But I, who know the man, know that his
fondness for the insignificant or the extraordinary is something more
than eccentricity, something more than a collector's appetite run amuck.
In reality, Cooper's soul goes out to the worthless objects he
frequently brings together into odd little museums. He loves them
precisely because they are insignificant. His whole life has been a
silent protest against the arrogance of success, of high merit, of rare
value. His heart is always on the side of the _Untermensch_, a name
given by the Germans, a learned people, to what we call the under-dog.
"My collection," said Cooper, "is as yet confined almost entirely to
authors in the English language. Here is my Shakespeare, a first
edition, I believe, though undated. The year, I presume, was about 1875.
The title, you see, is comprehensive: 'The Nature of Evaporating
Inflammations in Arteries After Ligature, Accupressure, and Torsion.'
Edward O. Shakespeare, who wrote the book, is not a debated personality.
His authorship of the book is unquestioned, and I assure you it is a
comfort to handle a text which you know left its author's mind exactly
as it now confronts you in the page.
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