The club meets every second Wednesday, and the members read papers, after which there is tea and a social hour.

The papers vary in degree alone, as the writer happens to be a skimmer, a wader, or a deep-sea diver in standard editions of the encyclopedias.

The social hour, however, occasionally develops in a direction quite away from the realms of pure culture.
Such a town, with such a woman's club, was Lake City, Minnesota, a few years ago.

Lake City had a busy and a prosperous male population, a woman's club bent on intellectual uplift, and a place where there was going to be a park.

One windy second Wednesday the club members arrived with their eyes full of dust, soot on their white gloves, and indignation in their hearts.