THE BOOK BORE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2316, 19 August 1880, Page 2

THE BOOK BORE.

SECOND EDITION

They will come. While your are hurridly correcting a proof sheet, or putting the finishing touch to that last “ local.” You can almost tell them by their knock —anl-don’t-suppose-it’s-any-good kind of knock, it usually is, and directly you hear it jmu are seized with sudden and fearful misgivings. And this is the critical moment. This is the time to exhibit your presence of mind. If you are in a hurry and a bad temper*, you will growl out “ come in,” and a tall, well-clad form will be seen standing in the doorway, with a smile of greeting and a leathern bag, and your worst fears will bo confirmed. You will instantly realise that you are in the presence of the “book canvasser !” If you are foolish you will excitedly exclaim “ No thanks ; I am quite sure that I require nothing at all in your line ; excuse me, but I am busy—good day !” That might and might not have the desired effect. Your amateur canvasser or man new to the business might turn upon his heel without another word. Not so the old hand. He would not be in the least disconcerted. On the contrary, he would look quite encouraged, and would probably push past you into the editorial sanctum, smiling all the time, and it would require an earthquake at the very least to get that man out of the office alive before he had booked you for an order.

By far the better way, as soon as you hear the knock, is to murmur blandly “ Gome in,” and make up your mind to sacrifice a little time in order to have your man rather than that he should have you. Now keep cool. Be prepared for emergencies, but don’t, on any account, lose your temper. Your visitor will probably commence operations by wishing you good day, remarking that it is line weather for the time of year, and informing you that ho is the representatiue of Messrs Paystc and Sizzors, the eminent New York publishing linn. He will say all this in a breath—with the object of depriving you of yours; and all the time he is speaking he will be busily engaged in unpacking the contents of his bag. Let him alone. He will now take up a bulky volume bound in real imitation crimson morocco. This, as likely as not, is that justly admired work “ Cemeteries of America,” from the pen of that popular writer, Dr Sexton. Messrs Payste and Sizzors’ representative rapidly and dexterously turns over the leaves of the volume, talking all the time so loud and so fast that you arc at a loss to conceive, not only what he is talking about, but how he can get so many words out of his mouth in the time. Then he suddenly winds up by informing you that the “ work” can be had in any stylo, from 25s up to 755, according to the binding, and hints at weekly instalments.

Let him alone. Fancying that you are not sufficiently interested in the cemetery book, he will drop that and pick up a volume equally thick, equally gorgeous, and equally high priced. This is entitled “ The Street Pumps of Hew York” and is also profusely illustrated. “ The sale of this work has been immense,” the canvasser will tell 3 r ou. “ Paj'ste and Sizzors have been hardly able to keep up with the demand. An} r Hew York street pump you like to mention, you will find described in this book, with a illustration of it likewise.”

Let him alone. You can now begin to hum a tune softly to yourself, if you like—and go on with your work. This proceeding will so astonish the man of books that he will become almost silent, and will forget to tell you the price of the last literary treasure. By way of reviving his drooping spirits you can now remark that for excellence combined with cheapness you have never seen any books to compare with those before yon. This will encourage him. He will brighten up, and begin talking incoherently about booking your order. You can now commence to replace the scattered volumes in his bag (the oddness and coolness of the proceeding will add to his bewilderment) taking particular care to inquire where he is stopping. Y r ou now thrust his bag into his hand, and remarking that should you require any of his works you will communicate direct with Messrs Pavstc and Sizzors, you point mildly but lirmly to the door, —and if you are troubled with another visit from that canvasser for some time, why, I am very much mistaken. MASK.