The books he chose puzzled and almost shocked the rotatory guardians of his sanctum. Once he picked an enormous volume on Greek mythology, full of pictures and translated passages from Homer and the dramatists.
"You don't want that, Wellander," the teacher said, eying him curiously, when Keith presented the book for registration.
"Yes, I do," replied Keith stoutly, but his heart began to quake at the thought that the cherished volume was going to be denied him.
"Do you mean to say that you intend to read it through?" the teacher persisted.
"Yes, I will," said Keith.
There was a long pause during which the teacher seemed to weigh the book in his hand as if wondering whether its very weight would be too much for the undersized little chap in front of him.
"All right," he said at last, "but I suppose that means you will have reading for the rest of this season."
Keith looked at the book more hopefully, and with hope came courage.
"I'll read it in three weeks," he said.
So he did, too, and when he turned in the book, the same teacher happened to be on duty, recognized him, and began to ask questions. When Keith had proved that the whole Olympian hierarchy was duly installed in his acquisitive brain, the teacher said with an amused but friendly smile: