Beta Book

Dr. Mittyford grudgingly took Mr. Wrenn about, to teach him what
not to enjoy. He pointed at Shelley's rooms as at a
certificated angel's feather, but Mr. Wrenn writhingly admitted
that he had never heard of Shelley, whose name he confused with
Max O'Rell's, which Dr. Mittyford deemed an error. Then,
Pater's window. The doctor shrugged. Oh well, what could you
expect of the proletariat! Swinging his stick aloofly, he
stalked to the Bodleian and vouchsafed, "That, sir, is the
_AEschylus_ Shelley had in his pocket when he was drowned."
Though he heard with sincere regret the news that his new idol
was drowned, Mr. Wrenn found that _AEschylus_ left him cold. It
seemed to be printed in a foreign language. But perhaps it was
merely a very old book.
Standing before a case in which was an exquisite book in a queer
wrigglesome language, bearing the legend that from this volume
Fitzgerald had translated the _Rubaiyat_, Dr. Mittyford waved his
hand and looked for thanks.
"Pretty book," said Mr. Wrenn.


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