ent fiction; for
man cannot live by spice alone, which causes a sort of mental dyspepsia
which is very hard to overcome.

SETS

An appetite for "complete sets" is a perverted one which usually goes
with a love for the shell of the book rather than its meat. It is
better far to prune out the obscure works and buy, a few at a time if
necessary, the best known works of favorite authors, than to clutter up
one's bookshelves with volumes which will never be opened. Partial
sets acquired in this way can be of uniform edition and gain in value
from those which are left in the shop.

BINDING

Books, like our other friends, have an added attraction if tastily
clothed. Good cloth bindings, not too ornate or strong in color, are
substantial and usually best for the home library. Real leather
bindings of morocco or pigskin are rich and suggestive of good food
within, but imitation leather must join other domestic outcasts.
Though it may look well at first it soon shows its quality of
shabby-genteel. Calf has deteriorated because of the modern quick
method of tanning by the use of acids, which dries the skin and causes
it to crack. Books in party attire of white paper and parchment and
very delicate colors are not good comrades, for the paper cover which
must be put on to protect the binding is a nuisance, while without it
"touch me not" seems to be written all over the book. Our best book
friends are not of this kind, but permit us to be on terms of friendly
intimacy with them, receiving as their reward all due meed of courteous
treatment. There can be no true reverence for books in the heart of
the vandal who leaves marks of disrespectful soiled fingers on their
pages, turns down their leaves, and breaks their backs by laying them
open, face down.

PAPER

Their paper should be of a good quality, not too heavy, and the type
clear, both of which conditions usually obtain in an average-priced
book. Their housing has much to do with their preservation. Dampness
is, perhaps, their deadliest enemy, not only rotting and loosening the
covers, but mildewing the leaves and taking out the "size" which gives
them body. An outside wall is always more or less damp, and for this
reason the bookcase must stand out from it at least a foot, if it
stands there at all, and preferably at right angles to it. Dust is
also an insidious enemy, from which, in very sooty, dirty localities,
glass doors afford the best protect