While our mother had been inclined to abhor our philistinism in tones of despising innuendo our father would cheerfully dish us out tenpences chapter by chapter as inducements to make us cast our eyes over the occasional improving volume Or he would slip the odd superior book in amongst our Christmas and birthday presents labelled in bold marker pen This Book is NOT Literature Though we dismissed most of his offerings as boys books he did in this way expose us to some shorter works of decent fiction and just once to a wellknown anthology of verse