“For educational purposes,” said the Academic Lion.
“To catch the eye,” said the Magazine Lion, “same as head-lines in a newspaper.”
“I see,” exclaimed Diana. “You are here to keep the people from getting at the books? How modern!”
This remark made the Academic Lion look like a Sphinx, as if he knew something but did not want to tell. But the Magazine Lion was distinctly flattered.
“Right you are,” said he cheerfully, “or next door to it. We don't propose to keep the people out, only the authors. Why, when this place was publicly opened there was not a single author in the exhibit, except John Bigelow.”
“Why did you not keep him out?” asked Diana.
“We were not on the spot, then,” said the Lion. “Besides, there are some things that even a Lion does not dare to do.”
“But I do not understand,” said Diana, “precisely why authors should be kept away from a library.”
The Magazine Lion laughed. “Silly little thing!” he said, with a fascinating tone of virile condescension. “An author's business is to write books, not to read them. If he reads, he grows intelligent and thoughtful and careful about his work. Those old books spoil him for the modern market. But if he just goes ahead and writes whatever comes into his head, he can do it with a bang, and everybody sits up and pays attention. That's the only way to be original. See?”
“Excuse me,” broke in the Academic Lion, “but you go too far, brother. Authors should be encouraged to read, but only under critical guidance and professorial direction. Otherwise they will not be able to classify the books, and tabulate their writers, and know which ones to admire and praise. How can you expect a mere author to comprehend the faulty method of Shakespeare, or the ethical commonplaceness of Dickens and Thackeray, or the vital Ibsenism of Bernard Shaw and the other near-Ibsens, without assistance?”