Later, when she recalled the afternoon, Barbara was surprised to remember how little of her original paper she had used. The triviality of the program had supplied her with text enough, and the “Psychology of the Child” was partially diverted into a sermon upon the aimlessness of a purely literary club. In her earnestness she was carried beyond caution.
“I call you to new things,” rang out her resolute voice, in conclusion. “Literary effort in club life is outworn. You can read your Homer alone, but it takes concentrated, combined interest to accomplish the vital things of living. You have read too long. It is philanthropy we need in Auburn,—civic improvement, educational effort that shall be for the masses rather than our selfish selves. I call you to this. I ask you to work with me for the good of our town and our people.”
The effect of Barbara’s personal magnetism was never more strongly evidenced than by the genuine applause that greeted her effort. The Literary Association might disapprove her theories and her violet gown, but her sincerity was inspiring. The Auburn mothers caught the contagion in her voice, and were interested, if not convinced.
There was a momentary pause as the applause subsided. Then Barbara said earnestly: “I’m afraid I may have been too abstract in my statements. But I have very definite ideas of what might be done in Auburn that would be most beneficial to our children and ourselves. The crêche that I spoke of is one of them. If any of you care to ask any questions, I shall be glad to answer them. If I can,” she added more modestly.
Mrs. Enderby, who had been aroused from her nap just in time to hear Barbara’s ringing close, rose to the occasion. To her a question was a question. “Miss Barbara,” she inquired, an interested expression on her rested face, “do you believe in children going barefoot this hot weather?”
Barbara looked surprised. “W-why, n-no,” she said.
“Oh,” said Mrs. Enderby, conversationally, “I was wondering.”
There was another pause. Then Mrs. Bellows rose in her place. “Did I understand you to say Kreysh?”
“Yes,” said Barbara. “A day-nursery would be the first form of philanthropy I should advise for Auburn.”
“What need, if I may ask,” inquired Mrs. Bellows, impressively, “has Auburn for a day-nursery?”