This was in charge of a special committee of the staff, and its results were beyond expectation.  In one window we had a shelfful of current books, open to attractive pictures, with a sign reminding wayfarers that they might be taken out by cardholders and that cards were free.  In another we had standard works, without pictures, but open at attractive pages.  In another we had children’s books; in another, open reference or art books in a dust-proof case—­and so on.  Each of these windows was seldom without its contingent of gazers, and the direct effect on library circulation was noticed by all.  At the end of the year we moved into our great million-and-a-half-dollar building; and beautiful as it is—­satisfactory as are its arrangements—­we have had—­alas—­to give up our show windows.  We can, it is true, have show cases in the great entrance hall, but we want to attract outsiders, not insiders.  Some of our enthusiastic staff want to build permanent show cases on the sidewalk.  What we may possibly do is to rent real show windows opposite.  What we do not desire, is to abandon our publicity plan altogether.  But when, oh when, shall we have libraries (branches at any rate, if our main buildings must be monumental) that will throw themselves open to the public eye, luring in the wayfarer to the joys of reading, as the commercial window does to the delights of gumdrops or neckties?

One of the greatest steps ever taken toward the advertisement of ideas was the adoption, on a large scale, of the open shelf.  This throws the books of a library, or many of them, open to public inspection and handling; it encourages “browsing”—­the somewhat aimless rambling about and dipping here and there into a volume.

If we are to present ideas to our would-be readers in great variety, hoping that among them there may be toothsome bait, surely there could be no better way than this.  The only trouble is that it appeals only to those who are already sufficiently interested in stored ideas to enter the library.

We must remember, however, that by our method of sending out books for home use we are making a great open-shelf of the whole city.  While the number of volumes in any one place may be small, the books are constantly changing so that the non-reader has a good chance of seeing in his friend’s house something that may attract him.  That this may affect the use of the library it is essential that he who sees a library book on the table or in the hands of a fellow passenger on a car must be able to recognize its source at once, so that, if attracted, he may be led thither by the suggestion.  Nothing is better for this purpose than the library seal, placed on the book where all may see it; and that all may recognize it, it should also be used wherever possible, in connection with the library—­on letter heads, posters, lists, pockets and cards, so that the public association between its display and the work of the library shall become strong.