the haunted bookshop(闹鬼的书店)-第3章
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they know something about it already。 The young man had heard of none
of these books prescribed by the practitioner of bibliotherapy。 He was
about to open the door when Mifflin appeared at his side。
〃Look here；〃 he said； with a quaint touch of embarrassment。 〃I was
very much interested by our talk。 I'm all alone this evening my wife is
away on a holiday。 Won't you stay and have supper with me？ I was just
looking up some new recipes when you came in。〃
The other was equally surprised and pleased by this unusual invitation。
〃Whythat's very good of you；〃 he said。 〃Are you sure I won't be
intruding？〃
〃Not at all！〃 cried the bookseller。 〃I detest eating alone： I was hoping
someone would drop in。 I always try to have a guest for supper when my
wife is away。 I have to stay at home； you see； to keep an eye on the shop。
We have no servant； and I do the cooking myself。 It's great fun。 Now
you light your pipe and make yourself comfortable for a few minutes
while I get things ready。 Suppose you come back to my den。〃
On a table of books at the front of the shop Mifflin laid a large card
lettered：
PROPRIETOR AT SUPPER IF YOU WANT ANYTHING RING
THIS BELL
Beside the card he placed a large old…fashioned dinner bell； and then
led the way to the rear of the shop。
Behind the little office in which this unusual merchant had been
studying his cookbook a narrow stairway rose on each side； running up to
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
the gallery。 Behind these stairs a short flight of steps led to the domestic
recesses。 The visitor found himself ushered into a small room on the left；
where a grate of coals glowed under a dingy mantelpiece of yellowish
marble。 On the mantel stood a row of blackened corn…cob pipes and a
canister of tobacco。 Above was a startling canvas in emphatic oils；
representing a large blue wagon drawn by a stout white animal evidently
a horse。 A background of lush scenery enhanced the forceful technique
of the limner。 The walls were stuffed with books。 Two shabby；
comfortable chairs were drawn up to the iron fender； and a mustard…
coloured terrier was lying so close to the glow that a smell of singed hair
was sensible。
〃There；〃 said the host； 〃this is my cabinet； my chapel of ease。 Take off
your coat and sit down。〃
〃Really；〃 began Gilbert； 〃I'm afraid this is〃
〃Nonsense！ Now you sit down and commend your soul to
Providence and the kitchen stove。 I'll bustle round and get supper。〃
Gilbert pulled out his pipe； and with a sense of elation prepared to enjoy
an unusual evening。 He was a young man of agreeable parts； amiable
and sensitive。 He knew his disadvantages in literary conversation； for he
had gone to an excellent college where glee clubs and theatricals had left
him little time for reading。 But still he was a lover of good books； though
he knew them chiefly by hearsay。 He was twenty…five years old；
employed as a copywriter by the Grey…Matter Advertising Agency。
The little room in which he found himself was plainly the bookseller's
sanctum； and contained his own private library。 Gilbert browsed along the
shelves curiously。 The volumes were mostly shabby and bruised； they
had evidently been picked up one by one in the humble mangers of the
second…hand vendor。 They all showed marks of use and meditation。
Mr。 Gilbert had the earnest mania for self…improvement which has
blighted the lives of so many young mena passion which； however； is
commendable in those who feel themselves handicapped by a college
career and a jewelled fraternity emblem。 It suddenly struck him that it
would be valuable to make a list of some of the titles in Mifflin's
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
collection； as a suggestion for his own reading。 He took out a
memorandum book and began jotting down the books that intrigued him：
The Works of Francis Thompson （3 vols。） Social History of Smoking：
Apperson The Path to Rome： Hilaire Belloc The Book of Tea： Kakuzo
Happy Thoughts： F。 C。 Burnand Dr。 Johnson's Prayers and Meditations
Margaret Ogilvy： J。 M。 Barrie Confessions of a Thug： Taylor General
Catalogue of the Oxford University Press The Morning's War： C 。 E。
Montague The Spirit of Man： edited by Robert Bridges The Romany
Rye： Borrow Poems： Emily Dickinson Poems： George Herbert The
House of Cobwebs： George Gissing
So far had he got； and was beginning to say to himself that in the
interests of Advertising （who is a jealous mistress） he had best call a halt；
when his host entered the room； his small face eager； his eyes blue points
of light。
〃Come； Mr。 Aubrey Gilbert！〃 he cried。 〃The meal is set。 You want to
wash your hands？ Make haste then； this way： the eggs are hot and
waiting。〃
The dining room into which the guest was conducted betrayed a
feminine touch not visible in the smoke…dimmed quarters of shop and
cabinet。 At the windows were curtains of laughing chintz and pots of pink
geranium。 The table； under a drop…light in a flame…coloured silk screen；
was brightly set with silver and blue china。 In a cut…glass decanter
sparkled a ruddy brown wine。 The edged tool of Advertising felt his
spirits undergo an unmistakable upward pressure。
〃Sit down； sir；〃 said Mifflin； lifting the roof of a platter。 〃These are
eggs Samuel Butler； an invention of my own； the apotheosis of hen fruit。〃
Gilbert greeted the invention with applause。 An Egg Samuel Butler；
for the notebook of housewives； may be summarized as a pyramid； based
upon toast； whereof the chief masonries are a flake of bacon； an egg
poached to firmness； a wreath of mushrooms； a cap…sheaf of red peppers；
the whole dribbled with a warm pink sauce of which the inventor retains
the secret。 To this the bookseller chef added fried potatoes from another
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THE HAUNTED BOOKSHOP
dish； and poured for his guest a glass of wine。
〃This is California catawba；〃 said Mifflin； 〃in which the grape and the
sunshine very pleasantly （and cheaply） fulfil their allotted destiny。 I pledge
you prosperity to the black art of Advertising！〃
The psychology of the art and mystery of Advertising rests upon tact；
an instinctive perception of the tone and accent which will be en rapport
with the mood of the hearer。 Mr。 Gilbert was aware of this； and felt that
quite possibly his host was prouder of his whimsical avocation as gourmet
than of his sacred profession as a bookman。
〃Is it possible； sir；〃 he began； in lucid Johnsonian； 〃that you can
concoct so delicious an entree in so few
