"The librarian opened his book and took a good look at the number of the

page on which paradoxes were treated, so that he might remember it; then

he rose and put the book upon the table, and, turning to Abner, he

looked at him steadfastly.

"'Abner Batterfield,' said he, 'I understand the state of your mind, and

it is plain enough that it's pretty hard for you to make a choice of a

new path in life; but perhaps I can help you. How would you like to be a

librarian?'

"'Me!' exclaimed Abner, amazed.

"'I don't mean,' said Mr. Brownsill, 'that you should take up this

business for life without knowing whether you like it or not, but I can

offer you what might be called a sample situation. I want to go away for

a couple of weeks to visit my relations, and if you will come and

attend to the library while I am gone, it might be a good thing for both

of us. Then, if you don't like the business of a librarian, you might

sample some other calling or profession.'

"Abner rose from the door-step, and, entering the room, stood before

Mr. Brownsill. 'That's the most sensible thing,' said he, 'that I ever

heard said in all my life. Sample first, and go into afterwards; that's

sound reason. Mr. Brownsill, I will do it.'

"'Good!' said the librarian. 'And the duties are not difficult.'

"'And the pay?' asked Abner.

"'Just what I get,' said Mr. Brownsill.

"The bargain was made, and Abner immediately began taking lessons in the

duties of a librarian.

"When he went home he told his tale to Mrs. B. 'I have hoed my last row

of corn,' said he, 'and when it's fit to cut and shock we'll hire a man.

There's librarians, Mrs. B., so Mr. Brownsill told me, that gets

thousands a year. Think of that, Mrs. B.--thousands a year!'

"Mrs. Batterfield made no reply to this remark, but in her heart she

said: 'And I am thunder.'

"Early the next morning, long before the ordinary time for opening the

library, Abner was at his post. He took the key from the concealed nail

where Mr. Brownsill was wont to hang it. He opened the door and windows,

as the librarian told him he must do; he swept the floor; he dusted the

books; and then he took the water-pail, and proceeded to the pump hard

by. He filled it, then he sat down and wiped his brow. He had done so

much sitting down and brow-wiping in his life that it had become a

habit with him, even when he was neither hot nor tired.

"This little library was certainly a very pleasant place in which to

earn one's living--ten thousand times more to his taste than the richest

corn-field. Around the walls were book-shelves, some of them nearly

filled with books, most of which, judging from their bindings, were of a

sober if not a sombre turn of mind.

"'Some of these days,' said Abner, 'I am goin' to read those books; I

never did have time to read books.'

"From the ceiling there hung, too high to be conveniently dusted, a few

stuffed birds, and one small alligator. 'Some of these days,' said Abner

to himself, 'I am goin' to get on a step-ladder and look at them birds

and things; I never did properly know what they was.'

"Now footsteps were heard on the sidewalk, and Abner jumped up quickly

and redusted a book upon the table. There entered two little girls, the

elder one with her hair plaited down her back. They looked in surprise

at Abner, who smiled.

"'I guess you want to see Mr. Brownsill,' he said. 'Well, I am in his

place now, and all you got to do is to tell me what book you want.'

"'Please, sir,' said the one with plaits, 'mother wants to know if you

can change a quarter of a dollar.'

"This proposed transaction seemed to Abner to be a little outside of a

librarian's business, but he put his hand in his pocket and said he

would see. When he had extracted all the change that pocket contained he

found that he was the owner of three nickels and five copper cents. He

tried some other pockets, but there was no money in any of them. He was

disappointed; he did not want to begin his intercourse with the

townspeople by failing to do the first favor asked of him. He looked

around the room; he rubbed his nose. In a moment an idea struck him.

"'How much do you want to get out of this quarter?' said he.

"'Ten cents, sir,' said the girl with the plaits. 'The woman's waitin'

fer it now.'

"'I'll tell you,' said Abner, 'what I can do. All I have got is twenty

cents. Two of these nickels will do for the woman, and then for the

other five cents you can take out a book for a week. A duodecimo volume

for a week is five cents. Is there any duodecimo volume you would like?'

"The girl with the plaits said she didn't know, and that all she wanted

was change for a quarter.

"'Which this will be,' said Abner.

"Asking the little girls to follow him, he approached the book-shelves.

'Now here's something,' said he, presently, taking down a book. 'It's

Buck's Theological Dictionary, and it's got a lot of different things in

it. Some of them your mother might like to read to you, and some of them

she might like to read to herself. I once read one piece in that book

myself. It is about the Inquisition, and when I began it I couldn't stop

until I got to the end of it. I guess your mother might like to read

that, even if she don't read it to you.'

"The little girl said she didn't know whether her mother would like it

or not, but what she had been sent for was change for a quarter.

"'This will be the same thing,' said Abner; 'twenty cents in money, and

five cents for a duodecimo for one week. So take the money and the book,

my dear, and tell your mother that if she keeps it out longer than one

week there'll be a fine.'

"The child and the duodecimo departed, and Abner sat down again, and

wiped his brow. 'There's one customer,' said he, 'and that's the way to

do business. They come to get you to do somethin' for them, and before

they know it they're doin' business with you, payin' cash in advance.

But there's one thing I forgot. I oughter asked them young ones what

their mother's name was. But I'll remember 'em, specially the one with

the plaited hair, so it's all the same.'

"The little girls went home. 'It's a new man at the library,' said the

one with the plaits, 'and he hadn't got no more'n twenty cents in money;

but he sent you a book for the other five cents.'

"The mother, with her baby in her lap, sent the ten cents to the woman

who was waiting, and then took the book, which opened quite naturally at

the article on the Inquisition, and began to read. And, although the

baby grew restless and began to cry, she didn't stop reading until she

had finished that article. 'It's fully worth five cents,' she said to

herself, as she put it on the shelf for future perusal.

"It was not long before the thought struck Abner that he was losing

opportunities which spread themselves around him, so he jumped up and

took down a book. The volume proved to be one of 'Elegant Extracts'; but

after reading certain reflections 'Upon Seeing Mr. Pope's House at

Binfield' he thought he would like something more in the nature of a

story, and took up a thinner volume entitled 'Dick's Future State.' He

turned over the leaves, hoping to meet with some of the adventures of

Dick; but his attention was arrested by a passage which asserted that

arithmetic would be one of the occupations to be followed in heaven. He

was about to put away the book in disgust--for to him there was no need

of a man's being good in this world if he were to be condemned to

arithmetic in the next--when the light from the open door was darkened

by a large body who approached in carpet slippers, making no noise. This

proved to be a round and doleful negro woman, a greater part of her face

wrapped up in a red-and-green handkerchief. Her attire was somewhat

nondescript, and entirely unsuggestive of literary inclinations. She

groaned as she entered the room.

"'Whar Mr. Bro'nsill?' she asked, with one hand to her face.

"Abner was amazed. Was it possible that this woman could read, and that

she cared for books? He explained the situation, and assured her that he

could attend to her just as well as the regular librarian.

"'I's mighty glad to hear dat,' said the woman, 'I's mighty glad to hear

dat, for I hasn't slep' one wink for dis tooth. Mr. Bro'nsill he allus

pulls my teeth, and dey nebber has been one what ached as bad as dis.'

"With this she began to unwrap her swollen face.

"'You needn't do that,' cried Abner. 'I can't pull teeth. You must go to

the dentist.'

"'That'll be fifty cents,' said the woman, 'and Mr. Bro'nsill he don'

charge nothin'. I know whar he keeps his pinchers. Dey's in dat drawer

in de table. And you kin pull it out jes as well as anudder pusson. I'd

pull hit out ef I wuz anudder pusson.'

"Abner shook his head. 'I never pulled a tooth,' he said. 'I don't know

nothin' about it.'

"'Don' dey tell somethin' about pullin' teeth in dese here books?' said

the woman.

"Abner shook his head. 'There may be,' he said, 'but I don't know where

to find it.'

"'And you's de librarian,' said she, in a tone of supreme contempt, 'and

don' know how to fin' what's in de books!' And with this she re-wrapped

her face and wabbled away.

"'I hope the next one will want a book,' said Abner to himself, 'and

won't want nothin' else. If I'm to be librarian I want to fork out

books.'

"The morning passed, and no one else appeared. The forenoon was not the

time when people generally came for books in that town.

"After he had eaten the dinner he had brought, Abner sat down to

meditate a little. He was not sure that the life of a librarian would

suit him. It was almost as lonesome as hoeing corn.

"Some time after these reflections--it might have been a minute, it

might have been an hour--he was awakened by a man's voice, and suddenly

started upright in his chair.

"'Hello!' said the voice. 'You keepin' library for old Brownsill?'

"'That's what I'm doin',' said Abner; 'he's away for his holiday.'

"The new-comer, Joe Pearson, was an odd creature. I remember him well.

He had been assistant to the town clerk, but was now out of a position.

He was a stout man with little eyes, and wore a shiny black coat, and

no collar.

"'I am glad to hear it,' he said. 'Mr. Brownsill's a little too sharp

for my fancy; I'd rather do business with you. Have you got any books on

eggs?'

"'I don't know,' said Abner, 'but I can look. What kind of eggs?'

"'I don't suppose there's a different book for every kind of egg,' said

Joe; 'I guess they're lumped.'

"'All right,' said Abner; 'step up to the shelves, and we'll take a

look. Now here's one that I've just been glancin' over myself. It seems

to have a lot of different things in it: it's called "Elegant

Extracts."'

"'"Elegant Extracts" won't do,' said Joe; 'they ain't eggs.'

"'E, E, E,' said Abner, looking along the line, and anxious to make a

good show in the eyes of his acquaintance, who had the reputation of

being a man of considerable learning. '"Experimental Christianity"--but

that won't do.'

"After fifteen or twenty minutes occupied in scrutiny of backs of books,

Joe Pearson gave up the search. 'I don't believe there's a book on eggs

in the whole darned place,' said he. 'That's just like Brownsill; he

hasn't got no fancy for nothin' practical.'

"'What do you want to know about eggs?' said Abner.

"Mr. Pearson did not immediately answer, but after a few moments of

silent consideration he walked to the door and closed it. Then he sat

down, and invited Abner to sit by him. 'Look here, Abner Batterfield,'

said he; 'I've got a idee that's goin' to make my fortune. I want

somebody to help me, and I don't see why you couldn't do it as well as

anybody else. For one thing, you've got a farm.'

"As he said this Abner started back. 'Confound the farm!' he said. 'I've

given up farmin', and I don't want nothin' more to do with it.'

"'Yes, you will,' said Pearson, 'when I've told you what I'm goin' to

do. But it won't be common farmin': it'll be mighty different. There's

money in this kind of farmin', and no work, nuther, to mention.'

"Abner now became interested.

"'It concerns eggs,' said Pearson. 'Abner, did you ever hear about the

eggs of the great auk?'

"'Great hawk!' said Abner.

"'Not _hawk_! Auk--a-u-k.'

"'Never seen the bird,' said Abner.

"'I reckon not,' said the other. 'They say they disappeared some time

before the war; but I don't believe that. I've been readin' a piece

about 'em, Abner, and I tell you it just roused me up, and that's the

reason I've come here s'posin' I might find a book that might give me

some new p'ints. But I reckon I know enough to work on.'

"'Is there anything uncommon about 'em?' asked Abner.

"'Uncommon!' exclaimed the other. 'Do you know what a great auk's egg is

wuth? It's one thousand eight hundred dollars!'

"'A car-load?' asked Abner.

"'Stuff!' ejaculated Mr. Pearson. 'It's that much for _one_; and that

one blowed--nothin' but a shell--not a thing inside. And eighteen

hundred dollars!'

"'By George!' exclaimed Abner. 'Eighteen hundred dollars!'

"'And that's the lowest figure. Great auk eggs is wuth twenty-one

thousand and six hundred dollars a dozen!'

"Abner rose from his chair. 'Joe Pearson,' he said, 'what are you

talkin' about?'

"'I'm talkin' about makin' the biggest kind of money, and if you choose

to go in with me you can make big money too. I'm all correct, and I can

show you the figures.'

"Abner now sat down and leaned over toward Pearson. 'Whar's it likely to

fin' nests?' said he.

"'Nests!' exclaimed Pearson, in disdain. 'If I could find two of

'em--fresh ones--I'd call my fortune made.'

"'I should say so,' said Abner, 'sellin' for thirty-six hundred dollars!

But what is there so all-fired good about 'em to make 'em sell like

that?'

"'Scerceness,' said Joe. 'Apart from scerceness they ain't no better'n

any other egg. But there's mighty few of 'em in market now, and all of

them's blowed.'

"'And no good?' said Abner.

"'They say not,' said the other. 'For scerceness they're better blowed

than stale, which they're bound to be if they're kept.'

"'But what's your idea about 'em?' said Abner.

"'That's what I'm goin' to tell you,' replied Pearson. 'There's a

general notion that there ain't no more great auks, specially hen great

auks, and that's why their eggs are so scerce. But I don't see the p'int

of that. It don't stand to reason; for now and then somebody gets a

great auk egg. If you find 'em they've got to be laid; and if they're

laid there's got to be hen great auks somewhere. Now the p'int is to

find out where them great auks lay. It may be a awful job to do it, but

if I can do it, and get just two eggs, my fortune's made, and yourn

too.'

[Illustration: "Abner, did you ever hear about the eggs of the great

auk?"]

"'Would you divide the thirty-six hundred dollars even?'--now very much

interested.

"'Divide!' sneered Pearson. 'Do you suppose I'd sell 'em? No, sir; I'd

set 'em under a turkey, or perhaps a big hen. Then, sir, I'd go into the

great auk business. I'd sell auk eggs, and make my fortune, and yourn

too.'

"'And young ones, if we get a lot?'

"'No, sir!' exclaimed Pearson. 'Nobody'd own no auks but me. You can't

catch 'em alive. And I wouldn't sell no eggs at all till they'd first

been blowed. I'd keep the business all in my own hands. Abner, I've been

thinkin' a great deal about this thing. You've heard about the lively

sixpence and the slow dollar? Well, sir, I'm goin' to sell them auk eggs

for sixteen hundred dollars, two for three thousand.'"

"John Gayther," said the Master of the House, "you will not make me

believe that you ever knew two such fools."

"In the course of my life," said the Old Professor, "I have known

several of them."

"Not looking for auks' eggs?" inquired the Next Neighbor.

"Something just as impracticable," he said.

"The North Pole, for instance," suggested the Mistress of the House.

"I think," said John, "they are more likely to find that than my friends

were to find what they sought. But we shall see. Abner looked at his

companion. 'That would be better than 'most any other kind of business,'

said he. 'Where do you go to get them eggs?'

"''Way up north,' said Pearson; 'and the furder north you go the more

likely you are to find 'em.'

"'I don't know about goin' north,' said Abner, reflectively; 'there's

Mrs. B. to consider.'

"'But I don't want you to go,' said Pearson. 'I'm goin' north. And when

I've found a couple o' auk eggs, I'll pack 'em up nice and warm in

cotton, and send 'em down to you, and have 'em hatched. That's where

your farm'll come in. You've got to have a farm and turkeys or big hens

if you want to raise auks. Then I'll go on lookin', and, most likely,

I'll get a couple more.'

"'That'll be a good thing,' said Abner; 'the more the merrier. I'll go

in with you, Joe Pearson. That's the sort of business that'll just suit

me. But I'll tell you one thing, Joe: I wouldn't put the price of them

eggs down at first; I'd wait until a couple of dozen had been laid and

blowed, and then, perhaps, I'd put the price down.'

"'No, sir,' said Joe; 'I'll put the price down at the very beginning.

Sixteen hundred dollars, or three thousand for two, is enough for any

eggs, and we oughter be satisfied with it.'

"'And when are you goin' to start north?' asked Abner.

"'That's the p'int,' said Pearson, 'that's the p'int. You see, Abner, I

ain't got no family, and I can start north whenever I please, as far as

that's concerned. But there's obstacles. For one thing, I ain't got the

right kind of clothes; and then there's other things. It's awful hard

lines startin' out on a business like this, and the more money there is

in it the harder the lines.'

"'But you can do it, Joe,' said Abner. 'I feel in my bones you can do

it. It'll be blackgum ag'in' thunder, but you'll be blackgum, and you'll

come out all right.'

"'I can't be blackgum nor nothin' else,' said Pearson, 'if I don't get

no help; specially if I don't get no help from the party what's goin' to

get a lot of the money.'

"Abner reflected. 'If we was to set any auk eggs next month, it'll be

well on into next summer before we'd have eggs to sell.'

"Pearson also reflected. 'Yes,' he said; 'and it might be a little later

than that. You've got to leave a margin. I allus leave a margin. Then

I'm safe.'

"'Yes,' said Abner; 'then you're safe.'

"Joe Pearson was a man of resourceful discretion. He rose now. 'Abner,'

said he, 'I've got to go; I've got a lot of things on my hands. And I

want you to remember that what I've said to you I said to you, and I

wouldn't have no other man know nothin' about it. If anybody else should

hear of this thing, and go north, and get ahead of me, it would

be--well, I don't know what to say it would be, I've such feelin's about

it. I've offered to take you in because you've got a farm, and because I

think you're a good man, and would know how to take care of auks when

they was hatched. But there's a lot for me to do. There's maps to look

over, and time-tables; and I must be off. But I'll stop in to-morrer,

Abner, and we'll talk this over again.'

"When Pearson had gone, Abner sat and stared steadily at a knot-hole in

the floor. 'Mrs. B.,' he said to himself, 'has allus been a great one on

eggs. She's the greatest one on eggs I ever knowed. If she'd go in, now,

the thing 'u'd be just as good as done. When she knows what's ahead of

us she oughter go in. That's all I've got to say about it.'

"The significance of these reflections depended upon the fact that

Mrs. Batterfield had a small income. It was upon this fact that there

depended the other fact that there were three meals a day in the

Batterfield household. It was this fact, also, which was the cause of

Mr. Joe Pearson's visit to the library. He was very well acquainted with

Abner, although he knew Mrs. Batterfield but slightly; but he was aware

of her income.

"After reflecting for about twenty minutes or half an hour upon the

exciting proposition which had been made to him, Abner grew very

impatient. 'No use of my stayin' here,' he said; 'there's nobody goin'

to get out books in this hot weather; so I'll just shut up shop and go

home. I never did want to see Mrs. Batterfield as much as I want to see

her now.'

"'Libraries seem to shut up early,' said Mrs. Batterfield, as her

husband walked into the front yard.

"'Yes, they do,' said Abner, 'in summer-time.'

"All the way from town he had been rehearsing to himself the story he

was going to tell; but he hadn't finished it yet, and he wanted to get

it all straight before he began, so he walked over to the barn and sat

down on an inverted horse-bucket to get his story all straight before he

began. When he got it all straight he concluded not to tell it until

after supper. But when that meal was finished, and everything had been

cleared away, and Mrs. Batterfield had gone to sit on the front porch,

as was her evening custom, he sat down by her and told his story.

"He made the tale as attractive as he possibly could make it. He even

omitted the fact that Joe Pearson intended to sell his first eggs for

sixteen hundred dollars instead of eighteen hundred, and he diminished

by very many hundred miles the length of Joe Pearson's probable journey

to the north. In fact, had his suppositions been nearly correct, the

remaining specimens of the great auk would have been birds of very

temperate dispositions, so far as latitude was concerned.

"Mrs. Batterfield listened with great attention. She was engaged upon

some sewing on which her eyes were fixed, but her ears drank in every

word that Abner said. When he had finished, she laid down her sewing,

for it was beginning to get a little dark for even her sharp eyes, and

remarked: 'And he wants some warm clothes? Furs, I suppose?'

"'Yes,' said Abner; 'I expect they'd be furs.'

"'And travelling expenses?' she asked.

"'Yes; I suppose he'd want help in that way. Of course, since he's

makin' me such a big offer, he'll expect me to put in somethin'.'

"Mrs. Batterfield made no reply, but folded up her sewing and went

indoors. He waited until she had time to retire, then he closed the

house and went up himself.

"'She'll want to sleep on that,' said he; 'it'll be a good thing for her

to sleep on it. She mayn't like it at first, but I'll go at her ag'in

to-morrer, and I'm goin' to stick to it. I reckon it'll be the worst

rassle we ever had; but it's blackgum ag'in' thunder, and I'm

blackgum.'

"When Abner reached his chamber he found his wife sitting quietly by the

table, on which burned a lamp.

"'Hello!' said he. 'I thought you'd be abed and asleep!'

"'I didn't want to do my talkin' out front,' said she, 'for there might

be people passin' along the road. I think you said this was to be a case

of blackgum ag'in' thunder!'

"'Yes,' said Abner, in a somewhat uncertain tone.

"'Well, then,' said Mrs. Batterfield, 'I'm thunder.'

"It was very late when that couple went to bed, but it was very early

the next morning when Abner rose. He split a great deal of fire-wood

before breakfast, and very soon after that meal he put his hoe on his

shoulder and went to his corn-field. He remembered that there were three

rows of corn which he had hoed upon only one side.

"The library was not opened that day, and it remained closed until

Mr. Brownsill returned. The failure in the supply of books did not

occasion very much comment in the town, for everybody agreed that

Mr. Brownsill was a good man and ought to have a holiday. There were

four persons in the place--a little girl with plaited hair and a sister;

a colored woman with a bad tooth; and Joe Pearson--who knew that Abner

Batterfield had held, for a time, the office of librarian.

"When his vacation had expired, Mr. Brownsill came home, and on the

second morning after his arrival, Abner Batterfield appeared before

him.

"'I had to come in town,' said Abner, 'and so I thought I'd step in here

and see about my pay.'

"The librarian looked at him. 'How long were you here?' he asked. 'I've

been told that the library was shut up for two weeks.'

"'I was here for three quarters of a day,' said Abner. 'That's about as

near as I can calculate.'

"The librarian took up a pencil and made a calculation.

"'By the way,' said he, 'you must have done some business. I miss our

copy of Buck's Theological Dictionary; but I find no entry about it.'

"'That was took out as change,' said Abner. 'Five cents for a duodecimo

for a week, and the rest in change. If the woman hasn't brought it back

she owes a week's fine.'

"'Who was the woman?' asked the librarian.

"'I don't know,' said Abner; 'but she has a daughter with plaited hair

and a small sister. While I'm in town I'll try to look 'em up.'

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