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Some folks head to the Bontrager Auction in Batavia to satsify their philately. Others go for the rhubarb pie, heaped thick and high with sweet gobs of cream. Some folks leave with a dusty tome tucked under their arm. Others shuffle off with a cherished cruet or crumhorn or gewgaw or whatnot. They've got a barn full of baubles and tents packed with trinkets, out there on Wortendyke Road. Enough, surely, for any good-souled and God-fearing American to find that special something to adorn that empty shelf at home and that vacant nook in the heart.

Not everyone, however, comes out for such trumpery. In fact, one beautiful, blonde, Batavian bookseller came out for a husband... and found one. She wasn't no newbie neither. She has been going to the auction house since she was a girl, buying boxes of books for a quarter. But let's let her tell the story...