conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled The Haunted Bookshop about Mifflin, Roger, Haunted with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A charming and entertaining novel that captures the romance of books and bookshops. "When you sell a man a book," says Roger Mifflin, protagonist of this classic bookselling novel, "you don't sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue--you sell him a whole new life." The Haunted Bookshop finds Mifflin and his wife, Helen McGill, ensconced in Brooklyn, where they encounter some strange goings-on in their bookstore. The unraveling of the mystery provides a rollicking plot while allowing Mifflin (and the author) to expound on the delights of reading and the intricacy of the bookseller's art.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book titled The Haunted Bookshop.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Haunted Bookshop: This is a suspenseful novel set in Brooklyn around the time of the end of World War It continues the story of Roger Mifflin, the book seller in Parnassus on Wheels.\nIt also details an adventure of Miss Titania Chapman and a young advertising man named Aubrey Gilbert.\nThe Haunted Bookshop is not a novel of the supernatural.\nRather, the name refers to the ghosts of the past that haunt all libraries and bookstores: "the ghosts of all great literature".\nThroughout the novel Morley, through the character of Roger Mifflin, makes reference to the knowledge and wisdom that one can gain from literature.\nThe narrative begins with a young advertising man, Aubrey Gilbert, stopping by a bookstore named "The Haunted Bookshop" in the hopes of finding a new client.\nGilbert meets the proprietor, Roger Mifflin.\nGilbert does not succeed in selling advertising copy, but is intrigued by Mifflin and his conviction concerning the value books and booksellers have to the world.\nAdditionally, Gilbert is intrigued by the fact that his firm\'s biggest client, mr Chapman, is a friend of Mifflin and has asked Mifflin to undertake the education of his daughter, Titania Chapman, by hiring her as an assistant.\nGilbert returns to the book store, meets Titania, and falls in love with her.\nMeanwhile, mysterious things start to happen: a copy of Thomas Carlyle\'s Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell disappears and reappears, Gilbert is attacked as he travels home, a pharmacist neighbor of Mifflin is observed skulking in the alley behind the bookstore at night speaking to someone in German, and an assistant chef at the Octagon Hotel has posted an ad in the New York Times promising a reward for a lost copy of Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell.\nGilbert starts to sense that something nefarious is afoot.\nHe suspects that the gregarious Mifflin is involved in a plot to kidnap Titania, and he assigns himself the job of protecting her.\nMeanwhile, Mifflin begins to train Titania in the booksellers\' trade.\nHis focus is so centered on books and their content that he fails to note the unusual things that are occurring.\nGilbert takes a room across from the bookstore in order to keep eye on things, and believes his suspicions confirmed when he sees the pharmacist let himself into the bookshop with his own key late at night.\nGilbert breaks into the bookshop in an effort to find evidence to prove his suspicions, but only manages to frighten and anger Titania.\nGilbert learns that Mifflin is to take a day trip to Philadelphia, and follows him in the belief that the trip is a part of the "kidnapping" plot.\nIn Philadelphia Gilbert confronts Mifflin with his suspicions, telling him of all the things that have occurred.\nThe two realize that a third party had lured Mifflin away from the shop.\nThey call the bookshop and learn that the pharmacist has left a suitcase of books there for someone else to pick up.\nMifflin tells Titania to hold on to the case until he returns.\nMifflin and Gilbert return to the bookshop and find it locked.\nInside, the pharmacist and an associate of his have tied up mrs Mifflin and are menacing Titania with a gun.\nA fight ensues, part of the bookstore is destroyed by a bomb, and the pharmacist escapes.\nThe only casualties of the bomb are the pharmacist\'s partner and Mifflin\'s dog, Bock.\nMifflin even affects to be pleased as the blast knocked down books he\'d forgotten he had.\nIn the final chapter of the book Gilbert and Mifflin learn what the true plot was: The pharmacist was a German spy who had been using the bookshop as a drop-off point.\nHe was a specialist in making bombs, and had hidden a bomb in one of President Woodrow Wilson\'s favorite books.\nThe pharmacist\'s co-conspirator was the assistant chef at the Octagon Hotel.\nHe was to be part of the crew on the ship Wilson was to travel on to peace talks in Europe, and was to plant the bomb in Wilson\'s cabin in an assassination plot.\nThe pharmacist was captured by police, and killed himself.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this book.. Start with the sentence 'The Haunted Bookshop
  They all cheered, and for the third time that evening Aubrey felt more overwhelmed than any good advertising man is accustomed to feel'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Haunted Bookshop
  They all cheered, and for the third time that evening Aubrey felt more overwhelmed than any good advertising man is accustomed to feel. He tried to express his delight, and then added:
  Aubrey lingered to be the last, and it is to be conjectured that Titania did not drop her handkerchief merely by accident. The others had already crossed the hall into the sitting room.
  Their eyes met, and Aubrey could feel himself drowned in her steady, honest gaze. He was tortured by the bliss of being so near her, and alone. The rest of the world seemed to shred away and leave them standing in that little island of light where the tablecloth gleamed under the lamp.
  She looked up at him, with the lamplight shining on her vivid face. Aubrey felt oddly stupefied, and was thinking only of the little golden sparkle of her eyelashes. This time her eyes were the first to turn away.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She looked up at him, with the lamplight shining on her vivid face. Aubrey felt oddly stupefied, and was thinking only of the little golden sparkle of her eyelashes. This time her eyes were the first to turn away.
  Titania, sitting on the arm of Mrs. Mifflin's chair, took Helen's hand, unobserved by the others. They smiled at each other slyly.
  I had the honor of meeting Mr. Herbert Hoover a few days ago, and I asked him if it was true that Christopher Morley, calling on him shortly after the crash of 1929, had asked him what was America's greatest need and he had replied, "A great poet." I had often quoted this conversation. Mr. Hoover affirmed it was true. Poetry is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit. Man cannot live by bread alone.
  This Christopher Morley, known also as Kit and Chris, was born at Haverford, Pennsylvania, May 5, 1890. His parents are both English by birth, though they have lived for many years in this country. His father, Frank Morley, the distinguished mathematician, is a graduate of Cambridge University who came to Haverford College in 1887 as professor of mathematics. Dr. Morley, an English Quaker, came from Woodbridge, the lovely little town in Suffolk (the home of Edward FitzGerald) to which his son has paid tribute in "Shandygaff." From his mother also, Christopher undoubtedly derived his quota of imagination and literary tastes: she is a gifted musician, a poet, and (her son never fails to add) a fine cook. And her father was at one time associated with the famous London publishing house of Chapman and Hall.
  Morley has not written very much, in a formal way at least, about his Oxford adventure. Like almost all young Oxonians with literary instinct, he once projected an Oxford novel, and wrote several chapters before it went into his trunk of postponed schemes, to share a corner with the unsuccessful poem submitted in 1913 for the famous Newdigate Prize (the subject set for the Newdigate Poem that year happened to be "Oxford"). One gathers that the beauty and hilarity of that experience, in the last days of a world that can never come again—pre-War England—lie rather too close to the heart for casual journalism. But in a recent poem ("Parsons' Pleasure"—the name of the old bathing pool on the Cherwell at Oxford) we find these lines:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Aubrey felt oddly stupefied, and was thinking only of the little golden sparkle of her eyelashes. This time her eyes were the first to turn away.
  Titania, sitting on the arm of Mrs. Mifflin's chair, took Helen's hand, unobserved by the others. They smiled at each other slyly.
  I had the honor of meeting Mr. Herbert Hoover a few days ago, and I asked him if it was true that Christopher Morley, calling on him shortly after the crash of 1929, had asked him what was America's greatest need and he had replied, "A great poet." I had often quoted this conversation. Mr. Hoover affirmed it was true. Poetry is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit. Man cannot live by bread alone.
  This Christopher Morley, known also as Kit and Chris, was born at Haverford, Pennsylvania, May 5, 1890. His parents are both English by birth, though they have lived for many years in this country. His father, Frank Morley, the distinguished mathematician, is a graduate of Cambridge University who came to Haverford College in 1887 as professor of mathematics. Dr. Morley, an English Quaker, came from Woodbridge, the lovely little town in Suffolk (the home of Edward FitzGerald) to which his son has paid tribute in "Shandygaff." From his mother also, Christopher undoubtedly derived his quota of imagination and literary tastes: she is a gifted musician, a poet, and (her son never fails to add) a fine cook. And her father was at one time associated with the famous London publishing house of Chapman and Hall.
  Morley has not written very much, in a formal way at least, about his Oxford adventure. Like almost all young Oxonians with literary instinct, he once projected an Oxford novel, and wrote several chapters before it went into his trunk of postponed schemes, to share a corner with the unsuccessful poem submitted in 1913 for the famous Newdigate Prize (the subject set for the Newdigate Poem that year happened to be "Oxford"). One gathers that the beauty and hilarity of that experience, in the last days of a world that can never come again—pre-War England—lie rather too close to the heart for casual journalism. But in a recent poem ("Parsons' Pleasure"—the name of the old bathing pool on the Cherwell at Oxford) we find these lines:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In 1921 Christopher Morley came to the parting of the ways. He could continue to dig into the vein which he had found so rich and his friends had found so delightful, or he could risk the popularity he had justly earned, by moving on to a place where there was harder rock but more precious metal. The first meant stagnation the second, growth. So there was really no choice.
  IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY, Boni and Liveright, 1919. (In collaboration with BART HALEY, out of print.)
  MODERN ESSAYS (An anthology, selected and with an introduction by Christopher Morley), Harcourt Brace and Co., 1921.
  Any proceeds from the sale of these translations will be applied to increasing and codifying my collection of laundry slips.
  Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.