FROM MY WINDOW.

Shannon News, 22 June 1923, Page 4

FROM MY WINDOW.

.i OUR'STABLE COMPANIONS. J (By “Etera.”) “Oil, what &: wondrous thing it is to note how many iwheels of toil one thought, one word; can set in motion.” ■ . . , , You may look from hegimng.to - end of this column 'and yet know no more of horses, than I do. I know as much as did the New . Zealand officer at the beginning of the war who was promoted to spurs and a horse. “I have too much respect for the horse to get on his back,” he ,siaid •—“And besides, I don’t relish having my breakfast off the mantelpiece for a week if I do attempt to ride.” Personal experience so far though somewhat limited, has been spirited. . Picture to yourself a girl enjoying a holiday on a friend’s run in the country. A member of the household lends tier his special steeplechaser pony, and tcikes her ' for a ride to Mn adjacent hilltop. All goes well until the summit is reached when the pony, who has formed a too-flattering conception of the girl’s equestrian abilities. essays' to trot. Now is the time that she feels inclined to say with her friend Hamlet: “Oh that this too (plump), too solid (plump) fle l3 h would melt.” Here follow sixteen “plumps,” each one more and more out of tune with the music of the sphere; and the seventeenth “plump” lands her precinitatelv on " Mother Earth, which reuses her companion, too well bred to laugh, to ask concernedly if she feels faint and would- like a drink of water. Fortunately she does not, need Water and he is saved a mile’s journey to the nearest river : but after a few minutes’! rest, she gathers up what remains of assailed dignity and proceeds to- return home, remounting the pony who- all this time has been standing by with a mischievous glint % >in his eye, ; although he also, is too well bred to smile. Months afterwards the girl helps to entertain a cadet front : ih : at- run, and he begins to tell a fanny yam concerning a girl who fell off a pony. She rises dramatically; places her hand on his arm-sleeve and says: “Friend desist, T shall, fail Ito see the point of this ioke. I was the girl!”. At least, this is what, shei Avould have liked to have 'aid. hut ste must at. all events, have looked it, for he desisted hurriedly.

No,' our stable companions in this instance'are*paper ones, books of all kinds, sizes,i -shapes and interiors. Rooks for recreation; for study, inspiration and acauirement of knowledge; i n the making of which there is no end. ft is given' to u 3 to choose and retain from 'amongst them what is most necessary for us in our progress through life,: and happy are we when wo ran nlace hands 'unon those best gifted for the needs of the hour. They ave indeed fortunate neonlo who -have the methodical mind to tabulate a ♦bought for future reference, and be aide to find' it when needed. It is Love’s labour lost, when one looks for 'nfnrma+inn (on the making of mustard poultices and can only find how to compose a. sonnet to My Lady’s Lvebrows. As you grow ready for it -omewhpre or .other you. will find what ?«. needful for you in a hook, or a friend. I am afraid we treat books ratlier cavalierly sometimes, shutting them up if we disagree with what they propound. One writer, much in the public eye at present, says that it hurts him as

much to a honk placed upside down on the bookshelf, as it would to see a favourite brother being made to - stand on his head, propped up against a wall. Have you noticed how very few really humorous books are written F The “Times” says that the library of laughter i 3 the smallest library in the world; and ’yet one would think! judging by the popularity of humorous works, that authors who have the - gift of inspiring laughter would be only too glad to. cater more for the' public taste. I read once that Mark Twain’s ambition was to be the author of serious works, but circumstances evidently proved too strong in, this -instance; .although, underlying his writings one finds pathos, and the fun is not buffoonery, rather it is of a qdlaint and subtle nature.

I came across" an example the other clay, of a prize-winning short story. Can you better it? It is this : “Three vigorous girls once went for "a tramp in a wood. The tramp died!” Early writers ’attempted no delineation of character: their heroes and were Entered at Stationers’ Hall as “all gold,” while the villains ' and villaiiieisses stood, beyond, the rale as guaranteed to lie “all brass.” The villain icame in like a lion and went out likte a lamb to be slaughtered mentally by satisfied readers; while the noble hte.ro got his. deserts; and the girl; and the money; and the kudos (whatever that may be). Nowadays the villains show good points, and the virtuous bad ones, and one has to read every page carefully to Orid out Hie author’s meaning. After 'll., this h the truer reading of life. ~f o r who of us is wholly'had, or who 'whollv good Unfortunately the pen'’’lhun sometimes swings too far in .'the ODpO'ite'direction and the villain’s -wns are inclined to be so much gloss_ed over, that a youthful reader mins a wrong impression of life, mi si akin g vice for virtue." Life is the reading of an ever-changing tale, and lo read ..well is to live better.

, Have you ever been in a private Hibrarv where the books !i"vi been bought to ihatch the frie/e? Thai is the impression T have o r one j n a 'welt-equipped home once visited. The /nooks <ra.ve" out no feeling of comradeship, although one felt that under Iheir ‘uniform covers (this slyle M --o rirdi j eer dozen, real leather), one \ynuld [ find all Ural is host, in English lilera- | tore- ttial being part of the arrnnny. [mtent. you knew jyithoul looking, ■ that even the Encyclopaedia Brilannioa, well night bursting with informa-'‘f-ion. would have its covers decorously closed and its inside pages free from | finger marks. * » « » * I went inlo a stationer’s shop ,in a

country town once and asked if they had a copy of Pepys’s Diary. The proprietress looked puzzled, then brightening up said : “No, but we have the New Zealand Diary for this year! At the sale of the contents of a private library, the auctioneer’s assistant held up a substantial bonk' sayin <r ; “Here you are “Ganots Physics” —enough medicine to last the family for a lifetime!” And he meant it.

Some books suffer for want, of a suitable title, although df’the subject matter inside be good it will soon hold its own. I remember when recommending Barrie’s “Little White Bird,” to someone once, being promptly: told that the title did not sound highly exciting. Ruskin chose “Sesame and T ilies” for his book because he did not know what to call it, and that may mean anything. In choosing a name cor a book I should say, speaking as a reader, that several things should be considered.: It should be short enough to quote easily with words that ruin-. into each other as.in “Bees in Amber” j cryptic enough to stimulate the imagination, setting one guessing at its possible meaning; and musical to the ear.: Fashions come and go even in names; at present the trend ] towards borrowing two or three words from a favourite quotation: an improvement on the double title in old-fashioned books when the name ran- “The Haunted Castle or Where has Little Willie 'Gone?” and so on. Purveyors of “Deadwood. Dick’-’ .stories know the potentialities of a stirring title page, and cater for the tastes of the man who rushes along to the railway bookstall at the last minute to choose congenial reading matter. But they go a step farther-and illuminate the book coyer with pictures of lovely fainting- ladies * and 'gentlemanly in. immaculate evening suits holding- a revolver.. This will attract the tripper-if-nothing else will, for who does not wish to-know whether the lady is going to wake up in time to feel the full blaut; or whe.her the floe looking hero who is apparently waiting for the most dramatic moment before emerging from behind i!u- crimson, plush .curtain, will leave it. too late and so miss a little wild game shooting on his own account?

A real friendship may exist, between men and books and a man may be judged by the books on his shelf or the' papers' .-and magazines that he reads. * While one man finds enough to satisfy himself in the reading of h- daily paper another will not, he mi"tent "unless he is reading -some heavy technical work or deep classic. Milton says that a good hook is the previous life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured tip on pur-, pose to a life beyond life. Another’ writer says that some books -are to- be lasted, others to be swallowed,' and some few to lie chewed and digested." There is so much to say on this allabsorbing subject’of books; and we have barely ' touched the outside covers. Never mind, one of these days we shall have a chat ' bout books,’ shan't- 1 we?