"Do not expect or demand perfect quiet. Frequent tapping upon the desk excites the children and betrays nervousness on the part of the person in charge. Let the discipline of the room seem to be incidental; let the child feel that it is first and foremost a library where books are to be had for the asking, and that you are there to make it easier to get them.

"Never call children's numbers, but use their names if necessary, though a glance of recognition pleases them better. Do not force acquaintance. Children like it even less than grown people. Be sympathetic and responsive, but beware of mannerism or effusiveness. Remember, too, that questioning is a fine art, and one should take care not to offend.

"Speed is not the first requisite at a children's desk. Children have more patience with necessary formalities than grown people.

"Let some of the children help in the work of the room, but do not urge them to do so.

"Avoid stereotyped forms of expression when reproving a child or conversing with him. Let him feel you are speaking to him personally; he will not feel this if he hears the same words used for 50 other boys."

For evening work, when there is no circulation of books: "read to them sometimes; talk to them at others; and sometimes leave them quite alone. They are more appreciative when they find you are leaving work to give them pleasure than they would be if they found you were making their pleasure your work."

These are a few of the instructions or suggestions consequent upon daily observation and experience. Doubtless every children's librarian could supplement them with many more, but they are enough to show what I mean by "thoughtful administration."

Occasionally the librarian who serves children will have to take account of stock, sum up the changes for better or for worse in the use and treatment of the room, in the manners and habits of the children and in their reading. She will have to retire a little from her work, take a bird's-eye view of it, and decide if on the whole progress is making toward her ideal. Without identifying itself with any of the movements such as the kindergarten, child-study, and social settlement, without losing control of itself and resigning itself to any outside guidance, the children's library should still absorb what is to its purpose in the work of all these agencies. "This one thing I do," the librarian may have to keep reminding herself, to keep from being drawn off into other issues, but by standing a little apart she may see what is to her advantage without being sucked in by the draft as some enthusiastic movement sweeps by. Must she have no enthusiasm? Yes, indeed; but is not that a better enthusiasm which enables one to work on steadily for years with undiminished courage than the kind that exhausts itself in the great vivacity of its first feeling and effort?

It will not be long after the opening of the children's library before an insight will be gained into domestic interiors and private lives that will make the librarian wish she could follow many a child to his home, in order to secure for him and his something better than the few hours' respite from practical life which they may get from the reading of books. When the boy who steals and the girl who is vicious before they are in their teens, have to be sent away lest other children suffer, it is borne in upon the librarian that a staff of home-missionaries connected with the library to follow up and minister in such cases would not be a bad thing--and she has to remind herself again and again that it is not inc.u.mbent on any one person to attempt everything, and that Providence has other instrumentalities at work besides herself. The humors of the situation, on the other hand, are many. The boys who, being sent home to wash their hands, return in an incredibly short time with purified palms and suppressed giggles, and on persistent inquiry confess, "We just licked 'em," present to one who is "particular"

only a serio-comic aspect; and the little squirrel who wriggles to the top of the librarian's chair until he can reach her ear, and then whispers into it, "There couldn't be no library here 'thout you, could there?" is not altogether laughable; but incidents of pure comedy are occasionally to be set over against the serious side.

Last spring, with a view to gaining information directly in the answers to our questions and indirectly in the light the answers should throw on the character of the children, we chose 150 boys and girls who were regularly using the library and sent to them a series of questions to be answered in writing. They were apparently greatly pleased to be consulted in this way, and it seemed to us that very few of the replies were insincere in tone, or intended merely to win approbation. From the 100 replies worth any consideration I have drawn these specimen answers:

One of the first questions we asked was, "How long have you been using the library?" Of 100 who answered, 25 had used the library more than six months, 33 more than a year, 22 more than two years, 11 more than three years, nine more than four years, and one six years, since books were first given out to children. Many children first hear of the library when they are 13 and over, and after 14 they have the use of the main library, so that in their case the time of use is necessarily shorter. However, if a child has not done with the children's library by the time he is 14, we allow him to continue using it until he wishes to be transferred.

Of 100 children, 68 reported that other members of their families used the library, while 32 reported themselves the only borrowers. This is interesting in connection with their answers to the question, "Does any one at home or at school tell you good books to read?" 71 reported yes and 29 no, about the same proportion. In many families the parents are of a mental calibre or at a stage in education to enjoy books written for children, and we have found that children often drew books with their parents' tastes in view. One little girl whose own tastes led her to select a charming little book on natural history was sent back with it by an aunt who said it was not suitable and requested one of the semi-demi-novels that are provided for quite young girls, as being much more appropriate. The difficulty in keeping "hands off" in a case where grown people are thus influencing children injuriously can be fully appreciated only by one who knows and cares for the children.

Fifty-seven children reported that they were read to at home or that they read to their younger brothers and sisters, while 43 stated that their reading was a pleasure all to themselves. The large number who shared their reading was a pleasant surprise to us, evincing a companionship at home that we had hardly antic.i.p.ated.

Twenty-eight children stated that they preferred to have help in selecting their books, 63 that they preferred to make their own choice, while nine said it depended. 49 said that they came to the library to get help in writing their compositions or in other school-work, while 51 said they did not, one proudly a.s.serting, "I am capable of writing all my compositions myself," and another, seeming to think help a sort of disgrace, "I do not come to the library for help about anything at all."

Seventy out of the 100 children answering used no library but ours--the others made use of their Sunday-school libraries also.

An inquiry as to the books read since New Year's, the questions being sent out in May, brought out the fact that an average of six books in the four and a half months had been read--not a bad average, considering that it was during term-time in the schools, when studies take up much of the child's otherwise spare time.

Boys proved to prefer history and books of adventure, travel and biography, to any other cla.s.s of reading; girls, books about boys and girls, fairy stories and poetry. The tastes of the boys on the whole were more wholesome, and the girls need most help here.

It is not at all unlikely that it is chiefly the wars and combats in history which make it interesting to the boys, as they seem to go through a sanguinary phase in their development that nothing else will satisfy; but many of them will get their history in no other way, and since wars have been prominent in the past it is of no use to disguise the fact. Fairness to both sides would seem to be the essential in the writing of these children's histories and historical tales, since the ability to stop and deliberate and to make allowances is rare even in grown people and needs cultivation.

The question as to the best book the child had ever read brought in a bewildering variety of answers, proving beyond a doubt that there had been no copying or using of other children's opinions.

While no list can be given, the reasons they offered in response to a request for them were often interesting. Girls wrote of "Little women": "It is so real, the characters are so real and sweet." "I feel as if I could act the whole book." "This story has helped me a very great deal in leading a better and a happier life." "It shows us how to persevere," etc. Boys like "The Swiss family Robinson" "because it describes accurately the points of a shipwreck and graphically describes how a man with common sense can make the best of everything." Another, "because it shows how some people made the most of what they had." Another, "It shows how progressive the people were." One liked "Uncle Tom's cabin"

"because it describes life among the colored people and shows how they were treated before the war"; another, "because it is a true story and some parts of it are pitiful and other parts are pleasant." A boy of 12 says of "Grimm's fairy tales," "They are interesting to read, and I learn there is no one to give you wings and sandals to fly--you have to make your own." Another likes "John Halifax" "because it tells how a boy who had pluck obtained what he wanted and made his mark in the world." "Pluck,"

I imagine, in a boy's mind stands for the old virtue of the poets, "magnanimity," that included all the rest. Harper's story-books are still read and appreciated "because they tell me about different kinds of people's ways, about animals, and a little about history." Another child "learned games out of them, and how to tell the truth and the use of the truth."

A child of eight puts in a pathetic plea worth considering for the Prudy books, "because I understand them better than any books I have read." An incipient author says that she uses the library because "I make a good deal of stories and find pretty ideas."

Perhaps the most enlightening replies came in answer to the question, "Can you suggest anything which would make the library more interesting that it is now?" One delightfully rea.s.suring boy says, "I like the children's library to stay just the same, and a boy who never went there would like it. I'll bring more boys."

"Pictures of art" are requested, and "a set of curiosities from all parts of the world." As we regard the children of all nationalities and types crowding about the desk on our busy days we sometimes think we already have this latter item. "A prize for the best story every month." "More histories." "Pictures of noted men on the walls." "More fairy-tales." "More magazines." "Books showing how to draw." "A pencil fastened to each table." "Stories in Scottish history." "More books of adventure." "More funny books." "A chart of real and genuine foreign stamps." "Lectures for children between 10 and 14, with experiments accompanying them." "A one-hour lecture once a week by noted men on different subjects." "A book giving the value of celebrated paintings."

"More books. The shelves look bare," as indeed they do after a rush-day. "Rules to keep the children in order," from a nine-year-old who has doubtless suffered. "Not to be disturbed by other boys for unknown crimes," says one mysterious victim of something or other. "Historical fiction." "Catholic books."

"Tanks with fishes, in the windows." "An aquarium; children would enjoy seeing pollywogs change to frogs every time they came to the library." This is the comment of a little girl, I am glad to say. "School-books." "More amus.e.m.e.nt for little children." This was before we bought our linen picture-books. And the "Elsie books," and Oliver Optic, and Castlemon are vainly desired by two or three. The general sentiment is pretty well voiced by one child who says, "The library is just perfect in about every respect."

We feel that with this enumeration of desiderata, the children's library has its work cut out for it for some time to come, and that these evidences of the children's likings and needs have removed a certain vagueness from our ambitions. With lectures and experiments, reading clubs, and possibly original stories, in contemplation, there is no danger of rust from inaction, especially as to obtain any one of these there are serious obstacles to overcome. But always and everywhere the library should put forward its proper claim of the value and use of the book--though in the word book I by no means include all that goes under the name. If there are lectures with experiments or lantern-slides, they should be attended by information as to the best literature on the subject and the children encouraged to investigate what has been printed, as well as to take in through the ear. There is no "digging" in lecture-going, and it is "digging" that leaves a permanent impression on the mind. The lecture should stimulate to personal research. From reading aloud together at the library in the evening, reading clubs may come to be formed, each with a specialty, decided by the tastes of the members. The writing of stories, particularly if the library selected the subject, might be made the occasion of the use of histories, biographies, travels, etc. Quiet games in the evening for the older children, of a nature to require the use of reference-books, would be strictly within the library's province.

Personal talks with the children about their reading, if judiciously conducted, are always in order. With a generation of children influenced in this way to use books as tools and a mental resource as well as for recreation, and to find recreation only in the best-written books, the library const.i.tuency of the future would be worthy of the best library that could be imagined.

The bulletin-board is attracting attention generally as a means of interesting children in topics of current interest, and such a periodical as Harper's Weekly is invaluable when it comes to securing ill.u.s.trations for this purpose. Sandwiched in among the pictures, we have occasionally smuggled in a printed paragraph of useful information or a set of verses, and our latest move, to induce more general reading of the periodicals, has been to a.n.a.lyze their contents on the bulletin, under the head of "Animals," "Sports," "Engines," "Short stories," "Long stories,"

etc. Boys who "know what they like" are beginning to turn to this a.n.a.lysis to see if there is anything new on their favorite topic and to explain the workings of the board to other boys, and the desired end is gradually being brought about. As the references are taken down to make way for new ones, they are filed away by subject, making the beginnings of a permanent reference list.

Birds, the new magazine with its colored plates, is a boon for the children's room, The Great Round World is good for the a.s.sistant-in-charge and the teachers who come to the room, as well as for the children.

In order to add to the number of books without overstepping our rules as to quality, we are beginning, though not yet very systematically, to look over the works of certain authors of grown-up books with a view to finding material that can be understood sufficiently by children to interest them. A number of Stevenson's books can be given to boys and girls, and we hope to find many others. Most children, I think, read books without knowing who has written them, and if we can induce them to learn to know authors and can interest them in a writer like Stevenson, we can feel fairly secure that they will not drop him when they are transferred from the children's room to the main library.

Perhaps it is best always to have a working hypothesis to begin with, in children's libraries as elsewhere; but we can a.s.sure those who have not tried it that facts are stubborn things, and the hypothesis has frequently to be made over in accordance with newly-observed facts, and theories may or may not be proven correct. The whole subject is as yet in the empirical stage, and the way must be felt from day to day. If the children's librarian lives in a continual rush, what "leisure to grow wise" on her chosen subject does she have? and if she is hurried constantly from one child to another, what chance have the children for learning by contact with the individual? which, as Mr. Horace E.

Scudder truly says, is the method most sure of results. This contact may be had most naturally, it seems to us, through the ordinary channels of waiting on the children, provided it is quiet, deliberate waiting upon them. We go out of our way to think out new philanthropies and are too likely to forget that, as we go about our every-day business, natural opportunities are constantly presenting for strengthening our knowledge of and our hold upon the people who come to us--who are sent to us, I might almost say.

The registry and the charging-desks offer chances for acquaintance to begin naturally and unconsciously and for much incidental imparting of seed-thoughts. And it is in these every-day chances, if appreciated and made the most of, that the work of the children's library is going to tell. The necessity of especial training in psychology, pedagogy, child study, and kindergarten ideas, has been treated of recently in a paper before the A. L. A. There is no doubt that the "called" worker in this field will be better for scientific training, but let him or her first be sure of the call. It is quite as serious as one to the ministry, if not more so, and no amount of intellectual training will make up for the lack of patience and fairness and of a genuine interest in children and realization of their importance in the general scheme.

To sum up, the requisites for the ideal children's library, as we begin to see it, are suitable books, plenty of room, plenty of a.s.sistance, and thoughtful administration. Better a number of children's libraries scattered over a town or city than a large central one, since only in this way can the children be divided up so as to make individual attention to them easy. But if it devolves upon one library to do the work for the entire town, and branches are out of the question, something of the same result may be obtained by providing at certain hours an extra number of a.s.sistants. I can imagine a large room with several desks, at each of which should preside an a.s.sistant having charge of only certain cla.s.ses of books, so that in time she might come to be an authority on historical or biographical or scientific or literary books for children, and the children might learn to go to her as their specialist on the cla.s.s of books they cared most for.

Perhaps this may sound Utopian. I believe there are libraries present and to come for which it is entirely practicable.

THE GROWING TENDENCY TO OVER-EMPHASIZE THE CHILDREN'S SIDE

An investigation of rural libraries in North Carolina and of library work with children in Boston and New England towns led Miss Caroline Matthews, a member of the Examining Committee of the Public Library of Boston to believe that "exaggerated leaning toward one phase of library work must throw out of the true the work as a whole." The following paper explaining her conclusions was read before the Ma.s.sachusetts Library Club in October, 1907.

Caroline Matthews was born in Boston in 1855. She has contributed articles to the Educational Review and to the Atlantic Monthly.

Miss Matthews is at present living in Switzerland.

I have been asked to speak on this subject, not because I have professional or technical knowledge of the subject to be discussed, but rather because I have not. This does not mean that I have no knowledge whatever of this or other phases of library work. It simply means that the little knowledge I do possess is non-professional, and that my impressions, points of view, conclusions, are wholly those of an outsider.

Up to three years ago I had had no connection with public libraries beyond being an occasional borrower of books. Then suddenly, through making a comparative study of the financing of public school systems here and in France, I found myself in touch with the public schools of an American city, and through them with the school deposits of the Public Library of the same city.

Even so, I did not come in touch with the library side of the work. It was always the school or teachers' side, or the pupils'

side, never any other.

The second year I became a member of the Examining Committee of the Public Library of the city of Boston. My position on this committee for my first year of service was a minor one. There was never anything very important to do, certainly not enough to keep up one's interest to the point of being a live interest.

Moreover, I spent the winter away from town. But I had the great good fortune to pa.s.s it in the mountains of North Carolina. There I lived for weeks at a time in the homes and cabins of the mountain whites. I knew the men their wives, their children. I visited the logging camps, the mines, the missions, the mills, the schools. The life was rough, but it was worth while. It gave me an intimate knowledge of the social surroundings of the people, and I found the one vital problem, the problem touching the citizen the nearest, to be that of the rural school, and affiliated with the rural school, though affiliated in a crude way, was the library.

Thus, for the second time in my life, I came into contact with the library by means of the school. This coincidence led me to think, and I reasoned out that library workers North and South must be working along similar lines toward unity in practice.

Both were doing educative work. And both, apparently, had the same goal--the reaching of the parent or adult through the child or through child growth.

How far such work was legitimate work, how far such work had intellectual or educational value, how far such work lacked or had balance, I now wished to determine. To do this it was necessary to a.s.sume some line of active investigation; also to study results from the standpoint of the library, as well as from that of the school and the citizen.

There was no need to search for a subject. I had it at hand.

Living as I did with the people I found myself in the very center of the rural library movement--a movement so splendid in conception; so successful in results, if statistics are credited; so direct as to method, the entire appropriation being expended on but two things, books and bookcases; so naively simple as to administration, there being neither librarians, libraries, or pay-rolls--that a study of it could not fail to prove helpful.

What were the actual conditions? First, the name "rural libraries" I found a misnomer. It in no sense represents facts.

The words imply community interests, interests alike of adult and child, whilst the reality is that these libraries are simply school deposits, composed wholly of "juvenile books," graded up to but not beyond the seventh grade. When one realizes that these books reach a total of 200,000 volumes, that they are sent to people living in scattered communities strung shoe-string fashion high along mountain ridges--back and apart from civilization-- to a people of rugged character, demanding strength in books as in life, capable of appreciating strength, one sees what a stupendous opportunity for community uplift has been wasted, and one stands aghast at the folly, economic and intellectual, of the limitations imposed. Why should children alone be considered? And if they alone are to be considered why should they be fed nothing but "juvenile" literature? It is both over-emphasis and false emphasis of the most harmful kind.

Second, far and away the most interesting phase of this library work in North Carolina is that the whole movement lies outside of the hands of professionally trained librarians. To understand why this is so it is necessary to turn to the Department of Education. Education in North Carolina is a state affair and centralized, the state being for all practical purposes autocratic in every educational matter. Decentralization has set in to the extent of admitting local taxation; otherwise education in North Carolina to-day is as highly centralized as it is in France. There is no difference whatever between the power of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction at Raleigh, and that of the Minister of Public Instruction in France. Such being the case it is but natural that the rural library movement should be absorbed by the state, incorporated into the Department of Education, and administered by the State Superintendent of Public Instruction. Neither would it be wise to change this. It would be wise, however, to appoint as one of the county superintendents of public instruction a trained librarian, having as his charge the entire supervision and administration of library interests.

Third, all responsibility for the care of these libraries rests with teachers. The teachers should never have such responsibility. It is entirely beyond and outside of their proper work. I feel sure that this problem of how to care for school deposits of library books, a problem which is an issue North as it is South, is not so difficult of solution as library workers would have us believe. Disabuse yourselves of the notion that it is the teachers' work, and a way out of the difficulty will be found.

Fourth, not only is there a growing dissatisfaction with the library act as administered, but there is actually active opposition to it--on the part of some teachers, and on the part of certain public-spirited citizens. So much so is this a fact that a counter movement is already in progress. This consists in the establishment of rural libraries by private gift, by the citizens at large, and by certain societies. Tryon has such a library, a delightful building with two rooms and an ample supply of standard books; Lenoir has one; Boone has one. Yet these are small towns, two of them not exceeding 300 inhabitants each. An interesting feature of one of these libraries is that it serves largely as a social center for community life. Afternoon tea is served in it; musicals held; club papers read; even the Woman's Exchange meets and exhibits once a week. I had no means of discovering how general this movement was, nor yet of determining the ratio of emphasis laid on the social side of the work. But I want you to note one point--the movement starts with the adult and with standard works, and only by means of the adult, or through the parent, is the child reached. It is the exact ant.i.thesis of the state movement.