2. Feel it. If it is to touch your class it must first have touched you.
3. Shorten it. It is probably too long. Brevity is the soul of story-telling.
4. Expand it. It is probably meager in necessary background, in details.
5. Master it. Practice. Repetition is the mother of stories well told; readiness, the secret of classes well held.
6. Repeat it. Don't be afraid of re-telling a good story. The younger the children are, the better they like old friends. But every one loves a "twice-told tale."
VI.
SOME FIRST PRINCIPLES: UNITY, REALITY, ORDER.
Unity.
One of the greatest of American preachers never goes beyond "firstly." He makes but one point in each sermon. But he makes that point, drives it home, burns it in, wears a crease in the brain that nothing can ever iron out. Every picture—and those sermons are full of pictures—bears upon that one point, and every argument and lesson, for which the pictures have been laying the foundation, is a part of the same unity. You never hear him say, "And we learn further," but always, "The same truth comes out in another way." One is never more than two bases away from the home plate. It is not a cross-country run, but a game of score and tally.
At the opposite pole from this intensive method is the typical Sunday-school lesson. The typical Sunday-school lesson is—is it not?—hodge-podge. Does the last lesson always bear upon the lesson of to-day? Is to-day's aim single? Do you hold before your mind the one point, the one picture, that your pupils shall carry away with them as an everlasting possession, or do you have in mind to display so many pictures, so many points, that some must needs take effect?