Confessions of a Bookworm
by Ernest Slyman
I cannot stop reading books. There is a book among my collection that I love the most. A 1938 deluxe boxed edition, gold-trimmed with brazed lettering on the front and a blue velvet ribbon for a bookmark stitched to the spine.
The book once belonged to my father. Indeed, it was one of his favorite books. He presented it to me on my eleventh birthday. A memento of my childhood.