Now the Brown family has been active in letters, from Charles Brockden down to Alice, but no one seems to know of Susanna H. The librarian contrived to put off the matter until she could make some investigations of her own, but, all the resources of the central reference room proving unequal to the task, she timidly asked the clubwoman, at her next visit, to solve the problem.
“Oh, we don’t know who Susanna H. Brown was; that is why we came to you for information!”
“But where did you find the name?”
“Well, I don’t know exactly; but one of our members, in a conversation with some one who knows a lot about literature—I forget just who it was—was told that Susanna H. Brown had rendered noteworthy services to American literature. We’ve got to find out, for her name is already printed on the programme!”
I don’t know what was said of Miss, or Mrs. Brown at the meeting; but my opinion is that this particular item on the programme had to be omitted.
Another lady entered a library abruptly and said “I want your books on China.”
“Do you mean the country of that name? or are you looking up porcelain?”
First perplexity and then dismay spread over the lady’s face. “Why, I don’t know,” she faltered. “The program just said China!”
A university professor was once asked by one of these program committees for a list of references on German folklore—a subject to which it had decided that its club should devote the current season. The list, as furnished, proved rather stiff, and the astonished professor received forthwith the following epistle (quoted from memory):
“Dear Professor—