Island with a bump, and saw the obnoxious face of Mr. Snider
looking down at me. The Professor had left the room, though I had
not noticed when he went.

"What is that book, James? Something improving, I trust?"

"It's a fine book," said I.

He took it and looked it over, making a clicking sound of
disapproval with his tongue.

"How much better it would be," he observed, "to read some book of
useful information, or something with a MORAL! Such a book as this
TEACHES you nothing. Couldn't you find anything better?"

I was sorry that the Professor wasn't there, to tell him to shut
up. I had no patience to stay and hear a book of brave adventure
decried by this sanctimonious looking hum-bug,--whose mouth
watered when he talked about old Fillmore and his ninety million
dollars. Fillmore, so everybody said, was so stingy that he cut
his own hair, and went around looking like a fright, rather than
pay a barber. Worse than that, he was hated like fury by all the
people who worked for him because he screwed their wages down to
the lowest possible figure. But Mr. Snider thought him a great
man, and boasted to me of knowing him within ten minutes of the
time we met.

I told Mr. Snider that I was ready to go to bed, if he would show
me where I was to sleep. He led me upstairs, past two or three
rooms, to one in the rear. The floors were all bare, but the rooms