"Gee whiz, they've got something better to do than read books," he thought to himself.
There at the desk sat the librarian, silent, preoccupied.

In the reading room were a few scattered readers intent on newspapers and magazines.

The place, familiar and pleasant enough to Pee-wee at other times, seemed alien and uninviting at a time of day when he was usually too busy to call upon its quiet resources of treasure.
On this balmy holiday it seemed almost like school; it had a booky, studious atmosphere which turned him against it.

And to complete this impression and make the place abhorrent to him there sat Miss Bunting, the history teacher, in a corner of the reference room with several books spread about her.

To Pee-wee on Saturday morning this seemed nothing less than an insult.
He approached a shelf near the librarian's desk above which was a sign that read BOOKS ESPECIALLY RECOMMENDED.