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Half of the little table by which she sat was piled high with books old books, evidently well read and well-bred books, classics of fiction and verse every one of them, and all bearing on the flyleaf the name of Sidney Richmond, thereby meaning not the girl at the table, but her college-bred young father who had died the day before she was born.
On the flyleaf of an old copy of that book this unlearned lawyer accordingly wrote out some resolutions of protest which he showed to his friends, George Johnston and John Fleming, for their approval. Their approval once obtained, Mr. Johnston moved, with Mr.
Her mother had died the day after, and Sidney thereupon had come into the hands of good Aunt Jane, with those books for her dowry, since nothing else was left after the expenses of the double funeral had been paid. One of the books had Sidney Richmond's name printed on the title-page instead of written on the flyleaf.
"See, here is her name on the flyleaf of the Bible, written with her own hand, too: `To my dear March, from his loving mother, Mary Marston, Pine Point settlement. Isn't it a good round hand o' write?" "Very pritty," replied Mary.
Indeed, he often wonders if anybody ever reads his writings, because he knows that his best friends never do. But very soon this tender sentiment is disrupted. There comes a sudden resurrection of the rocking-chair brigade, a rush of readers with uplifted fountain-pens, and a general request for the author's autograph upon the flyleaf of his volume.
There, on the western front, he was killed trying to carry a message between battalions under heavy artillery fire. We are told that on his body was found a diary. On the flyleaf under the heading, "My Pledge," he had written these words: "America must win this war.
"Look how yellow the paper is, and there are actually long S's. Someone has scribbled notes all round the edges of the pages." "I wonder if it was Sir Giles Courtenay?" said Lindsay. Cicely turned to the flyleaf at the beginning. Yes, in exactly the same rather straggling hand was the inscription: "GILES PEMBERTON COURTENAY, HAVERSLEIGH MANOR, SOMERSET."
Every one in the Joll household gave him a small present on his leaving. Lizzie's was a New Testament, with her name on the flyleaf, and under it, "Converted April 19, 187-." Taffy did not want the gift, but took it rather than hurt her feelings. Farmer Joll said, "Well, wish 'ee well! Been pretty comfiable, I hope. Now you'm goin', I don't mind telling 'ee I didn't like your coming a bit.
He greeted her politely; threw a hasty glance around the court to see if he was observed, and then tossed her book dexterously over into her hands. "I have pinned the written exercise to the flyleaf," he said. "You will probably have time to copy it before breakfast." "I am ever so much obliged to you," she managed to stammer.
Hemans and of Adelaide Anne Procter, a carefully expurgated edition of Shakespeare, with an inscription in the rector's handwriting on the flyleaf; Miss Strickland's "Lives of the Queens of England"; and several works of fiction belonging to the class which Mrs. Pendleton vaguely characterized as "sweet stories."
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