The Osceola times., 1888-06-23
GENESIS OF A GEM.
How photographed Treasures
Are Manufactured to Order.

One day, s"mc twelve months ago. n
book lay among lot of others on a
book sellers counter in New York
shop, much haunted by bibliomaniacs
1t was an old book. not particularly
rare, and not in particularly good con-
dition. No one but n professional
booh -hunter would have looked thrice
at it; still, itbclonged among that class
of works dear to the hearts of the COL
lecting cranks. because they can bo
filed up with gallant cuts. and given
general air of wickcdness under the
excuse Of photography. The book
seller. coming in. found it where it
had been carelcssly thrown.
"Ah!' he said. "a 'PuccllcH Where
did ;his come from. Josoph?'
81 gave that drunken newspaper
man quarter for it," replied his
clerk. He wanted TO get his breakfast,
and had forgotten his pocket-book."
ale hadn't forgotten To bring his
book, though" remarked the bookscl-
lei. grinninC Queer memories some
people have, eh, Joscph?"
Joseph assented, and his employer,
nfter reproving him for not having got
the book for dime, took it away with
him.
A few evenings later the bookseller
was making up his accounts for the
day, and was alone in his shop, when
an old man entered. lie was evidently
a gentleman. and was also very decrepit
and very shabby, and he carried little
portfolio under his lean and thread
bare arm. In hositating and dlflident
voice that was full of shame at having
to deal with a sord subject. and full
Of anxiety as well, he said:
IL have some prints | would Ike to
sell, SIR"
Not buying prints just now," said
the bookseller without looking up, but
nevertheless getting a comprehensive
view of his visitor from under his slink-
ing eyelids. Don't you want to buy
somc?h
The old man sighed so dolefully that
any one but a dealer in rare books
might have experienced touch of
compassion for hm.
"Alas!" he said, "the time is past for
me to buy"
The bookseller slapped his account
book shut. and began to scribble out a
check for himself, for he had n Del
monico dinner on hand with possible
customer from Chicago. who was buy
ing a library, as he might have bought
carpets. by measure. The old man
still fingered, standing helplessly and
wearily, looking at nothing with feeble
eyes, in which hope and ambition alike
were dead.
"You might look at them, sir, he at
last began. appealingly.
mo use," replied the bookseller.
'Not the least use in the world"
Nevertheless, he did approach his
visitor, and jerking the carefully tied
ribbons of the portfolio apart, he tum-
blcd over its contents once. His eyes
flashed, but he flung the portfolio shut
and pushed it toward its owner. with
IN injured mir.
They are very rare" said the old
man. "and in good condition. | thought
might. perhaps, get a little money on
them"
How muchP demanded the book
seller, fiercely, it being his habit al
ways to bully seller and to placate a
buyer. "A fortune, ! suppose"
'Oh. no, sir, not quite that"
Then you're very different from the
rest of the world. They seem to think
any trash they may have is worth its
weight in diamonds"
The old man made q deprecatory
motion with his hands.
in my case," he said. with a certain
dignity, 81 hoped to get little money
that | need for these prints, which cost
me great deal"
Tut TUT" interrupted the book
seller. "How muchp Give it fig
ure."
Ten dollars?" said the old man, in
quiringly.
The bookseller laughed.
why not hundredP" he replied.
] might give dollar or two for them,
II you really need the money. But
don want them, anyhow"
The old man passed shaking hand
over his eyes, and asked, in trembling
voice:
NO more than that, sirp"
mot cent" replied the bookseller.
commencing to turn out the lights.
HIS visitor took up the portfolio and
ia''l it down again. Ho shook as with
the palsy The bookseller noted him
ont Of the corner Of his eye. and jinglsd
some silver in his pocket