o
visit all the bookshops almost daily, his inquiry being, 'Have you any
women for me to-day?' Mr. Stainforth, who died in September, 1866, was
for many years curate of Camden Church, Camberwell, and was from 1851
incumbent of All Hallow's, Staining, the stipend of which was about
L560, and the population about 400. 'Bless my books--all my Bible books,
all my _hocus pocus_, and all my _leger-de-main_ books, and all my other
books, whether particularly mentioned at this time or not,' was the
prayer of a Scotsman of about a century and a quarter ago, and so
perhaps the Rev. Mr. Stainforth thought, if he did not utter
occasionally some such petition.[xxix-A]

Half a century ago one of the most inveterate frequenters of
book-auctions was a certain Dr. G., of diminutive stature, on account of
an awkward deviation of the spine. At that time the appearance of a
private purchaser at a sale was a very rare event, and one which, when
it occurred, invariably met with a more or less hostile reception from
the fraternity. Dr. G.'s first appearance produced a good deal of
sensation. The hunchback, it is true, was rather shabbily dressed, but
'l'habit ne fait pas le moine,' and is certainly no trustworthy index to
the pockets of the wearer. Excitement reached fever-heat when a Wynkyn
de Worde was put up and persistently contested for by the doctor, who
ran it up against the booksellers present (some of whom quickly desisted
from the fun for fear of burning their fingers), one of whom, far
exceeding his commission, obstinately refused to give in until the book
was knocked down to him to his own dismay, and the delight and ironical
compliments of his colleagues. After this _contretemps_ the doctor had
it pretty much his own way; his name was duly entered on the sale
catalogue, and his address was known. The next day our bookseller,
sobered by reflection, called on the doctor, confessed his sin of the
previous day, humbly asked for absolution, and offered him the book at
an immense loss on the sale price. 'If you were,' replied the doctor,
'to bring the book at my door for nothing, I would take it with a pair
of tongs and drop it into the gutter.' It was a puzzle to everyone what
the little doctor did with all his purchases, which were limited chiefly
to classical books. At his death, however, it transpired that he bought
for the various Universities of the United Kingdom. The doctor's son, a
poor curate, entered his late father's librar