THE ART OF BOOK-MAKING.
chap_r(); <span style="color:grey">If t severe doom of Synesius be true,--quot;It is a greater offence to steal dead mens labor, t;--ers?
I en treme fecundity of t comes to pass t so many ure seems to ed teem ions. As a man travels on, s of some very simple cause for some great matter of marvel. tions about t metropolis, to blunder upon a scene eries of t, and at once put an end to my astonis.
I ering t saloons of tis listlessness to saunter about a museum in imes lolling over times studying tian mummy, and some times trying, o compreings on ty ceilings. I in ttention tracted to a distant door, at te of apartments. It every no range-favored being, generally cloteal fort noticing any of ts. tery about t piqued my languid curiosity, and I determined to attempt t strait, and to explore to my facility als of enced castles yield to turous knig. I found myself in a spacious c cases of venerable books. Above t under t number of black-looking portraits of ancient aut tables, ands for reading and ing, at udious personages, poring intently over dusty volumes, rummaging among mouldy manuscripts, and taking copious notes of tents. A illness reigned terious apartment, excepting t you migs of paper, and occasionally ted ion to turn over tless arising from t ulency incident to learned research.
Noe sometake t of turn sly loaded omes, upon y. I t I udy of occult sciences. tale, of a p up in an enced library, in tain, at