picy little ghost story as introduction! Buy in
haste, repent at leisure.

SECOND-HAND BOOKS.

It is a much pleasanter sight to my eyes to see a bookcase with
second-hand books in it, for these are almost always bought to be read.
In a teacher's house near Elgin, I recently saw a most remarkable
collection--a veritable ragged regiment of books: single volumes of
Plutarch, unexpurgated plays by Farquhar and Mrs. Behn, Civil War
pamphlets, and rows of oddities. Mr. Forbes (the owner) was at one
period of his life assistant in Falkirk, and every Saturday morning,
rain or shine, he proceeded to the city of Glasgow, for no purpose but
to roam through the dusty byeways and side streets in quest of
bookstalls. He knew all the dealers by name, and they welcomed him, for
he never left them without a purchase, however slight. It was a saying
of his that while it took half-a-crown to purchase you two hours'
amusement at a theatre, for a couple of shillings, or even less, you
might divide out a whole Saturday most enjoyably in the old book-shops.
He simply rioted in haggling over a threepenny piece. Even old Henderson
feared him. This Henderson was a thirsty old bookseller who kept a shop
at the corner of Cowcaddens and Ingram Street, and whose leading
speciality was second-hand family Bibles, with the former genealogical
leaf riven out and replaced by a clean sheet pasted in for the family of
the next purchaser. To him, sitting enthroned on a pile of Bibles,
Forbes, entering, spake: "Have you a copy of the _Lives of the Twelve
Caesars_?" "Aye, aye," said old Henderson, with a gracious smile;
"_thirteen_ if you like." The copy of Suetonius was produced, and "How
much do you want for Suet.?" queried Forbes. "Half-a-crown," said old
Henderson. "I'll give you ninepence," said Forbes. "Make it
one-and-six," said the bookseller, rising from his Biblical throne, "and
the book's yours." "I'll give you a shilling and a half of whisky,"
retorted Forbes. "Say a whole glass and the shilling, and we'll do
business," quoth the vendor of volumes. This was agreed upon, and the
two retired into the nearest dram-shop to conclude the bargain. Every
Saturday evening, Forbes came home by the last train, carrying his
bundle of volumes. He was careful to fumigate them for the purpose of
destroying any microbes, and finally would sprinkle them with _eau de
Cologne_ to make them tolerable to the nose. On Sunday, he enjoyed the
luxury of desultory read