eans, by no means; the volume is not so large, it won't encumber me
much; I believe I shall find it small enough to put in my pocket,'
pursued the little great man, grinning at the shrewdness of his own
observations, and stalking out with as much self-complacency as he had
stalked in. I knew the man well, and could not help laughing at the
lofty airs he assumed, at the manner in which he affected to decry all
his countrymen without mercy, at his unwillingness to acknowledge
any talent amongst them, though he himself was a man of that plodding
description who neither ever had done, nor ever could do any thing to
entitle him to claim distinction of any sort. The young Coxcomb who next
entered, was a direct contrast to the last applicant, both in person and
manner. Approaching with a fashionable contortion, he stretched out his
lady-like hand, and in the most languid and affected tone imaginable,
inquired for The Idler. "That, Sir," said Margin, "is amongst the works
we have unhappily lost, but you will be sure to meet with it at any of
the fashionable libraries in the neighbourhood of Bond Street or St.
James's." The young Fop had just sense enough to perceive that the shaft
was aimed at him, but not enough to relish the joke, or correct the
follies which provoked it, and turned abruptly on his heel. He was met
at the door by a sentimental boarding-school Miss, who came flying into
the shop in defiance of her governess, and inquired, in a very pathetic
tone, for _The Constant Lover_. "That, I am afraid," said Margin, "is
not amongst our collection." 'Dear me,' lisped the young Lady, with an
air of chagrin, 'that's very provoking, I thought that was what every
one had.' "Give me leave to assure you, Ma'am, that you are quite
mistaken. I fancy you will find that it is not to be met with all over
London."

~188~~An old Gentleman of the old school, whose clothes were decidedly
the cut of the last century, and whose stiff and formal manners were
precisely of the same date with his habiliments, next came hobbling
in. Poring through his spectacles over the catalogue which lay upon the
counter, the first thing which caught his eye, was _An Essay upon Old
Maids_. "Tom, Tom," said the complaisant Librarian, calling to a lad at
the other end of the shop, "reach down the Old Maids for the gentleman.
They won't appear to advantage, I'm afraid, a little dusty or damaged,
with having laid so long upon the shelf," he added, with a simper,