David did not know much about the north pole or the tropics, but he had certainly bought several volumes of poetry, and Hieronymus' words gave him courage.
"I bought several books of poetry," he said, lifting his head up with a kind of triumph which was unmistakable. "Cowper, Mrs. Hemans--"
"Yes," said Hieronymus patiently.
"And the other day I bought Milton," continued the exciseman.
"Ah," said the historian, with a faint smile of cheerfulness. He had never been able to care for Milton (though he never owned to this).
"And now I thought of buying this," said David, taking from his pocket a small slip of paper and showing it to his companion.
Hieronymus read: "Selections from Robert Browning."
"Come, come!" he said cheerily, "this is a good choice!"
"It is not my choice," said David simply. "I don't know one fellow from another. But the man at the shop in Ludlow told me it was a book to have. If you say so too, of course that settles the matter."
"Well," said Hieronymus, "and what about the other books?"