Dad made me read to him every night--all sorts of books." "Had you a Free Library at Barnstaple ?" "I don't know--I never asked,"-- she said--"Father hated 'lent' books.

He had a savings-box--he used to call it his 'book-box'-- and he would always drop in every spare penny he had for books till he'd got a few shillings, and then he would buy what he called 'classics.' They're all so cheap, you see.

And by degrees we got Shakespeare and Carlyle, and Emerson and Scott and Dickens, and nearly all the poets; when you go into the parlour you'll see quite a nice bookcase there, full of books.
It's much better to have them like that for one's own, than wait turns at a Free Library.

I've read all Shakespeare at least twenty times over." The garden-gate suddenly clicked open and she turned her head.
"Here's Mr.Bunce come to see you." Helmsley drew himself up a little in his chair as the village doctor entered, and after exchanging a brief "Good-morning!" with Mary, approached him.

The situation was curious;--here was he,--a multi-millionaire, who could have paid the greatest specialists in the world for their medical skill and attendance,--under the supervision and scrutiny of this simple herbalist, who, standing opposite to him, bent a pair of kindly brown eyes enquiringly upon his face.
"Up to-day, are we ?" said Mr.Bunce--"That is well; that's very well! Better in ourselves, too, are we?
Better in ourselves ?" "I am much better,"-- replied Helmsley--"Very much better!--thanks to you and Miss Deane.