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“afternoon off.” I was still subject to “light-headedness.” For some reason I am more outspoken and even rude over the telephone than in personal confrontations. I suspect that it has something to do with being unable to look into the speaker’s eyes.
    â€œMay I ask the age of Mrs. Denby’s children?”
    â€œWhy . . . why, they are six, eight, and eleven.”
    â€œWhat book does Mrs. Denby recommend that I read to them?”
    â€œShe would leave that to you, Mr. North.”
    â€œThank Mrs. Denby and tell her that it is impossible to hold one child’s attention on a book for longer than forty minutes. I suggest they be encouraged to play with matches.”
    â€œOh!”
    Click.
    â€œMr. North? This is Mrs. Hugh Cowperthwaite speaking. I am the daughter of Mr. Eldon Craig.”
    She paused to let me savor the richness of my privilege. I was never able to remember the sources of my employers’ wealth. I cannot now recall whether Mr. Craig was reputed to receive a half-dollar every time a refrigerator car locked its door or to receive a dime every time a butcher installed a roll of brown paper.
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œMy father would like to discuss with you the possibility of your reading the Bible to him. . . . Yes, the entire Bible. He has read it eleven times and he wishes to know if you are able to read rapidly. . . . You see, he would like to break his record which is, I believe, eighty-four hours.”
    â€œI am thinking it over, Mrs. Cowperthwaite.”
    â€œIf you are interested, he would like to know if you would be able to make special terms for . . . for such a reading.”
    â€œSpecial terms?”
    â€œWell, yes—reduced terms, so to speak.”
    â€œI see. At my rate that would be over one hundred and fifty dollars. That’s certainly a considerable sum of money.”
    â€œYes. My father wondered if you could—”
    â€œMay I make a suggestion, ma’am? . . . I could read the Old Testament in Hebrew. There are no vowels in Hebrew; there are simply what they call ‘breathings.’ That would reduce the time by about seven hours. Fourteen dollars less!”
    â€œBut he wouldn’t understand it, Mr. North!”
    â€œWhat has understanding got to do with it, Mrs. Cowperthwaite? Mr. Craig has already heard it eleven times. Hearing it in Hebrew he would be hearing God’s own words as He dictated them to Moses and the prophets. Moreover I could read the New Testament in Greek. Greek is full of silent digammas and enclitics and prolegomena. Not a word would be lost and my price would be reduced to one hundred and forty dollars.”
    â€œBut my father—”
    â€œMoreover in the New Testament I could read Our Lord’s words in His own language, Aramaic! Very terse, very condensed. I’ve been able to read the Sermon on the Mount in four minutes, sixty-one seconds, and nothing over.”
    â€œBut would it count in making a record?”
    â€œI’m sorry you don’t see it as I do, Mrs. Cowperthwaite. Your respected father’s intention is to please his maker. I am offering you a budget plan: one hundred and forty dollars !”
    â€œI must close this conversation, Mr. North.”
    â€œLet’s say ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY !”
    Click.
    So before long I was cycling up and down the Avenue like a delivery boy. Lessons. Readings. I enjoyed the work (the Fables of La Fontaine at “Deer Park,” the works of Bishop Berkeley at “Nine Gables”), but I soon ran up against the well-known truth that the rich never pay—or only occasionally. I sent bills every two weeks, but even the friendliest employers somehow overlooked them. I drew on my capital and waited; but my dream of renting my own apartment (a dream fostering other dreams, of course) seemed indefinitely postponed. Except for a few engagements to read aloud after