The title promises something dry and practical, and the poem plays along with that tone while quietly doing something stranger. The speaker lists a few small habits, as if they were household budgeting tips: bring things to hunt, meet others in books, tend a mind "printed in ink." The last line, "to save money," lands almost like a punchline, because none of these activities are really about money at all.
What comes through is a speaker who lives largely in reading and thought. People are met on the page rather than in person. Even the mind is imagined as something printed, as though the speaker has become made of books. "Hunt" gives that inner life a hungry, searching energy, though the poem doesn't say what is being hunted.
The mood is dry, wry, and a little lonely. The humor of calling a bookish life a cost-cutting measure hints that the speaker may be making a joke to cover something more wistful, but the poem leaves that for the reader to decide.