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