Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1919-09-30
Adventures of GeorgIana
A STRANGE thing has happened.

"a A month or so ago, George Rigby, the
bookseller, sent down to us, in a little
cardboard box, a very fine bookworm whom
he had discovered in an old volume. In an
old Italian volume, we believe he said it
was, which he was unpacking from a case
of books when he found her.
We named her Georgiana, in honor Of
her finder; put her box carefully at the
back of our roll top desk; and every few
days we would take look at her to be
sure that she was we'll and happy. We
felt good deal of pride in being (probably)
the only person in Philadelphia with a pet
bookworm; and our idea was that when
she had grown to feel friendly toward us she
might some day, In a confidential mood, tell
us something of her experiences. We were
anxious, for instance, to get her ideas on
the subject of free verse poetry, and whether
she found it sustaining as compared with
the older stuff.
TEORGIANA was a vivacious blonde.
~ She was of a fine golden brown color;
about quarter of an inch long; with three
pairs Of very dainty legs toward her front
end, and very attractive little hairs bristling
in a tuft from her tail. She was tightly
encased In a pale shell which seemed to be
jointed in ringlike sections. She careered
Rigby had put In 1t a number Of small bits
of fine old linen paper for her to feed upon.
We were pleased to notice after a few days
that at the bottom of the box appeared
powdery dust of paper atoms, proving beyond
doubt thattshe was chewing up these tidbits
and finding them agreeable. Our friend, Jim
Shields, hearing about Georgiana, sent us
down a couple Of books dealing with book
worms. We studied these attentively,
hoping to learn something about the care
and domestication Of these modest creatures.
To our dismay we found these volumes full
of suggested ways for exterminating the
bookworm. One suggestion was that fumi-
cation by tobacco would discourage the
worm, At once we took care not to project
apy clouds toward the back of our desk,
and abandoned our favorite recreation in
idle moments, which is to blow mouthful
of fume toward the pigeonholes to see how
many compartments we can fill with smoke
| by one puff.
TN SPITE of these precautions, In spite
of ''dust, poor ventilation, and lack Of
| Light (which the learned and Reverend
J. F. x. O'Conor, once librarian Of st.
| Joseph's College here In Philadelphia, and
author of ''Facts About Bookworms," says
| are the ideal home surroundings for book.
worms) we were grieved to note that Geor-
| giana was not fourishing. Every morning,
on reaching our desk, the first thing we
| did was to open her box, prod her up with
| a matchstick, and see how she was faring
| But she grew more and more languid. Sud-
| denly thought came to us. Fool that we
| were! We had given her nothing to read |
Paper she had in plenty, and Of the finest,
thanks to Mr.. Rigby's generosity; but it was
| blank paper, imprinted on, not a single
| morsel of text on which the famished crea-
ture might feast her intellectuals. Hastily,
we seized the nearest reading matter, which
/ was a scrap torn from that days issue of
THE CHAFFING DISH. Then, in addition
TO that, we put into her box fragment of
| H. p. A. Is colyum In the New York Tribune,
small portions Of 'Dere Mable," Eddie
Guests poems, A. Edward Newton's now
famous Amenities of Book Collecting
and a shred of West Jersey and Seashore
| Railroad timetable.
There was no time to choose daintily, for
Georgiana was obviously suffering but we
battered ourself that these haphazard selec-
tions would provide nourishment' for her
taste however she had been reared. We
also thought Ito be quito candid) 1t would
he interesting 20 see whether out of thia
collection she might possibly fall upon the
Dish az most nutritious Of all. What Z
feather iu our cap that would have been.