Church. Three Greek children.
Mr. Church is an accomplished restorer of the antique, and has a keen discrimination for points appealing to child-like magnetism.
Cooper. The spy.
A story founded upon fact. The same adventitious causes which gave birth to the book determined its scenes and its general character.
It will be seen that not one of these annotations conveys an idea of subject, quality, or treatment, while in two of them at least it is evident that the annotator knew nothing at all about the book.
Articles on children's reading are in general either sentimental or prejudiced, and they are not of direct practical use to the children's librarian. Reading such articles, however, is interesting and often suggestive. Their best feature is the hints they now and then give of some book or class of books that has pleased children, and that the librarian does not know or had not thought of.
Turning to specific points in Miss Hewins' paper, one is inclined to question the stringent criticisms of the "Pansy" books, the "Prudy" books, "Editha's burglar," and the like stories, that certainly do delight many children, though they may not be of a high literary plane. Nor do I believe in children's books carefully "written down" to their audience and never rising above their comprehension. "Words-in-one-syllable" books are obnoxious to a right-minded child. It is a good thing to be given now and then what is above our comprehension. What we don't quite understand holds a strong fascination. Nor do I believe that the "horrors" of the old fairy stories are particularly harmful—the thrills they impart have a subtle charm, and most children delight in "horrors." The difficulty is to steer between what is vulgar and coarse or trashily sentimental on the one hand, and the limiting of a children's collection only to "pretty-pretty" stories, innocuous but utterly without character or variety, on the other. Such a collection should be made as broad, as varied, as catholic as it can be, including old books, English books—Miss Yonge, Miss Shaw, Miss Strickland—not just current and American books.
In conclusion, the most important thing is to know the books themselves. This could not be possible for the librarian of a general collection, but it is possible, and ought to be indispensable, for the librarian of a special class of literature. A children's librarian can make herself familiar with the literature suitable for children, and should do so. Personal familiarity is better than all "evaluations" by other people. There should be a constant interchange of criticism and experience among those working in this field—it is as yet small enough to permit this. This should be largely personal and individual—not brought out as a public expression—until there is developed a better basis for critical and literary discernment in this subject than now exists. The most important thing to do is not to rush hastily into print—to "educate ourselves in public"—but to set to work to know our books, and through such knowledge to establish a fund of critical judgment and experience that will later make it possible for the utterances of children's librarians to carry weight in their own field of literature.
There followed a "collective paper," in three parts, each part being treated by a special writer. It dealt with
THE BOOKS THEMSELVES.