ies that are operated in each of
these ways, but neither one relationship nor the other, nor any
modification of either, is the ideal one between a librarian and his
board. The board is supreme, of course, but it is a body of non-experts
who have employed an expert to bring about certain results. They ought to
know what they want, and what they have a right to expect, and if their
expert does not give them this, the relation between him and them should
terminate; but if they are men of sense they will not attempt to dictate
methods or supervise details. They are the delegated representatives of
the great public, which owns the library and operates it for a definite
purpose. It is this function of the board as the representative of the
public that should be emphasized here. Has the public a definite idea of
what it wants from the public library, and of what is reasonable for it to
ask? If so, is it satisfied that it is represented by a board that is of
the same mind? The citizens may be assured that the composition of the
library board rests ultimately upon its will. If the board is elective,
this is obvious; if appointive, the appointing officer or body would
hardly dare to go counter to the expressed desire of the citizens.

What has been said above may be put into a very few words. The public
library is public property, owned and controlled by the citizens. Every
citizen, therefore, should be interested in setting standards for it and
playing his part toward making it conform to them--in seeing that its
governing body represents him in also recognizing those standards and
trying to maintain them--in laboring for such a due apportionment of the
public funds as shall not make an attempt to live up to such standards a
mere farce.

So much for the things that the citizen can and should do in his capacity
of library boss. His possibilities as a beneficiary are still more
interesting and valuable.

Perhaps you remember the story of the man who attempted to board the
warship and, on being asked his business, replied, "I'm one of the
owners." One version of the tale then goes on to relate how the sailor
thus addressed picked up a splinter from the deck, and, handing it to the
visitor, remarked: "Well, I guess that's about your share. Take it and get
out!"

I have always sympathized with the sailor rather than with his visitor.
Most of us librarians have had experiences with these bumptious "owners"
of public property. The