They passed through the basement, coming up at the other end of the building, and found themselves in the young men’s wing. Here, besides the reading-rooms and class-room, was another fitted with two or three workbenches.
“I propose to give them a chance to take an industrial education,” said Salome, “if they should want it.”
“I declare!” ejaculated Mrs. Soule. “To give skilled mechanics a chance to take lessons at the work-bench! You are out of your mind, child.”
“I didn’t plan it for skilled mechanics, auntie,” said Salome gently, “although they may come if they want to. But you know, or ought to, that the majority of our men can only perform one kind of work. They may be nearly perfect in their special branch, but are almost helpless when it comes to handling the hammer and saw and chisel. If they learn the proper use of these things, it will not only increase their knowledge in that direction, it will broaden them in other ways.”
“I don’t see how,” persisted her aunt.
“Besides,” put in John Villard, “if it does no other good, if the experiment keeps a few of our fellows off the street at night and develops a new taste, it will be worth while.”
“Well, perhaps you are right,” said Mrs. Soule, “but no such philosophy or philanthropy was taught in my day.”
“‘The world do move,’ auntie,” laughed Salome. “Now, shall we go upstairs?”
A broad flight of steps from the hallway at the end of the wing led up to the second floor, which was just like the one on the girls’ wing. Upstairs, the broad corridor ran through the middle of the wing, with bedrooms opening from either side. In the main body of the building, under the dome, was a large hall, fitted up with movable seats, and having a raised platform at the front.
“This is the pride of my heart,” Salome announced, as she ushered her friends into it. “If any one dares to criticise it, woe be unto him! Mr. Burnham, what fault can you find with this?”