a short essay on memories

she does remember that it had a red cover. Personally I would sooner give a child a copy of Petrenius Arbiter than. Twenty years OF launching careers, literal Latté currently offers five count em, five annual writing contests. Scarcely half the people who ordered books from us ever came back. It used to interest me to see the brutal cynicism with which Christian sentiment is exploited. How the book thieves must love those libraries! Given a good pitch and the right amount of capital, any educated person ought to be able to make a small secure living out of a bookshop. In our shop we sold nothing on credit, but we would put books aside, or order them if necessary, for people who arranged to fetch them away later. Dell's novels, of course, are read solely by women, but by women of all kinds and ages and not, as one might expect, merely by wistful spinsters and the fat wives of tobacconists.

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The combines can never squeeze the small independent bookseller out of existence as they have squeezed the grocer and the milkman. Our shop stood exactly on the frontier between Hampstead and Camden Town, and we were frequented by all types from baronets to bus-conductors. On the whole in spite of my employer's kindness to me, and some happy days I spent in the shop. The kind of person who asks the librarian to choose a book for him nearly always starts by saying I don't want short stories, or I do not desire little stories, as a German customer of ours used to put. The Mill on the Floss. Into the ordinary lending library; nobody takes them out. But many of them, of course, were unmistakable paranoiacs. Stamp-collectors are a strange, silent, fish-like breed, of all ages, but only of the male sex; women, apparently, fail to see the peculiar charm of gumming bits of coloured paper into albums.