Special anniversaries require special making. We possess a doll of 1794 to whom her old mother bequeathed her birthday. The doll's birthday is a great event, and on the previous day each class in turn bakes tiny loaves, or cakes or pastry for the party.
Christmas creates a need for decorations, Christmas cards and presents, and Empire Day and Trafalgar Day for flags, while in many places there is an annual sale on behalf of a charity.
It does not do to be too modern and to despise all the old-fashioned "makings," which gave such pleasure some years ago. Kindergarten Paper-folding has fallen into an undeserved oblivion. The making of boats or cocked-hats from old newspaper is a great achievement for a child, and to make pigs and purses, corner cupboards and chairs for paper dolls is still a delight, and calls forth real concentration and effort.
Making in connection with some whole, such as the continuous representation of life around us, and, at a later stage, the re-inventing of primitive industries, or making which arises out of some special interest may have a higher educational value, but apart from this, children want to make for making's sake. "Can't I make something in wood like Boy does?" asked a little girl. There is joy in the making, joy in being a cause, and for this the children need opportunity, space and time. There is a lesson to many of us in some verses by Miss F. Sharpley, lately published (Educational Handwork), which should be entitled, "When can I make my little Ship?"
I'd like to cut, and cut, and cut,
And over the bare floor
To strew my papers all about,
And then to cut some more.
I'd sweep them up so neatly, too,
But mother says, "Oh no!
There is no time, it's seven o'clock;
To bed you quickly go!"
In school, I'd just begun to make
A pretty little ship,
But I was slow, and all the rest
Stood up to dance and skip.
When shall I make my little ship?
At home there is no gloy,
And father builds it by himself
Or goes to buy a toy.