n book." He goes to the book-stores They haven't
it. It is out of stock, out of print. The only available copies are
those in the libraries, where they are supposed to be ready for every
one's use; and would be, too, but for the architects and their effete
barricades.

This very thing happened to me last winter. I needed a book. As I was
unable to climb into the Public Library, I asked one of my friends to
go. He was a young man whose legs had not yet been worn out and ruined
by architects. He reported that the book I wanted was on the reference
shelves, and could not be taken out. If I could get in, I could read it
all I wanted to, but not even the angels could bring it outside to me.

We went down there and took a look at the rampart which would have to be
mounted. That high wall of steps! I tried with his assistance to climb
them, but had to give up.

He said there was a side entrance. We went there, but there, too, we
found steps.

"After you once get inside, there is an elevator," the doorkeeper said.

Isn't that just like an architect! To make everything inside as perfect
as possible, and then keep you out!

There's a legend that a lame man once tried to get in the back way.
There are no steps there, hence pedestrians are not admitted. It's a
delivery entrance for trucks. So this man had himself delivered there in
a packing case, disguised as the Memoirs of Josephine, and let them haul
him all the way upstairs before he revealed he was not. But it seems
they turn those cases upside down and every which way in handling them,
and he had to be taken to the hospital. He said it was like going over
Niagara.

If there must be a test imposed on every one who enters a library, have
a brain test, and keep out all readers who are weak in the head. No
matter how good their legs are, if their brains aren't first-rate, keep
'em out. But, instead, we impose a leg test, every day of the year, on
all comers. We let in the brainless without any examination at all, and
shut out the most scholarly persons unless they have legs like an
antelope's.

If an explorer told us of some tribe that did this, we'd smile at their
ways, and think they had something to learn before they could call
themselves civilized.

There are especially lofty steps built around the Metropolitan Museum,
which either repel or tire out visitors before they get in. Of those who
do finally arrive at the doors, up on top, many never have enough
strength