the haunted bookshop(闹鬼的书店)-第35章
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torments him？ Behind every smiling mask is there not some cryptic
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grimace of pain？ Henry Adams puts it tersely。 He says the human mind
appears suddenly and inexplicably out of some unknown and
unimaginable void。 It passes half its known life in the mental chaos of
sleep。 Even when awake it is a victim of its own ill…adjustment； of disease；
of age； of external suggestion； of nature's compulsions； it doubts its own
sensations and trusts only in instruments and averages。 After sixty years or
so of growing astonishment the mind wakes to find itself looking blankly
into the void of death。 And； as Adams says； that it should profess itself
pleased by this performance is all that the highest rules of good breeding
can ask。 That the mind should actually be satisfied would prove that it
exists only as idiocy！
I hope that you will write to tell me along what curves your mind is
moving。 For my own part I feel that we are on the verge of amazing
things。 Long ago I fell back on books as the only permanent consolers。
They are the one stainless and unimpeachable achievement of the human
race。 It saddens me to think that I shall have to die with thousands of
books unread that would have given me noble and unblemished happiness。
I will tell you a secret。 I have never read King Lear； and have purposely
refrained from doing so。 If I were ever very ill I would only need to say to
myself 〃You can't die yet； you haven't read Lear。〃 That would bring me
round； I know it would。
You see； books are the answer to all our perplexities！ Henry Adams
grinds his teeth at his inability to understand the universe。 The best he can
do is to suggest a 〃law of acceleration；〃 which seems to mean that Nature
is hustling man along at an ever…increasing rate so that he will either solve
all her problems or else die of fever in the effort。 But Adams' candid
portrait of a mind grappling helplessly with its riddles is so triumphantly
delightful that one forgets the futility of the struggle in the accuracy of the
picture。 Man is unconquerable because he can make even his helplessness
so entertaining。 His motto seems to be 〃Even though He slay me； yet
will I make fun of Him！〃
Yes； books are man's supreme triumph； for they gather up and transmit
all other triumphs。 As Walter de la Mare writes； 〃How
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uncomprehendingly must an angel from heaven smile on a poor human
sitting engrossed in a romance： angled upon his hams； motionless in his
chair； spectacles on nose； his two feet as close together as the flukes of a
merman's tail； only his strange eyes stirring in his time…worn face。〃
Well； I've been scribbling away all this time and haven't given you any
news whatever。 Helen came back the other day from a visit to Boston
where she enjoyed herself greatly。 To…night she has gone out to the
movies with a young protegee of ours； Miss Titania Chapman； an
engaging damsel whom we have taken in as an apprentice bookseller。 It's a
quaint idea； done at the request of her father； Mr。 Chapman； the proprietor
of Chapman's Daintybits which you see advertised everywhere。 He is a
great booklover； and is very eager to have the zeal transmitted to his
daughter。 So you can imagine my glee to have a neophyte of my own to
preach books at！ Also it will enable me to get away from the shop a little
more。 I had a telephone call from Philadelphia this afternoon asking me to
go over there on Monday evening to make an estimate of the value of a
private collection that is to be sold。 I was rather flattered because I can't
imagine how they got hold of my name。
Forgive this long； incoherent scrawl。 How did you like Erewhon？ It's
pretty near closing time and I must say grace over the day's accounts。
Yours ever；ROGER MIFFLIN。
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Chapter X
Roger Raids the Ice…Box
Roger had just put Carlyle's Cromwell back in its proper place in the
History alcove when Helen and Titania returned from the movies。 Bock；
who had been dozing under his master's chair； rose politely and wagged a
deferential tail。
〃I do think Bock has the darlingest manners；〃 said Titania。
〃Yes；〃 said Helen； 〃it's really a marvel that his wagging muscles aren't
all worn out； he has abused them so。〃
〃Well；〃 said Roger； 〃did you have a good time？〃
〃An adorable time！〃 cried Titania； with a face and voice so sparkling
that two musty habitues of the shop popped their heads out of the alcoves
marked ESSAYS and THEOLOGY and peered in amazement。 One of
these even went so far as to purchase the copy of Leigh Hunt's Wishing
Cap Papers he had been munching through； in order to have an excuse to
approach the group and satisfy his bewildered eyes。 When Miss Chapman
took the book and wrapped it up for him； his astonishment was made
complete。
Unconscious that she was actually creating business； Titania resumed。
〃We met your friend Mr。 Gilbert on the street；〃 she said； 〃and he went
to the movies with us。 He says he's coming in on Monday to fix the
furnace while you're away。〃
〃Well；〃 said Roger； 〃these advertising agencies are certainly
enterprising； aren't they？ Think of sending a man over to attend to my
furnace； just on the slim chance of getting my advertising account。〃
〃Did you have a quiet evening？〃 said Helen。
〃I spent most of the time writing to Andrew；〃 said Roger。 〃One
amusing thing happened； though。 I actually sold that copy of Philip
Dru。〃
〃No！〃 cried Helen。
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〃A fact；〃 said Roger。 〃A man was looking at it； and I told him it was
supposed to be written by Colonel House。 He insisted on buying it。 But
what a sell when he tries to read it！〃
〃Did Colonel House really write it？〃 asked Titania。
〃I don't know；〃 said Roger。 〃I hope not； because I find in myself a
secret tendency to believe that Mr。 House is an able man。 If he did write it；
I devoutly hope none of the foreign statesmen in Paris will learn of that
fact。〃
While Helen and Titania took off their wraps； Roger was busy closing
up the shop。 He went down to the corner with Bock to mail his letter；
and when he returned to the den Helen had prepared a large jug of cocoa。
They sat down by the fire to enjoy it。
〃Chesterton has written a very savage poem against cocoa；〃 said Roger；
〃which you will find in The Flying Inn； but for my part I find it the ideal
evening drink。 It lets the mind down gently； and paves the way for
slumber。 I have often noticed that the most terrific philosophical agonies
can be allayed by three cups of Mrs。 Mifflin's cocoa。 A man can safely
read Schopenhauer all evening if he has a ta
