The Arkansaw traveler., 1883-05-26
Far fi> AvSlgt1tr Trtreisr. MY FRIEND, THE OK-SELLER
RUFUS K. WILSON.

Nts | , K. Ntl-NfN.
 The bookseller: what magic is there n the name: how many pleasing and grateful recollections i, calls to my mind My acquaintance with this friend of mine began when l was quite young. and am free te confess that many of tie happies, moments of my lfe-a busy and no, eventfui one-have been passed in his society. Long before had mastered the Teiiments Of education. as taught to the ailase children by the gentle old peda- sogue. who long since fell asleep and while l was still struggling with the mys- terles of the old school reader. and read ins for the twentieth time of the sad fate ot the beautiful and accomplished Lady lane Gray, or how the gallant Nathan Male met death. the book seller and I hhd become close friends.
 shall never forget my first visit to him. for |, Is deeply graven on my memory. lwas then a boy of nine years. had read stray fragments of Robinson Crusoe," and become deeply interested in the fate of .he unfortunate sailor. when one day II passing books,all l chanced to sec in the window copy of the book tempt- ingly displayed in manner calou- lated To make the eyes of young scr sparkle, and his eyes jingle for the priie. IL was none of your modern cheap editions. printed in smal! type and on poor paper. but bore instead the impnn, of Murray. of London. pr.nce of book .ellers and publishers. and reveled in ilused paper and large-iaoed type. just suited for the eyes of boys. After eyeing the volume for long time. l mustered ID courage to enter and ask the price. II was only four shillings, but this, to a lad whose entire spending money was the P.ie sums given him of a holiday. seemed small fortune. How eagerly l ran home. and. snatehing the little bank from the man,le-piece. nervously counted the copper pennies, the savings of many months. All told. there was onlv thirty censs-but little more than half the de- sired sum. The case looked hopeless :: still was bound to possess the book. and every cent that could wrng from indulgenI friends went to loin those in the iron box. How impatiently waited, and how much feared that it would be gone ere could purchase it, only those who have experienced all the little doubts and hopes and fears which go to make ap childhood, can ever know. Every morning on my way to school. l would hnger long 10 look upon the coveted prize. and then. with reluctant footsteps. turn away, fearing that had seen il for the las, time. and tha, some other boy would be it's happy owner Studies over. lwouid hasten back to the book-stall and when each time found the book still undisturbed, my joy knew no bounds. Once It was open a, the capture of " Friday" and an old-time engraving, the work of some disciple of 8ewick or perhaps of the master himself sividly portrayed the poor savage kneel- ing at the feet of " Crusoe" and acknowl- edging him as his master. Again it was open at different chapter and another cut displayed, the lonely sailor sitting ir his castle surrounded by his strange fam. fly of Cat, dog and parrot. studied the accompanying text until 1 knew it b, heart, and my dreams at night were filled with visions of queer figure wandering gun in hand about the strangest of is. lands. The goal of my desire was at las reached by my father giving me enougf 10 make up the desired sum and thougi at the time it was nine o'clock at night, set of for the booksellers, jingling m, money as went found him just blow ing out his lamp before going home; tn, exchange was quickly made and with n, treasure hugged tightly under my jacket ] set out on my return. Could Danie Defoe, writing in his lonely cell in Lon don prison, have been bless with the eye of posierity and looking forward over period of two centuries, seen the little bo sleeping that night with his preciou Robinson Crusoe " under his pillow. an, then for days, pouring over it's pages un til all the characters became living, breath ing beings, the great story-teller woul have felt that he was not laboring all il vain.
 The bookseller is always most fastid ious in his choice of friends. The ma or boy who stands outside his stall an