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He read the names of the novels on the bookstall, and bought one at last, to avoid being regarded with suspicion by the book-stall clerk. It was called "The Heart of the Trail" which must mean something, though it did not seem to. He also bought "The Lady's Mirror" and "The Landsman." Every minute was an hour long, and full of horrid imaginings.
The shop-boys in the Palais Royal were already taking down the shutters the great book-stall at the end of the Galerie Vitrée showed signs of wakefulness; and in the Place du Louvre there was already a detachment of brisk little foot-soldiers at drill.
Meanwhile, Oliver Twist, little dreaming that he was within so very short a distance of the merry old gentleman, was on his way to the book-stall.
He was aware that this was an abrupt way of approaching the subject, but, after all, he did want to buy the paper, so why not say so? Mr. Petheram fizzed in his chair. He glowed with excitement. "Do you mean to tell me there's a single book-stall in London which has sold out? Great Scott, perhaps they've all sold out! How many did you try?" "I mean buy the whole paper.
If, then, one is to formulate an ideal toward which to write, he might express it exactly in terms of man and environment. Those readers desiring sheer exploration can get it in any library: those in search of sheer romantic adventure can purchase plenty of it at any book-stall. But the majority want something different from either of these.
'In the winter of 1879-80 I set up a book-stall, with a Chinaman to care for it, at the Outside Lodging, going myself, as a rule, every second day.
It was an event of capital importance in the history of Browning's mind when probably in his thirteenth year he lighted, in exploring a book-stall, upon a copy of one of the pirated editions of Shelley's Queen Mab and other poems.
Michael's book-stall, while the good ship went ploughing on, past wooden villages, brown houses picked out with white, and perhaps here and there a little orange-frocked child giving a characteristic dash of colour. Then, as the sun sank lower, the most gorgeous hues came into the sky.
We were a little surprised, therefore, the other day, to pick up at a book-stall in Nassau Street a work entitled: "The North Carolina Reader, Number III. Prepared with Special Reference to the Wants and Interests of North Carolina. Under the Auspices of the Superintendent of Common Schools. Containing Selections in Prose and Verse. By C.H. Wiley. New York: A.S. Barnes and Burr."
But, on examining the dusty cartoons of the old book-stall, the police discovered nothing except a prodigious quantity of grotesque verses directed against the Piedmontese and the French, against the Germans and the Triple Alliance, against the Italian republicans and the ministers, against Cavour and Signor Crispi, against the University of Rome and the Inquisition, against the monks and the capitalists!
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