1869 Compendium of The Literary Magazine, "Bow Bells", The Book Dave Brown Wouldn't Have Purchased

1869 Compendium of the literary magazine "Bow Bells"

DAVE BROWN PART 2  - THE BOOKS HE WOULDN'T HAVE HUSTLED TO PURCHASE, I MOST DEFINITELY DESIRED

HOW DO BOOK COLLECTORS DECIDE WHAT'S HOT AND WHAT'S NOT?

     When my book hunting buddy, Dave Brown, passed away, I confess to feeling my relationship with the old book industry was also over. He was a brilliant man, and had meant a lot to my sense of well-being in a very precarious field of collecting. Few book collectors and dealers would disagree, about the degree of difficulty, becoming profitable and successful in this mine-laden profession. Dave was my guide through those early years, and like the parent who takes off the training wheels, from the bicycle, at least fifty percent of the time, a crash is likely to occur as a direct result. Of this, probably another half, crash their bikes because of a feeling of instant insecurity, and actually bring the bike to a sudden halt by their own actions; not the result of being unable to ride a two wheeler. Mind over matter stuff, but powerful none the less. Dave game me the security I craved, and validated my efforts, even if I wasn't making the big scores he was, at estate sales and auctions. I did eventually figure out, that I was still riding the bike on my own, without any major crashes. It just took the better part of the next year, to figure this out for myself. The training wheels were off. I had survived the post apprenticeship period.
     I really don't need to continue validating my respect, and sense of intimate kinship, with the late Miles David Brown. I was his biographer for gosh sakes. That's pretty intimate, wouldn't you say? And I can tell you, that researching and writing the book, put me even closer to the man I had to admit, at its conclusion, I hadn't known as well as I thought. It might seem to the readers of this blog, that Dave Brown was as close to me, in our heyday together, hustling books, as if he was a member of my own immediate family.
    There is something you need to know about collectors of almost anything, just in case you're not of our ilk. When we find a kindred spirit, a mentor, a confidant, it is most wise, to take full advantage of the opportunity to network, gain and infuse knowledge, as if a fountain that never ceases to flow no matter how cold or dry it might get. Dave Brown had been collecting books for most of his life. While he died in his sixties, he had tripled his years by jamming each day with three times more activities, accomplishments, and creative enterprise, than most of us could possibly undertake without collapsing from exhaustion. I knew early on, Dave Brown was never going to reach what we generally consider senior status. He was locked-in at fifty, and for the years I knew him, the only time I saw him age at a natural pace, was in the final year of his life. Then, it was a quick and obvious decline, but I was not allowed to know what was making him sick. Dave told Suzanne what was ailing him, and it was mortal, but not me, his future biographer. I suppose I did give the appearance of being the tag-along kid, looking up to a big brother figure, as being the key to my future. I was likely to take his death badly. I did. I won't mislead you. While I didn't make a dime writing and selling Dave's biography, which sold out and at least covered costs, what I learned from researching his book hunting stealth, and acquisition techniques, has given me a huge advantage out on the hustings, even when facing-off at an estate sale with other ardent, skilled collectors.
     As you will read in the companion blogs, that generated from the published biography, in 2000, Dave and his student, me, began playing off one another almost immediately. I was the Muskoka spotter, and it was my job to ferret-out sources of old books, and let him know, whenever there was an important sale upcoming in our locale, that would inspire him to come up from Hamilton to spend a weekend with us, at Birch Hollow in Gravenhurst. In this region, there were very few competitors for old books, at the time, and no one with Dave's capability to uncover the proverbial pots of gold; that most book owners, selling their collections, mistakenly under-recognize in terms of rarity and condition valuation. I didn't endorse some of his methods and I had some problems with the cunning he used to get what he wanted. Sometimes he used it on me, to weasel a book I may have purchased elsewhere, that he had a use for, or a friend looking for that title. The difference between us, was the fact Dave didn't buy in order to re-sell his finds. He was known to trade-up for other more desirable texts. He knew what other collectors desired, and he would use these books as bait, to secure histories of which he had particular affections. I was a book dealer at that point. Not a collector. My catchment area was relatively small, compared to Dave's, which was pretty much a two hundred mile radius from Downtown Hamilton. I couldn't afford to have my name, or our company, associated with anything that seemed we had conspired to get a lower price, at the owner's misfortune. I wouldn't get involved in any of his schemes to buy entire libraries or otherwise large collections, especially from estates, where executors were often vulnerable to the manipulations of experts, and those with big wads of cash in hand. Dave wasn't the guy to call to evaluate books. He didn't really care about market value. But he knew about how precious some books were, because of what information they held between their leather cover boards.
     Dave was an accomplished historian, but it wasn't what he taught at his Hamilton School. He was enormously well educated about natural heritage, and it worked well for him, as an outdoor education teacher. He was well known throughout the province, for his amazing Outdoor Education facility, abutting the Botanical Gardens, and as a mover and shaker for improvements in the program generally. I was a regional historian here in Muskoka, so let's just say, that our social get-togethers were about books and history, and Suzanne would often abandon us on the front verandah, until she would eventually poke her head out the door, to tell us she was heading to bed. The differences between us were fundamental. I couldn't afford to be a collector of books. I had to buy and then sell, to fulfill the mandate of the accountant, my wife, to enhance the cycle of the retail trade. No profit, no shop! Secondly, I got extra money's worth from the old books I did purchase, if they happened to contain information I could use as an historian; especially in write-ups for the local press, such as The Muskoka Sun, that was using huge amounts of my editorial copy every issue at that point. When I quoted from the book all that I needed, then it was presented to my book customers at our Bracebridge shop. I used them and then profited from them in monetary terms. Dave really didn't know that I was scanning the books for more than the obvious, face value, subject priorities, that appealed to our collector senses. Over the years, I became pretty good, at finding value in the books he decided not to purchase from these private sales; and he would even chastise me for buying what he saw as a bad investment. I used to ignore him, and buy a goodly percentage of what he brushed off, as being of much lesser significance to the collector-kind. What he didn't always grasp in the heat of the moment, the so-called pinnacle of the hunt, was that I was buying books based on what my customers at the shop were interested in, because that's what paid the bills, and put a few bucks in my pocket. He was just going to haul his books home, and stuff them into his already jam-packed Hamilton bungalow.     Dave had morphed into a bibliomaniac, who even took out a mortgage on his paid-off house, in order to satisfy his collecting urges. I knew this about Dave, and tried desperately to distance myself from the "mania" aspect of the hunt and gather of old books. I did slip in the years after his death, and began collecting way more than my capability of selling them. I would probably have only sold one book for every twenty I brought home. Nineteen of these were being kept for future posterity, and or future reference needs. I'm sure you can see what kind of disaster this could represent after five or so years of weekly purchases. Our house was in danger of sinking into the landscape, because of the excesses of a fellow out of control.
      An example of a book that Dave Brown would have rejected, was an 1869 compendium of literary magazines, known as "Bow Bits," seen in the graphics published above. This fair overall condition text, in large format, being "A Weekly Magazine of General Literature," begins with a colored black and white illustration of two ladies, above the caption, "Paris Fashions." The art work was created by E. Bracquot. The next page begins the collected journals, bound within, the first "BOW BELLS," being the issue of Wednesday, June 2nd, 1869. It was priced at "ONE PENNY."  The internationally recognized magazine, contained a quantity of stories which are all well illustrated by many internationally recognized artists. Dave Brown would have thought about other collectors he could have traded the book to, in exchange for something better, but most of his colleagues were fully into non-fiction. So to be hit in the face with a colored illustration of elegant French ladies, in current attire, would have made him close up the cover, and move on to the next book in the pile up for sale. But here's the thing! I always look for all the redeeming qualities of any book, whether it is the art work, the quality binding, the notoriety of the authors who penned the published pieces, (and if there are any first edition offerings by certain popular artists). Additionally, books like this, of many hundreds of pages, require page by page investigation. Dave had bad eyes but refused to wear glasses. He was eccentric in so many ways, it was a separate chapter in the book. He would not have expended the time, to even flip through the pages, because time was always of the essence to him, and he would have justified, that in the time it took to look closely at the subject text, he might have lost better and more historically rare books. At large book sales, this would be true. In Muskoka, the competition wasn't the same, when we attended sales together.
     In this book, are many smaller articles, of a non-fiction quality and quantity, that are highly significant to history hunters, including a particular account of a surveyor, in Western Canada, caught in the ugliness of a brutal winter climate in the early 1860's. There are hundreds of similar inclusions, about explorations and nature discoveries, based on successful expeditions, and much more, if one was to read a book as it is supposed to be consumed. Dave was a "scanner" of books, more so than a reader. He hated to be asked how many of the books he acquired, he planned to read; or how many of his 100,000 book collection, he had consumed as, a voracious reader. It's what one naturally thinks when watching one load fifty boxes full of books into the back of truck. At auctions, where he got most of his books, he had to field all kinds of similar questions, such as "Well, there's ten winters worth of reading in the back of that truck, wouldn't you say?" And, "Hey, are you going to build a house with all those books?" Dave would actually get insulted by comments like this, and turn his back disrespectfully, and carry on his enterprise, of piling boxes.
     Here now are a few more stories about my old book collecting buddy, who really did give me my start in book selling in earnest.

DAVE BROWN AND THE AUCTION COMPETITION - DAVE 1 HISTORICAL SOCIETY 0.

SOMETIMES AUCTIONS BRING OUT THE BEAST WITHIN

I WOULD HAVE PAID DAVE BROWN TO MENTOR ME IN THE FIELD OF ANTIQUES AND COLLECTING IN GENERAL. I WOULD HAVE OFFERED HIM FOLDING MONEY, LOTS OF IT, TO LET US KNOW HOW TO BE THE BEST BOOK COLLECTORS, THE MOST PROFICIENT ANTIQUE HUNTERS, THE MOST THOROUGH HISTORIANS, AND HOW WE COULD IMPROVE OUR ACQUISITION TECHNIQUES. I ADMIRED HIM THAT MUCH! IT WAS UNDERSTOOD, HOWEVER, THAT PAYMENT WAS ALWAYS THE SAME. A PLACE TO SLEEP ON TRAVELLING WEEKENDS, FOOD AND CONVERSATION. DESPITE WHAT DAVE MIGHT HAVE LED US TO BELIEVE TO THE CONTRARY, HE WAS OFTEN QUITE LONELY, AND JUST LOVED SOCIAL OCCASIONS TO TALK ABOUT LIFE AND TIMES. MOSTLY HIS. I DIDN'T MIND. THAT'S WHAT DINNER AND LODGING PAID FOR. ON MANY OCCASIONS I EXTENDED THE LENGTH OF DAY JUST TO GET ONE MORE HOUR OF CONVERSATION OUT OF DAVE, BECAUSE HIS STORIES WERE FABULOUS. AS HE MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE SAID…..I DIDN'T HEAR IT THOUGH, "NEVER LET FACT GET IN THE WAY OF A GOOD STORY." DAVE NEEDED US, AND WE CERTAINLY APPRECIATED HIS COMPANY. I'M PRETTY SURE HE KNEW I WAS STUDYING HIS STORIES, LIKE A UNIVERSITY STUDENT HANGING ONTO THE WORDS OF AN ECCENTRIC PROFESSOR…….NOT SURE WHAT IT ALL MEANS, BUT NOT TAKING ANY CHANCES; EVEN THE CRAZY STUFF, WILL PROBABLY FIT SOMEWHERE, SOMEHOW IN THE FINAL BIG PUZZLE OF THE "BIOGRAPHY."

DAVE BROWN DIDN'T WORRY TOO MUCH ABOUT MY FEELINGS. IF HE THOUGHT, AS A COLLECTOR, OR AN HISTORIAN, I WAS MISSING THE MARK, OR MISINFORMED, HE LET IT BE KNOWN. I GREW UP THROUGH THE MINOR SPORTS PROGRAMS IN THIS PROVINCE, AND I WAS PRETTY USED TO HOCKEY AND BASEBALL COACHES BERATING ME FOR SWINGING AT A BALL, AND LETTING IN A FLUKE……I WAS A GOALIE IN HOCKEY, AND THE COACH USED TO CALL ME "FUNNEL". I HAD SUGGESTED THIS, BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT MY PARENTS HEARING HIM CALL ME "SIEVE," WHEN SCREAMING FROM THE BENCH. I WASN'T A BAD GOALIE OR A POOR BALL PLAYER, BUT WE ALL GOT YELLED AT BACK THEN, AS THERE WAS NO POLITICAL CORRECTNESS OR SENSITIVITY AWARENESS POLICIES. AS WITH MR. BROWN, HE CALLED IT THE WAY HE SAW IT. WITH ME, I HOPE HE THOUGHT I WAS A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH, BECAUSE HE REALLY SPENT A LOT OF TIME TRYING TO SHAPE ME UP FOR THE BIG LEAGUES OF COLLECTING. AS HE HAD APPOINTED ME HIS BIOGRAPHER, JUST BEFORE HE DIED, HE HAD A SERIOUS AND VESTED INTEREST, IN MY EDUCATION IN THE FIELD OF OLD BOOKS ETC. SO, WITHOUT FEELING THAT BEING PUT-DOWN BY THE EXPERT WAS A BAD THING, I LISTENED AND MADE COPIOUS NOTES ABOUT OUR DISCUSSIONS.

NOW, THIS DOES NOT MEAN I AGREED WITH HIS STRATEGIES, OR HIS METHODS, BECAUSE I DIDN'T. I STILL NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT THEM, AND HOW I COULD CIRCUMVENT, TO HANDLE IT DIFFERENTLY, WITH MORE SENSITIVITY, AND ACHIEVE SOMEWHAT THE SAME RESULTS. IF YOU THINK THIS IS A LONG-WINDED INTRODUCTION TO THE STORY, BELIEVE ME IT IS REQUIRED. DAVE COULD TIP-TOE THE ETHICS BETWEEN HONESTY AND DISHONESTY LIKE A RAZOR-THIN TIGHT ROPE……AND NEVER LOSE HIS FOOTING…..BUT ALWAYS LEAVING THAT FAINT IMPRESSION SOMETHING WASN'T QUITE RIGHT. WHAT HE BELIEVED WAS ETHICAL, TO ME, WASN'T ALWAYS SO. FOR EXAMPLE, HE HATED HISTORICAL SOCIETIES…..NOT BECAUSE OF THE WORK THEY DID CONSERVING HERITAGE IN OUR COMMUNITIES, BUT BECAUSE THEY ATTRACTED, IN HIS MIND, A COLLECTION OF "KNOBS," AND "THE FRIENDS OF KNOBS." NOW WE HAD AN IMMEDIATE CONFLICT, SORT OF, BECAUSE I WAS THE FOUNDER OF ONE OF THESE ONTARIO REGIONAL HISTORICAL SOCIETIES. IN THE WINTER OF 1978 I SET ABOUT TO ESTABLISH THE BRACEBRIDGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AS THE FIRST STEP IN SAVING AN OCTAGONAL SHAPED HOME, IN TOWN, FOR A NEW COMMUNITY MUSEUM……WHICH ACTUALLY OCCURRED A FEW YEARS LATER. I WAS ONLY A SMALL COMPONENT OF THIS, AND A FUTURE PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY, BUT STILL IT PUT ME ON A COLLISION COURSE WITH DAVE, ESPECIALLY WHEN WE ARGUED ABOUT THE DIFFERENCE OF PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF ARTIFACTS AND PAPER ARCHIVES, AND PUBLIC STEWARDSHIP. DAVE WAS FOR "PRIVATE IS BEST"……ON LOAN, WORKS FOR EVERYONE.  HE WAS PRETTY SURE OF HIMSELF, IN THIS REGARD, SO THE STORY I'M ABOUT TO RELATE WILL MAKE SOME SENSE.

IT WAS A REGULAR OCCURRENCE ON THE AUCTION CIRCUIT, IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO, THAT DAVE BROWN WOULD BE IN ATTENDANCE TO BID ON HISTORICALLY RELEVANT BOOKS AND ARTIFACTS, ALSO BEING THE CHOICE ITEMS OF THE LOCAL OR REGIONAL HISTORICAL SOCIETIES. THEY ALL KNEW DAVE. TO SAY THEY LOATHED THE MAN IS QUITE CORRECT, BUT GENERALLY, IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT, HE MOST DEFINITELY LOATHED THEM. THERE WERE A NUMBER OF PREVIOUS CONFLICTS DAVE USED TO TALK ABOUT, THAT TAINTED HIS OPINION OF CERTAIN MUSEUMS, AND THE CORRESPONDING HERITAGE SOCIETIES THAT OFTEN PROVIDED THEIR ADMINISTRATION. HE COULD GET ALONG WITH CURATORS AND SOME DIRECTORS, BUT WHEN IT WAS A FORCE AGAINST HIM AT AN AUCTION SALE, HE MADE IT A PERSONAL WAR TO OUT PLAY THEM.

THERE WAS A PARTICULAR AUCTION, TOWARD THE END OF HIS LIFE, WHERE THIS PLAYED OUT BEAUTIFULLY. I WOULD HAVE GLADLY PAID, TO HAVE SAT IN THE GALLERY, WATCHING THE PRE-AUCTION HUSTLING OF SOCIETY MEMBERS, AND DAVE BROWN, SCREWING WITH THE BOXES OF OLD BOOKS AS PART OF THE ESTATE SALE. SO HERE'S WHAT THE CONFLICT WAS OVER. OF ABOUT THIRTY OR MORE BOXES OF OLD AND SOME RARE BOOKS, THERE WERE SOME IMPORTANT REGIONAL HISTORIES SCATTERED OVER THE COLLECTION, STREWN ON A SECTION OF LAWN; BOOKS THAT WOULD BE SOLD OFF SOME TIME IN THE AFTERNOON. IT WAS A BIG SALE. WHAT ANGERED DAVE, WAS THAT THE "OLD FARTS" FROM THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, WERE TAKING THE BOOKS THEY WANTED, AND BUILDING A "SUPER BOX," OF ALL THE ONES THEY WISHED TO PURCHASE THAT DAY. NOW WHAT THAT MEANT TO DAVE, WAS THAT THEY HAD JUST ENOUGH MONEY, TO MAKE A GOOD STAB AT WINNING THAT ONE BOX, WHICH WOULD CONTAIN POTENTIALLY THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF REGIONAL MATERIAL. HE DIDN'T WANT THE SOCIETY UNLOADING THEIR SPENDING LIMIT ON ONE BOX, BECAUSE HE WAS INHERENTLY FRUGAL…..CHEAP. VERY CHEAP. SO HE WOULD GO BACK, AND CHANGE ALL THE BOOKS THE SOCIETY HAD BROUGHT TO ONE BOX, BACK WHERE THEY ALL CAME FROM…..A RATHER PAINSTAKING TASK.

"OH THEY WERE WATCHING ME TED," HE SAID. "EVERY TIME I MOVED THE BOOKS BACK TO THE BOXES THEY HAD BEEN TAKEN FROM, ONE OF THE MEMBERS WOULD REVERSE IT BACK AGAIN, SO THEY COULD BID ON ONE BOX INSTEAD OF THE LOT." IN THEIR OPINION, DAVE WOULD HAVE HAD MORE CAPABILITY OF OUT-BIDDING THEM ON A BOX BY BOX BASIS, VERSUS HAVING ONE SUPER COLLECTION OF BOOKS IN ONE NEAT AND TIDY CONTAINER. DAVE WAS WAY AHEAD OF THEM, AND HE KEPT REVERSING THE BOOKS, EVERY TIME THEY'D MAKE THE CHANGES. "THEY WERE GETTING MAD," HE SAID. "WE MUST HAVE DONE THIS BACK AND FORTH THING FIVE OR SIX TIMES, BEFORE I FINALLY GOT FED UP AND WENT TO TALK TO THE AUCTIONEER." FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW SOME OF THE PREVAILING AUCTION PROTOCOLS, THE AUCTIONEER COULD HAVE SOLD THE BOXES "ON CHOICE," WHICH IS DIFFERENT OF COURSE, THAN HOLDING THE BOXES UP INDIVIDUALLY, AND HIGHLIGHTING THE CONTENTS. THE SOCIETY WOULD NOT HAVE WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN, BECAUSE IT WOULD HAVE DRAWN MORE BIDDERS TO THE "SUPER BOX," AND THUSLY A MORE SIGNIFICANT BIDDING COMPETITION. THIS IS TIME CONSUMING. SO IT'S TO BE EXPECTED, THAT THE AUCTIONEER, WOULD SELL ON CHOICE, AND THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY WOULD KNOW EXACTLY WHAT BOX WAS "STACKED." THE FLY IN THE OINTMENT, SO TO SPEAK, WAS THE FACT DAVE WAS WATCHING CLOSELY, AND THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE WAS NO LONGER A FACTOR IN THE SALE. DAVE MADE IT HIS BUSINESS TO WATCH THEM, EVEN IF HE STOOD AT THE BACK, AND LOOKED THROUGH THE ARMS AND LEGS OF THE CROWD IN FRONT.

WHEN THEY SAW THAT DAVE HAD LEFT THE SCENE OF THE "BOOK SWITCHING CAPER," THEY WENT TO WORK ONE LAST TIME, TO GET THEMSELVES ALL THE BOOKS THEY WANTED IN THAT ONE SPECIAL BOX. DAVE KNEW THEY WOULD. HE ALSO PREDICTED, THAT WHEN THE AUCTIONEER TOOK A COFFEE BREAK, SO WOULD THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. AND HE WAS RIGHT.

SO HERE'S THE SCENE THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY MEMBERS GOT TO SEE UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL. MR. BROWN LOADING HIS RED PICK-UP TRUCK WITH ALL THE BOXES OF BOOKS THAT HAD BEEN PUT UP FOR AUCTION AT THAT ESTATE SALE. EVERY BOX, EVERY BOOK, EVERY HISTORIC PIECE OF PAPER, WAS INCLUDED IN THAT JOB-BLOT OF PRINT HERITAGE.

Well sir, what a scene that must have been. "What are you doing with those boxes," they demanded, of the portly little man, with dirty t-shirt and shorts….and really big running shoes. 'Well, I'm loading the books I just bought, onto my truck…..is that okay?" "What do you mean, your books," questioned the officials of the local heritage group…..most standing with stunned looks etched on their sunburnt faces. "Go and ask the auctioneer….I just purchased these books while you people were having coffee."

What was trademark David Brown, was that he had reached a point of frustration with the society members doctoring the boxes, and decided to call a favor of a friend….a long time buddy, the auctioneer, asking if he could please sell off the books as soon as possible, because he had to attend another event that day. Dave was a huge buyer of books at these auctions, and auctioneers knew he'd remove them all, leaving none behind at the end of the day. He was an asset to them. (They would otherwise have to deal with the left over items themselves). I've used this excuse about a dozen times in the past, and it has never failed to work as intended. They don't want to lose my cash contribution to the sale, so they are usually willing to bend if the audience approves. So the auctioneer agreed, told the audience in front, what the next auction lot would be, and without moving more than a few feet, started the bidding. He wasn't the only bidder, and it probably cost him quite a bit of money, but the boxes were not sold "on choice" as the society had hoped would be the case. So he got all thirty odd boxes, and the members of the historical society were left to "hiss" in unison, at the bad, bad, bad bibliophile who had, in their minds, pulled a fast one. If only it ended there.

Dave knew the books that were in that auction. There may have been thirty boxes of old books, but there were only about five exceptional texts, amongst what the society had wanted to purchase. One of the five was missing when he got home. I can imagine he let out a Homer Simpsonesque "doah!!!", when he realized it had been removed from the collection. In about a month's time, he made a point of going to the local museum that had been represented by the historical society, and when he went to look at their archives collection of regional books, he found the copy that had gone missing. He didn't accost them, didn't make a fuss, never called a cop, a lawyer, or had any kind of reaction to the folks who ran the museum. What it did, for him, was justify his actions at the auction, and made it a personal mantra thereafter, to have nothing to do with historical societies. All kind of crazy stuff, but this is not uncommon behavior amongst the vested interests, who attend auctions and estate sales. The auctioneer was doing what he was supposed to do……looking out for the client he was representing, and regarding customer service to be of the utmost importance. Just because the historical society was out of earshot, when the announcement of an order change was made, didn't mean there was any slight of protocol on his part. Dave played fair. He asked a question…..that in his mind was the same as a favor, and put the jockeying for position to rest. This was the way Dave acted for decades, to get what he wanted out on the antique hustings. He was a gentle man in most other ways, and a wonderful teacher to thousands of kids in Hamilton, but he was a champion at getting the big deals out there……and he outplayed many dealers and collectors with similar methodology.

There are those folks who go to auctions, and have no idea how rough it can get between competitors for important and valuable pieces. I've been with Dave at auctions, and he could lock-in like a heat seeking missile, when something of value was coming up. Friendship meant nothing at this point.

I confess to borrowing some of Dave's strategies for acquisition but I won't ever balance on the high wire……in that tippy-toe between honesty and dishonesty, because I don't ever take things that seriously, to wager a reputation on a box of old books. But none the less, I needed to see just how determined some collectors and dealers get out there, so that when I see them clench their teeth, while bidding against me, they're actually wishing I might vaporize, before I dare bid them up one more time.

It's hard to be a pacifist out there, and still come home with something for your efforts.