Carlyle says, "Not what I have, but what I do, is my kingdom," and I take that to mean in library work that my opportunity is not what I could do if I held some other position in some other library, but what I can do under present conditions with present means. Success does not lie with those who continually wish for something they haven't got, but with those who do the best possible thing with the things they have. "It is not so much the ship as the skilful sailing that assures a prosperous voyage." It is not so much a great collection of books and a fine technical organization as the personal character of the man or woman who stands as a bridge between the books and the people. Your opportunity and mine does not lie in our circumstances, but in ourselves, and in our ability to see and to grasp the coveted opportunity. We are reminded of the pious darkey who prayed every night just before Christmas, "Dear Lord, send dis darkey a turkey." Christmas came dangerously near, and there was no prospect of a turkey. So the night before Christmas he grew desperate, and prayed, "Dear Lord, send dis darkey to a turkey." That night the turkey came. Even so it is with our opportunities. There are three classes of people toward whom the library has a special mission: the children, the foreigner, and the working classes. 1. As to the children, we have been hearing considerably about them in this conference. Mr. Hutchins in the Wisconsin meeting said that a good book did more good in a country boy's home than in the city boy's. When the country boy takes a book home he and all his family devour it, but the town boy reads his book and exchanges it, and no one in the house perhaps even knows that he has read it. Well, that is a subject for thought. If his family or teachers do not watch his reading, it becomes a serious thing for the librarian who chooses and buys his books for him. Perhaps the library is not large enough to have a children's department or to send books into the schools, or to do any specialized children's work, but it can make judicious selection of books, and being small can know individual cases among the children. It is not so hard to find out the children one by one who need some care and interest, to learn their names and to find out something about their families. They say that letters cut lightly in the bark of a sapling show even more plainly in the grown tree. A boy whom no one has reached comes into your library. By a little watchful care he reads some wonderful life, learns some of the marvellous forces in God's creation, opens his eyes to the glowing sunsets or to the springing blades of grass; suddenly knows the dignity of human nature and his own growing self. His aspirations are born, his ambition is awakened, his life is changed. Library records have not one, but many such cases.