The PRESIDENT: I have had this beautiful gavel but a very little while, but it nevertheless gives me great pleasure to transfer it. Do you remember that Miss Kelso said that we should be able to produce evidence in the way of results for the value of our work? I am going to make a very distinguished, a very large claim: I think you owe the presence of the president-elect not here only but in the profession to the interest which was originally aroused in his mind in the Milwaukee public library.
Mr. Legler, I have great pleasure in presenting the gavel for the meeting of 1913 to you as president-elect and in asking you to take charge for the remainder of this meeting.
The PRESIDENT-ELECT: Madam President, Members of the American Library Association,—For the personal good-will which you have expressed, I give to you my thanks. In so far as your action attests confidence, it must be received as a call to service, and—if I may be so presumptuous as to represent in what I say those who have been grouped by you for the ensuing year into one official family—in that spirit we receive this gavel, not as a symbol of authority but of service. Without venturing upon the uncharted sea of prophecy, we shall endeavor to interpret in terms of action those mental images which have been crystallized for us by the strong, virile papers, fortified by the abounding interest and the contagious enthusiasm of all participants in this conference. The modern library movement, recent as has been its inception, has progressed through two strongly marked stages, and is entering upon a third. The first era was that of pioneering, the sowing of seed. The second may perhaps be termed the era of experimentation, out of which grew a few mistakes and some splendid results. But we have entered upon a third era, the period of constructive work, of careful patient planning, of building enduringly. If a year hence, when we yield into other hands the high commission which you have entrusted to us, we shall be able to say that some advancement has been made, we shall be proud and happy; and we hope that your work, which, of course, must be our work, will yield some realization of our high hopes and aims and aspirations.
What is the pleasure of this conference?
I am advised that Mr. Burpee has another pleasure in store for us, and we shall be glad to hear from him.
Mr. BURPEE: Mr. President and friends of the American Library Association: On behalf of the local committee I have asked our friend Mrs. Herbert Ault, of Ottawa, to try to express to you our feelings in bidding you farewell. Mrs. Ault will sing the old Scotch song, that you all know so well, "Will ye no come back again."
After the singing of this fine old song, Mrs. Ault led the audience in the singing of "Auld Lang Syne," whereupon the president-elect declared the Thirty-fourth Annual Conference of the American Library Association adjourned.
THE SOCIAL SIDE OF THE CONFERENCE
Throughout the eight days which we officially spent within the confines of the Dominion, cordial appreciation of our presence was constantly in evidence. Twelve years had passed since a gathering of the association had been held among our hospitable co-laborers north of the international boundary; I think we all were convinced that in so long delaying our second visit, we of "the states" had been the losers. No doubt there will hereafter be a greater frequency of Canadian meetings.
The western delegation was the first to experience the sincere and unaffected warmth of Canada's greeting. Ontario's capital and metropolis was reached by the Chicago special at noon of Tuesday, June 25. The Toronto committee of arrangements was composed not only of librarians, but representatives of the provincial government, prominent educators, and professional and business men and women. Their program of entertainment had included a morning automobile ride through the many parks and charming residence quarters of the city; but the ride was abandoned, for the hour at which the guests were tardily delivered to them by the railway managers spelled luncheon, a British institution that brooks no delay.