Book Rescue

I came home from school with new books today.

Not really new books; old books. Nice, old books.

Aren’t old books cool? Aren’t they so much cooler and prettier and more amazing than shiny new ones that give you paper cuts?

You know what annoys me? People who are afraid of germs from old books. Why would there be germs in old books? Sure, lots of people have probably read them and left a microscopic film of finger-oil, but that could be said of a lot of things. Leave my nice old books alone! Persecute computer keyboards instead.

Anyhow, I happened to be knitting socks in the library, when I noticed the librarian’s minions packing up books to be thrown away.

Thrown away.

Thrown away!!

Thrown away?!?!?!

How can a library throw books away? They’re supposed to be friends. Who even throws things away anymore? They weren’t even going to give them away. They were tossing them!

In the recycling, of course. Can’t let those trees go completely to waste.

But still!

How could someone toss this book? It has illustrations! Black and white ones! That's Sam Ward, the New York newspaperman, who is desperately in love with Anita Flagg, wealthy heiress.

I have no room on my bookshelf for more books. I need to open a shop for used stuff that I couldn’t bear to let other people throw away. I’ll make millions, I know it.

Can’t say I’m not excited to read The Inheritance of Jean Trouve, by Nevil Henshaw, though. Never heard of him? Neither have I. Neither has Wikipedia.

I'm sorry; I'm too tired to go find out how to make the fancy little accent mark above the "e" in "Trouve." Just imagine it's there, and you'll be okay.

 

I also got a couple of German books. Have you ever seen old German books? They’re really cool, and completely illegible, even if you know German. Seriously, I showed one of them to my fluent German pal, and he made out about as much as I could have if it had been in Chinese.

Ta da! Cool old German book!

Look at the font! It's so cool ♥

Anyways, if you’re ever in need of a nice, musty, obscure read, talk to me. I love talking about old books. I think it’s the reason I got along so well with my sophomore year English teacher. I used to go to her room at lunch times, and we’d watch Jane Austen movies and criticize Bronson Alcott for being a lousy family man. Then I’d grade papers for her, and she’d give me extra credit.

I had a 104% in that class.

I really liked that teacher. I go visit her sometimes . . .

By the way, I just realized something. The word lousy. Could it possibly be a derivative of the word, louse, as in, the singular form of lice? That would sort of make sense. That would be kind of cool! I should ask Mrs. English Teacher.

Have I mentioned how much I enjoy English? It annoys me when people call it “Language Arts.”

It was my birthday today. I don’t particularly care for birthdays. For one thing, I wish I was still fourteen. For another thing, I never know what to do when people sing “Happy Birthday.”

However, I did get thirty dollars, a crab, and a can of mangosteens. That made me happy.

Love,

Sofia

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