EDITORIAL

Commencement, above all other times in the college year, strikes a deep chord of feeling both in graduate and undergraduate alike. Mountain Day with its freedom and gaiety, Washington's Birthday with its rivalry, the Basket-ball Game with its class spirit-these and all the other events of the year dwindle into insignificance before those days in June; days when the campus outdoes itself in a splendor of sun and shade, evenings cool, fragrant and almost mystic with the charm of lights and music. The other days that we celebrate presuppose the college. Their observation is a college problem, their interest only a part of the college interest. But Commencement, the visible consummation of a four years' service, not merely presupposes the college life, but symbolizes it. Petty rivalry is lost in real loyalty, class spirit in college spirit, and behind it all stands the reality of life, half alluring, half grim.

Commencement to the alumna brings an appreciation of progress, a fresh contact with the intellectual and social life of the college. And her presence means an inspiration to the life of the college at large. Commencement, bringing as it does so much of joy and sorrow and ambition, opens the heart of the college as no other time can do, and it is then that the alumna comes closer than ever before. Her experience, with the old love and loyalty unimpaired, means much to the Alma Mater who is once more sending out her children to seek their fortunes.

The Commencement days bring little of symbolism to the senior. There is no time for sentimental dreaming; all is unselfish, active and practical. As the greatest men are busiest in their hour of triumph, so Commencement brings a million and one almost prosaic, yet none the less necessary, details to fill the days perhaps fuller than they ought to be. There is the excitement of the play, with the arrangement of the many little items that will contribute to its success. There are relatives

to be entertained and provided with front seats. There is packing to be done, and there are last good-byes to be said. So it is only after all is over that the real glory of attainment comes, and it comes only to find its companion sadness waiting,-the sadness of last times.

To the undergraduate especially is Commencement the time of hopes and dreams. There is sadness too in the parting of friendships that have grown strong and lasting on the soil of a democratic life, but the ideal reigns supreme over all. It is the power of this ideal, with the opportunity allowing it, that helps the undergraduate through many weary hours. Without the inspiration that Commencement brings she would find it hard to believe that Greek verbs and Latin syntax will give a foundation for living. In everyday routine it is almost impossible to see the true proportion, and the right perspective. It is just this perspective that Commencement gives. It interprets the four years' apprenticeship in the finest light. It softens the shadows and heightens the color. It gives an ideal picture perhaps, but it is an ideality that is almost truer than truth.

In the midst of the ideal glow that the Commencement days shed around the college life, there is one force that stands out, needing no idealistic coloring, ideal in her own unconscious power-the Senior. Her Commencement is the beginning of a life that is symbolized by no academic robes, but by the gathering of flowers and the planting of ivy; her hand the hand that will gather and plant. To the alumna she is a hope, to herself a just estimate, and to the undergraduate always and only "the grand old Senior".

EDITOR'S TABLE

The recently-published volume of "Bryn Mawr Stories" shows what is, as far as I know, a new departure in this line of publication. Its singularity consists in the fact that the sketches and tales contained in its pages are by different authors, two among whom are undergraduates, and the whole is edited by two members of the class of 1900. By this method the book loses in uniformity of literary excellence, but as a trustworthy expression of the college from which it comes it gains immeasurably through the presentation and comparison of these differing points of view, some of which have been determined by considerable post-collegiate experience.

The subject most strongly emphasized in this collection of stories is the strife into which the college girl must enter against the prejudice of the outside world, that is, the world of society. Indeed by the varying treatments of this prejudice in its different aspects, one is led to suspect that the "Bryn Mawrtyr", as she is called,-with somewhat unpleasant suggestion, so it seems to us, must suffer much more from the unfriendly attitude of the unenlightened than do her sister collegians of other institutions. A feeling of stern responsibility seems to weigh her down, and she is continually exerting all her powers in order to prove that she has a reason for existing. One of the strongest arguments in this proof is the presence of much charm and lightheartedness, freedom and joy in the college life, yet we find in "Bryn Mawr Stories" hardly any dealing with the college in these aspects. The addition of a few slight sketches of the student life as it is at present would complete the book and satisfy our legitimate curiosity.

Such suggestions of the college surroundings and interests as are scattered through the stories give a very pleasing impression of Bryn Mawr, and they are very grateful to that large proportion of their readers who will be eager for knowledge on which to base comparisons, and who will thrill in sympathy at hints of things familiar and dear to every college girl's heart.

How far the literary signs of the times may be found in undergraduate productions is an open question, yet even a slight acquaintance with college magazines brings to light marked tendencies in certain directions, which arouse some interest, if it be only that of classification, and which may be, after all, of considerable importance. If it is not more than probable that the literary leaders of the future are now receiving their initial training in the pages of undergraduate publications, it is certain that many students who there display their interest in the literary art will not lay down their pen in after years, for the habit of scribbling, so they say, is the most hopeless of cure. The prevailing literary matter and manner of the college periodical may, then, be considered of some significance, partly because of, and partly in spite of, the fact that the undergraduate literary aspirant is rarely an originator.

There are three special forms into which the literary matter of our exchanges seems naturally to fall; the "heavy" article, dealing usually with literary criticism, the short story, and verse. The light essay, personal in tone, and original in treatment, which has been so well developed elsewhere, is never found here, though we know of no reason why it should not be attempted and with success. Nor is there often any serious endeavor to treat a theme dramatically, though our own magazine has contained several efforts in dramatic poetry during recent years.

The critical articles of college magazines are almost always good, though suggestive of the class room. The fiction is more rarely worth reading, and leads us, joining with the estimate of the short stories published in more ambitious pages, to suspect the decadence of the type. Most creditable to the student literary world are its verse-makers. Though much of the verse is, to be sure, of not very great value, one finds sometimes a vigorous or exquisitely delicate conception given so careful an artistic treatment that the average of merit in this line of literary production is higher than the critic would naturally expect. But perhaps it is not unreasonable to expect such a result when we remember the inspiring courses in English poetry and in that of other lands, which every college offers to its students of literature, and when we consider that in theory, at least, the short, unelaborated lyric is spontaneous youth's most natural form of literary expression.

ALUMNE DEPARTMENT

Having been asked for an account of some phase of library work which would be of interest to the readers of the Monthly, I at once thought of the most recently developed movement, that of

Library Work with Children active work with the children. Children were formerly debarred entirely from the use of the public library in some places, and even after the libraries were open to them, they were looked upon as more or less of a nuisance. No special efforts were made to induce them to read and little attention was paid by the library to the kind of books they did read; a child was equally welcome to the "Elsie books" or "Tales from Shakespeare". As a rule no room was set aside for their special use and they felt that the library belonged to the older people. Within recent years all this has been changed. The library now belongs as much to the children as to anyone; every effort is made to direct their reading and they have their own attractive rooms where they may fully enjoy themselves and feel that they are in no one's way. So far, so good, but this does not reach all classes of children as, especially in a large city, there are still many who can not afford to come to the library and others who do not care to come, having no idea of what reading is. How to reach these children is the all-absorbing question to the actively progressive library, and many advances have been made in its solution. This is merely a sketch of the methods adopted for answering this question by a library in a large and rapidly growing manufacturing city; it may serve to give an idea of the magnitude and interest of the work, and its future possibilities. It is of course, developed differently in different cities, each suiting its methods to its field of work, but the fundamental idea is and always will be the same.

Pittsburgh, with its foundries, glass-works and coal mines, has drawn to itself a most varied population. It affords one of the best opportunities for putting into practical operation a comprehensive system of work with the children, and has the means of doing so in the Carnegie Library with its five branches. These, being widely scattered over the city, come into close touch with children of all classes; some reach the down-town settlements of Italians and Jews, others come into contact with the foundry workers, while others reach the purely residence districts.

How to make the libraries attractive to all these children was the question which first had to be answered. In each building is a large, cheerful room devoted exclusively to the children. Around the wall are low open shelves supplied with the best juvenile books and magazines, while above these, in many cases, is a frieze of pictures illustrating the books below. Special bul