e other way.

One who loves the English tongue can have a lot of fun with a Latin
dictionary.

ROGER MIFFLIN.

Human beings pay very little attention to what is told them unless they
know something about it already. The young man had heard of none of
these books prescribed by the practitioner of bibliotherapy. He was
about to open the door when Mifflin appeared at his side.

"Look here," he said, with a quaint touch of embarrassment. "I was
very much interested by our talk. I'm all alone this evening--my wife
is away on a holiday. Won't you stay and have supper with me? I was
just looking up some new recipes when you came in."

The other was equally surprised and pleased by this unusual invitation.

"Why--that's very good of you," he said. "Are you sure I won't be
intruding?"

"Not at all!" cried the bookseller. "I detest eating alone: I was
hoping someone would drop in. I always try to have a guest for supper
when my wife is away. I have to stay at home, you see, to keep an eye
on the shop. We have no servant, and I do the cooking myself. It's
great fun. Now you light your pipe and make yourself comfortable for a
few minutes while I get things ready. Suppose you come back to my den."

On a table of books at the front of the shop Mifflin laid a large card
lettered:

PROPRIETOR AT SUPPER
IF YOU WANT ANYTHING
RING THIS BELL

Beside the card he placed a large old-fashioned dinner bell, and then
led the way to the rear of the shop.

Behind the little office in which this unusual merchant had been
studying his cook-book a narrow stairway rose on each side, running up
to the gallery. Behind these stairs a short flight of steps led to the
domestic recesses. The visitor found himself ushered into a small room
on the left, where a grate of coals glowed under a dingy mantelpiece of
yellowish marble. On the mantel stood a row of blackened corn-cob
pipes and a canister of tobacco. Above was a startling canvas in
emphatic oils, representing a large blue wagon drawn by a stout white
animal--evidently a horse. A background of lush scenery enhanced the
forceful technique of the limner. The walls were stuffed with books.
Two shabby, comfortable chairs were drawn up to the iron fender, and a
mustard-coloured terrier was lying so close to the glow that a smell of
singed hair was sensible.

"There," said the host; "this is my cabinet, my cha