"Never mind," Caleb replied.
"Please go on, Caleb," Grace begged.
"I may be a fool," said Caleb, "but it does gall me to be laughed at ahead of time."
"Really, Caleb, we weren't laughing at you. Both of us chanced to think, at the same time, of something—something that we had read. Some husbands and wives have a way of both getting the same thought at an unforeseen instant. Do go on; haven't we proved to you that we think your projects good?"
"Sorry I made a baby of myself," apologized Caleb. "Well, I've read in newspapers that books never was so cheap as they are now, an' from some of the offers that come to us by letter I should say 'twas so. I know more'n a little about the names o' books an' o' their writers, an' some of the prices o' good ones look as if the printers stole their paper an' didn't pay their help. Now, we don't make much use o' the back room o' the store. S'pose you fetch in there your cyclopeedy, an' dictionary, an' big atlas, to be looked at by anybody that likes. Then buy, in the city, a couple of hundred books,—say a hundred dollars' worth,—not too wise, an' not too silly, an' let it be knowed that at Somerton's store there's a free circulating library."
"For Somerton's customers only," added Philip.
"No, for ev'rybody—not only for the sake o' the principle, but to draw trade. The first man that does that thing in this town won't ever be forgot by folks whose hearts are in the right place—not unless I'm all wrong on human nature."
"Which is as unlikely as the wildest thing ever dreamed," said Philip. "I don't doubt that you're entirely right about the advertising value of your project. My atlas, dictionary, and cyclopedia will serve me quite as well in the back room as if in the house, and the cost of the other books will be repaid by the first new farmer-customer we catch by means of the library."
"Then the thing is to be a go?"
"Certainly it is."