AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
and went away with the other letter rejoicing. The story has a sequel. When Pollock died his things were sold and among them was my Cornwallis letter. It brought $850. Mine lies in a drawer in the house, like a corner-stone which could not be sold or removed, and has cost me $850 beside two books.
Brotherhead, in 1898, published a little book upon the book-sellers and book-hunters of the city in which he gives the following kindly, but not altogether complimentary, description of myself:
“The true bibliomaniac, I am sorry again to have to repeat, is a rarissimo—nearly as scarce as the dodo. We have a few that collect books and have fine libraries; but the true Dibdin man—the man that cannot pass an old book store, or even an old junk shop; that will travel miles to enrich his collection; that has not time even to dress decently; that lives in his library, sleeps in it, surrounded by folios, quartos, in fact, every size; that eats his meals there; that smokes his pipe; whose atmosphere smells musty, and cleanliness is almost a vice—this class of men are rare. I do not say all these pecularities are even necessary or desirable, but such men do live, have lived, and no doubt will always live.
“I know one man in this city, the Honorable Judge Pennypacker, who possesses the true spirit of a bibliomaniac. His specialty is early American imprints and nearly all Pennsylvania early imprints. It is a pleasure to meet him. He is suave, affable and kind to all, and extremely liberal in his dealings.”
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