. "I wish _I_ could find a maid like that,"
thought a prosperous Brooklyn housewife on her way to market. "I must
ring her up some day and find out how much she gets."

Roger brought out armfuls of books while Titania dusted.

"One of the reasons I'm awfully glad you've come here to help me," he
said, "is that I'll be able to get out more. I've been so tied down by
the shop, I haven't had a chance to scout round, buy up libraries, make
bids on collections that are being sold, and all that sort of thing.
My stock is running a bit low. If you just wait for what comes in, you
don't get much of the really good stuff."

Titania was polishing a copy of The Late Mrs. Null. "It must be
wonderful to have read so many books," she said. "I'm afraid I'm not a
very deep reader, but at any rate Dad has taught me a respect for good
books. He gets so mad because when my friends come to the house, and
he asks them what they've been reading, the only thing they seem to
know about is Dere Mable."

Roger chuckled. "I hope you don't think I'm a mere highbrow," he said.
"As a customer said to me once, without meaning to be funny, 'I like
both the Iliad and the Argosy.' The only thing I can't stand is
literature that is unfairly and intentionally flavoured with vanilla.
Confectionery soon disgusts the palate, whether you find it in Marcus
Aurelius or Doctor Crane. There's an odd aspect of the matter that
sometimes strikes me: Doc Crane's remarks are just as true as Lord
Bacon's, so how is it that the Doctor puts me to sleep in a paragraph,
while my Lord's essays keep me awake all night?"

Titania, being unacquainted with these philosophers, pursued the
characteristic feminine course of clinging to the subject on which she
was informed. The undiscerning have called this habit of mind
irrelevant, but wrongly. The feminine intellect leaps like a
grasshopper; the masculine plods as the ant.

"I see there's a new Mable book coming," she said. "It's called That's
Me All Over Mable, and the newsstand clerk at the Octagon says he
expects to sell a thousand copies."

"Well, there's a meaning in that," said Roger. "People have a craving
to be amused, and I'm sure I don't blame 'em. I'm afraid I haven't
read Dere Mable. If it's really amusing, I'm glad they read it. I
suspect it isn't a very great book, because a Philadelphia schoolgirl
has written a reply to it called Dere Bill, which is said to be as good
as the original. Now