York, always in delightful homes. Had a class of married ladies at the
home of Dr. J.G. Holland, where I gave an idea of the newest books.
Doctor Holland gave me a department, "Bric-à-brac," in his
magazine--_Scribner's Magazine_; and I was honoured by a request from
the editors of the _Galaxy_ to take the "Club Room" from which Mark
Twain had just resigned. Meeting him soon after at a dinner, he said
with his characteristic drawl: "Awful solemn, ain't it, having to be
funny every month; worse than a funeral." I started a class in my own
apartment to save time for ladies who wanted to know about the most
interesting books as they were published, but whose constant
engagements made it impossible to read them entirely for themselves. I
suggested to the best publishers to send me copies of their
attractive publications which I would read, condense, and then talk
them over with these friends. All were glad to aid me. Their books
were piled on my piano and tables, and many were sold. I want to say
that such courtesy was a rare compliment. I used to go to various book
stores, asking permission to look over books at a special reading
table, and never met a refusal. I fear in these days of aiding the war
sufferers, and keeping our bodies limber and free from rheumatism by
daily dancing, this plan would not find patrons.

I was often "browsing," as they call it, at the Mercantile Library. At
first I would sit down and give the names of volumes desired. That
took too long. At last I was allowed to go where I liked and take what
I wanted. I sent a pair of handsome slippers at Christmas to the man
who had been my special servitor. He wrote me how he admired them and
wished he could wear them, but alas! his feet had both been worn to a
stub long ago from such continuous running and climbing to satisfy my
seldom-satisfied needs. He added that several of the errand boys had
become permanently crippled from over-exertion. I then understood why