How about that, parson?"
I heard the deep voice of Reverend Kane, the Methodist
minister: "You're dead right, Professor!" he shouted. "Tell
us some more about books. I'm right with you!" Evidently Mr.
Kane had been attracted by the sight of Parnassus, and I could
hear him muttering to himself as he pulled one or two books
from the shelves. How surprised he would have been if he had
known I was inside the van! I took the precaution of slipping
the bolt of the door at the back, and drew the curtains. Then
I crept back into the bunk. I began to imagine what an absurd
situation there would be if Andrew should arrive on the scene.
"You are all used to hucksters and pedlars and fellows selling
every kind of junk from brooms to bananas," said the
Professor's voice. "But how often does any one come round
here to sell you books? You've got your town library, I dare
say; but there are some books that folks ought to own. I've
got 'em all here from Bibles to cook books. They'll speak for
themselves. Step up to the shelves, friends, and pick and choose."
I heard the parson asking the price of something he had found
on the shelves, and I believe he bought it; but the hum of
voices around the flanks of Parnassus was very soothing, and
in spite of my interest in what was going on I'm afraid I fell
asleep.
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