(sigh) My great-aunt lives in a crumbling Victorian masterpiece in a historic district (her house has two kitchens. Two kitchens!) Her study is lined with her father’s barrister bookshelves–she must have a dozen, at least.
My mother has one. The top shelf, of the four, has leaded glass, the rest regular. And there’s a drawer at the bottom. She rescued it from her mother’s chicken house, of all places, and had an antique restorer carve a new foot for one that was broken.