He thirsted for a story.

Once a generous boy, since dead-he was too good to live had given him a handful of penny dreadfuls, whence he had derived his knowledge of pirates and Red Indians.

Too careless and confident, he had left them about the kitchen, and his indignant mother had used them to light the fire.

The burning of his library was an enduring tragedy.

He realized that it must be reconstituted; but how?
His nimble wit hit on a plan.