to minimize his risk
as much as possible, took the following barbarous course:--As soon as
he was in possession, he raised the boards of the schoolroom floor, and,
having carefully packed all the books between the joists, had the boards
nailed down again. Little recked he how many rats and mice made their
nests there; he was bound to account some day for every single volume,
and he saw no way so safe as rigid imprisonment.

The late Sir Thomas Phillipps, of Middle Hill, was a remarkable instance
of a bibliotaph. He bought bibliographical treasures simply to bury
them. His mansion was crammed with books; he purchased whole libraries,
and never even saw what he had bought. Among some of his purchases was
the first book printed in the English language, "The Recuyell of the
Histories of Troye," translated and printed by William Caxton, for the
Duchess of Burgundy, sister to our Edward IV. It is true, though almost
incredible, that Sir Thomas could never find this volume, although it
is doubtless still in the collection, and no wonder, when cases of books
bought twenty years before his death were never opened, and the only
knowledge of their contents which he possessed was the Sale Catalogue or
the bookseller's invoice.

CHAPTER X. SERVANTS AND CHILDREN.

READER! are you married? Have you offspring, boys especially I mean, say
between six and twelve years of age? Have you also a literary workshop,
supplied with choice tools, some for use, some for ornament, where you
pass pleasant hours? and is--ah! there's the rub!--is there a special
hand-maid, whose special duty it is to keep your den daily dusted and
in order? Plead you guilty to these indictments? then am I sure of a
sympathetic co-sufferer.

Dust! it is all a delusion. It is not the dust that makes women anxious
to invade the inmost recesses of your Sanctum--it is an ingrained
curiosity. And this feminine weakness, which dates from Eve, is a common
motive in the stories of our oldest literature and Folk-lore. What made
Fatima so anxious to know the contents of the room forbidden her by
Bluebeard? It was positively nothing to her, and its contents caused not
the slightest annoyance to anybody. That story has a bad moral, and it
would, in many ways, have been more satisfactory had the heroine been
left to take her place in the blood-stained chamber, side by side with
her peccant predecessors. Why need the women-folk (God forgive me!)
bother themselves about the