Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He it was who gave me Dumas's Dictionnaire de la Cuisine, the corner-stone of my collection of cookery books a fact in which I see so much of Henley that I feel as if the stranger to him who to-day takes the volume down from my shelves and reads on the fly-leaf the simple inscription, "To E.R.P. d.d.
Taking this up and glancing at its fly-leaf, he saw a name written in spidery German script, almost illegible from its shakiness "Max Lebensfunke." "Your name?" he asked. "Yes, mein Herr," answered the old man, taking the volume and caressing it like a live thing in his fumbling hands. "This book was given to me by the great Kant himself," he added.
On the fly-leaf was written 'Lucien Lesage, and beneath it, in a woman's hand, 'Lucien, from Sibylle. Lesage, then, was the name of my good-looking but sinister acquaintance. It only remained for me now to discover what it was which he had concealed up the chimney.
"Certainly, my lord," answered the lawyer, and the young man went away quite convinced. After he had gone the lawyer produced pen and ink and wrote out the statement, putting in it all the lies that I had told, and copying the extract from the fly-leaf of the Bible.
No wonder I couldn't find one that was sensible. Well, I declare!" The book had opened at the fly-leaf. "Persis from Justin," Susan read, bringing her near-sighted eyes close to the faded ink. She pursed her lips and shook her head in disapproving surprise. "Persis Dale must have known some man pretty well to let him give her anything so pointed.
See how swarthy it is, how squat, with how bullet-proof a cover of scaling leather. Now open the fly-leaf "Ex libris Guilielmi Whyte. 1672" in faded yellow ink. I wonder who William Whyte may have been, and what he did upon earth in the reign of the merry monarch. A pragmatical seventeenth-century lawyer, I should judge, by that hard, angular writing.
My first conversation with him was in his house in Onslow Gardens, and there I very frequently sat for hours with him, and he also presented me with copies of all his books, with an autograph letter on the fly-leaf of each.
"Her things always are choicer and prettier than anybody's else, somehow. I can't think how she does it, when she never by any chance goes into a shop. Who can this be from, I wonder?" "This" was the second little package. It proved to contain a small volume bound in white and gold, entitled, "Advice to Brides." On the fly-leaf appeared this inscription:
It was a German story-book, full of bright coloured pictures; so he saw as he opened it and turned over the leaves, scarcely thinking of what he did, when his eye was suddenly arrested by the inscription on the fly-leaf.
There was a magnificent library, mostly editions de luxe. Thomas smiled over the many uncut volumes. He took out a volume at random and glanced at the fly-leaf "Kitty Killigrew, Smith College." Then he went into the body of the book. It was copiously marked and annotated.
Word Of The Day