until she had finished that article. 'It's fully worth five cents,' she said to herself, as she put it on the shelf for future perusal.

"It was not long before the thought struck Abner that he was losing opportunities which spread themselves around him, so he jumped up and took down a book. The volume proved to be one of 'Elegant Extracts'; but after reading certain reflections 'Upon Seeing Mr. Pope's House at Binfield' he thought he would like something more in the nature of a story, and took up a thinner volume entitled 'Dick's Future State.' He turned over the leaves, hoping to meet with some of the adventures of Dick; but his attention was arrested by a passage which asserted that arithmetic would be one of the occupations to be followed in heaven. He was about to put away the book in disgust--for to him there was no need of a man's being good in this world if he were to be condemned to arithmetic in the next--when the light from the open door was darkened by a large body who approached in carpet slippers, making no noise. This proved to be a round and doleful negro woman, a greater part of her face wrapped up in a red-and-green handkerchief. Her attire was somewhat nondescript, and entirely unsuggestive of literary inclinations. She groaned as she entered the room.

"'Whar Mr. Bro'nsill?' she asked, with one hand to her face.

"Abner was amazed. Was it possible that this woman could read, and that she cared for books? He explained the situation, and assured her that he could attend to her just as well as the regular librarian.

"'I's mighty glad to hear dat,' said the woman, 'I's mighty glad to hear dat, for I hasn't slep' one wink for dis tooth. Mr. Bro'nsill he allus pulls my teeth, and dey nebber has been one what ached as bad as dis.'

"With this she began to unwrap her swollen face.

"'You needn't do that,' cried Abner. 'I can't pull teeth. You must go to the dentist.'

"'That'll be fifty cents,' said the woman, 'and Mr. Bro'nsill he don' charge nothin'. I know whar he keeps his pinchers. Dey's in dat drawer in de table. And you kin pull it out jes as well as anudder pusson. I'd pull hit out ef I wuz anudder pusson.'

"Abner shook his head. 'I never pulled a tooth,' he said. 'I don't know nothin' about it.'

"'Don' dey tell somethin' about pullin' teeth in dese here books?' said the woman.

"Abner shook his head. 'There may be,' he said, 'but I don't know where to find it.'

"'And you's de librarian,' said she, in a tone of supreme contempt, 'and don' know how to fin' what's in de books!' And with this she re-wrapped her face and wabbled away.

"'I hope the next one will want a book,' said Abner to himself, 'and won't want nothin' else. If I'm to be librarian I want to fork out books.'

"The morning passed, and no one else appeared. The forenoon was not the time when people generally came for books in that town.

"After he had eaten the dinner he had brought, Abner sat down to meditate a little. He was not sure that the life of a librarian would suit him. It was almost as lonesome as hoeing corn.

"Some time after these reflections--it might have been a minute, it might have been an hour--he was awakened by a man's voice, and suddenly started upright in his chair.

"'Hello!' said the voice. 'You keepin' library for old Brownsill?'

"'That's what I'm doin',' said Abner; 'he's away for his holiday.'

"The new-comer, Joe Pearson, was an odd creature. I remember him well. He had been assistant to the town clerk, but was now out of a position. He was a stout man with little eyes, and wore a shiny black coat, and no collar.

"'I am glad to hear it,' he said. 'Mr. Brownsill's a little too sharp for my fancy; I'd rather do business with you. Have you got any books on eggs?'

"'I don't know,' said Abner, 'but I can look. What kind of eggs?'

"'I don't suppose there's a different book for every kind of egg,' said Joe; 'I guess they're lumped.'

"'All right,' said Abner; 'step up to the shelves, and we'll take a look. Now here's one that I've just been glancin' over myself. It seems to have a lot of different things in it: it's called "Elegant Extracts."'

"'"Elegant Extracts" won't do,' said Joe; 'they ain't eggs.'

"'E, E, E,' said Abner, looking along the line, and anxious to make a good show in the eyes of his acquaintance, who had the reputation of being a man of considerable learning. '"Experimental Christianity"--but that won't do.'

"After fifteen or twenty minutes occupied in scrutiny of backs of books, Joe Pearson gave up the search. 'I don't believe there's a book on eggs in the whole darned place,' said he. 'That's just like Brownsill; he hasn't got no fancy for nothin' practical.'

"'What do you want to know about eggs?' said Abner.

"Mr. Pearson did not immediately answer, but after a few moments of silent consideration he walked to the door and closed it. Then he sat down, and invited Abner to sit by him. 'Look here, Abner Batterfield,' said he; 'I've got a idee that's goin' to make my fortune. I want somebody to help me, and I don't see why you couldn't do it as well as anybody else. For one thing, you've got a farm.'