An old surface ...

 

Over Christmas, Microsoft had a special offer on the snapdragon based Surface Pro, and I took advantage of the offer to buy J one.

While I didn't like the install procedure, I was impressed with the lightness and power of the device, so much so that a few days ago I bought myself a refurbished Windows 10 based model.

It wasn't that expensive - a tad over two hundred bucks with shipping, power supply and keyboard included. The screen is good and bright and the keyboard looks hardly used. The case is scuff free and unless you looked closely the machine would pass for new.

I would guess that being as it's the turn of the year a lot of corporates and government bodies are rolling over their machines to newer ARM based devices, and its comparative cheapness comes from it being stuck on Windows 10 until it goes to the big network in the sky.

It has a number of advantages for me over the newer models, intel, not ARM based, meaning I can install my standard Windows tools, as well as use VirtualBox to make a virtual Linux machine should I need some Linux in my life (in theory, you can install Linux as a replacement operating system but the procedure's a bit finger-in-the-ear, more so than installing Linux on an old Chromebook, so I'll go with VirtualBox for the moment).

But the main draw is the form factor - it's light, and even though the battery is a little tired, battery life is still good enough for four or five hours.

With a USB A and a USB C port I have the external connectivity I need for archiving work, and of course it connects to OneDrive.

As you know, I've spent a lot of time trying to put together a highly portable little machine for research and cataloguing, and while I've come close, every iteration has either been too heavy or had poor battery life, both of which are a pain if you are planning on carrying it about in the course of a working day.

This time I might just have hit the sweet spot...

Hygenic libraries (again)

 I've written before about Hygenic Libraries.

Today's cataloguing exercise up at the Athenaeum brought to light another hygenic library label

this time from a library in St Kilda.

Again, there's no real information on what the procedure used was, but a little digging suggests that the books were either wiped down with formaldehyde solution, or, for a slightly more sophisticated treatment (and one less risky to the library staff) fumigated by being placed in a  chamber with formaldehyde vapour, perhaps like this 1930's example of a fumigation cabinet

Libraries and archives centres still carry out periodic fumigation to control silverfish and and the like - for example, when I worked at ANU, I had an office on the top floor of the Menzies library, and every Christmas shutdown they warned us that the building was closed as they were fumigating the books...

In the 1920s and 1930s, in the wake of the flu pandemic, and other local epidemics, such as the polio outbreak in Melbourne in the late 1920s, there were serious concerns that diseases might be spread by library books, and as I've written elsewhere, public libraries were still sterilising books as late as the 1960s if the borrower had come down with a notifiable infectious disease,

The advent of antibiotics, widespread vaccination and generally better public health meant  that by the late 1960s,  books in public libraries were no longer normally sterilised between loans, although during the recent Covid pandemic libraries that kept lending books did sometimes use UV sterilisation boxes.

Formalin is a pretty powerful sterilisation agent and was used extensively in hospitals and is still sometimes used in laboratory situations, but is not usually used on museum specimens. to sterilse them or get rid of insect infestation.

A shoestring circulating library

 Well, after the Christmas and New Year break, it was back to cataloguing the Athenaeum's historic book collection. I'd managed to complete shelves A4 and A5 before the seasonal break, so today I made a start on A3. (A1 and A2 need a ladder, which has health and safety implications, principally that there's someone else there to call triple zero in case I miss my step and fall off the damned thing.)

Before Christmas I'd accumulated enough evidence to show that the people running the library in the latter part of the nineteenth century were buying second hand books discarded by Mullen's circulating library in Melbourne, or imported second had books from England.

Not all books were bought second hand but quite a few of them have been, including this copy of JM Barrie's A Window in Thrums, dating to 1890.

Initially it didn't look to be terribly promising with a circulating library label on the front of the book.

The label was in poor condition and only just legible

but if you stare at it you can make out the words Horsham and Mechanics Institute. At this point I was envisaging the fun I had tracing the circulating library in Ryde, but they had made it easy for me, with a second copy of the label on the inside fly leaf

showing it came from the Horsham Mechanics's Institute - that's Horsham Victoria, not the one in England. 

There was a mechanics institute in the English Horsham but it seems to have closed down in the 1860s. Given that the book in question was published in 1890, I feel confident in saying it is from the Horsham in the western district of Victoria.

We have a partial provenance in the form or two handwritten notes on the flyleaf, one to say it was acquired for 6/- on 02/01/1891 and a second note in a different hand saying it was acquired on 13/12/1901, presumably by the Athenaeum.

In contrast to the Athenaeum, which was clearly run on the smell of an oily rag the Mechanics Institute in Horsham was a well funded organisation which regularly purchased new books as in this article in the Horsham Times of 28 June 1912.

(Horsham Mechanics Institute Building in 2008 - wikimedia commons)

The Mechanics Institute later transitioned to become Horsham's public library. The old Mechanic's Institute building is no longer the town library, but is now home to the Horsham Historical Society.

I had a look on StreetView and the building still looked much the same in 2024, rather unglamorously located next to a Bunning's carpark ...

I guess the only remaining question is why gentlemen were charged a quarterly subscription of three shillings but ladies were charged 2/6. Was it, given the attitudes of the time, because men were expected to use it for serious study, while women only used it to read romances and sensation novels ...?