What inducement has he to spend his evenings at home? Where, then, will he go? Into the street, to drift into the place offering the most attraction for the least money; alas! too often at the bitter cost of misery to himself and sorrow for his friends hereafter.
This, then is our work, to make our reading-rooms so attractive that they will be drawn hither. Have them well lighted, well heated and ventilated, supplied with the daily papers of our own and other cities, also the current magazines. We cannot afford to be niggardly in this work. Let us supply our tables with illustrated mechanical and art works, also the best literature of the day. The more freedom that we can give, the better the results. The young man will pass in and out at his pleasure, spending an hour or two with whatever pleases him best, till the reading-room largely takes the place of home, and reading becomes a part of his daily existence, the beneficent effect of which he will carry through life.
There are lying on our tables week after week by actual count 600 papers, magazines, and books, from “Baby Days” to “The Cathedrals of the World,” free to the public. This has ceased to be an experiment, for during the ten years our losses have not amounted to $10; and there are days when nearly if not quite 500 persons sit at our tables.
The greater possibilities, however, are with our children, the future parents and guardians of our commonwealth. What are we doing for them as public libraries, as educators? Working hand in hand with the schools faithfully and well, as shown by the valuable and interesting reports published in the Library journal, without which we would know as little of the library work outside our own as we would know of the outside world without our newspaper. Long may it live!
Does our responsibility rest here? What of the multitude of waifs worse than homeless, without restraining or guiding influence, to be thrown into the community to swell the numbers of paupers and criminals, many of whom, yes, the majority of whom, have the same gentle instincts and latent ability as our own little ones so tenderly nurtured.
We may say this is the work of charitable institutions and humane societies; not so; this is essentially our work. We call ourselves educators, and have the honor to be recognized as such; the work of a public library is to teach, to elevate, to ennoble, there is no limit to its possible influence.
Must we wait, then, until our children (for they are all ours as a community) are fourteen years of age or upwards before we begin to teach them the first principles of right living, of mental growth, of love to their neighbor?
We maintain that we cannot begin too early, and that this is a part of library work from which we get the greatest percentage of reward. Again I ask, What are we doing for these children, the future pride or dishonor of our communities?