Stump electronic books

Before the year was out, he was a
recognized quantity in certain book-stores, and was privileged to
browse at will both among old and new books without interference or
suggestion from the "stock" clerks. "There isn't any good trying to sell
him anything," remarked one. "He makes up his mind for himself."
His reading was broadened out from the classic and belles-lettres
grooves that were still almost a cult with the college graduate, by
another recreation now become habitual with him. In his long tramps
about the city, to vary the monotony, he would sometimes stop and chat
with people--with a policeman, a fruit-vender, a longshoreman or a
truckster. It mattered little who it was. Then he often entered
manufactories and "yards" and asked if he could go through them,
studying the methods, and talking to the overseer or workers about the
trade. When he occasionally encountered some one who told him "your kind
ain't got no business here" he usually found the statement "my father
was a mill-overseer" a way to break down the barrier.


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