I thought, as Mr. Rutledge said, "you and I," that it was very polite in him to put it so, but that he probably knew as well as I, that we had very different tastes, and that my favorite books were as unknown and indifferent to him, as his literary proclivities were, in all probability, elevated above, and incomprehensible to me.
"For instance," he said, "I like natural history. Now, a great many persons think it very dull. How is it with you?"
"That's just a case in point," I answered, with an effort not to care what he thought of me, "I never could get interested in it at all."
"I am not surprised; it is not very often attractive to those of your age and sex. Now, leaving off the 'natural,' perhaps you're fond of history?"
I reflected a moment; but while "White's Universal," and "Esquisses Historiques" were so vividly fresh and hateful, how could I honestly say I liked history? Yet I knew there were some historical works that I had as soon read as novels, but I did not know how to explain it; so I said, "I don't like all history, by any means."
"Neither do I," said Mr. Rutledge; "we agree on that point, and I am certain we shall on many others, if we can only get at them. Suppose you take any shelf, for instance, the lower one on your right, and let us see what we think of the contents. What's the first volume this way?"
I stooped down and read off the name, "Hallam's Middle Ages."
"Ah!" exclaimed my interlocutor, "we have stumbled upon history in earnest. How do you stand affected toward 'Hallam's Middle Ages'?"
"I like it exceedingly, sir." I responded very concisely, very much afraid of being pressed to give my reasons, which would have involved me in utter dismay and confusion, for in common with most very young persons, I liked because I liked, and disliked upon the same discriminating principle.
"What comes next?" asked Mr. Rutledge, to my great relief.