Archive for the ‘collections’ Category

The Art of Brewing

October 7, 2014

By Emily Meehan, Reading Room Assistant

A recent Clog article had to do with the lovely libation of wine, but there is yet another drink that all have loved (especially the Brits) since its conception: a nice warm pint of ale! In honor of Oktoberfest and the traditional beginning of the brewing season, it is interesting to examine the different artifacts the Clark holds on the brewing of beer/ale and the drink’s potential health benefits.


1751 engraving of “Beer Street” by artist William Hogarth, found in the 1889 book Curiosities of Ale & Beer: an entertaining history by John Bickerdyke. Designed to depict both the health benefits and thriving industrial/urban life associated with drinking beer.

Because much 17th century brewing was not yet a large commercial process, it was common for individuals or small independently-owned taverns to make their own beers and ales. Therefore, self-brew instructions were printed for the common man to create and enjoy his own homemade concoctions. In the pamphlet Directions for Brewing Malt Liquors, published in London in 1700 by “a Countrey Gentleman,” there are step-by-step instructions on the home-brewing of one’s own March or October beer (March being the end of the brewing season and October the beginning, both months in which beer was traditionally brewed when it was intended to be kept for a few months at a time). It starts with the type of water best suitable for the brew (“Pond-Water and other Standing Waters…make a Stronger Drink,” p.3), then continues to comment upon which English counties have the best malts (germinated barley grains). Apparently, “Malt mixt of several kinds makes the best Drink,” (p.6). According to the pamphlet, hops were a relatively new ingredient used in brewing, first used in the process around 1540, and the quality of the hops to be used were to be “bright, well scented, well dryed, cured and bagg’d; and generally speaking are best about a Year old,” (p.7). After going over these basics, the author begins to explain the intricate process of brewing and fermenting with comments upon the different practices of the various regions of Britain.


“A Perfite Platform of a Hoppe Garden” by Reginald Scot, 1574. Found in Curiosities of Ale & Beer

Of course, Britain is not known for having the warmest of climates, so warm beer as opposed to cold was a common way to alleviate the frigid weather that arrived in October. The Clark possesses on microfilm A Treatise for Warm Beer, a book which was published in the mid-17th century and subtitled “wherein is declared by many reasons that beer so qualified is farre more wholesome than that which is drunk cold.” The author, like many scholars of the time, promotes an Aristotelian view of health that proclaimed an even balance of the body’s main fluids (or humours) was the best way to keep in good health. In the Treatise, he argues that the body must have a good balance between warm and cold and because the British weather is so cold, drinking beer “hot as blood” was best to cancel out any cold fluids that threatened the body’s immunity. According to the author, a cold internal body was associated with weakness and the “stomach is an office of warmth” (p.110) that must be kept warm to prevent diseases such as consumption.

However, by the end of the 17th century, Thomas Tryon, a popular author of self-help books at the time, delved deeper into the health benefits of drinking beer. He published A New Art of Brewing Beer, Ale, and other Sorts of Liquors in 1691 that explained to the common people certain health risks that came along with brewing and consuming the drink. The book explains the typical brewing process, but also advocates for the clean practice of brewing and fermenting. Tryon makes a point on the necessity of boiling one’s water first before the brewing process (as opposed to Directions for Brewing’s use of pond water) and to drink newly fermented beer sooner rather than later as letting beer get stale is “consequently more prejudicial to Health…as it overheats the Blood….” (p.15) This advice also countered the author of Treatise, who did not specify the physical act of boiling before drinking beer warm, yet seemed to think that warm beer had the ability to boil meat in one’s stomach and therefore preventing any sickness acquired from eating raw meat.


Title page of A New Art of Brewing by Thomas Tryon

Like the author of Treatise, Tryon was also a believer in the Aristotelian balance of the human body, but instead of drinking more to prevent sickness and increase one’s health, Tryon recommended that one limit the amount of alcohol one drinks: “it clouds [the brain] with Vapors and superfluous Humours, and its noble Faculties are thereby interrupted…Reason muddled, and Judgment vitiated, and all the admirable Store house of Memory oppressed and confounded,” (p.7-8). Perhaps he’s speaking from experience? Regardless, Tryon was obviously closer to what we know today as healthy drinking practices.

If you’re interested in the old-fashioned, 17th century style of home-brewing, come by the Clark to read up on how it’s done! Remember to drink responsibly and boil your water beforehand!

The British Merlin and losing at cards

September 17, 2014

In 1951, the Clark purchased a 1701 edition of Rider’s British Merlin, an almanac compiled by Cardanus Rider that was published yearly from the mid-17th century until at least 1830. Cardanus Rider was likely a pseudonym for Richard Saunders, an English astronomer and doctor who was born in 1613 and whose actual date of death is unknown.  This 1701 Merlin was sitting in our backlog until recently.

photo 5


The almanac is printed in red and black and the only annotations are little circles or small notations next to some dates. Though the bookbinder attached an extra inch or so to the bottom of each page, to make room for the owner to write notes, there isn’t any writing on them.  The bookbinder also added a few other things that make this book particularly interesting.


The front and back covers, which are both decorated with gold filigree and little acorns (there are a lot of cute acorns on the spine too), also have metal bosses imprinted with a floral design.  When you turn the book to open it, you realize that these are attached to ring clasps that are fastened with a metal rod with a flat top…

photo 1

… which isn’t actually just a metal rod, but a stylus for writing on the erasable pages within the book.  Made out of specially coated paper, erasable pages and tablets were very common at the time this British Merlin was bound.

photo 3The page on the right is an erasable one and you can still see some traces of notes even though they have been erased.  There are only 4 erasable pages in this volume, but you can see from traces like those above that they were used quite heavily.

photo 4

All of the above features are interesting and notable, but one of the most interesting things about this item is the manuscript account book written on the book’s blank pages.  Kept by what appears to be a young (or young-ish) man living somewhere outside of London, the account book often records destinations visited and the costs of renting horses or coaches to get there – you can see a number of place names on the page above.  This page also records 2 shillings and sixpence “for chocolate,” 17 shillings “for a sword” and 5 shillings “lost at cards.”  Unfortunately enough for the book’s owner, “lost at cards” or “lost at tables” are recorded many times and “won at cards” isn’t recorded anywhere that I could find.

The Clark owns many hybrid volumes like this one (like the winegrower’s journal/bookseller’s catalogs featured last week) and our current practice is to catalog both the printed Rider’s British Merlin and the account book separately, so researchers looking for either one will be sure to find this item.

Cardanus Rider, Riders (1701) British Merlin, London: Edw. Jones for the Company of Stationers, 1701 and [Account and memoranda book], 1700-1707, Call no. AY751 .R52 1701, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, UCLA.

From Rebecca Fenning Marschall, Manuscript & Archives Librarian


Books and wine at the Clark

September 12, 2014

With the summer winding down and the harvest season fast approaching it seems like a good time to highlight a treasure at The Clark which directly observes harvest seasons of the past.  This hybrid manuscript is both a record of a vineyard’s yield as well as a look into a bookseller’s catalog.


This hybrid manuscript is comprised of several printed catalogues from 18th century Geneva booksellers Fabri & Barrillot dating from 1725-1728.  Some of the catalogs here are fragmentary but do exhibit annotations which appear to have come from booksellers who had may have had this collection in 1728 in order to conduct inventory work.


This manuscript gets even more interesting when you look at the many unprinted pages found throughout the bound fragments of the booksellers’ catalogs.  Here, an anonymous land-owner and winemaker from the Burgundy region of France has hand-recorded details of his business and accounts including: tenants, harvest yields, wine sales, and livestock.  The vintner’s records specifically include details of his grape harvest year after year.  This book of record includes entries dating from 1765 into the revolutionary era with 1795 as the last date noted.


In a time when paper was harder to come by the wine merchant very cleverly re-used these catalogs and fortuitously created this fascinating manuscript blend. This manuscript is a small opening into the world of bookselling as well as farming in the early 18th century in France.  The Fabri & Barrillot catalogs of that time are rare and the annotations may present an original window into the booksellers’ world.  The vintner’s book of record as an artefact offers accounts of vineyards and the wine trade in the Burgundy region.  This curious assembly offers an interesting testimony on both the book and wine trade in the 18th century.

Clark Library Call Number MS.2008.007


By Reading Room Assistant Stella Castillo

Mexican Manuscripts at the Clark

August 14, 2014

By Reading Room Assistant Stella Castillo

A lesser known holding here at The Clark is the Mexican Manuscripts Collection comprised of documents dating from 1579-1828 regarding the Spanish settlement and colonization of California, New Mexico, and one document from 1802 concerning Louisiana. The collection of 29 manuscripts written in Spanish cover issues relating to establishment of missions, Native American unrest, expeditions, travels, and political events in Alta and Baja California. Although the dates of the collection range from 1579 to 1828, the bulk of material is from 1750-1799. Included among the 29 manuscripts are estimates of voyage costs in and around the new colonies. Here a contract proposal from Don to sail a small ship from Acapulco to Alta California which notes conditions and estimates for the voyage.


The collection includes various first hand descriptions of California and the process of colonization, missions, and interactions of the Spanish missionaries and government with the native people. The descriptions of the discoveries include those made along the west coast from the lower section of California nearly to Alaska along the coast prior to 1776. Within some of the descriptions are Spanish perspectives on interactions both contentious and friendly with various groups of Native American people including Comanche, Apache, Yumas and Pecos. In particular there are reflections on the war against the Apache Indians throughout the provinces of New Spain.


Above is a portion of a document outlining the military and civil governments of Upper and Lower California in September 1829 which is said to be written in the hand of Augustin Juan Vicente Zamorano, who was then Secretary to the Governor of Alta California, Jose Maria de Echeandia, whose signature appears on the document. As a point of interest: Zamorano established California’s first printing press at Monterey in 1834 and it is from him that the Los Angeles club of book collectors took its name.


Of interest as well is a contract between Don Juan de Oñate, who would go on to become the first governor of New Mexico, and Don Luis de Velasco who was the Viceroy of New Spain in 1595. The contract details what provisions would need to be taken and what laws are to govern the expedition. The collection is an interesting window into the colonization process by the Spanish government and the religious establishment as there are documents written by both Jesuits and Franciscans included in the collection.

L’archive du tombeau de Louis Menard

July 3, 2014

Le tombeau de Louis Ménard and A propos du tombeau de Louis Ménard were among the first things I cataloged when I began working at the Clark 6 years ago and they were a great introduction to the wide variety of formats in the Clark’s manuscript collections.  Though these two companion volumes look like innocent codex manuscripts, bound in red morocco with fancy marbled endpapers, they are anything but normal bound manuscripts —

photo 3

— they are actually a bound archive.

In 1901 and 1902, French publisher and writer Edouard Champion compiled the book Le tombeau de Louis Ménard in honor of the writer, scholar and chemist Louis-Nicholas Ménard (1822-1901).  The published book itself is made up of letters from prominent scholarly, literary and political figures regarding Ménard and his legacy, and appropriately enough, Champion bound his copy of Le tombeau with an assortment of letters and calling cards from the book’s contributors and other well-wishers.  There was enough material in this archive to make a second volume of calling cards and letters, A propos du tombeau de Louis Ménard.  Individuals represented in the Tombeau archive include Georges Clemenceau, Remy de Gourmont, Robert Comte de Montesquiou, Léon Bloy, Jean Bertheroy, and Maurice Barrès, just to name a few.

photo 3

Sully Prudhomme’s calling card pictured in the front

As in any archive of correspondence, the letters and items gathered together by Champion range widely in size, making the job of binding a somewhat onerous task.  How do you bind together material that is so varied size-wise?  You could just paste everything in a scrapbook larger than the biggest piece of paper in the archive, but that would result in lost text when double-sided letters get pasted down (and most items in this archive are written on both sides).  The solution Champion’s bookbinder settled on was pretty perfect for this particular project.  Instead of trying to work with the pages of the archive itself, the bookbinder bound together a set of short stubby pages onto which the materials in the archive are glued.

photo 5

Of course, the easiest option would have been to keep all of these letters in a box, like a traditional archive.  But Champion clearly wanted to have these letters housed in a more bookish way (fitting, given his profession) and I am glad he did, as these two volumes are fascinating objects.  They are arguably easier to casually browse than a box of letters might be, and they easily fit on a shelf alongside other books.

photo 4

Edouard Champion, collector, Le tombeau de Louis Ménard and A propos du tombeau de Louis Ménard, MS.2008.004 and MS.2008.005, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, UCLA.


Sometimes, Books Lie (Part One: Title Pages)

May 8, 2014

We are often told that we can trust printed books, that the process by which their content has been compiled, vetted, and published is a process that filters out subterfuge, half-truths, and misleading gambits. This is not always (or even mostly) the case. Printed matter is the output of human endeavor and humans have biases, make errors, believe untruths, and outright lie in their printed vehicles.

Experienced researchers know this all too well. Once you realize that a book is telling you something that seems suspect, you can research further to determine if it is lying. Those who study the early modern period have a host of examples from which to play with conceptions of veracity and the circulation of ideas. Yet, novice researchers may not know what to do or where to start, and this blog post is for them.

Sometimes, books are in on the subterfuge of their creators, and they are lying for a reason. One example of such subterfuge is the false imprint, or, the lying title page. In a recent undergraduate class held at the Clark, we showed the students John Milton’s Pro populo Anglicano defensio,  printed in London in 1651. Why might a book printed in England be written in Latin? How can I find out more?

Milton, Pro populo anglicano defensio

My first stop is the English Short Title Catalogue (or, “ESTC”), where I searched for the title of the work. The ESTC returned three different possibilities, so I looked more closely at the three to determine which is the one I have in my hands. (This happens often with early modern books that were published in multiple editions or by different publishers.) I looked very closely at the titles of each of them. Since the title page in the Clark copy notes that it contains an index (“Cum Indice“), I am able to determine that this record matches: Happily, the ESTC record has loads of information for me, including that the book was published in Amsterdam, not in London, and was published not be William Dugard (“Typis Dv Gardianis”), but by Louis Elzevier. (See the “Publisher/year” and “General note” fields.)

So, this book is lying about where and by whom it was published. Since it is purporting to be something other than what it is, the next question is why. In this case, the ESTC record helps me again. It gives me a citation to two articles written by scholar F.F. Madan who researched the publication history of this particular work. Thanks to the UCLA Library having a license to access the electronic version of these articles and holding paper copies at various library locations, I have easy access to Madan’s research.

Madan notes that there are multiple editions of this treatise, most of which are not published in London by William Dugard at all. Looking through Madan’s numbered list of editions and variants, the Clark’s copy is clearly no. 6. (I did not need to look this up this, however, since the ESTC record lists it as Madan no. 6. Indeed, if you look at the very bottom of the Clark’s catalog record, you’ll see the notation “Madan 6” as well, but now you’ll know what that means.)

Also according to Madan, this work was “the official reply of the Parliament to the Defensio Regia of Salmasius, which was having a serious effect upon public opinion on the Continent.” (F.F. Madan, “Milton, Salmasius, and Dugard” in The Library, ser.4 vol.4 (1923), p. 119.) And the year 1651 was in the midst of the English Civil War, with King Charles I beheaded in 1649 and Parliament appointing Oliver Cromwell as chair of the new Commonwealth’s Council of State. This work was published amidst intense turmoil over the power of the monarchy, with John Milton responding for the side of Parliament, which hoped to sway public opinion both in England and abroad in its favor. And, the learned European audience for such a work was much more likely to read Latin than English.

What does the publishing history of this treatise, with its Latin text, many editions, and lying title pages, tell us about the purpose of the treatise and the period more generally? To help answer these and similar questions, explore the myriad resources at your disposal via UCLA Librarian Marta Brunner’ s incredibly useful British History research guide.

Marie Antoinette and Jacques-Louis David at the Clark

April 16, 2014

By Karie Jenkins, Clark Reading Room Assistant

You never know what great treasures you will come across at the Clark. When discussing the art collection with a colleague this morning, he informed me that we have two watercolor sketches of Marie Antoinette by Jacques-Louis David.  The Death of Marat, perhaps David’s most famous painting, has been called the Pietà of the Revolution.

Death of Marat

The Death of Marat

Intrigued and delighted by this snippet of information, I immediately had to see the drawings for myself. Within moments, I was whisked away to the Clark’s “French Green Room” where the sketches are hung adjacent to one another. Once we turned the corner and walked into the room we were greeted by the queen’s image, both faint and partial.

Both sketches seemingly accentuate Marie Antoinette’s exquisite sense of fashion and her imperial disposition. The first image I came across was of her standing and resting her hand gently on the back of a chair. The rendering of her attire and physique looks as though the sketch was taken straight out of a fashion illustrator’s notebook. Each garment is carefully labeled and assigned colors, thus demonstrating David’s creative process in composing this image. The second sketch is a portrait of Marie Antoinette. Detached and disinterested, she gazes away from the viewer with her head turned to the side. And naturally, her hair and head piece are piled high thus granting her the stature and royalty definitive to her essence. Of the two sketches, only the image of her standing is dated 1793, which was the ominous year she met her demise. Right above the date David wrote, “Marie Antoinette dans La Conciergerie.”

131125_07: [Portrait of Marie Antoinette] [art original]. 1793.

If you recall, Conciergerie was the infamous prison which Marie- Antoinette was brought before her trial. She was given less than a day to prepare and received no sympathy from the courts or the public. Once the verdict was reached, she was found guilty of treason and was immediately swept away to the guillotine. David had two months to sketch the queen while she was still alive and living in her cell. Even after she had long fallen from grace, David proceeded to imbue her image with the likeness of an angel or a saint. After all, she was the mother of France and what was a son to do?131125_12: [Portrait of Marie Antoinette] [art original]. 179-?

David’s sketches are fascinating and thanks to Professor Todd L. Larkin at Montana State University they have been the topic of discussion here at The Clark. Larkin contacted us requesting a reproduction of the sketches to which he encountered as a graduate student at UC Santa Barbara. On November 24th his request was fulfilled when a photographer came to The Clark to capture a couple of shots of the jail-bird queen. Unlike most pieces in our collection, the David sketches cannot simply be removed from their frames. A couple of years back, the library decided to bolt the frames to the walls in case of an earthquake to avoid any harm or damage to the sketches.

David’s Marie Antoinette sketches will permanently remain on display and we welcome our guests and scholars to stop by and admire them.

Napoleon (not at the Clark!)

Napoleon (not at the Clark!)


To give or not to give

April 11, 2014

By Cataloging Assistant Alejandro Sanchez Nunez

This week I had the opportunity to help catalog some of the Shakespeare books that Paul Chrzanowski recently donated to the Clark Library. Working with these books reminded me that whenever I am editing catalog entries, I inevitably stop and smile every time I see a field containing the phrase “gift of”.

The Clark is very fortunate to have had many generous donors over the years, and it is these gifts that have helped develop the wonderful collection we have today. In fact, its history starts with one such generous gift, Mr. Clark donating his books, library building, and home to the University of California in 1926.

I imagine that donating a personal library is not an easy decision given the sentimental and monetary value those books hold. But I think the feeling of reward that comes from knowing the books will be used and enjoyed by others far outweighs any feeling of doubt as to whether to give or not to give.

To Mr. Chrzanowski, Mr. Clark, and all donors to the Clark and UCLA Libraries… thank you!

Job Instructions for our Defense Contractors

April 2, 2014

By Nina M. Schneider, Head Cataloger

Recently, the news has been filled with reports of the possibility of a new Cold War, while at the same time updating us about the ongoing search for Malaysian Airlines’ missing jet. It might be a coincidence then, that while cataloging Ward Ritchie’s Library, our interns ran across job instruction booklets from the early days of the Douglas Aircraft Company.

Three-quarters of the way through her 30-month internship, Patricia Garcia discovered an incomplete set of printed instructions published in 1943 by the Education Department of The Douglas Aircraft Company. Job Instruction No. 1: Safetying with Cotter Pins explains the right way to “safety a bolt” and “how to safety a clevis pin” with hand-drawn illustrations, printed in red and black.


Job Instruction No. 2: Riveting, emphasizes the importance of the matching the tool to the rivet and the deadly consequence of laziness, inattentiveness, or hiding a broken part.


The Clark has two copies of the second pamphlet, one produced for Douglas Aircraft, the other for the Education Department of the Consolidated-Vultee Aircraft Corp, Vultee Field Division. Both covers feature a photograph of a female employee (the original Rosie?) using a rivet gun. Interestingly, the copy produced for Douglas Aircraft has an altered cover. The woman’s hair is covered by a hairnet, but a hairnet that is printed letterpress.



The Clark also has two copies of Job Instruction No. 3: Drilling. This time, the model is wearing an actual hairnet for the cover photo as she wields what looks like a 40-pound drill while wearing a cashmere cardigan over a lace-edged blouse. In fact, many of the booklets that we have from the defense contractor feature instructions for women.


Job Instruction No. 9: Hints to Women Aircraft Workers stresses the importance of workplace safety and life-style practices. Looking at this book seventy years later makes us cringe. Of course, some of the advice is common sense; new working habits and different types of physical labor will likely result in sore muscles and fatigue. However, the manual warns that fatigue should be avoided because it leads to mistakes, and mistakes can be deadly. Their advice: Eat something sweet for a boost of energy, stretch, or take a hot bath, and “don’t wear yourself out on exercise.” This booklet also shows some stretches that can be done for “menstrual adjustments.” In the mix of diagrams and cartoons about the proper way to lift heavy loads, work ergonomically, and properly handle tools, are hints on makeup, shoes, and jewelry in the workplace, the importance of daily baths and using deodorant, and the types and proper amounts of food consumed in a daily diet.

Contrast this booklet with Job Instruction No. 11: X Marks the Spot. Fully illustrated in black, red, and blue, employees are menaced on every page by the lurking presence of caricaturized monsters from Japan and Germany.


Long, loose hair can be caught in moving drills bits, zoot suits have too many pockets, neckties invite disaster when operating lathes, and wedding rings can get caught in a revolving chuck.



In fact, all sorts of disasters can happen when employees don’t follow regulations or improperly use heavy equipment. The enemy is just waiting for disaster to happen!



The font is a modern, bold, sans serif face for each booklet. Uniformly sized in an 8×5” format, with rounded fore-edge corners and a stapled spine, these booklets were likely designed and printed by Ward Ritchie.

As stated in the biographical sketch for the Ward Ritchie collection of papers: Ritchie became one of the principal figures in the fine-printing movement in Southern California. [A native of Los Angeles, he studied at Occidental College and Stanford and spent a semester at Frank Wiggins Trade School learning to print. After an apprenticeship in France, he returned to Los Angeles and] printed for the Primavera Press, [while taking] commissions as the Ward Ritchie Press, which he incorporated in 1932. Gregg Anderson entered into partnership, and the printing firm was subsequently called Anderson & Ritchie, with the name Ward Ritchie Press being retained for publishing ventures. At the outbreak of World War II, Anderson joined the Army (he was killed in 1944), and Ritchie left the press for Douglas Aircraft, where he produced technical manuals. … Between 1943 and 1950 Ritchie worked as production manager at the advertising agency Foote, Cone and Belding, though he remained associated with the press and did designs for them. In 1950 he returned to the press full-time, and the firm (renamed Anderson, Ritchie & Simon) kept growing until Ritchie retired in 1972. … In his retirement, in Laguna Beach, he bought a hand press and began printing small editions himself under the name Laguna Verde Imprenta. He died early in 1996 [leaving behind two wives, two children, three step-children and his close friend, Gloria Stuart].

Douglas Aircraft Company was founded in 1921 and was headquartered in Santa Monica. It became McDonnell Douglas when it merged with McDonnell Aircraft in 1967.

For more information on the Ward Ritchie Library, search “Press coll. Ritchie Lib.” as a call number in the UCLA Library catalog. See also the online finding aid for his papers.

For more information about Douglas Aircraft, see the Museum of Flight’s website.


Broadsides From Oyez Press

February 25, 2014

By Reader Services Assistant, David Eng

Oyez Press was founded in 1964 by Robert Hawley and Stevens van Strum in Berkeley, California. Its inaugural run was a series of 10 broadsides featuring poems by Michael McClure, Brother Antoninus, Josephine Miles, Robert Duncan, Robert Creeley, David Meltzer, Denise Levertov, Charles Olson, Gary Snyder and William Bronk. These broadsides were printed by Dave Haselwood’s Auerhahn Press based in San Francisco. Oyez would continue to publish books for over 20 years by poets primarily from the Black Mountain school and the Bay Area Renaissance. For more information regarding the history of Oyez Press, check out the finding aid for the University of Connecticut’s collection. All images can be enlarged by clicking on them.

Postcard announcing the broadside series. Recto is postmarked June 1, 1964 and addressed to Dr. Lawrence Clark Powell. A handwritten note reads "Clark lib. to place standing order."

Postcard announcing the broadside series. Recto is postmarked June 1, 1964 and addressed to Dr. Lawrence Clark Powell. A handwritten note reads “Clark lib. to place standing order.”