Ever find interesting things in books?

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird. She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

I imagine that at some point, everyone who has ever worked in a library or a
used bookstore has found some interesting things used as bookmarks, or the
book was used as a safe place to store something and then forgotten about.
I remember many years ago reading a "two-minute mystery" in which a library
worker found several large denominations of paper money that were folded in
curious ways, tucked inside a book that had been returned. The librarian
reasoned that only a blind person would fold money like that, in order to
keep track of 20s, 50s, etc. (I guess the person who returned the book knew
the blind person or was related in some way.), and quickly tracked down the
owner of the money.

I haven't found anything really exciting in old books I've purchased, though
I have found some interesting inscriptions written in them. A few were
apparently given as gifts from one loved one to another, but for whatever
reason that book was gotten rid of.

Come to think of it, I did once find a memo of some sort in an engineering
textbook. Apparently the publisher had sent the book to a college professor
for review. The memo dated from the late 1960s.

I forget in which book I found it, but once I found a mimeographed sheet of
paper from a TV station in Iowa. It listed in detail a particular evening's
broadcast schedule, including every commercial and time it would run. That
too was from the 1960s.

Once I found

"Matt J. McCullar" wrote in message
.. .
I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this
afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird.
She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.


Once I found a book where someone had pressed 20 or 30 leaves in it --
lovely specimens of Cannabis sativa. I find all kinds of things used as
bookmarks: plane ticket stubs, shopping lists, business cards. I found a
little four-page brochure of books suggested for "Summer Reading" put out by
the MacMillan Company, probably circa 1900, since I found it in a book of
that vintage. It includes such titles as: The Reign of Law: A Tale of the
Kentucky Hemp Fields, by James Lane Allen (12mo Cloth Gilt Top $1.50) and
The Banker and the Bear: A Story of a Corner in Lard, by Henry Kitchell
Webster (16mo Cloth $1.50). Of the two, the second would have been a better
investment, even without the gilt top.

Alice

In May 2002, I placed an online order to the Strand bookstore in New
York for an inscribed copy of "To Doctor R. Essays Here Collected and
Published in Honor of the Seventieth Birthday of Dr. A. S. W.
Rosenbach," Philadelphia, 1946.

Although the listing said that Joseph Conrad had signed the book, the
Strand e-mailed me that the book was inscribed by Joseph Carson, one
of the book's contributors, and not Joseph Conrad. I told the Strand
to send the book to me anyway. Joseph Carson inscribed the book to his
daughter, Sarah Carson, so this book was from her library.

I had the book on my lap while I was googling "Joseph Carson," when
some folded papers fell out of the rear pages of the book and onto my
lap. There were three sheets of paper with the word "copy" printed in
red across the center of each page. The papers appear to be an
obituary written by Joseph Carson (1883-1953) on his friend, A.S.W
Rosenbach (1876-1952).

Joseph Carson was a prominent member of Philadelphia Society, and
followed in his father's footsteps as a student and collector of early
Americana. Their collections formed the base of the huge Americana
Collection given by his wife, Marian S. Carson, to the Library of
Congress almost fifty years later: http://tinyurl.com/25eunx

This is what Joseph Carson had to say about A.S.W. Rosenbach in his
obituary:

1

"I had enjoyed all the books the Doctor had written. I knew the unique
place he had made for himself in the world. But I had not really met
him until I was elected to the Board of Trustees of the Free Library
of Philadelphia in 1930. He had then been on the Board for nine years
and when he died he was its senior member. He attended meetings
regularly, and as Chairman of the Book Committee and of the
Exhibitions Committee, took great interest. Through him over the years
some of the scarcest volumes the world knows were exhibited at the
Library. The printed catalogs testify to this. He was intensely proud
of the institution and of its treasures and liked to exhibit his own
treasures there - saying that the great lobby, a few steps off the
street, was the finest exhibition hall for books he knew.

After I became President of the Board in 1943 I saw the Doctor
frequently, at Board and committee meetings, at his place of business,
at his old house, at his new house, at the house of Mr. and Mrs.
William M. Elkins, my own house and elsewhere. Never on all those
occasions did I ever hear him parade his great knowledge in books or
his great ability in salesmanship. He was pleased when the Library
bought from his catalogs or from his stock but he never forced a sale.
If the matter involved a bid at auction never did he charge the
Library a commission.

The door of Mr. Elkins' house on Rittenhouse Square was always open to
him. He was very much relaxed and at home there. He had no side, no
affectations and no artificialities in speech and manner. He loved
people and they loved him - instantly. He was gracious always, to the
stranger and old friends alike. Mrs. Elkins admired him immensely and
he admired her. I have heard her say, standing in front of him, "I
would just like to pinch your little red cheeks." With a twinkle in
his eye he would reply, "Why don't you?" But I don't think she ever
did.


2

The doctor enjoyed good food, impeccably served. The dinners he gave
at his house were all of this and more. They were events long to be
remembered - remembered for the Doctor who sat at the head of the
table, for the company that was there, for the beautiful appointments
and the flowers, for the magnificient room enclosing the occasion.
Never was he over-formal. While doubtless he liked praise he never
fished for it. If he did, it was artless and disarming. Never did he
seek to dominate the conversation or boast of conquests in the amazing
world he had created.

At 4.30 on the night the Rare Book Room was to be dedicated and the
great Elkins Collections formally received by the Library, Edwin Wolf
called me up at the Library to say that the Doctor was ill and could
not deliver his address. Would I read it to the audience? This was
embarrassing because I was supposed to introduce him. Of course I
assented. Then the blow fell. The address was unfinished. Could Eddie
come up to the Library and we would finish it together. I still had to
dress and get to Mrs. Elkins' house by 6.30. The meeting at the
Library was set for 8.30 and a large audience to hear the Doctor was
expected. Together we did finish it. It was ninety per cent Eddie's
work, for he knew well the materials in the collections, the pace of
the address and what was needed to end it, some 750 words or more. He
begged me to say nothing of the matter and I never did. The Doctor
thanked me briefly sometime later but he never catechized me on it and
never alluded to it again.

I introduced the Doctor then stepped back and came forward once more
in his image, a rather pale one I think, to read a paper for over 40
mintes which I had never seen before. It went off as well as expected,
considering that the principal actor, the one whom people had come to
hear, was home in bed. I had to read it as typed and it necessarily
lacked those delightful and chuckling asides that only the Doctor
could have put into it. He had done just that with a prepared paper
previously when he had given his great collection of children's books
to the Library.


3

Much more I could say - much more. How he gave me items for my
collections which I still prize because he knew I would appreciate
them. How concerned he was when I was in the hospital, and how he
admired certain phases of Mrs. Carson's collecting of Philadelphia
imprints. I cannot, alas, go into these things.

The Doctor was to the Carson family a much beloved friend. For a
little daughter of ours he wrote on the flyleaf of his American
Children's Books


For Lea Carson

This collection of juveniles

is dedicated to a great juvenile

- her parent are among

my most devoted friends.

October 24,1946

A.S.W. Rosenbach

What he wrote there was spontaneous and genuine.

That was Dr. Rosenbach."



best,
Jerry Morris
http://displacedbookcollector.blogspot.com
http://moislibrary.com







On Jul 1, 4:59 am, "my-wings" wrote:
Once I found

"Matt J. McCullar" wrote in y.net...

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this
afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird.
She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

Once I found a book where someone had pressed 20 or 30 leaves in it --
lovely specimens of Cannabis sativa. I find all kinds of things used as
bookmarks: plane ticket stubs, shopping lists, business cards. I found a
little four-page brochure of books suggested for "Summer Reading" put out by
the MacMillan Company, probably circa 1900, since I found it in a book of
that vintage. It includes such titles as: The Reign of Law: A Tale of the
Kentucky Hemp Fields, by James Lane Allen (12mo Cloth Gilt Top $1.50) and
The Banker and the Bear: A Story of a Corner in Lard, by Henry Kitchell
Webster (16mo Cloth $1.50). Of the two, the second would have been a better
investment, even without the gilt top.

Alice

I have read this obituary before and I believe it was in print and not on
the net. Do you know where it was originally published?

wrote in message
ups.com...

In May 2002, I placed an online order to the Strand bookstore in New
York for an inscribed copy of "To Doctor R. Essays Here Collected and
Published in Honor of the Seventieth Birthday of Dr. A. S. W.
Rosenbach," Philadelphia, 1946.

Although the listing said that Joseph Conrad had signed the book, the
Strand e-mailed me that the book was inscribed by Joseph Carson, one
of the book's contributors, and not Joseph Conrad. I told the Strand
to send the book to me anyway. Joseph Carson inscribed the book to his
daughter, Sarah Carson, so this book was from her library.

I had the book on my lap while I was googling "Joseph Carson," when
some folded papers fell out of the rear pages of the book and onto my
lap. There were three sheets of paper with the word "copy" printed in
red across the center of each page. The papers appear to be an
obituary written by Joseph Carson (1883-1953) on his friend, A.S.W
Rosenbach (1876-1952).

Joseph Carson was a prominent member of Philadelphia Society, and
followed in his father's footsteps as a student and collector of early
Americana. Their collections formed the base of the huge Americana
Collection given by his wife, Marian S. Carson, to the Library of
Congress almost fifty years later: http://tinyurl.com/25eunx

This is what Joseph Carson had to say about A.S.W. Rosenbach in his
obituary:

1

"I had enjoyed all the books the Doctor had written. I knew the unique
place he had made for himself in the world. But I had not really met
him until I was elected to the Board of Trustees of the Free Library
of Philadelphia in 1930. He had then been on the Board for nine years
and when he died he was its senior member. He attended meetings
regularly, and as Chairman of the Book Committee and of the
Exhibitions Committee, took great interest. Through him over the years
some of the scarcest volumes the world knows were exhibited at the
Library. The printed catalogs testify to this. He was intensely proud
of the institution and of its treasures and liked to exhibit his own
treasures there - saying that the great lobby, a few steps off the
street, was the finest exhibition hall for books he knew.

After I became President of the Board in 1943 I saw the Doctor
frequently, at Board and committee meetings, at his place of business,
at his old house, at his new house, at the house of Mr. and Mrs.
William M. Elkins, my own house and elsewhere. Never on all those
occasions did I ever hear him parade his great knowledge in books or
his great ability in salesmanship. He was pleased when the Library
bought from his catalogs or from his stock but he never forced a sale.
If the matter involved a bid at auction never did he charge the
Library a commission.

The door of Mr. Elkins' house on Rittenhouse Square was always open to
him. He was very much relaxed and at home there. He had no side, no
affectations and no artificialities in speech and manner. He loved
people and they loved him - instantly. He was gracious always, to the
stranger and old friends alike. Mrs. Elkins admired him immensely and
he admired her. I have heard her say, standing in front of him, "I
would just like to pinch your little red cheeks." With a twinkle in
his eye he would reply, "Why don't you?" But I don't think she ever
did.


2

The doctor enjoyed good food, impeccably served. The dinners he gave
at his house were all of this and more. They were events long to be
remembered - remembered for the Doctor who sat at the head of the
table, for the company that was there, for the beautiful appointments
and the flowers, for the magnificient room enclosing the occasion.
Never was he over-formal. While doubtless he liked praise he never
fished for it. If he did, it was artless and disarming. Never did he
seek to dominate the conversation or boast of conquests in the amazing
world he had created.

At 4.30 on the night the Rare Book Room was to be dedicated and the
great Elkins Collections formally received by the Library, Edwin Wolf
called me up at the Library to say that the Doctor was ill and could
not deliver his address. Would I read it to the audience? This was
embarrassing because I was supposed to introduce him. Of course I
assented. Then the blow fell. The address was unfinished. Could Eddie
come up to the Library and we would finish it together. I still had to
dress and get to Mrs. Elkins' house by 6.30. The meeting at the
Library was set for 8.30 and a large audience to hear the Doctor was
expected. Together we did finish it. It was ninety per cent Eddie's
work, for he knew well the materials in the collections, the pace of
the address and what was needed to end it, some 750 words or more. He
begged me to say nothing of the matter and I never did. The Doctor
thanked me briefly sometime later but he never catechized me on it and
never alluded to it again.

I introduced the Doctor then stepped back and came forward once more
in his image, a rather pale one I think, to read a paper for over 40
mintes which I had never seen before. It went off as well as expected,
considering that the principal actor, the one whom people had come to
hear, was home in bed. I had to read it as typed and it necessarily
lacked those delightful and chuckling asides that only the Doctor
could have put into it. He had done just that with a prepared paper
previously when he had given his great collection of children's books
to the Library.


3

Much more I could say - much more. How he gave me items for my
collections which I still prize because he knew I would appreciate
them. How concerned he was when I was in the hospital, and how he
admired certain phases of Mrs. Carson's collecting of Philadelphia
imprints. I cannot, alas, go into these things.

The Doctor was to the Carson family a much beloved friend. For a
little daughter of ours he wrote on the flyleaf of his American
Children's Books


For Lea Carson

This collection of juveniles

is dedicated to a great juvenile

- her parent are among

my most devoted friends.

October 24,1946

A.S.W. Rosenbach

What he wrote there was spontaneous and genuine.

That was Dr. Rosenbach."



best,
Jerry Morris
http://displacedbookcollector.blogspot.com
http://moislibrary.com







On Jul 1, 4:59 am, "my-wings" wrote:
Once I found

"Matt J. McCullar" wrote in
y.net...

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this
afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that
they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she
said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird.
She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

Once I found a book where someone had pressed 20 or 30 leaves in it --
lovely specimens of Cannabis sativa. I find all kinds of things used as
bookmarks: plane ticket stubs, shopping lists, business cards. I found a
little four-page brochure of books suggested for "Summer Reading" put out
by
the MacMillan Company, probably circa 1900, since I found it in a book of
that vintage. It includes such titles as: The Reign of Law: A Tale of the
Kentucky Hemp Fields, by James Lane Allen (12mo Cloth Gilt Top $1.50) and
The Banker and the Bear: A Story of a Corner in Lard, by Henry Kitchell
Webster (16mo Cloth $1.50). Of the two, the second would have been a
better
investment, even without the gilt top.

Alice

Chris,

I haven't yet discovered when or where it was originally published or
read. I've had it on my websites since May 2002.

best,
Jerry Morris
http://moislibrary.com




On Jul 2, 5:22 pm, "Chris Charles"
wrote:
I have read this obituary before and I believe it was in print and not on
the net. Do you know where it was originally published?

wrote in message

ups.com...



In May 2002, I placed an online order to the Strand bookstore in New
York for an inscribed copy of "To Doctor R. Essays Here Collected and
Published in Honor of the Seventieth Birthday of Dr. A. S. W.
Rosenbach," Philadelphia, 1946.

Although the listing said that Joseph Conrad had signed the book, the
Strand e-mailed me that the book was inscribed by Joseph Carson, one
of the book's contributors, and not Joseph Conrad. I told the Strand
to send the book to me anyway. Joseph Carson inscribed the book to his
daughter, Sarah Carson, so this book was from her library.

I had the book on my lap while I was googling "Joseph Carson," when
some folded papers fell out of the rear pages of the book and onto my
lap. There were three sheets of paper with the word "copy" printed in
red across the center of each page. The papers appear to be an
obituary written by Joseph Carson (1883-1953) on his friend, A.S.W
Rosenbach (1876-1952).

Joseph Carson was a prominent member of Philadelphia Society, and
followed in his father's footsteps as a student and collector of early
Americana. Their collections formed the base of the huge Americana
Collection given by his wife, Marian S. Carson, to the Library of
Congress almost fifty years later:http://tinyurl.com/25eunx

This is what Joseph Carson had to say about A.S.W. Rosenbach in his
obituary:

1

"I had enjoyed all the books the Doctor had written. I knew the unique
place he had made for himself in the world. But I had not really met
him until I was elected to the Board of Trustees of the Free Library
of Philadelphia in 1930. He had then been on the Board for nine years
and when he died he was its senior member. He attended meetings
regularly, and as Chairman of the Book Committee and of the
Exhibitions Committee, took great interest. Through him over the years
some of the scarcest volumes the world knows were exhibited at the
Library. The printed catalogs testify to this. He was intensely proud
of the institution and of its treasures and liked to exhibit his own
treasures there - saying that the great lobby, a few steps off the
street, was the finest exhibition hall for books he knew.

After I became President of the Board in 1943 I saw the Doctor
frequently, at Board and committee meetings, at his place of business,
at his old house, at his new house, at the house of Mr. and Mrs.
William M. Elkins, my own house and elsewhere. Never on all those
occasions did I ever hear him parade his great knowledge in books or
his great ability in salesmanship. He was pleased when the Library
bought from his catalogs or from his stock but he never forced a sale.
If the matter involved a bid at auction never did he charge the
Library a commission.

The door of Mr. Elkins' house on Rittenhouse Square was always open to
him. He was very much relaxed and at home there. He had no side, no
affectations and no artificialities in speech and manner. He loved
people and they loved him - instantly. He was gracious always, to the
stranger and old friends alike. Mrs. Elkins admired him immensely and
he admired her. I have heard her say, standing in front of him, "I
would just like to pinch your little red cheeks." With a twinkle in
his eye he would reply, "Why don't you?" But I don't think she ever
did.

2

The doctor enjoyed good food, impeccably served. The dinners he gave
at his house were all of this and more. They were events long to be
remembered - remembered for the Doctor who sat at the head of the
table, for the company that was there, for the beautiful appointments
and the flowers, for the magnificient room enclosing the occasion.
Never was he over-formal. While doubtless he liked praise he never
fished for it. If he did, it was artless and disarming. Never did he
seek to dominate the conversation or boast of conquests in the amazing
world he had created.

At 4.30 on the night the Rare Book Room was to be dedicated and the
great Elkins Collections formally received by the Library, Edwin Wolf
called me up at the Library to say that the Doctor was ill and could
not deliver his address. Would I read it to the audience? This was
embarrassing because I was supposed to introduce him. Of course I
assented. Then the blow fell. The address was unfinished. Could Eddie
come up to the Library and we would finish it together. I still had to
dress and get to Mrs. Elkins' house by 6.30. The meeting at the
Library was set for 8.30 and a large audience to hear the Doctor was
expected. Together we did finish it. It was ninety per cent Eddie's
work, for he knew well the materials in the collections, the pace of
the address and what was needed to end it, some 750 words or more. He
begged me to say nothing of the matter and I never did. The Doctor
thanked me briefly sometime later but he never catechized me on it and
never alluded to it again.

I introduced the Doctor then stepped back and came forward once more
in his image, a rather pale one I think, to read a paper for over 40
mintes which I had never seen before. It went off as well as expected,
considering that the principal actor, the one whom people had come to
hear, was home in bed. I had to read it as typed and it necessarily
lacked those delightful and chuckling asides that only the Doctor
could have put into it. He had done just that with a prepared paper
previously when he had given his great collection of children's books
to the Library.

3

Much more I could say - much more. How he gave me items for my
collections which I still prize because he knew I would appreciate
them. How concerned he was when I was in the hospital, and how he
admired certain phases of Mrs. Carson's collecting of Philadelphia
imprints. I cannot, alas, go into these things.

The Doctor was to the Carson family a much beloved friend. For a
little daughter of ours he wrote on the flyleaf of his American
Children's Books

For Lea Carson

This collection of juveniles

is dedicated to a great juvenile

- her parent are among

my most devoted friends.

October 24,1946

A.S.W. Rosenbach

What he wrote there was spontaneous and genuine.

That was Dr. Rosenbach."

best,
Jerry Morris
http://displacedbookcollector.blogspot.com
http://moislibrary.com

On Jul 1, 4:59 am, "my-wings" wrote:
Once I found

"Matt J. McCullar" wrote in
y.net...

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this
afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that
they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she
said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird.
She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

Once I found a book where someone had pressed 20 or 30 leaves in it --
lovely specimens of Cannabis sativa. I find all kinds of things used as
bookmarks: plane ticket stubs, shopping lists, business cards. I found a
little four-page brochure of books suggested for "Summer Reading" put out
by
the MacMillan Company, probably circa 1900, since I found it in a book of
that vintage. It includes such titles as: The Reign of Law: A Tale of the
Kentucky Hemp Fields, by James Lane Allen (12mo Cloth Gilt Top $1.50) and
The Banker and the Bear: A Story of a Corner in Lard, by Henry Kitchell
Webster (16mo Cloth $1.50). Of the two, the second would have been a
better
investment, even without the gilt top.

Alice

Chris,

You wrote:
I have read this obituary before and I believe it was in print and not
on
the net. Do you know where it was originally published?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me reclarify my first reply to you. I haven't found when or where
the entire obituary was written, but the incident when Rosenbach was
ill and couldn't give his talk was specifically mentioned in the
Rosenbach biography written by Edwin Wolf and John Fleming.

best,
Jerry Morris





On Jul 2, 5:22 pm, "Chris Charles"
wrote:
I have read this obituary before and I believe it was in print and not on
the net. Do you know where it was originally published?

wrote in message

ups.com...



In May 2002, I placed an online order to the Strand bookstore in New
York for an inscribed copy of "To Doctor R. Essays Here Collected and
Published in Honor of the Seventieth Birthday of Dr. A. S. W.
Rosenbach," Philadelphia, 1946.

Although the listing said that Joseph Conrad had signed the book, the
Strand e-mailed me that the book was inscribed by Joseph Carson, one
of the book's contributors, and not Joseph Conrad. I told the Strand
to send the book to me anyway. Joseph Carson inscribed the book to his
daughter, Sarah Carson, so this book was from her library.

I had the book on my lap while I was googling "Joseph Carson," when
some folded papers fell out of the rear pages of the book and onto my
lap. There were three sheets of paper with the word "copy" printed in
red across the center of each page. The papers appear to be an
obituary written by Joseph Carson (1883-1953) on his friend, A.S.W
Rosenbach (1876-1952).

Joseph Carson was a prominent member of Philadelphia Society, and
followed in his father's footsteps as a student and collector of early
Americana. Their collections formed the base of the huge Americana
Collection given by his wife, Marian S. Carson, to the Library of
Congress almost fifty years later:http://tinyurl.com/25eunx

This is what Joseph Carson had to say about A.S.W. Rosenbach in his
obituary:

1

"I had enjoyed all the books the Doctor had written. I knew the unique
place he had made for himself in the world. But I had not really met
him until I was elected to the Board of Trustees of the Free Library
of Philadelphia in 1930. He had then been on the Board for nine years
and when he died he was its senior member. He attended meetings
regularly, and as Chairman of the Book Committee and of the
Exhibitions Committee, took great interest. Through him over the years
some of the scarcest volumes the world knows were exhibited at the
Library. The printed catalogs testify to this. He was intensely proud
of the institution and of its treasures and liked to exhibit his own
treasures there - saying that the great lobby, a few steps off the
street, was the finest exhibition hall for books he knew.

After I became President of the Board in 1943 I saw the Doctor
frequently, at Board and committee meetings, at his place of business,
at his old house, at his new house, at the house of Mr. and Mrs.
William M. Elkins, my own house and elsewhere. Never on all those
occasions did I ever hear him parade his great knowledge in books or
his great ability in salesmanship. He was pleased when the Library
bought from his catalogs or from his stock but he never forced a sale.
If the matter involved a bid at auction never did he charge the
Library a commission.

The door of Mr. Elkins' house on Rittenhouse Square was always open to
him. He was very much relaxed and at home there. He had no side, no
affectations and no artificialities in speech and manner. He loved
people and they loved him - instantly. He was gracious always, to the
stranger and old friends alike. Mrs. Elkins admired him immensely and
he admired her. I have heard her say, standing in front of him, "I
would just like to pinch your little red cheeks." With a twinkle in
his eye he would reply, "Why don't you?" But I don't think she ever
did.

2

The doctor enjoyed good food, impeccably served. The dinners he gave
at his house were all of this and more. They were events long to be
remembered - remembered for the Doctor who sat at the head of the
table, for the company that was there, for the beautiful appointments
and the flowers, for the magnificient room enclosing the occasion.
Never was he over-formal. While doubtless he liked praise he never
fished for it. If he did, it was artless and disarming. Never did he
seek to dominate the conversation or boast of conquests in the amazing
world he had created.

At 4.30 on the night the Rare Book Room was to be dedicated and the
great Elkins Collections formally received by the Library, Edwin Wolf
called me up at the Library to say that the Doctor was ill and could
not deliver his address. Would I read it to the audience? This was
embarrassing because I was supposed to introduce him. Of course I
assented. Then the blow fell. The address was unfinished. Could Eddie
come up to the Library and we would finish it together. I still had to
dress and get to Mrs. Elkins' house by 6.30. The meeting at the
Library was set for 8.30 and a large audience to hear the Doctor was
expected. Together we did finish it. It was ninety per cent Eddie's
work, for he knew well the materials in the collections, the pace of
the address and what was needed to end it, some 750 words or more. He
begged me to say nothing of the matter and I never did. The Doctor
thanked me briefly sometime later but he never catechized me on it and
never alluded to it again.

I introduced the Doctor then stepped back and came forward once more
in his image, a rather pale one I think, to read a paper for over 40
mintes which I had never seen before. It went off as well as expected,
considering that the principal actor, the one whom people had come to
hear, was home in bed. I had to read it as typed and it necessarily
lacked those delightful and chuckling asides that only the Doctor
could have put into it. He had done just that with a prepared paper
previously when he had given his great collection of children's books
to the Library.

3

Much more I could say - much more. How he gave me items for my
collections which I still prize because he knew I would appreciate
them. How concerned he was when I was in the hospital, and how he
admired certain phases of Mrs. Carson's collecting of Philadelphia
imprints. I cannot, alas, go into these things.

The Doctor was to the Carson family a much beloved friend. For a
little daughter of ours he wrote on the flyleaf of his American
Children's Books

For Lea Carson

This collection of juveniles

is dedicated to a great juvenile

- her parent are among

my most devoted friends.

October 24,1946

A.S.W. Rosenbach

What he wrote there was spontaneous and genuine.

That was Dr. Rosenbach."

best,
Jerry Morris
http://displacedbookcollector.blogspot.com
http://moislibrary.com

On Jul 1, 4:59 am, "my-wings" wrote:
Once I found

"Matt J. McCullar" wrote in
y.net...

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this
afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that
they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she
said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird.
She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

Once I found a book where someone had pressed 20 or 30 leaves in it --
lovely specimens of Cannabis sativa. I find all kinds of things used as
bookmarks: plane ticket stubs, shopping lists, business cards. I found a
little four-page brochure of books suggested for "Summer Reading" put out
by
the MacMillan Company, probably circa 1900, since I found it in a book of
that vintage. It includes such titles as: The Reign of Law: A Tale of the
Kentucky Hemp Fields, by James Lane Allen (12mo Cloth Gilt Top $1.50) and
The Banker and the Bear: A Story of a Corner in Lard, by Henry Kitchell
Webster (16mo Cloth $1.50). Of the two, the second would have been a
better
investment, even without the gilt top.

Alice

On 2007-07-01, Matt J. McCullar wrote:

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird. She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

I imagine that at some point, everyone who has ever worked in a library or a
used bookstore has found some interesting things used as bookmarks, or the
book was used as a safe place to store something and then forgotten
about.

I have a small book called _The Four Stories of the Nibelungen Ring_
which came with the following business card (with some ball-point
doodling on it):

*soul* maangement
of this
*dynamic* band
is handled by
*jon wyndham*
Ingrebourne 41222

*FARM*

(No mention of triffids.)

--
A: Because it messes up the order in which people normally read text.
Q: Why is top-posting such a bad thing?
A: Top-posting.
Q: What is the most annoying thing on usenet and in e-mail?

On Jul 12, 4:28 pm, Adam Funk wrote:
On 2007-07-01, Matt J. McCullar wrote:

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird. She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.

I imagine that at some point, everyone who has ever worked in a library or a
used bookstore has found some interesting things used as bookmarks, or the
book was used as a safe place to store something and then forgotten
about.

I have a small book called _The Four Stories of the Nibelungen Ring_
which came with the following business card (with some ball-point
doodling on it):

*soul* maangement
of this
*dynamic* band
is handled by
*jon wyndham*
Ingrebourne 41222

One summer evening when I was sixteen or so, in a funk of lonely
boredom in my bedroom, I opened a big old dusty, neglected book that
my parents had given me for Christmas some years before. The book was
an illustrated history of aerial combat during WWII. "AIR WAR!" it
was called, or something like that. It was the sort of book that
nobody in my family (or indeed, in my circle of friends) would ever
have a reason or desire to open.

I was pleasantly surprised, upon opening this book, that SEVENTY-FIVE
DOLLARS dropped into my lap, along with a flattened-out joint (which
proved to be harsh but rather effective). Seveny five bucks was a lot
of cash for a kid of my background, back in the late Seventies. I
guessed that I'd secreted this stash in there some months or years
before, and although I took the joint for granted, of course, and
immediately, I never really figured out where the SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS
came from, though I know it must have been profit from some kind of
deal that...

Never mind.

I think I win.

I know (knew) I won, back then.

--
YOP...

On Jul 12, 5:28 pm, Adam Funk wrote:
On 2007-07-01, Matt J. McCullar wrote:

I was unloading some books at my local Half-Price Books store this afternoon
and the clerk was talking with another customer about things that other
readers have accidentally left behind in their books. I joked that they
should have an "Is This Yours?" display case of such items, but she said
that they keep them in a safe area because some of them were so weird. She
didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.


The crappier library has a selection of photos by the front check out
desk, as photos are a common bookmark.

The only thing I can recall finding in my books is a selection of well
taken photos by a Chinese family. Of course, long after I sign
offline, I will recall much, much cooler things.

The less cooler things I have found tend to be reciepts. I always read
them in case someone bought something cool like cucucumbers and
vaseline. No luck.

On Thu, 12 Jul 2007 23:41:58 -0000, Peachy Mc**** wrote:

snippin' da Funk

One summer evening when I was sixteen or so, in a funk of lonely
boredom in my bedroom, I opened a big old dusty, neglected book that
my parents had given me for Christmas some years before. The book was
an illustrated history of aerial combat during WWII. "AIR WAR!" it
was called, or something like that. It was the sort of book that
nobody in my family (or indeed, in my circle of friends) would ever
have a reason or desire to open.

I was pleasantly surprised, upon opening this book, that SEVENTY-FIVE
DOLLARS dropped into my lap, along with a flattened-out joint (which
proved to be harsh but rather effective). Seveny five bucks was a lot
of cash for a kid of my background, back in the late Seventies. I
guessed that I'd secreted this stash in there some months or years
before, and although I took the joint for granted, of course, and
immediately, I never really figured out where the SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS
came from, though I know it must have been profit from some kind of
deal that...

I *wondered* where that book went -- your dad said I'd get that back
when school ended. What did he do with the windowpane acid?

--
Chris McG.
Harming humanity since 1951.
"Well now you're just getting SILLY." -- Darla


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