The Haunted Bookshop | Page 7

at me when I tell you that I
have evolved a whole kitchen philosophy of my own. I find the kitchen
the shrine of our civilization, the focus of all that is comely in life. The
ruddy shine of the stove is as beautiful as any sunset. A well-polished
jug or spoon is as fair, as complete and beautiful, as any sonnet. The
dish mop, properly rinsed and wrung and hung outside the back door to
dry, is a whole sermon in itself. The stars never look so bright as they
do from the kitchen door after the ice-box pan is emptied and the whole
place is 'redd up,' as the Scotch say."
"A very delightful philosophy indeed," said Gilbert. "And now that we
have finished our meal, I insist upon your letting me give you a hand
with the washing up. I am eager to test this dish-pantheism of yours!"
"My dear fellow," said Mifflin, laying a restraining hand on his
impetuous guest, "it is a poor philosophy that will not abide denial now
and then. No, no--I did not ask you to spend the evening with me to
wash dishes." And he led the way back to his sitting room.
"When I saw you come in," said Mifflin, "I was afraid you might be a
newspaper man, looking for an interview. A young journalist came to
see us once, with very unhappy results. He wheedled himself into Mrs.

Mifflin's good graces, and ended by putting us both into a book, called
Parnassus on Wheels, which has been rather a trial to me. In that book
he attributes to me a number of shallow and sugary observations upon
bookselling that have been an annoyance to the trade. I am happy to say,
though, that his book had only a trifling sale."
"I have never heard of it," said Gilbert.
"If you are really interested in bookselling you should come here some
evening to a meeting of the Corn Cob Club. Once a month a number of
booksellers gather here and we discuss matters of bookish concern over
corn-cobs and cider. We have all sorts and conditions of booksellers:
one is a fanatic on the subject of libraries. He thinks that every public
library should be dynamited. Another thinks that moving pictures will
destroy the book trade. What rot! Surely everything that arouses
people's minds, that makes them alert and questioning, increases their
appetite for books."
"The life of a bookseller is very demoralizing to the intellect," he went
on after a pause. "He is surrounded by innumerable books; he cannot
possibly read them all; he dips into one and picks up a scrap from
another. His mind gradually fills itself with miscellaneous flotsam, with
superficial opinions, with a thousand half-knowledges. Almost
unconsciously he begins to rate literature according to what people ask
for. He begins to wonder whether Ralph Waldo Trine isn't really
greater than Ralph Waldo Emerson, whether J. M. Chapple isn't as big
a man as J. M. Barrie. That way lies intellectual suicide.
"One thing, however, you must grant the good bookseller. He is
tolerant. He is patient of all ideas and theories. Surrounded, engulfed by
the torrent of men's words, he is willing to listen to them all. Even to
the publisher's salesman he turns an indulgent ear. He is willing to be
humbugged for the weal of humanity. He hopes unceasingly for good
books to be born.
"My business, you see, is different from most. I only deal in
second-hand books; I only buy books that I consider have some honest
reason for existence. In so far as human judgment can discern, I try to
keep trash out of my shelves. A doctor doesn't traffic in quack remedies.
I don't traffic in bogus books.
"A comical thing happened the other day. There is a certain wealthy
man, a Mr. Chapman, who has long frequented this shop----"

"I wonder if that could be Mr. Chapman of the Chapman Daintybits
Company?" said Gilbert, feeling his feet touch familiar soil.
"The same, I believe," said Mifflin. "Do you know him?"
"Ah," cried the young man with reverence. "There is a man who can
tell you the virtues of advertising. If he is interested in books, it is
advertising that made it possible. We handle all his copy-- I've written a
lot of it myself. We have made the Chapman prunes a staple of
civilization and culture. I myself devised that slogan 'We preen
ourselves on our prunes' which you see in every big magazine.
Chapman prunes are known the world over. The Mikado eats them
once a week. The Pope eats them. Why, we have just heard that thirteen
cases of them are to be put on board the George Washington for the
President's voyage to the peace Conference.