Reblog if you're a book magnet.  From Park College's 1928 yearbook.

Reblog only if you're a recreational reader and can relate to the special joy depicted in this photograph.  From the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville's 1951 yearbook.

What a concise way to communicate a title, year, edition number, publisher, city, editor's name, and ten major contributors.  That's sixteen units of information!  From Wheels by Edith Sitwell, 1916.

Timothy Lear's High Priest, the Church of the East's Holy Bible, and this one is now going for nearly a thousand dollars: the biography of the Marquis de Sade.

From Piedmont's 1970 yearbook.

From UNC Chapel Hill's 1907 yearbook.

Good news -- it won't and actually cannot ever happen again.  From It Never Can Happen Again by William de Morgan, 1909.

Last we checked, this book is going for over a thousand dollars on Amazon.  From In City and Country by Nila Banton Smith, 1938.

We don't find the Ex Libris until page 52!  From Gaston Technical's 1960 yearbook.

Given how a booklover's shelves tend to sag, making the world one's bookshelf might be a practical solution.  From Moline Community College's 1961 yearbook.

From Psychic Light by Maud Lord-Drake, 1904.

We concur: the most direct way to see the wizard is to mount a carousel horse.  Our own favorite antique carousel is on the Santa Monica pier.

From Off to See the Wizard by Daniel Ort, 1975.

Those still wondering which came first, the chicken or the egg, aren't reading the right books.

The Dogs and the Fleas was written by a dog named Frederic Scrimshaw in 1893.

The setting mapped on the endpapers is even divided into acres, as in "the Hundred Acre Wood," in this rather blatant "tribute" to Winnie the Pooh, two decades later.  We decoded the young reader's squiggle.  It says, "Christopher Robin did it first."  From Poo and the Baby Bunny Rabbit by Edwin Megargee, 1947.

This cursed image appears in Gaston's 1975 yearbook.

It's been said that "The author should be invisible every step of the way" (Angela Ackerman).  And that includes the title page, apparently.  This page is exactly as scanned by Google Books: "The Works of."

It's been said that the only book to have is Every Thing About Every Thing by Every Body.  We've read it, and while the beginning was quite compelling, about midway through we lost our bookmark and decided not to try to find our place again. From The Martlet, 1977.

From The Nine Lives of a Cat by Charles Bennett, 1860.  Are nine lives only for cats?  See How to Be Your Own Cat.

There's no shame in one's literary path leading toward romances.  From the University of Chicago's 1900 yearbook.