By Clara Whitehill Hunt, Newark (N. J.) Free Public Library.
In writing this paper on the opening of a children's room, I am presupposing the following conditions: That in a library whose work with the children has been confined to the general delivery desk, and the divided attention of clerks whose time an adult public would monopolize, there is to be set aside a commodious apartment to be known as the Children's Room; that, considering this work of enough importance to demand such a department, the trustees are prepared to support it by a reasonable outlay for new books, necessary and convenient furnishings, and especially by placing in its charge one who, by natural fitness and special training they believe to be so thoroughly capable of supervising the work, that she is to be given a free hand in deciding both how the room is to be made ready for opening, and how managed after it is opened. This being the case, I imagine the children's librarian, with opening day a few weeks or months ahead, planning her campaign with such wise foresight and attention to the smallest detail that, in the rush of the first weeks, there may be the least possible wear and tear on nerves and temper from petty inconveniences which assume gigantic proportions when one is hurried and tired, and the smallest amount of undoing and beginning over again as time goes on.
It is difficult to be clear in speaking of furnishings without something more than verbal description for illustrating mistakes and excellences, but so much power can be lost by not having the parts of the machine properly fitted and well oiled that how to furnish the children's room becomes one of the most important topics under this subject.
To begin with, the children's librarian must cultivate, if she does not already possess, the architect's faculty of seeing a completed structure in a flat piece of paper marked off by lines labelled 20 ft., 50 ft., etc. If 20 ft. does not mean anything to her she would do well to take a tape measure to an empty lot and measure off the exact dimensions of her room to be, until she can see its floor space clearly. She should live in her room before its existence, locating every door and window, the height of the windows from the floor, every corner and cupboard, the relation of her room to the other departments of the library. In proceeding to furnish the room she will learn what to adopt and what to avoid by visiting other children's rooms and asking if the tables and chairs are the correct height, if the exit is satisfactorily guarded, what working space is necessary for a certain circulation, whether the electric light fixtures are easily broken, and many other things. If she cannot make such visits, her knowledge of children and a study of conditions in her own library will answer.
Limited to a small space the children's room is nevertheless a circulating department, a reading room, a reference room, perhaps a repair room, and a cataloging department all in one; and if the children's librarian has not had actual work in each of these departments of her library, she should serve an apprenticeship at the receiving and charging desks, the registration desk, the slip rack, not only for the sake of knowing the routine of each department, but for studying improvements in planning her furnishings. The registration clerk will tell her that she has not enough elbow room, that the application drawers are too narrow or too heavy; the attendants at the charging desk find every present arrangement so satisfactory that they advise exact reproduction. Armed with pad and tape measure the children's librarian notes all these points.
The problem how with a minimum of help to "run" all departments, to see all parts of the room, to keep your eye on the entrance so as to nip in the bud any tendency to boisterousness as the children come in, and to watch the exit so that no book goes out uncharged, how to keep all unfinished work out of the children's reach but to give them perfectly free access to the books, in short, how to arrange your working space so that one person on a moderately busy day can attend to all these things, may be answered, I think, in this way. All wall space will sooner or later be needed for books. Taking an oblong floor space (dimensions proportionate to size of room and circulation) and surrounding this by a counter 30 inches high and two feet wide, is a simple way of accomplishing these things. The counter opposite the entrance is the receiving and charging desk; at another place it is the registration desk; books after "slipping" are piled in another part ready for return to shelves; books waiting to be marked occupy a fourth section; the catalog case, notices to children, call-slip holders, etc., stand on the counter. The space under the counter is available for supply cupboards and drawers. The height of the counter is such that a grown person sitting in an ordinary chair works comfortably behind it, but it is so low that no small child feels frowningly walled out in standing on the other side. Thus all the work of the room is concentrated and supervision is easy. A few details are worth noticing. First, don't let the carpenter give you drawers instead of cupboards. Drawers are wasteful of room for packing supplies, and of time in hunting for them. Next, have the cupboard doors slide, not swing, open, for economy of your working floor space. Underneath registration and charging desks leave space empty for your feet. Just under counter near the registration desk have a row of drawers, sliding easily but fastened so they cannot fall out, made of the exact size to hold your application blanks and cards, with guide cards. A work table within the counter will be necessary.
In addition to this working space, every large children's room should have a locked closet, or better still, a work room opening from it. In busy times things will accumulate which must be kept out of reach, and it would not be sensible to take valuable space out of the children's room to hold such accumulations until you have time to attend to them.
The height of the children's chairs and tables seems to have reached a standard in children's rooms—tables 22 and 28 inches high, with chairs 14 and 16 inches to go with them. I think it best to have very few tables of the smaller size, for tall boys take the strangest delight in crouching over them, snarling their long legs around the short table legs and trying, apparently, to get a permanent twist to their shoulders. Small children do not stay long, and it is less harmful, if necessary, for them to sit in a chair a little too high than to compel large children to spend a holiday afternoon with bodies contorted to fit a small chair and table.
By all means have the electric light fixed in the center of the table so that each child gets an equal share of light, and have the connections so made that jarring the table and the movements of restless feet will not put the fixtures out of order. Be very careful not to have the shade so high that the glare of the lamp instead of the restful green shade is opposite the child's eyes.
When you see a chair that you like, find out before purchasing whether it is very easily tipped over. You will know why, if you are not wise, on some rainy day, when the room is full of readers and the reports of chairs suddenly knocked over sound like a fusillade of cannon balls.