The Public Library Service Iflaunesco Guidelines For Development Reprint 2013 Philip Gill Editor Section Of Public Libraries Editor

The Public Library Service Iflaunesco Guidelines
For Development Reprint 2013 Philip Gill Editor
Section Of Public Libraries Editor download
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-public-library-service-
iflaunesco-guidelines-for-development-reprint-2013-philip-gill-
editor-section-of-public-libraries-editor-50993760
Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.
Readers Advisory Service In The Public Library 3 Ed Joyce G Saricks
https://ebookbell.com/product/readers-advisory-service-in-the-public-
library-3-ed-joyce-g-saricks-22506972
The Dallas Public Library Celebrating A Century Of Service 19012001
Michael V Hazel
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-dallas-public-library-celebrating-a-
century-of-service-19012001-michael-v-hazel-1624742
Open Access And Its Practical Impact On The Work Of Academic
Librarians Collection Development Public Services And The Library And
Information Science Literature 1st Edition Laura Bowering Mullen Auth
https://ebookbell.com/product/open-access-and-its-practical-impact-on-
the-work-of-academic-librarians-collection-development-public-
services-and-the-library-and-information-science-literature-1st-
edition-laura-bowering-mullen-auth-4675678
The Public Library In The United States Robert D Leigh
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-public-library-in-the-united-states-
robert-d-leigh-51903788

The Public Library In American Life Ernestine Rose
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-public-library-in-american-life-
ernestine-rose-51908650
The Public Library In The Political Process Oliver Garceau
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-public-library-in-the-political-
process-oliver-garceau-51909418
The Public Library A Photographic Essay Robert Dawson Bibliothque
Municipale Mlhausen
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-public-library-a-photographic-essay-
robert-dawson-bibliothque-municipale-mlhausen-42522250
Before The Public Library Reading Community And Identity In The
Atlantic World 16501850 Hardcover Kyle B Roberts Mark Towsey
https://ebookbell.com/product/before-the-public-library-reading-
community-and-identity-in-the-atlantic-world-16501850-hardcover-kyle-
b-roberts-mark-towsey-10429716
The Customerfocused Library Reinventing The Public Library From The
Outsidein 1st Edition Joseph R Matthews
https://ebookbell.com/product/the-customerfocused-library-reinventing-
the-public-library-from-the-outsidein-1st-edition-joseph-r-
matthews-1877836

International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions
Fédération Internationale des Associations de Bibliothécaires et des Bibliothèques
Internationaler Verband der bibliothekarischen Vereine und Institutionen
MejKAyHapoAHa« <I>€flepaumi ΕΗ6.ΠΗΟΤ6ΗΗΙ>ΙΧ AccounauHB Η yipoKflCHHtt
Federación Internacional de Asociaciones de Bibliotecarios y Bibliotecas

IFLA Publications 97
The Public Library Service
IFLA/UNESCO Guidelines
for Development
Prepared by a working group chaired by Philip Gill
on behalf of the Section of Public Libraries
K G · Saur München 2001

IFLA Publications
edited by Carol Henry
Recommended catalogue entry:
The Public library service: IFLA/UNESCO guidelines for development /
[International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions],
Ed. for the Section of Public Libraries by Philip Gill et. al. -
München : Saur, 2001, XVI, 116 p. 21 cm
(IFLA publications ; 97)
ISBN 3-598-21827-3
Die Deutsche Bibliothek - CIP-Einheitsaufnahme
The public library service : IFLA/UNESCO guidelines for development /
[International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions].
Prepared by a working group chaired by Philip Gill on behalf of the Section of Public Libraries. -
München : Saur, 2001
(IFLA publications ; 97)
ISBN 3-598-21827-3
Θ
Printed on acid-free paper
The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National
Standard for Information Sciences - Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials,
ANSI Z39.48.1984.
© 2001 by International Federation of Library Associations
and Institutions, The Hague, The Netherlands
Alle Rechte vorbehalten / All Rights Strictly Reserved
K. G. Saur Verlag GmbH München 2001
Printed in the Federal Republic of Germany
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system of any nature, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Printed / Bound by Strauss Offsetdruck, Mörlenbach
ISBN 3-598-21827-3
ISSN 0344-6891 (IFLA Publications)

Contents
Preface ¡x
Introduction xi
1 The role and purpose of the public library 1
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Defining the public library 1
1.3 The purposes of the public library 2
1.4 An agency for change 7
1.5 Freedom of information 8
1.6 Access for all 8
1.7 Local needs 9
1.8 Local culture 9
1.9 The cultural roots of the public library 10
1.10 Libraries without walls 10
1.11 Library buildings 11
1.12 Resources 11
2 The legal and financial framework 13
2.1 Introduction 13
2.2 The public library and government 13
2.3 Public library legislation 15
2.4 Funding 17
2.5 The governance of the public library 20

vi THE PUBLIC LIBRARY SERVICE: I F L A / U N E S C O GUIDELINES FOR DEVELOPMENT
2.6 The administration of the public library 21
2.7 Publicity and promotion 21
3 Meeting the needs of the users 23
3.1 Introduction 23
3.2 Identifying potential users 24
3.3 Analysing needs within the community 25
3.4 Services to users 25
3.5 Customer care 35
3.6 User education 37
3.7 Co-operation and resource sharing 38
3.8 Electronic networks 40
3.9 Access to services 42
3.10 Library buildings 42
4 Collection development 49
4.1 Introduction 49
4.2 Collection management policy 50
4.3 Range of resources 52
4.4 Collection development 53
4.5 Collection maintenance principles 54
4.6 Standards for book collections 56
4.7 Standards for electronic information facilities 56
4.8 Collection development programme for new libraries 57
4.9 Acquisition and discard rates 59
5 Human resources 61
5.1 Introduction 61
5.2 The skills of library staff 61
5.3 Staff categories 62
5.4 Ethical standards 65
5.5 The duties of library staff 65
5.6 Staffing levels 65
5.7 Education of librarians 66

CONTENTS VII
5.8 Training 66
5.9 Career development 68
5.10 Working conditions 68
5.11 Volunteers 69
6 The management and marketing of public libraries 71
6.1 Introduction 71
6.2 Management skills 71
6.3 Building and maintaining networks 74
6.4 Financial management 75
6.5 Management of library resources 75
6.6 Staff management 76
6.7 Planning and development of library systems 76
6.8 The management of change 77
6.9 Delegation 77
6.10 Management tools 78
6.11 Marketing and promotion 82
Appendices 87
1 The IFLA/UNESCO Public Library Manifesto 87
2 The Finnish Library Act 1998 91
3 Library Service Customer Charter- Buckinghamshire County
Library 97
4 Library Building Standards - Ontario, Canada and Barcelona,
Spain 101
Resource list 105
Index 113

Preface
This publication replaces Guidelinesfor public libraries published in 1986. It
has been drafted by a working group made up of members of the Committee
of the IFLA Section of Public Libraries. The members of the working
group were:
Philip Gill (United Kingdom), Chair
Barbara Clubb (Canada)
Ilona Glashoff (Germany)
Kerstin Hassner (Sweden)
Nerses Hayrapetian (Armenia)
Robert Pestell (Australia).
Before drafting began, the contents of the proposed publication were dis-
cussed at a two-day seminar at Noordwijk, Netherlands held in August
1998. We are grateful to UNESCO for their support for this event. Work-
ing drafts have been presented and debated at the IFLA Conferences in Ams-
terdam (1998), Bangkok (1999) and Jerusalem (2000). It has also been
considered in detail by the IFLA Committee of the Section of Public
Libraries, the Coordinating Board of IFLA Division 3 Libraries Serving the
General Public and representatives of IFLA's Professional Board.
The contributions at the Noordwijk seminar, at the IFLA Conferences and
by those to whom the drafts have been sent for consultation, have been invalu-
able. We are grateful to all those who have commented on the work as it has
progressed and to those who have provided practical examples to illustrate
the text. We are also grateful to the Assistant Director (Lifelong Learning),
Buckinghamshire County Council, England for permission to reproduce their
Library Service Customer Charter.

χ T H E PUBLIC LIBRARY SERVICE: I F L A / U N E S C O GUIDELINES FOR DEVELOPMENT
The interest shown in this publication as it has been in preparation is
evidence of the demand for guidelines for public libraries that reflect the
changed information world in which they now operate. We trust that these
guidelines will be relevant to public libraries at varying stages of develop-
ment in the early years of the 21st century and can help librarians to meet
the exciting challenges they now face. It is in that belief that we offer this
publication to all those who are involved in the development of public
libraries throughout the world.

Introduction
In 1994 the third version of the IFLA/UNESCO Public Library Manifesto was
published. It rapidly became recognized as an important statement of the
fundamental principles of the public library service. It has been translated
into over twenty languages and become an influential document in public
library development (see Appendix 1) . It also became apparent that there
was a need and a demand for a more detailed statement of practical guide-
lines and standards that librarians and policy-makers could use in develop-
ing public library services. The committee of the IFLA Section of Public
Libraries decided to prepare new guidelines and appointed a group of six
of its members to carry out the drafting.
In 1973 IFLA published Standards for public libraries, reissued with slight
revisions in 1977. In 1986 this was replaced by Guidelinesfor public libraries.
Both these publications have been overtaken by the dramatic developments
in information technology that have taken place in the last few years. As their
titles suggest they represented two different approaches to providing prac-
tical guidance to librarians. The introduction to the 1973 Standards states:
Separate standards were not considered desirable, since the general objec-
tives in all countries were the same, the modifying factor being the pace
at which development could take place.
The 1973 version therefore provides a range of quantitative standards includ-
ing the size of collections, size of administrative units, opening hours,
staffing levels and building standards.
Those drafting the 1986 Guidelines took a different view:

XII THE PUBLIC LIBRARY SERVICE: I F L A / U N E S C O GUIDELINES FOR DEVELOPMENT
When needs and resources vary so widely there can be no common stan-
dards for services . . . We are offering not rules but advice, based on expe-
rience drawn from many different countries and capable of general
application . . . Recommendations as to desirable levels of provision, based
on past experience in quite different circumstances, are bound to be unre-
liable and misleading.
Statistics of public libraries in different countries were provided in an
appendix against which librarians could measure their own service.
In preparing this new edition many issues were raised and addressed but
perhaps the three key questions were:
• Should the final document include both guidelines and quantitative stan-
dards or be limited just to guidelines?
• Would it be possible to prepare a version that could be of practical use
to librarians in countries with public library services at different stages
of development and with very different levels of available resources?
• Is it possible to make recommendations on the use of information and com-
munications technology in public libraries when there are such great vari-
ations in its availability and in the resources to provide and support it?
In order to get a view on these and other issues, a seminar was held in Noord-
wijk, Netherlands in August 1998 to discuss the content of the new edition
and the form that it should take. The seminar was attended by 22 librari-
ans from 21 countries in different parts of the world and from public libraries
at different stages of development and with varying levels of resources. The
conclusions reached at the end of that stimulating event have informed the
work of the group carrying out the revision.
The Noordwijk delegates strongly supported the view that the new publi-
cation should include some practical standards and not be confined to guide-
lines and recommendations. It became apparent that, though many people were
aware of the 1973 Standards and still used them to a certain extent, the 1986
Guidelines had not made the same practical impact. Though fully aware of the
wide variety of social and economic circumstances within which public
libraries in different countries operate the drafting group decided that, if this

INTRODUCTION XIII
new edition was to have practical value, it should include some recommend-
ed standards.
The decision to include standards highlights the importance of the second
question: can a set of standards and guidelines have universal relevance? As
each draft has been produced it has been sent to the Noordwijk delegates, and
to a number of other people who have shown interest in the project, for their
reaction. Meetings have been held on the project at the IFLA conferences in
Amsterdam (1998), Bangkok (1999) and Jerusalem (2000). This consultative
process has been an invaluable element of the project and has revealed both
the strength of the public library movement world-wide and the similarities
and differences in public libraries in different countries and societies.
Despite the variations in levels of service and in funds to support and
develop them, it was decided that it would not be fruitful to attempt to pre-
pare a new edition which was aimed at one group of public libraries, for exam-
ple those in the 'developed' or the 'developing' world. Such categorization
is misleading as the level and range of services and their effectiveness is not
necessarily based on the available resources. Libraries in any country and at
any stage of development are capable of improvement and all will have both
strengths and weaknesses. It was decided, therefore, to produce a set of guide-
lines and standards that could be relevant to any public library at some point
in its development. We recognize the problem of meeting standards when
reliable population figures are not available and have suggested alternative
approaches. We recommend that the more detailed guidelines produced by
specialist sections of IFLA are also used. Where public libraries cannot meet
all the standards and recommendations immediately, it is hoped that they
will provide a target at which to aim. This publication is aimed primarily
at librarians, for them to use in fighting for improved library services.
We have also included some examples of service provision from around
the world. These are not intended to be comprehensive or necessarily the most
outstanding instances of service provision. They are intended to illustrate the
text with some snapshots of what is happening in public libraries in different
countries and to provide a glimpse of imaginative solutions to specific chal-
lenges. We realize that these are very selective and many more examples could
be used that would be equally relevant. They do demonstrate what is being
done throughout the world to match the public library service to the needs
of its users in a local context. We have also included website addresses for

XIV THE PUBLIC LIBRARY SERVICE: I F L A / U N E S C O GUIDELINES FOR DEVELOPMENT
some of the initiatives, to provide access to more detailed information
about them.
In the last few years the rapid and very exciting developments in infor-
mation technology have revolutionized the way in which information is col-
lected, displayed and accessed. The synergy between information and
communications technology is allowing access to information in ways hard-
ly imaginable when the last Guidelines were published in 1986. The speed of
change has accelerated and continues to do so. There are few sectors of activ-
ity not affected and the public library, for which the provision of information
is a primary role, is facing the challenge of radical changes in all aspects of
its organization and service delivery.
Many public libraries have responded to the challenge of the electron-
ic revolution and taken the opportunity to develop services in new and
exciting ways. There is, however, another side to this story. The United
Nations Human Development Report 1999, while stating that the Inter-
net is the fastest growing tool of communication ever, revealed that South
Asia with 23.5% of the world's population has less than 0.1% of the world's
Internet users. A quarter of the countries of the world has less than one
telephone for every hundred people. To take advantage of the oppor-
tunities information and communications technology present there is a
basic need for literacy, computer skills and a reliable telecommunications
network. The risk of a growing gap between the information rich and the
information poor has never been greater. This gap is not just an issue
between countries at different stages of development but also between
groups and individuals within countries. The United Nations report says
'Determined efforts are needed to bring developing countries - and poor
people every where - into the global conversation.'
Public libraries have an exciting opportunity to help to bring everyone
into this global conversation and to bridge what is often called 'the dig-
ital divide'. They can achieve this by providing information technology for
public access, by teaching basic computer skills and by participating in
programmes to combat illiteracy. However, to fulfil the principle of access
for all, they must also continue to maintain services that provide infor-
mation in different ways, for example, through print or the oral tradition.

Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:

brought back suggestions of antipathy and scorn. Those few minutes
spent with her had covered the world of Eve’s impressions with a
cold, grey light. She felt herself a hard young woman, quite
determined against patronage, and quite incapable of letting herself
be made a fool of by any emotions whatever.
Glancing aside she saw Canterton talking to a parson. He was
talking with his lips, but his eyes were on her. He had the hovering
and impatient air of a man held back against his inclinations, and
trying to cover with courtesy his desire to break away.
He was coming back to her, for there was something inevitable
and magnetic about those eyes of his. A little spasm of shame and
exultation glowed out from the midst of the half cynical mood that
had fallen on her. She turned and moved away, wondering what had
become of Lynette.
“I want to show you something.”
She felt herself thrill. The hardness seemed to melt at the sound
of his voice.
“Oh?”
“Let’s get away from the crowd. It is really preposterous. What
fools we all are in a crowd.”
“Too much self-consciousness.”
“Are you, too, self-conscious?”
“Sometimes.”
“Not when you are interested.”
“Perhaps not.”
They passed several of Canterton’s men parading the walks
leading to the nurseries. Temporary wire fences and gates had been
put up here and there. Canterton smiled.
“Doesn’t it strike you as almost too pointed?”
“What, that barbed wire?”
“Yes. I believe I have made myself an offence to the
neighbourhood. But the few people I care about understand.
Besides, we give to our friends.”
“I think you must have been a brave man.”
“No, an obstinate one. I did not see why the Mrs. Brocklebanks
should have pieces of my rare plants. I have even had my men

bribed once or twice. You should hear Lavender on the subject. Look
at that!”
He had brought her down to see the heath garden, and her
verdict was an awed silence. They stood side by side, looking at the
magnificent masses of colour glowing in the afternoon light.
“Oh, how exquisite!”
“It is rather like drinking when one is thirsty.”
“Yes.”
He half turned to her.
“I want to see the Latimer paintings. May I come down after
dinner, and have a chat with your mother?”
She felt something rise in her throat, a faint spasm of resistance
that lasted only for a moment.
“But—the artificial light?”
“I want to see them.”
It was not so much a surrender on her part as a tacit acceptance
of his enthusiasm.
“Yes, come.”
“Thank you.”

CHAPTER XIII
A MAN IN THE MOONLIGHT
It was no unusual thing for Canterton to spend hours in the
gardens and nurseries after dark. He was something of a star-gazer
and amateur astronomer, but it was the life of the earth by night
that drew him out with lantern, collecting-box and hand lens. Often
he went moth hunting, for the history of many a moth is also the
history of some pestilence that cankers and blights the green growth
of some tree or shrub. No one who has not gone out by night with a
lantern to search and to observe has any idea of the strange,
creeping life that wakes with the darkness. It is like the life of
another world, thousand-legged, slimy, grotesque, repulsive, and yet
full of significance to the Nature student who goes out to use his
eyes.
Canterton had some of Darwin’s thoroughness and patience. He
had spent hours watching centipedes or the spore changes of
myxomycetes on a piece of dead fir bough. He experimented with
various compounds for the extinction of slugs, and studied the ways
of wood-lice and earth worms. All very ridiculous, no doubt, in a
man whose income ran into thousands a year. Sometimes he had
been able to watch a shrew at work, or perhaps a queer snuffling
sound warned him of the nearness of a hedgehog. This was the
utilitarian side of his vigils. He was greatly interested, æsthetically
and scientifically, in the sleep of plants and flowers, and in the ways
of those particular plants whose loves are consummated at night,
shy white virgins with perfumed bodies who leave the day to their
bolder and gaudier fellows. Some moth played Eros. He studied
plants in their sleep, the change of posture some of them adopted,
the drooping of the leaves, the closing of the petals. All sorts of
things happened of which the ordinary gardener had not the
slightest knowledge. There were atmospheric changes to be
recorded, frosts, dew falls and the like. Very often Canterton would

be up before sunrise, watching which birds were stirring first, and
who was the first singer to send a twitter of song through the grey
gate of the dawn.
But as he walked through the fir woods towards Orchards Corner,
his eyes were not upon the ground or turned to the things that were
near him. Wisps of a red sunset still drifted about the west, and the
trunks of the trees were barred in black against a yellow afterglow.
Soon a full moon would be coming up. Heavy dew was distilling out
of the quiet air and drawing moist perfumes out of the thirsty
summer earth.
Blue dusk covered the heathlands beyond Orchards Corner, and
the little tree-smothered house was invisible. A light shone out from
a window as Canterton walked up the lane. Something white was
moving in the dusk, drifting to and fro across the garden like a moth
from flower to flower.
Canterton’s hand was on the gate. Never before had night fallen
for him with such a hush of listening enchantment. The scents
seemed more subtle, the freshness of the falling dew indescribably
delicious. He passed an empty chair standing on the lawn, and found
a white figure waiting.
“I wondered whether you would come.”
“I did not wonder. What a wash of dew, and what scents.”
“And the stillness. I wanted to see the moon hanging in the fir
woods.”
“The rim will just be topping the horizon.”
“You know the time by all the timepieces in Arcady.”
“I suppose I was born to see and to remember.”
They went into the little drawing-room that was Eve’s despair
when she felt depressed. This room was Mrs. Carfax’s lararium,
containing all the ugly trifles that she treasured, and some of the
ugliest furniture that ever was manufactured. John Carfax had been
something of an amateur artist, and a very crude one at that. He
had specialised in genre work, and on the walls were studies of a
butcher’s shop, a fruit stall, a fish stall, a collection of brass
instruments on a table covered with a red cloth, and a row of lean,
stucco-fronted houses, each with a euonymus hedge and an iron

gate in front of it. The carpet was a Kidderminster, red and yellow
flowers on a black ground, and the chairs were upholstered in green
plush. Every available shelf and ledge seemed to be crowded with
knick-knacks, and a stuffed pug reclined under a glass case in the
centre of a walnut chiffonier.
Eve understood her mother’s affection for all this bric-à-brac, but
to-night, when she came in out of the dew-washed dusk, the room
made her shudder. She wondered what effect it would have on
Canterton, though she knew he was far too big a man to sneer.
Mrs. Carfax, in black dress and white lace cap, sat in one of the
green plush arm-chairs. She was always pleased to see people, and
to chatter with amiable facility. And Canterton could be at his best
on such occasions. The little old lady thought him “so very nice.”
“It is so good of you to come down and see Eve’s paintings. Eve,
dear, fetch your portfolio. I am so sorry I could not come to Mrs.
Canterton’s garden party, but I have to be so very careful, because
of my heart. I get all out of breath and in a flutter so easily. Do sit
down. I think that is a comfortable chair.”
Canterton sat down, and Eve went for her portfolio.
“My husband was quite an artist, Mr. Canterton, though an
amateur. These are some of his pictures.”
“So the gift is inherited!”
“I don’t think Eve draws so well as her father did. You can see
——”
Canterton got up and went round looking at John Carfax’s
pictures. They were rather extraordinary productions, and the red
meat in the butcher’s shop was the colour of red sealing wax.
“Mr. Carfax liked ‘still life.’”
“Yes, he was a very quiet man. So fond of a littlelararium fishing
—when he could get it. That is why he painted fish so wonderfully.
Don’t you think so, Mr. Canterton?”
“Very probably.”
Eve returned and found Canterton studying the row of stucco
houses with their iron gates and euonymus hedges. She coloured.
“Will the lamp be right, Eve, dear?”
“Yes, mother.”

She opened her portfolio on a chair, and after arranging the
lamp-shade, proceeded to turn over sketch after sketch. Canterton
had drawn his chair to a spot where he could see the work at its
best. He said nothing, but nodded his head from time to time, while
Eve acted as show-woman.
Mrs. Carfax excelled herself.
“My dear, how queerly you must see things. I am sure I have
never seen anything like that.”
“Which, mother?”
“That queer, splodgy picture. I don’t understand the drawing.
Now, if you look at one of your father’s pictures, the butcher’s shop,
for instance——”
Eve smiled, almost tenderly.
“That is not a picture, mother. I mean, mine. It is just a whim.”
“My dear, how can you paint a whim?”
Eve glanced at Canterton and saw that he was absorbed in
studying the last picture she had turned up from the portfolio. His
eyes looked more deeply set and more intent, and he sat absolutely
motionless, his head bowed slightly.
“That is the best classic thing I managed to do.”
He looked at her, nodded, and turned his eyes again to the
picture.
“But even there——”
“There is a film of mystery?”
“Yes.”
“It was provoking. I’m afraid I have failed.”
“No. That is Latimer. It was just what I saw and felt myself,
though I could not have put it into colour. Show me the others
again.”
Mrs. Carfax knitted, and Eve put up sketch after sketch, watching
Canterton’s face.
“Now, I like that one, dear.”
“Do you, mother?”
“Yes, but why have you made all the poplar trees black?”
“They are not poplars, mother, but cypresses.”
“Oh, I see, cypresses, the trees they grow in cemeteries.”

Canterton began to talk to Eve.
“It is very strange that you should have seen just what I saw.”
“Is it? But you are not disappointed?”
His eyes met hers.
“I don’t know anybody else who could have brought back Latimer
like that. Quite wonderful.”
“You mean it?”
“Of course.”
He saw her colour deepen, and her eyes soften.
Mrs. Carfax was never long out of a conversation.
“Are they clever pictures, Mr. Canterton?”
“Very clever.”
“I don’t think I understand clever pictures. My husband could
paint a row of houses, and there they were.”
“Yes, that is a distinct gift. Some of us see more, others less.”
“Do you think that if Eve perseveres she will paint as well as her
father?”
Canterton remained perfectly grave.
“She sees things in a different way, and it is a very wonderful
way.”
“I am so glad you think so. Eve, dear, is it not nice to hear Mr.
Canterton say that?”
Mrs. Carfax chattered on till Eve grew restless, and Canterton,
who felt her restlessness, rose to go. He had come to be personal,
so far as Eve’s pictures were concerned, but he had been compelled
to be impersonal for the sake of the old lady, whose happy vacuity
emptied the room of all ideas.
“It was so good of you to come, Mr. Canterton.”
“I assure you I have enjoyed it.”
“I do wish we could persuade Mrs. Canterton to spend an
evening with us. But then, of course, she is such a busy, clever
woman, and we are such quiet, stay-at-home people. And I have to
go to bed at ten. My doctor is such a tyrant.”
“I hope I haven’t tired you.”
“Oh, dear, no! And please give my kind remembrance to Mrs.
Canterton.”

“Thank you. Good night!”
Canterton found himself in the garden with his hand on the gate
leading into the lane. The moon had swung clear of the fir woods,
and a pale, silvery horizon glimmered above the black tops of the
trees. Canterton wandered on down the lane, paused where it joined
the high road, and stood for a while under the dense canopy of a
yew.
He felt himself in a different atmosphere, breathing a new air,
and he let himself contemplate life as it might have appeared, had
there been no obvious barriers and limitations. For the moment he
had no desire to go back to Fernhill, to break the dream, and pick up
the associations that Fernhill suggested. The house was overrun by
his wife’s friends who had come to stay for the garden party. Lynette
would be asleep, and she alone, at Fernhill, entered into the drama
of his dreams.
Mrs. Carfax and the little maid had gone to bed, and Eve, left to
herself, was turning over her Latimer pictures and staring at them
with peculiar intensity. They suggested much more to her than the
Latimer gardens, being part of her own consciousness, and part of
another’s consciousness. Her face had a glowing pallor as she sat
there, musing, wondering, staring into impossible distances with a
mingling of exultation and unrest. Did he know what had happened
to them both? Had he realised all that had overtaken them in the
course of one short week?
The room felt close and hot, and turning down the lamp, Eve
went into the narrow hall, opened the door noiselessly, and stepped
out into the garden. Moonlight flooded it, and the dew glistened on
the grass. She wandered down the path, looking at the moon and
the mountainous black outlines of the fir woods. And suddenly she
stopped.
A man was sitting in the chair that had been left out on the lawn.
He started up, and stood bareheaded, looking at her half guiltily.
“Is it you?”
“I am sorry. I was just dreaming.”
He hesitated, one hand on the back of the chair.
“I wanted to think——”

“Yes.”
“Good night!”
“Good night!”
She watched him pass through the gate and down the lane. And
everything seemed very strange and still.

CHAPTER XIV
MRS. CARFAX FINISHES HER KNITTING
It was a curious coincidence that Mrs. Carfax should have come
to the end of her white wool that night, put her pins aside and left
her work unfinished.
It was the last time that Eve heard the familiar clicking of the
ivory pins, for Mrs. Carfax died quietly in her sleep, and was found
with a placid smile on her face, her white hair neatly parted into two
plaits, and her hands lying folded on the coverlet. She had died like
a child, dreaming, and smiling in the midst of her dreams.
For the moment Eve was incredulous as she bent over the bed,
for her mother’s face looked so fresh and tranquil. Then the truth
came to her, and she stood there, shocked and inarticulate, trying to
realise what had happened. Sudden and poignant memories rose up
and stung her. She remembered that she had almost despised the
little old lady who lay there so quietly, and now, in death, she saw
her as the child, a pathetic creature who had never escaped from a
futile childishness, who had never known the greater anguish and
the greater joys of those whose souls drink of the deep waters. A
great pity swept Eve away, a choking compassion, an inarticulate
remorse. She was conscious of sudden loneliness. All the memories
of long ago, evoked by the dead face, rose up and wounded her. She
knelt down, hid her face against the pillow, uttering in her heart that
most human cry of “Mother.”
Canterton was strangely restless that morning. Up at six, he
wandered about the gardens and nurseries, and Lavender, who
came to him about some special work that had to be done in one of
the glasshouses, found him absent and vague. The life of the day
seemed in abeyance, remaining poised at yesterday, when the moon
hung over the black ridge of the fir woods by Orchards Corner.
Daylight had come, but Canterton was still in the moonlight, sitting
in that chair on the dew-wet grass, dreaming, to be startled again by

Eve’s sudden presence. He wondered what she had thought,
whether she had suspected that he had been imagining her his wife,
Orchards Corner their home, and he, the man, sitting there in the
moonlight, while the woman he loved let down her dark hair before
the mirror in their room.
If Lavender could not wake James Canterton, breakfast and
Gertrude Canterton did. There were half a dozen of Gertrude’s
friends staying in the house, serious women who had travelled with
batches of pamphlets and earnest-minded magazines, and who
could talk sociology even at breakfast. Canterton came in early and
found Gertrude scribbling letters at the bureau in the window. None
of her friends were down yet, and a maid was lighting the spirit
lamps under the egg-boiler and the chafing dishes.
“Oh, James!”
“Yes.”
She was sitting in a glare of light, and Canterton was struck by
the thinness of her neck, and the way her chin poked forward. She
had done her hair in a hurry, and it looked streaky and meagre, and
the colour of wet sand. And this sunny morning the physical
repulsion she inspired in him came as a shock to his finer nature. It
might be ungenerous, and even shameful, but he could not help
considering her utter lack of feminine delicacy, and the hard, gaunt
outlines of her face and figure.
“I want you to take Mrs. Grigg Batsby round the nurseries this
morning. She is such an enthusiast.”
“I’ll see what time I have.”
“Do try to find time to oblige me sometimes. I don’t think you
know how much work you make for me, especially when you find
some eccentric way of insulting everybody at once.”
“What do you mean, Gertrude?”
The maid had left the room, and Gertrude Canterton half turned
in her chair. Her shoulders were wriggling, and she kept fidgeting
with her pen, rolling it to and fro between her thumb and forefinger.
“Can’t you imagine what people say when you put up wire
fences, and have the gates locked on the day of our garden party?”

“Do you think that Whiteley would hold a party in his business
premises?”
“Oh, don’t be so absurd! I wonder why people come here.”
“I really don’t know. Certainly not to look at the flowers.”
“Then why be so eccentrically offensive?”
“Because there are always a certain number of enthusiastic ladies
who like to get something for nothing. I believe it is a feminine
characteristic.”
Mrs. Grigg Batsby came sailing into the room, gracious as a great
galleon freighted with the riches of Peru. She was an extremely
wealthy person, and her consciousness of wealth shone like a golden
lustre, a holy effulgence that penetrated into every corner. Her
money had made her important, and filled her with a sort of after-
dinner self-satisfaction. She issued commands with playful regality,
ordered the clergy hither and thither, and had a half humorous and
half stately way of referring to any male thing as “It.”
“My dear Mrs. Batsby, I have just asked James to take you round
this morning.”
The lady rustled and beamed.
“And is ‘It’ agreeable? I have always heard that ‘Its’ time is so
precious.”
“James will be delighted.”
“Obliging thing.”
Canterton was reserved and a little stiff.
“I shall be ready at eleven. I can give you an hour, Mrs. Batsby.”
“‘It’ is really a humorist, Mrs. Canterton. That barbed wire! I
don’t think I ever came across anything so delightfully original.”
Gertrude frowned and screwed her shoulders.
“I cannot see the humour.”
“But I think Mrs. Batsby does. I have a good many original plants
on my premises.”
“Oh, you wicked, witty thing! And original sin?”
“Yes, it is still rather prevalent.”
There was no queen’s progress through the Fernhill grounds for
Mrs. Grigg Batsby that morning, for by ten o’clock her very existence
had been forgotten, and she was left reading the Athenæum, and

wondering, with hauteur, what had become of the treacherous “It.”
Women like Mrs. Grigg Batsby have a way of exacting as a right
what the average man would not presume to ask as a favour. That
they should happen to notice anything is in itself a sufficient honour
conferred upon the recipient, who becomes a debtor to them in
service.
Canterton had drifted in search of Eve, had failed to find her, and
was posing himself with various questions, when one of the under-
gardeners brought him a letter. It had taken the man twenty minutes
of hide and seek to trace Canterton’s restless wanderings.
“Just come from Orchards Corner, sir. The young lady brought it.”
“Miss Carfax?”
“No, sir, the young lady.”
“I see. All right, Gibbs.”
Canterton opened the letter, and stood reading it in the shade of
a row of cypresses.
“Dear Mr. Canterton,—Mother died in the night. She
must have died in her sleep. I always knew it might
happen, but I never suspected that it would happen so
suddenly. It has numbed me, and yet made me think.
“I wanted you to know why I did not come to-day.
“Eve Carfax.”
Canterton stood stock still, his eyes staring at Eve’s letter. He was
moved, strongly moved, as all big-hearted people must be by the
sudden and capricious presence of Death. The little white-haired,
chattering figure had seemed so much alive the night before, so far
from the dark waters, with her child’s face and busy hands. And Eve
had written to tell him the news, to warn him why she had not come
to Fernhill. This letter of hers—it asked nothing, and yet its very
muteness craved more than any words could ask. To Canterton it
was full of many subtle and intimate messages. She wanted him to
know why she had stayed away, though she did not ask him to come
to her. She had let him know that she was stricken, and that was all.

He put the letter in his pocket, forgot about Mrs. Grigg Batsby,
and started for Orchards Corner.
All the blinds were down, and the little house had a blank and
puzzled look. The chair that he had used the previous night still
stood in the middle of one of the lawns. Canterton opened and
closed the gate noiselessly, and walked up the gravel path.
Eve herself came to the door. He had had a feeling that she had
expected him to come to her, and when he looked into her eyes he
knew that he had not been wrong. She was pale, and quite calm,
though her eyes looked darker and more mysterious.
“Will you come in?”
There was no hesitation, no formalism. Each seemed to be
obeying an inevitable impulse.
Canterton remained silent. Eve opened the door of the drawing-
room, and he followed her. She sat down on one of the green plush
chairs, and the dim light seemed part of the silence.
“I thought you might come.”
“Of course I came.”
He put his hat on the round table. Eve glanced round the room at
the pictures, the furniture and the ornaments.
“I have been sitting here in this room. I came in here because I
realised what a ghastly prig I have been at times. I wanted to be
hurt—and hurt badly. Isn’t it wonderful how death strips off one’s
conceit?”
He leant forward with his elbows on his knees, a listener—one
who understood.
“How I used to hate these things, and to sneer at them. I called
them Victorian, and felt superior. Tell me, what right have we ever to
feel superior?”
“We are all guilty of that.”
“Guilty of despising other colour schemes that don’t tone with
ours. I suppose each generation is more or less colour-blind in its
sympathies. Why, she was just a child—just a child that had never
grown up, and these were her toys. Oh, I understand it now! I
understood it when I looked at her child’s face as she lay dead. The
curse of being one of the clever little people!”

“You are not that.”
She lay back and covered her eyes with her hands. It was a still
grief, the grief of a pride that humbles itself and makes no mere
empty outcry.
Canterton watched her, still as a statue. But his eyes and mouth
were alive, and within him the warm blood seemed to mount and
tremble in his throat.
“I think she was quite happy.”
“Did I do very much?”
“She was very proud of you in her way. I could see that.”
“Don’t!”
“You are making things too deep, too difficult. You say, ‘She was
just a child.’”
Her hands dropped from her face.
“Yes.”
“Your moods passed over her and were not noticed. Some people
are not conscious of clouds.”
She mused.
“Yes, but that does not make me feel less guilty.”
“It might make you feel less bitter regret.”
Canterton sat back in his chair, spreading his shoulders and
drawing in a deep breath.
“Have you wired to your relatives?”
“They don’t exist. Father was an only son, and mother had only
one brother. He is a doctor in a colliery town, and one of the unlucky
mortals. It would puzzle him to find the train fare. He married when
he was fifty, and has about seven children.”
“Very well, you will let me do everything.”
He did not speak as a petitioner, but as a man who was calmly
claiming a most natural right.
She glanced at him, and his eyes dominated hers.
“But—I can’t bother you——”
“I can arrange everything. If you will tell me what you wish—
what your mother would have wished.”
“It will have to be very quiet. You see, we——”

“I understand all that. Would you like Lynette to come and see
you?”
“Yes, oh, yes! I should like Lynette to come.”
He pondered a moment, staring at the carpet with its crude
patterning of colours, and when again he began to speak he did not
raise his head to look at her.
“Of course, this will make no difference to the future?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me exactly.”
“All mother’s income dies with her. I have the furniture, and a
little money in hand.”
“Would you live on here, or take rooms?”
She hesitated.
“Perhaps.”
His eyes rose to meet hers.
“I want you to stay. We can work together. I’m not inventing
work for you. It’s there. It has been there for the last two or three
years.”
He spoke very gently, and yet some raw surface within her was
touched and hurt. Her mouth quivered with sensitive cynicism.
“A woman, when she is alone, must get money—somehow. It is
bitter bread that many of us have to eat.”
“I did not mean to make it taste bitter.”
Her mouth and eyes softened instantly.
“You? No. You are different. And that——”
“Well?”
“And that makes it more difficult, in a way.”
“Why should it?”
“It does.”
She bent her head as though trying to hide her face from him.
He did not seem to be conscious of what was happening, and of
what might happen. His eyes were clear and far sighted, but they
missed the foreground and its complex details.
He left his chair and came and stood by her.
“Eve.”
“Yes?”

“Did I say one word about money? Well, let’s have it out, and the
dross done with. I ask you to be my illustrator, colour expert, garden
artist—call it what you like. The work is there, more work than you
can manage. I offer you five hundred a year.”
She still hid her face from him.
“That is preposterous. But it is like you in its generosity. But I
——”
“Think. You and I see things as no two other people see them. It
is an age of gardens, and I am being more and more pestered by
people who want to buy plants and ideas. Why, you and I could
create some of the finest things in colour. Think of it. You only want
a little more technical knowledge. The genius is there.”
She appealed to him with a gesture of the hand.
“Stop, let me think!”
He walked to the window and waited.
Presently Eve spoke, and the strange softness of her voice made
him wonder.
“Yes, it might be possible.”
“Then you accept?”
“Yes, I accept.”

CHAPTER XV
LYNETTE PUTS ON BLACK
Lynette had a little black velvet frock that had been put away in a
drawer, because it was somewhat tarnished and out of fashion.
Moreover, Lynette had grown three or four inches since the black
frock had been made, and even a Queen of the Fairies’ legs will
lengthen. Over this dress rose a contest in which Lynette engaged
both her mother and Miss Vance, and showed some of that tranquil
and wise obstinacy that characterised her father.
Lynette appeared for lessons, clad in this same black frock, and
Miss Vance, being a matter-of-fact and good-naturedly dictatorial
adult, proceeded to raise objections.
“Lynette, what have you been doing?”
“What do you mean, Vancie?”
“Miss Vance, if you please. Who told you to put on that dress?”
“I told myself to do it.”
“Then please tell yourself to go and change it. It is not at all
suitable.”
“But it is.”
“My dear, don’t argue! You are quite two years too old for that
frock.”
“Mary can let it out.”
“Go and change it!”
Lynette had her moments of dignity, and this was an occasion for
stateliness.
“Vancie, don’t dare to speak to me like that! I’m in mourning.”
“In mourning! For whom?”
“Miss Eve’s mother, of course! Miss Eve is in mourning, and I
know father puts on a black tie.”
“My dear, don’t be——”

“Vancie, I am going to wear this frock. You’re not a great friend
of Miss Eve’s, like me. She’s the dearest friend in the world.”
The governess felt that the dress was eccentric, and yet that
Lynette had a sentimental conviction that carried her cause through.
Miss Vance happened to be in a tactless mood, and appealed to
Gertrude Canterton, and to Gertrude the idea of Lynette going into
mourning because a certain young woman had lost her mother was
whimsical and absurd.
“Lynette, go and change that dress immediately!”
It was then that Canterton came out in his child. She was
serenely and demurely determined.
“I must wear it, mother!”
“You will do nothing of the kind. The skirt is perfectly indecent.”
“Why?”
“Your—your knees are showing.”
“I am not ashamed of my knees.”
“Lynette, don’t argue! Understand that I will be obeyed. Go and
change that dress!”
“I am very sorry, mother, but I can’t. You don’t know what great
deep friends me and Miss Eve are.”
Neither ridicule nor fussy attempts at intimidation had any effect.
There was something in the child’s eyes and manner that forbade
physical coercion. She was sure in her sentiment, standing out for
some ideal of sympathy that was fine and convincing to herself.
Lynette appealed to her father, and to her father the case was
carried.
He sided with Lynette, but not in Lynette’s hearing.
“What on earth is there to object to, Gertrude?”
“It is quite absurd, the child wanting to go into mourning
because old Mrs. Carfax is dead.”
“Children have a way of being absurd, and very often the gods
are absurd with them. The child shall have a black frock.”
Gertrude twitched her shoulders, and refused to be responsible
for Canterton’s methods.
“You are spoiling that child. I know it is quite useless for me to
suggest anything.”

“You are not much of a child yourself, Gertrude. I am. That
makes a difference.”
Canterton had his car out that afternoon and drove twenty miles
to Reading, with Lynette on the seat beside him. He knew, better
than any woman, what suited the child, so Lynette had a black frock
and a little Quaker bonnet to wear for that other child, Mrs. Carfax,
who was dead.
Within a week Eve was back at Fernhill, painting masses of
hollyhocks and sweet peas, with giant sunflowers and purple-spiked
buddlea for a background. Perhaps nothing had touched her more
than Lynette’s black frock and the impulsive sympathy that had
suggested it.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Eve, dear. I do love you ever so much more
now.”
And Eve had never been nearer tears, with Lynette snuggling up
to her, one arm round her neck, and her warm breath on Eve’s
cheek.
It was holiday time, and Miss Vance’s authority was reduced to
the supervision of country walks, and the giving of a daily piano
lesson. Punch, the terrier, accompanied them on their walks, and
Miss Vance hated the dog, feeling herself responsible for Punch’s
improprieties. Her month’s holiday began in a few days, and Lynette
had her eyes on five weeks of unblemished liberty.
“Vancie goes on Friday. Isn’t it grand!”
“But you ought not to be so glad, dear.”
“But I am glad. Aren’t you? I can paint all day like you, and we’ll
have picnics, and make daddy take us on the river.”
“Of course, I’m glad you’ll be with me.”
“Vancie can’t play. You see she’s so very old and grown up.”
“I don’t think she is much older than I am.”
“Oh, Miss Eve, years and years! Besides, you’re so beautiful.”
“You wicked flatterer.”
“I’m not a flatterer. I’m sure daddy thinks so. I know he does.”
Eve felt herself flushing, and her heart misgave her, for the lips of
the child made her thrill and feel afraid. She had accepted the new
life tentatively yet recklessly, trying to shut her eyes to the possible

Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.
More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge
connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.
Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and
personal growth every day!
ebookbell.com

The Public Library Service Iflaunesco Guidelines For Development Reprint 2013 Philip Gill Editor Section Of Public Libraries Editor

More Related Content

Similar to The Public Library Service Iflaunesco Guidelines For Development Reprint 2013 Philip Gill Editor Section Of Public Libraries Editor (20)

Recently uploaded (20)

The Public Library Service Iflaunesco Guidelines For Development Reprint 2013 Philip Gill Editor Section Of Public Libraries Editor