"That'll hold 'em," said Mr. Midgin, as he applied his measuring rule. "Jest shelves? or do you want a bookcase fixed up all reg'lar?" "Just shelves. That is the prettiest bookcase, to my thinking." "That's as folks looks at it," said Mr. Midgin, who apparently was of a different opinion. "What'll they be? Mahogany, or walnut, or cherry, or maple, or pine? You kin stain 'em any colour. One thing's handsome, and another thing's cheap; and I don' know yet whether you want 'em cheap or handsome." "Want 'em both, Mr. Midgin," said Lois. "H'm!-- Well--maybe there's folks that knows how to combine both advantages--but I'm afeard I ain't one of 'em. Nothin' that's cheap's handsome, to my way o' thinkin'. You don't make much count o' cheap things _here_ anyhow," said he, surveying the room. And then he began his measurements, going round the sides of the apartment to apply his rule to all the plain spaces; and Mrs. Barclay noticed how tenderly he handled the books which he had to move out of his way. Now and then he stopped to open one, and stood a minute or two peering into it. All this while his hat was on. "Should like to read that," he remarked, with a volume of Macaulay's Essays in his hands. "That's well written. But a man can't read all the world," he went on, as he laid it out of his hands again. "'Much study is a weariness to the flesh.' Arter all, I don't suppose a man'd be no wiser if he'd read all you've got here. The biggest fool I ever knowed, was the man that had read the most." "How did he show his folly?" Mrs. Barclay asked. "Wall, it's a story. Lois knows. He was dreadfully sot on a little grandchild he had; his chil'n was all dead, and he had jest this one left; she was a little girl. And he never left her out o' his sight, nor she him; until one day he had to go to Boston for some business; and he couldn't take her; and he said he knowed some harm'd come. Do you believe in presentiments." "Sometimes," said Mrs. Barclay. "How should a man have presentiments o' what's comin'?" "I cannot answer that." "No, nor nobody else. It ain't reason. I believe the presentiments makes the things come." "Was that the case in this instance?" "Wall, I don't see how it could. When he come back from Boston, the little girl was dead; but she was as well as ever when he went away. Ain't that curious?" "Certainly; if it is true."