“‘Only fifty,’ I said.
“‘Could I get a set?’
“‘All sold,’ I assured him, ‘but I shall be glad to give these books to you on two conditions.’
“He turned in astonishment.
“‘They can do you no further harm, and my first request is that you do not lend them. My second is that you take them home in my wheelbarrow by daylight with your own hands.’
“He silently demurred.
“‘At last those books have a chance to do some little good in the world, and I don’t want them to lose it,’ I urged. ‘The hands, feet, and legs of the high and low born are slowly being deprived of their rights in this community. Pride is robbing them of their ancient and proper offices. How many of the young men and women of our acquaintance would be seen on the street with a package in their hands, to say nothing of a wheelbarrow? Their souls are above it!’
“‘Why should they carry packages and roll wheelbarrows?’ Harry asked. ‘Stores deliver goods these days.’
“‘That’s one reason why it costs so much 66 to live. We have to pay for our pride and our indolence and the delivery of the goods. It’s all charged in the bill. Some member of the family used to go to market every morning with his basket and carry the goods home with him.’