and the contents placed in a special compartment. They are then
catalogued, each item being separately handled. Another clerk then
arranges them for exhibition on the shelves, where they remain until
the time of sale. During the sale, they are again exhibited, and
handled, and after it are laid aside in groups, according to their
newly acquired ownership. When shipment is made the following day, or
later, another handling is required. No scheme can be devised that
will admit of less than four handlings of the entire lot. When we
consider that in some establishments nearly a million separate items
are received and sold each season, some idea may be formed of the
labor involved.

The auctioneer has been obliged to either adapt his business to modern
conditions, even though it entails heavy expense and added burdens, or
take a rear place in the procession. Business cannot be transacted now
as it was even five years ago, though many attempt to do it by the
antiquated methods of the times "befo' de war." More books are sold
by auction each successive year; and with the wonderful progress being
made in the literary development of this great country, it is likely
that the auctioneer will become in the near future an even more
important factor in the formation and dissemination of libraries than
ever before.

The following extract from a magazine article on "The Book Auction,"
written years ago by Joel Benton, may be deemed a fitting conclusion.
He said:--

"In no one place are there so many eager patrons of the book
auction as in New York. Here are men who can give thousands
of dollars for a single book, if they choose, and add it to
an already extremely valuable collection.

"It is pleasant to see these men and their representatives
sitting in the auction room, and poring, over their
catalogues. There are times when they must not be disturbed,
or spoken to. Great issues depend upon their utmost
attention. Not Izaak Walton, the many rare editions of whose
one great book they rapturously fish for, ever fished more
intently for trout and grayling than they for the beauties
of thought and of the printer's art.

"No idyls of the brook call your chronic book buyer to bask
in green meadows, and under cerulean skies while the auction
season lasts. The pine floor, the gaslight, and the voice of
the auctioneer hold him. His house may overflow with