On the other hand, there are many stories of the saints dealing with actions and motives which would appeal to the imagination and are not only worthy of imitation, but are not wholly outside the life and experience even of the child.[30]
Having protested against the elephantine joke and the too-frequent use of exaggerated fun, I now endeavour to restore the balance by suggesting the introduction into the school curriculum of a few purely grotesque stories which serve as an antidote to sentimentality or utilitarianism. But they must be presented as nonsense, so that the children may use them for what they are intended, as pure relaxation. Such a story is that of “The Wolf and the Kids.” I have had serious objections offered to this story by several educational people, because of the revenge taken by the goat on the wolf, but I am inclined to think that if the story is to be taken as anything but sheer nonsense, it is surely sentimental to extend our sympathy towards a caller who has devoured six of his hostess' children. With regard to the wolf being cut open, there is not the slightest need to accentuate the physical side. Children accept the deed as they accept the cutting off of a giant's head, because they do not associate it with pain, especially if the deed is presented half-humorously. The moment in the story where their sympathy is aroused is the swallowing of the kids, because the children do realise the possibility of being disposed of in the mother's absence. (Needless to say, I never point out the moral of the kids' disobedience to the mother in opening the door.) I have always noticed a moment of breathlessness even in a grown-up audience when the wolf swallows the kids, and that the recovery of them “all safe and sound, all huddled together” is quite as much appreciated by the adult audience as by the children, and is worth the tremor caused by the wolf's summary action.
I have not always been able to impress upon the teachers that this story must be taken lightly. A very earnest young student came to me once after I had told it, and said in an awestruck voice: “Do you Correlate?” Having recovered from the effect of this word, which she carefully explained, I said that as a rule I preferred to keep the story apart from the other lessons, just an undivided whole, because it had effects of its own which were best brought about by not being connected with other lessons.[31] She frowned her disapproval and said: “I am sorry, because I thought I would take The Goat for my Nature Study lesson, and then tell your story at the end.” I thought of the terrible struggle in the child's mind between his conscientious wish to be accurate and his dramatic enjoyment of the abnormal habits of a goat who went out with scissors, needle and thread; but I have been most careful since to repudiate any connection with Nature Study in this and a few other stories in my répertoire.
One might occasionally introduce one of Edward Lear's “Book of Nonsense.” For instance:
There was an Old Man of Cape Horn,
Who wished he had never been born;
So he sat in a chair till he died of despair,
That dolorous Man of Cape Horn.
Now, except in case of very young children, this could not possibly be taken seriously. The least observant normal boy or girl would recognise the hollowness of the pessimism that prevents a man from at least an attempt to rise from his chair.