“A good idea, too,” admitted Peg, “because some of the fellows who work in the mills would want to join us, you see, and they couldn’t afford to stand for the admittance fee.”
“Uncle Henry Capes has let it be known that he stands ready to assist any worthy boy he thinks is in dead earnest, and who can’t afford the price,” announced Leslie.
“Bully for your uncle, Leslie; he’s all right!” cried Peg, enthusiastically.
“Here’s another thing, fellows, I’m meaning to bring up the first chance I get after the Boys’ Department is well started,” said Phil. “You know all of us have been a whole lot annoyed by Mr. Loft, the librarian, who believes all boys’ books should be thrown out of our Public Library, and only volumes along educational lines kept there.”
“That’s right,” broke in Dan, eagerly. “I never call for a book that I’ve wanted to read but that he tried to show me the folly of indulging in such silly nonsense as he calls it. Guess the high-brow Mr. Loft never was a boy himself. He must have been fed on Greek grammar and ancient history when he was six years old. He makes me tired, that’s what. But go on and tell us what you’ve been thinking up, Phil.”
“All right, I will, fellows,” replied the one spoken to. “In the beginning I want to say I’ve already talked the matter over with Mr. Holwell, Harry Bartlett, and Leslie’s Uncle Henry, and all of them took to the idea first rate.”
“Go on, and let’s hear!” called out several of the more impatient lads as they clustered around the speaker.
“Listen then,” said Phil, impressively. “After we get the Junior Club well started the idea is to have a library of our own, containing only such books as Mr. Holwell will have passed upon as being the right sort for boys to read. These can be filled with pleasing adventure such as all boys want, and at the same time be of a healthy, uplifting nature, and all our own.”
“Fine!” exclaimed Dan Fenwick, who was a great reader of stories of all sorts.
“We could buy the books ourselves with money we earned or had given to us,” declared Clint Babbett. “I know for one thing my mother will take to the scheme right away, because she hates to have me fetch home some of the greasy looking books from the public library. You see, she says you never can tell where they’ve been the week before; mebbe in a house where they have diphtheria or some sort of catching disease. Germs she hates the worst kind. Yes, she’ll be only too glad to help out.”