NEVER, surely, did two mortals set off upon any expedition with greater glee and alacrity, than did Lisardo and Philemon for the sale, by auction, of Gonzalvo's bibliographical library. The great pains which Lysander had taken in enumerating the various foreign and domestic writers upon Bibliography, with his occasionally animated eulogies upon some favorite author, had quite inflamed the sanguine mind of Lisardo; who had already, in anticipation, fancied himself in possession of every book which he had heard described. Like Homer's high-bred courser, [who,

our young bibliomaniac began to count up his volumes, arrange his shelves, bespeak his binder, and revel in the luxury of a splendid and nearly matchless collection. The distance from my house to the scene of action being thirteen miles, Lisardo, during the first six, had pretty nearly exhausted himself in describing the delightful pictures which his ardent fancy had formed; and finding the conversation beginning to flag, Philemon, with his usual good-nature and judgment, promised to make a pleasing digression from the dry subject of book-catalogues, by an episode with which the reader shall be presently gratified.