He had sent me one, and I took it from my pocket and read it over again.
"The Public Library of East Caraway," it said, "requests the honor of your presence at the opening of its Literary-Zoölogical Annex, Thursday, September 1st, at ten o'clock a.m."
"We have to set that hour," Mr. Gooch explained, "because the animals are so much brighter then. In the afternoon they get sleepy, and at four o'clock, which is feeding time, they are noisy and quarrelsome. But come, we will go and inspect them."
He rose and led the way out of his office. We went through the delivery room, where a dozen or twenty people were waiting for books, and out through the stacks to the door of the big wooden annex. Mr. Gooch drew a bunch of keys from his pocket and unfastened the padlock.
"Of course you understand," said he, as he pushed back the heavy doors, "there are still very many empty cages. Our collection is about one-fifth what we hope to have in two years. It is slow work, and most of the specimens are obtained only after long research and difficult negotiation. Some owners of the most desirable animals hold them at prices absolutely prohibitive to a library like ours. I could tell you of haggling and bargaining that we have done! Well, you would never believe, for instance, what the owner of the horse who brought the news from Ghent to Aix wants for him, and as for Circe's swine—there are only two of them extant now—they might be made of pure gold, those pigs! But we have enough animals to make a respectable showing on opening day, I think, and I believe the collection will be decidedly educational in its effects."
Mr. Gooch has a firmer trust in the educational value of many things than I have been able to share, but I looked forward with great interest to this first view of his animals.
"This section is devoted to birds," said Mr. Gooch; "that swan floating around on the pool is the one who was once an ugly duckling; the cockatoo on the perch belonged to Count Fosco; and the red bird is, of course, the Kentucky Cardinal.
"One moment," I interposed, "how do you classify your animals? Not by authors, I take it?"
Mr. Gooch looked a little embarrassed. "Well, no," he admitted; "it was a very painful thing, for as a librarian I naturally wished to do everything according to library methods. But it was absolutely impossible. We tried it, and we had some harrowing experiences."
Mr. Gooch wiped his brow with his handkerchief.