LIBRARIANS
The Reference Librarian
At times behind a desk he sits,
At times about the room he flits—
Folks interrupt his perfect ease
By asking questions such as these:
"How tall was prehistoric man?"
"How old, I pray, was Sister Ann?"
"Perhaps," commented her husband's bookish friend, "you should be thankful you did not find him with his nose in 'The Inside of the Cup!'"
"What should one do if cats have fits?"
"What woman first invented mitts?"
"Who said 'To labor is to pray?'"
"How much did Daniel Lambert weigh?"
"Don't you admire E. P. Roe?"
"What is the fare to Kokomo?"
"Have you a life of Sairy Gamp?"
"Can you lend me a postage-stamp?"
"Have you the rimes of Edward Lear?"
"What wages do they give you here?"
"What dictionary is the best?"
"Did Brummell wear a satin vest?"
"How do you spell 'anemic,' please?"
"What is a Gorgonzola cheese?"
"Who ferried souls across the Styx?"
"What is the square of 96?"
"Are oysters good to eat in March?"
"Are green bananas full of starch?"
"Where is that book I used to see?"
"I guess you don't remember me?"
"Haf you Der Hohenzollernspiel?"
"Where shall I put this apple peel?"
"Ou est, m'sie, la grand Larousse?"
"Do you say 'two-spot,' or 'the deuce'?"
"Come, find my book—why make a row?"
"A red one—can't you find it now?"
"Please, which is right? to 'lend' or 'loan'?"
"Say, mister, where's the telephone?"
"How do you use this catalog?"
"Oh, hear that noise! Is that my dog?"
"Have you a book called 'Shapes of Fear'?"
"You mind if I leave baby here?"
—Edmund Lester Pearson
It was at the public library. A small shaver clutched a well-worn, dirty volume. At last it came his turn to place his volume for the inspection of the librarian. The suspense was great, but finally the librarian leaned forward. Taking in the size of the boy and then glancing back at the book she remarked, "This is rather technical, isn't it?"
Planting his feet firmly on the floor, the boy, half-defiant, half-apologetic, retorted, "It was that way when I got it, ma'am."
"My husband is a most inveterate reader," exclaimed Mrs. Knox with a slight tone of ennui. "He reads until dawn every morning. Why, last night I found him asleep with his nose in 'V.V.'s Eyes!'"
Toast to Librarians
Said the "maker of books" to the "keeper of books,"
Yours is the task to hold
The choice of the changeable minds of men
To that which is pure gold.
Yours to watch at the ebb and flow
The tides of the public thought—
Flotsam or jetsam floating in
With the treasure genius brought.
For the unperishable dream of the soul lives on,
As the dream of genius must,
When the brain which wrought and the hand that wrote
Are one with the "daisied dust."
And so with reverent hands may you give
To the minds of men in their need,
The written word that's the word worth while,
So keepers of books—God speed!
Do You Believe In Fairies?
The world is full of people
Who are under the impression
That libr'ry work in general
Is the easiest profession.
"Such nice clean work!" says So-and-So,
"And such nice hours too!"
"Why, really now," exclaims a girl,
"I don't see what you do."
"Just sitting reading all the books
'Most all the livelong day.
Don't tell me now that just for this
The city gives you pay!"
And no one ever stops to think
Why it's so quiet there.
While they're just sitting at their ease
In some nice easy chair.
And how the books got on the shelves
In just the right, right place,
Nor how the "chief" keeps track of each,
And with a smiling face.
Oh, mercy no, they seem to think
Some fairy passed that way
With books from many publishers
And when she'd said, "Good day,"
She catalogued them in a night,
And with a bit of glue,
Stuck in the pages that were loose,
And mended old ones too.
And that she dusted all the shelves,
And kept the records straight;
So when the year came to an end,
She would not be too late
In handing in a full report
Of just what had been done.
(And "full" comprises everything
That's underneath the sun).
Oh yes, you'll find them everywhere,
Deluded as can be
In thinking libr'ry work's a "cinch,"
And looking longingly
At someone's "easy libr'ry job"
"With not a thing to do!"
But tell me, do you libr'yites
Believe in fairies too?
—H.I.B. in the Use of Print.
A certain woman who came in to take out a card, upon being told she must give the name of a friend as reference said, "Why, I have no friends. I was a librarian."
See also Books and reading.