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Transcriber’s Note

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A [list] of these changes is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been maintained. A [list] of inconsistently spelled and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text.

A NEW AND ORIGINAL
PLAN FOR READING APPLIED TO THE
WORLD’S BEST LITERATURE
FOR CHILDREN

BY
CHARLES H. SYLVESTER
Author of English and American Literature

VOLUME TEN—THE GUIDE
New Edition

For parents, teachers, and all who have
children under their charge; for adult
who wish to renew their acquaintance
with the friends of their youth, or to
open for the first time the world’s great
treasure house of literature; for youthful
readers who must study the classics

Chicago
BELLOWS-REEVE COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1922
BELLOWS-REEVE COMPANY

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

Halftone Portraits of Authors

CHAPTER I
Introduction

Everyone who associates with children becomes deeply interested in them. Their helplessness during their early years appeals warmly to sympathy; their acute desire to learn and their responsiveness to suggestion make teaching a delight; their loyalty and devotion warm the heart and inspire the wish to do the things that count for most. Everything combines to increase a sense of responsibility and to make the elders active in bringing to bear those influences that make for character, power and success.

Every worthy teacher in every school gives more than her salary commands and puts heart power into every act. By example and precept the lessons are taught and growth follows in response to cultivation. But the schools are handicapped by lack of time for much personal care, by lack of facilities for the best of instruction and by the multiplicity of things that must be done. Under the best conditions a teacher has but a small part of a child’s time and then instruction must be given usually to classes and not to individuals. Outside of school for a considerable time each day the child falls under the influence of playmates who may or may not be helpful, but the greater part of every twenty-four hours belongs to the home.

Parents, guardians, brothers and sisters, servants, consciously or unconsciously, wisely or unwisely, are teaching all the time. It is from this great complex of influences that every child builds his character and lays the foundation of whatever success he afterwards achieves.

Undoubtedly the home is the greatest single influence and that is strongest during the early years. Before a boy is seven the elements of his character begin to form; by the time he is fourteen his future usually can be predicted, and after he is twenty, few real changes are brought about in the character of the man. The schools can do little more than plant the seeds of culture; in the family must the young plants be watered, nourished and trained. Then will the growth be symmetrical and beautiful.

When the school and the home work together, when parents and teacher are in hearty sympathy, the great work is easily accomplished. But this harmony in interest is difficult to secure. In the first place it is not possible frequently for parents and teachers to become acquainted; usually is it impossible for them to know one another intimately. Here there are two forces, each ignorant of the other, but both trying for a common end. Again, parents in many, many instances are not acquainted with the schools nor with the methods of instruction which are followed therein. What is done by one may be undone by the other. If there could be a common ground of meeting, much labor would be saved and greater harmony of effort established.

When fathers and mothers are willing to take time enough from their other duties to show that sympathetic interest in juvenile tasks which is the greatest stimulus to intelligent effort, when they wish to know what work each child is doing and where in each text book his lessons are, when the multiplication table and the story of Cinderella are of as much importance as the price of meat or the profit on a yard of silk, then will the parents and the teachers come together in whatever field appears mutually acceptable.

Everybody reads, and reading is now the greatest single influence upon humanity. The day of the orator has passed, the day of print has long been upon us. No adult remains long uninfluenced by what he reads persistently, and every child receives more impressions from his reading than from all other sources put together.

Someone has shown forcibly by a graphic diagram the ideas we are most anxious to establish. In this diagram of Forces in Education, the circle represents the sum total of all those influences which tend to make the mind and character of the growing child. That half of the circle to the right of the heavy line represents the forces of the school; the half to the left, the forces that come into play outside the teacher’s domain. In school are the various studies taught; reading, writing, language, nature, geography, history, arithmetic. Other things such as morals, manners, hygiene, etc., come in for their share of force in the division “Miscellaneous.” Out of school the child’s work influences him; his playmates affect him more; the example and instruction of his parents form his habits, thought and character to a still greater extent; but more than any one, as much as the three combined, does his home reading shape his destiny.

That this last statement is no exaggeration is proved by the testimony of many a wise and thoughtful man, by the observation of teachers everywhere. When a child has learned to read, he possesses the instrument of highest culture, but at the same time the instrument of greater danger. Bad books or bad methods of reading good books lead the reader’s mind astray or stimulate a destructive imagination that affects character forever; but good books and right methods of reading make the soul sensitive to right and wrong, improve the mind, inspire to higher ideals and lead to loftier effort.

Here is the one fertile field wherein teacher, parent and every other person interested in the welfare of children and youth may meet and work together in the noblest cause God ever gave us the grace to see.

“I have a notion,” said Benjamin Harrison, “that children are about the only people we can do anything for. When we get to be men and women we are either spoiled or improved. The work is done.” One of the best things we can do is to create a taste for good reading and cultivate a habit of reading in the right manner. It is an easy and a delightful task.

How many parents do it? Let them live with their children in the realm the little ones love. Let them read the fairy tales, the myths, the stories, the history that childhood appreciates, not in a spirit of criticism or in the role of a dictator but as a child of a little larger growth, a man or woman with a youthful mind.

How many teachers assist? By so teaching that reading becomes an inspiration in itself; that only mastery contents; that beauty, high sentiment, lofty ideals may be found and followed; by making the reading recitation the one delightful hour of the day.

If any mature person at home can spend each week a few hours in reading and talking with the children about what has been read he will be surprised to find how lightly the time passes and how quickly his own cares and anxieties are dissipated. He will find greater delight than he has ever known in the society of his equals; and the younger ones, whose minds glow with helpful curiosity and absorbing interest will be kept to that extent from the street and its attractions, while at the same time they are learning those things that count for most in life’s great battle.

Let no one feel in the least uncertain of his power to interest and delight. Let him have no hesitation in joining in with the children, in meeting them on their level and in sharing thought and feeling with them. By being a child himself he most easily makes of himself a wise and inspiring leader.

CHAPTER II
Journeys Through Bookland—Its Contents And Plan

Journeys Through Bookland is what the title signifies, a series of excursions into the field of the world’s greatest literature. Accordingly, the base of the work is laid in those great classics that, since first they found expression in words, have been the education and inspiration of man. But these excursions are taken hand-in-hand with a leader, whose province it is to explain, to interpret, to guide and to direct. Suiting his labors to the age and acquirement of the readers he helps them all, from the child halting in his early attempts to interpret the printed page to the high school or college student who wishes to master the innermost secrets of literature. In no small sense is this leadership a labor of love, for it follows an experience of twenty years of personal instruction in the public schools and among the teachers of the country.

Journeys Through Bookland must be considered as a unit; for one plan, one purpose, controls from the first page of the first volume to the last page of the tenth. The literary selections were not chosen haphazard nor were they graded and arranged after any ordinary plan. In this respect they differ in character and arrangement from the selections in any other work now upon the market.

Moreover, the notes, interpretations, original articles and multifarious helps are an integral part and are inseparable. In this respect, again, is the work original and unique.

Further, the pictures, of which there are many hundreds, were drawn or painted expressly for Journeys Through Bookland and are as much a part of the general scheme as any other help to appreciation. Again, the type page, the decorations, the paper, binding and endsheets, all combine to give an artistic setting to literary masterpieces and a stimulating atmosphere for literary study.

The masterpieces which make the field of the Journeys naturally fall into three classes. First, there is the literature of culture, those things which you and I and everybody must know if we expect to be considered educated or to be able to read with intelligence and appreciation the current writings of the day. To this class belong all those nursery rhymes, lyrics, classic myths, legends and so on to which allusion is constantly made and which are themselves the legal tender of polite and cultured conversation. Next, there are those selections whose power lies in the profound influence they exert upon the unfolding character of boy or girl. As a child readeth so is he. Masterpieces of this type abound in the books and it is by means of them that the author hopes and expects to exert his greatest influence upon his unknown friends among the children. The third group consists of the masterpieces which lend interest to school work and make it pleasanter, easier and more profitable. It is what some may call the practical side of literature. It is what, at first, appeals most strongly to those who have read little, but which ultimately appears of less value than the influence of cultural and character-building literature.

Any treatment of Journeys that is worthy of the name must consider the masterpieces themselves in their three great functions, as well as the devices by which the selections are made effective.

1. The Masterpieces

The table of contents at the beginning of each volume shows a wide selection of the best things that have ever been written for children—not always the new things, but always the best things for the purpose. The masterpieces are the tried and true ones that have long been popular with children and have formed a large part of the literary education of the race.

There are a host of complete masterpieces and many selections from other works which are too long to print here or which are otherwise unavailable. It has often happened that something written for older heads and for serious purposes has in it some of the most charming and helpful things for the young. For instance, Gulliver’s Travels is a political satire, and as such it is long since dead. Yet parts of it make the most fascinating reading for children. Moreover, Swift and many other great writers defiled their pages with matter which ought to be unprintable. To bring together the good things from such writers, to reprint them with all the graces of style they originally possessed, and yet so carefully to edit them that there can be no suggestion of offense, has been the constant aim of the writer.

The books contain, too, many beautiful selections translated from foreign languages and made fresh, attractive and inspiring. Many of the old fables and folk stories have been rewritten, but others which have existed long in good form have been left untouched. In the great masterpieces no liberties have been taken with the text without making known the fact, and in every case the most reliable edition has been followed. It is hoped that children will have nothing to “unlearn” from the reading of these books.

There are not a few old things in the set that are really new, because they have heretofore been inaccessible to children except in musty books not likely to be met.

This is no haphazard collection made hastily, and largely at the suggestion of others. Everything in the books has been read and reread by the writer. True, he has availed himself of the help of others, and to many his obligations are deep and lasting; but in the end the responsibility for selection and for the quantity and quality of the helps is wholly his.

2. Arrangement and Grading

The contents of the books have been graded from the nursery rhymes in the first volume to the rather difficult selections in the ninth volume. In the arrangement, however, not all the simplest reading is in the first volume. It might be better understood if we say that one volume overlaps another, so that, for instance, the latter part of the first volume is more difficult than the first part of the second volume. When a child is able to read in the third volume he will find something to interest him in all the volumes.

What has been said, however, does not wholly explain the system of arrangement. Fiction, poetry, essays, biography, nature-study, science and history are all fairly represented in the selections, but no book is given over exclusively to any subject. Rather is it so arranged that the child who reads by course will traverse nearly every subject in every volume, and to him the different subjects will be presented logically in the order in which his growing mind demands them. We might say that as he reads from volume to volume, he travels in an ever widening and rising spiral. The fiction of the first volume consists of fables, fairy tales and folk stories; the poetry of nursery rhymes and children’s verses; the biography of anecdotal sketches of Field and Stevenson; and history is suggested in the quaintly written Story of Joseph. On a subsequent turn of the spiral are found fiction from Scott and Swift; poetry from Homer, Vergil, Hay, Gilbert and Tennyson; hero stories from Malory; history from Washington Irving.

If, however, some inquiring young person should wish to read all there is on history, biography or any other subject, the full index in the tenth volume will show him where everything of the nature he wishes is to be found.

Another valuable feature of arrangement is the frequent bringing together of selections that bear some relation to one another. A simple cycle of this sort may be seen where in the eighth volume the account of Lord Nelson’s great naval victory is followed by Casabianca; a better one where in the fifth volume there is an account of King Arthur, followed by tales of the Round Table Knights from Malory, and Geraint and Enid and The Passing of Arthur from Tennyson. By this plan one selection serves as the setting for another, and a child often can see how the real things of life prove the inspiration for great writers. Again, in the fourth volume is The Pine Tree Shillings, a New England story or tradition for girls; this is followed immediately by The Sunken Treasure, a vivid story for boys; next comes The Hutchinson Mob, a semi-historical sketch, followed in turn by The Boston Massacre, which is pure history. The cycle is completed by The Landing of the Pilgrims and Sheridan’s Ride, two historical poems.

Graphic Classification of Masterpieces on page 14 will show more clearly what is meant by the overlapping of subjects. In the column at the left are given the names of the subjects under which the selections have been classified, running from Fables to Drama, and Studies, the last name including all the varied helps given by the author. Across the top of the table the Roman numerals, I to X, indicate the numbers of the ten volumes. The shading in the squares shows the relative quantity of material. In using the Classification, “read across to learn in which volume the subjects are treated; read down to find what each volume contains.” Thus: The first volume contains (reading down), a great many fables, many fairy stories and much folk lore, a few myths and old stories, a little biography, some biblical or religious material, selections that may be classified under the heads of nature, humor and poetry; but there is no account of legendary heroes, no travel and adventure, no history, nothing of a patriotic nature and no drama. On the other hand (reading across), there are many fables in the first volume, a few in the second but none thereafter; a few myths and some classic literature are found in the first three volumes, more in the fourth and fifth, but the number and quantity decrease in the sixth and do not appear thereafter; nature work is to be found in all the volumes but is strongest in the seventh; drama appears in the eighth and the ninth. Biography has a place in all volumes, but is strongest in the seventh; while the Studies, appearing in all volumes, reach their highest point in the tenth.

3. The Studies and Helps

As has been said, the chief factors in making Journeys Through Bookland unique and of greatest value are the many helps that are given the readers, young and old. These helps are varied in character and are widely distributed through the volumes. They must be considered one at a time by the person who would assist others to use them to the best purpose. These helps consist of what are technically known as studies, notes, introductory notes, biographies, pronouncing vocabularies, pictures, tables of contents and index. The following comments will make clear the purpose of each.

Graphic Classification of Masterpieces

Read across to learn in which volumes the subjects are treated; read down to find what each volume contains.

a. Studies. Every volume contains a large number of helps of different kinds for young people. Usually these are in connection with some selection and are adapted to the age of the boy or girl most likely to read the piece. As each study is presented in an interesting and informal manner and does not cover many points, it is felt that young people will enjoy them only less than the masterpieces themselves.

The studies are arranged as systematically as the selections, and are graded even more carefully. Their scope and method will be more fully explained in subsequent sections of this volume.

b. Notes. These consist of explanatory notes, that are placed wherever they seem to be needed. They explain words not usually found readily in the dictionaries, foreign phrases, and such historical or other allusions as are necessary to an understanding of the text by youthful readers. These notes are placed at the bottom of the page that needs explanation, and so are immediately available. In such a position they are more liable to be read than if gathered together at the end of the volume. They are neither formal nor pedantic, and are as brief as is consistent with clearness. Their purpose is to help the reader, not to show the writer’s knowledge.

c. Introductory Notes. At the heads of selections from longer masterpieces are introductory notes which give some little account of the larger work and enough of the context so that the selection may not seem a fragment. In some instances this note gives the historical setting of a masterpiece or tells something of the circumstances under which it was written, when those facts help to an appreciation of the selection. Sometimes an acquaintance with the personality of an author is so necessary to a clear understanding of what he writes that a brief sketch of his life or a few anecdotes that show his character are given in the note preceding what he has written. These notes are printed in the same type as the text, especially in the first four volumes, for they are felt to be worthy of equal consideration.

d. Biographies. Besides the biographical notes appended to selections, there are not a few more pretentious sketches that have been given prominent titles in the body of the books. These have been prepared expressly for this work, either by the editor or by some one fully acquainted with the subject and accustomed to writing for young people. These biographies are written from the point of view of young people, and contain the things that boys and girls like to know about their favorite authors or some of the noble men and women whose lives have made this world a better and a happier place in which to live. In the earlier volumes they are brief, simple, and largely made up of anecdotes; later they are more mature, and show something of the reasons that make the lives interesting and valuable material for studies. There are, also, in the books a few lengthy extracts from some of the world’s great biographies. Care has been exercised in the selection of these, so that in each case, while the extract is of interest to young people, it is also fairly representative of the larger work from which it has been taken.

e. Pronouncing Vocabularies. Children often find difficulty in pronouncing proper names, and not many have at hand any books from which they can obtain the information. At the end of every volume is a list of the important proper names in that book, and after each name the pronunciation is given phonetically, so that no dictionary or other reference work is necessary. Since each volume has its own list, it is not necessary even to lay down the book in hand and take up the last volume.

f. Pictures. The illustrations in the several volumes form one great feature in the general plan. They alone will do much to interest children in the reading, and if attention is called to them they will be found to increase in value. The color plates in each volume, the numerous fine halftones of special design, and the hundreds of pen and ink drawings that illuminate the text have been painted and drawn for these books, and will be found nowhere else. More than twenty artists have given their skill and enthusiasm to make the books brighter, clearer, and more inspiring. The initial letters and the many fine decorations also belong exclusively to the set, and combine to give it esthetic value. Everything of this nature will command attention and hold interest.

g. Tables of Contents. Beginning each volume is a table showing the contents of the volume and the names of authors. It forms a means of ready reference to the larger divisions of the work and is a handy supplement to the index.

h. Index. At the end of the tenth volume is an index to the whole ten volumes. There may be found not only each author and title in alphabetical order, but also a complete classification of the selections in the set. To find the history in this series, look in the index under the title “History.” When a topic has as many sub-divisions as has “Fiction,” for instance, or “Poetry,” cross references are given.

4. The Nursery Rhymes

When a child is taught the little nursery rhymes which to us may seem to be meaningless jingles, he is really peeping into the fields of literature, taking the first steps in those journeys that will end in Shakespeare, Browning and Goethe. When his infantile ear is caught by the lively rhythm and the catchy rhymes, he is receiving his first lessons in poetry. That the lessons are delightful now he shows by his smiles, and in middle life he will appreciate the joy more keenly as he teaches the same little rhymes to his own children.

Most children know the rhymes when they come to school and they will like to read them there. A child’s keenest interest is in the things he knows. Later, perhaps in the high school or the grammar grades, he will be interested again in learning that the rhymes are not wholly frivolous and that there may be reasons why these rhymes should have survived for centuries in practically unchanged forms. Some of the facts that may be brought out at various times are the following:

I. There is a hidden significance in some of the nursery rhymes. For instance:

a. Daffy-Down-Dilly (page 47). In England one of the earliest and most common of spring flowers is the daffodil, a bright yellow, lily-like blossom, with long, narrow green leaves all growing from the bulb. The American child may know them as the big double monstrosities the florist sells in the spring, or he may have some single and prettier ones growing in his garden. The jonquil and the various kinds of narcissus are nearly related white or white and pink flowers. This picture on page 47 of Journeys Through Bookland shows a few daffodils growing. Miss Daffy-Down-Dilly, then, in her yellow petticoat and her green gown, is the pretty flower; and the rhyme so understood brings a breath of spring with it.

b. Humpty Dumpty (page 55). This is really a riddle of the old-fashioned kind. There are many of them in English folk lore. Usually a verse was repeated and then a question asked; as, “Who was Humpty Dumpty?” The artist has answered the question for us in the picture. Possibly many people who learned the rhyme in childhood never thought of Humpty as an egg.

What answer would you give to the question, Who was Taffy (page 54)? For similar riddles, see Nancy Netticoat (Vol. I, p. 72), The Andiron (page 245) and St. Ives (page 202).

II. Some were intended to teach certain facts. For instance:

a. When children were taught the alphabet as the first step to reading, The Apple Pie (page 43) gave the letters in their order, including the obsolete “Ampersand.”

b. As children grew a little older and could begin to read what they already knew, things in which the same words were many times repeated were helpful. Two examples are The House that Jack Built (page 56) and There Is the Key of the Kingdom (page 45).

c. The numbers from one to twenty were taught by One, Two (page 41).

d. The days of the week were taught by Solomon Grundy (page 42), which with its amusing provision for repetition is sure to catch the fancy of a child and keep his thoughts on the words.

III. Some of them teach kindness to animals:

a. Dapple Gray (page 22).

b. Ladybird (page 12). This is sometimes known as ladybug, and the bug is the little, round, reddish beetle whose wings are black dotted. It is a pretty, harmless beetle that gardeners like to see around their plants. Children repeat the rhyme when they find the beetle in the house and always release it to “fly away and save its children.”

c. Poor Robin (page 16).

d. Old Mother Hubbard’s amusing adventures with her dog (page 24) leave a very kindly feeling toward both.

IV. Some are philosophical, or inculcate moral precepts or good habits, in a simple or amusing way.

a. Early to Bed (page 34).

b. Little Bo-Peep (page 9). Is it not better to let cares and worries alone? Why cry about things that are lost?

c. Three Little Kittens (page 13) suggests care for our possessions.

d. There Was a Man (page 60) has the same idea that we often hear expressed in the proverb “A hair from the same dog will cure the wound.”

e. Rainbow in the Morning (page 48) has some real weather wisdom in it.

f. There Was a Jolly Miller (page 47), gives a good lesson in contentment.

g. A Diller, A Dollar (page 59).

h. See a Pin (page 59) suggests in its harmless superstition a good lesson in economy.

i. Little Boy Blue (page 33) makes the lazy boy and the sluggard unpopular.

j. Come, Let’s to Bed (page 34) ridicules sleepiness, slowness and greediness.

V. Mother’s loving care, at morning and evening, when dressing and undressing the baby or when putting the little folks to bed, has prompted several of the rhymes:

a. This Little Pig (page 5) the mother repeats to the baby as she counts his little toes.

b. Pat-a-Cake (page 4) is another night or morning rhyme; and here mother “marks it with” the initial of her baby’s name and puts it in the oven for her baby and herself. Another of similar import is: Up, Little Baby (page 7).

c. Diddle, Diddle, Dumpling (page 7) has kept many a little boy awake till he was safely undressed.

d. What an old rhyme must Bye, Baby Bunting be (page 6)! It goes back to the days when “father went a-hunting, to get a rabbit skin to wrap Baby Bunting in.” Some one, more recently, has added the idea of buying the rabbit skin.

e. The simple little lyric, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star (page 44) has filled many a childish soul with gentle wonder, and many a night-robed lassie has wandered to the window and begged the little stars to keep on lighting the weary traveler in the dark.

VI. Some of the rhymes are pure fun, and even as such are worthy of a place in any person’s memory:

a. There Was an Old Woman (page 36); Great A (page 14); Jack Be Nimble (page 28); To Market, to Market (page 6), and There Was a Monkey (page 14); Goosey-Goosey (page 21); Hey, Diddle, Diddle (page 23); There Was a Rat (page 14), and others, belong to this category.

b. Three Blind Mice (page 12) is an old-fashioned Round. Many a band of little folks has been divided into groups and has sung the nonsensical rhymes until every boy and girl broke down in laughter. Do you poor modern people know how it was done? The school was divided into a half-dozen sections. The first section began to sing and when its members reached the end of the first line, the second section began; the third section began when the second reached the end of the first line, and so on till all sections were singing. When any section reached the word “As—” they began again at the beginning. The first line was chanted in a low, slow monotone, the others were sung as rapidly as possible to a rattling little tune on a high pitch. Imagine the noise, confusion and laughter. Many a dull afternoon in school has been broken up by it, and countless children have returned to their little tasks with new enthusiasm. The old things are not always to be scorned.

c. Old King Cole (page 52) is a jolly rhyme, and the illustration is one of the finest in the books. Everybody should study it.

VII. Two, at least, of the rhymes are of the “counting out” kind. Often children want to determine who is to be “It” in a game of tag, who is to be blinded in a game of hide-and-seek, or who takes the disagreeable part in some other play. They are lined up and one begins to “count out” by repeating a senseless jingle, touching a playmate at each word. The one on whom the last word falls is “out,” safe from the unpleasant task. One at a time they are counted out till only the “It” remains.

Wire, brier and One-ery, Two-ery (page 51) are examples. The artist has shown a group being counted out, in her very lifelike picture on pages 50 and 51.

VIII. There are some errors in grammar in the rhymes, many words you cannot find in a dictionary, and some of the rhymes may seem a little coarse and vulgar; but they have lived so long in their present form that it seems almost a pity to change them. Encourage the older children to find the errors and to criticise and correct as much as they wish. Probably they will not like the rhymes in their new form and correct dress any better than we would.

IX. There is really a practical value, too, in a knowledge of the nursery rhymes. Allusions to them are found in all literature and many a sentence is unintelligible to him who does not recognize the nursery rhyme alluded to. It would be safe, almost, to say that not a day passes in which the daily papers do not contain allusions to some simple little lines dear to our childhood. They are not to be sneered at; they are to be loved in babyhood and childhood, understood in youth, and treasured in middle life and old age.

5. Discussion of Each Volume

Our Journeys Through Bookland contains a wealth of material and a host of studies and helps. It is not an easy matter to get even the plan of it into one’s mind in a few minutes. The object of this volume is to guide the parent, teacher or student and to show as many of the important phases of Journeys as is possible. In other chapters we take up different methods of reading or show ways in which the books can be used to accomplish certain definite purposes, and how to select the material needed for any occasion. By means of cross references to the other books this volume serves as a key to them all.

Volume One. The first sixty pages of this volume are given over to the best known of the old nursery rhymes. That they are old is one of their great merits. That all cultured people know them is proof of their value and interest. The words are old words but the pictures are new. Every one was drawn expressly for Journeys and all show the conception of artists who have not lost the appreciation of childhood. Little children love the rhymes and will learn them and repeat them at sight of the pictures long before they can read. Elsewhere in this volume are suggestions which show how the rhymes may be used profitably.

Journeys does not pretend to teach reading in the sense in which it is understood in the kindergarten and the early primary grades. Rather it begins to be of service as a reader only after the child has been taught how to read for himself. Children in the third grade will read many stories for themselves; from the fourth grade on they are nearly all independent readers. Every teacher knows, however, that children like to listen to stories which it would be utterly impossible for them to read, and that later they best love to read the things which they have heard from the lips of parent or teacher. Therefore, the literature of the first volume forms a treasure house from which the parent may draw many a good story to tell, and where he may find more that will be excellent for him to read aloud. The taste for the best literature is often formed in early childhood. So no child is too young for Journeys and no child is too old. The real things we read over and over with increasing interest as the years go on. Elsewhere in this volume are directions for story-telling, and many especially good selections are named. What the parent shall read aloud is best left to him to determine; at first he will do well not to read aloud any of the comments with which the books are fitted. If he finds that the interest warrants it he can use the comments for himself and ask questions that will lead to thoughtful consideration of what is being read, even by very young children. The only thing necessary is that the reading should be taken seriously and that the parent should be as much interested as the youthful listener.

There are stories and poems, fairy tales and folk lore, biography in simple anecdotes of the great favorites of children and toward the end of the volume a few rather difficult selections for older children. In this volume as in all of them it is hoped that parents will look over the table of contents again and again, select the things that seem best and suit them to the occasion. How beautiful the lullabies are for the babies, and how much the older boys and girls will enjoy them when read at baby’s side! When the children are interested in the whimsical rhymes of Stevenson, his biography should be read; and Eugene Field’s life is interesting when his sweet poems are lending their charm to the evening by the fireside. Some of the fables contain deep lessons that may be absorbed by the older children while the younger ones are interested in the story only.

Volume Two. The selections in the first part of the second volume are intentionally simpler than the last ones in the first volume. It is a good thing for a child to handle books, to learn to find what he wants in a book the greater part of which is too difficult for him. Oliver Wendell Holmes thought it was an excellent thing for himself that he had had the opportunity to “tumble around in a library” when he was a youngster. Every student who has had the opportunity so to indulge himself has felt the same thing. There are so many books published every month and so much reading to be done that a discriminating sense must be cultivated. No one can read it all or even a small part of it. Older people will discriminate by reading what they like. Children must learn to handle books and to find out what they are able to read. To put into their hands all they can read of the simple things they like is not wise. Most children read too much. Fairy stories are all right in their way, but to give a child all the fairy tales he can read is a serious mistake. Hundreds of pretty, inane, senseless stories in attractive bindings with pretty, characterless illustrations tempt the children to vitiate their taste in reading, long before they are able by themselves to read the best literature.

Because they are valuable, there are fairy stories in Journeys; because their use may be abused, there are few of them; because something else should be read with them, they are not all in one volume nor in one place in a volume. The same rule of classification applies to other selections than fairy tales.

This is the volume in which the myths appear in the form of simple tales: three from the northland, two from Greece. Each story is attractive in itself, has some of the interest that surrounds a fairy tale and serves as the fore-shadowing of history. That they are something more than fairy tales is shown in the comments and elementary explanations that accompany them.

Little poems, lullabies, pretty things that children love are dropped into the pages here and there. Children seem to fear poetry after they have been in school a little while, largely because they have so much trouble in reading it aloud under the criticisms of the teacher and because the form has made the meaning a little difficult. It is, however, a great misfortune if a person grows up without an appreciation of poetry when it is so simple a matter to give the young an abiding love for it. A little help now and then, a word of appreciation, a manifestation of pleasure when reading it and almost without effort the child begins to read and love poetry as he does good prose.

The beginnings of nature study appear in the second volume in the form of beautiful selections that encourage a love for birds and other animals, and Tom, The Water Baby, is a delightful story, half fairy tale, half natural history romance.

In this volume also is found The King of the Golden River, perhaps the best fairy story ever written.

Volume Three. A glance at the table of contents in the third volume will show the general nature of the selections. Fairy stories or tales with a highly imaginative basis predominate. There are some that are humorous, as for instance the selections from the writings of Lewis Carroll, and one or two of the poems.

The long selection from The Swiss Family Robinson is a good introduction to nature literature and contains all of the book that is worth reading by anyone. The two tales from The Arabian Nights are among the best in that collection and are perhaps the ones most frequently referred to in general literature and in conversation. The story of Beowulf and Grendel is a prose rendering of the oldest poem in the English language, and valuable for that reason. While it is rather terrifying in some of its details its unreality saves it from harmful possibilities. Parents and teachers are inclined rather to overestimate the unpleasant consequences of reading terrifying things when they are of this character. Few, if any, children will read the story if it displeases them and those who do will not retain the disagreeable impression it makes for any great length of time.

In this volume we begin our acquaintance with the legendary heroes of the great nations. Frithiof, Siegfried, Robin Hood and Roland are all in this book, to be followed by Cid Campeador in Volume IV.

Volume Four. In this volume, with many fine poems and tales interspersed, is found the continuation of the legendary hero stories begun in Volume III, also as a natural sequence, a cycle of history that begins with a story and ends in a narrative of an actual historical occurrence. These may be found in the six selections beginning with The Pine-Tree Shillings. The article on Joan of Arc, the story of Pancratius and the account of Alfred the Great, though not related in any way, yet still serve to carry out the idea that this volume is largely an introduction to readings in history.

The Attack on the Castle is a stirring account of a mediæval battle. It prepares the way to the mediæval spirit made more prominent in the next volume. In The Arickara Indians the boys will begin to find the interest that the aborigines always have for our youth.

Volume Five. The legendary great, the half-historical personages that have been for so many centuries the inspiration of youths of many lands are found again in this volume in the person of the Greek heroes and, at much greater length, in England’s famous King Arthur. The story of his Round Table and its knights is told in an extremely interesting way. The spirit of Sir Thomas Malory is retained in his quaint accounts and Tennyson’s noble poems show how great a factor the legends of Arthur have been in literature. Besides the articles that are instructive there are a few that are highly entertaining or merely humorous, for every child has a right to read sometimes for amusement only. It will be seen that some classes of literature have ceased to appear and that others are coming into view. The “spiral arrangement” is nicely illustrated in the reappearance of history and the legendary heroes and in the disappearance of myths and fairy tales, for which there is, however, some compensation in the highly imaginative Gulliver’s Travels, an extract from Dean Swift.

In this volume are also included a little cycle on one of the great heroes of the Scotch, Robert Bruce. These carry on the series of selections on legendary heroes, begun in Volume Three. These are followed by stories of adventure, of frontier life in the Central West, tales from the early history of our country. Reminiscences of a Pioneer, The Buccaneers, Captain Morgan at Maracaibo, and Braddock’s Defeat are examples of this kind of literature. These selections are authentic accounts from original sources and are among those things which boys really like, but which have not heretofore been accessible to them. Patriotic Poems, somewhat in the same vein, are given where they will be noticed and read.

Volume Six. In this volume the series of legendary and semi-historical selections is completed. It includes the best of the legends concerning the national hero of Persia, also the story of The Tournament from Ivanhoe, inserted here as a fitting introduction to Scott’s novels. There are several examples of nature studies in literature and several fine stories that have their place in the education of everyone. The best of these stories and one of the finest ever written is Rab and His Friend. A cycle of a religious nature is found in those selections which are named The Imitation of Christ, The Destruction of Sennacherib, Ruth, and The Vision of Belshazzar.

The longest and best story in this book is A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. This is a model in construction and furnishes the basis for all the studies that would naturally accompany the most elaborate piece of fiction.

The sixth volume is one of interest and one that will give plenty of opportunity for study to those who have the inclination to follow out the suggestions that accompany the selections. Close study should be upon those things which are already somewhat familiar. The high school student will find his time more profitably spent in working on the things in this volume than in poring over the more difficult masterpieces that are sometimes prescribed in courses of study. What we desire is power to read, understand and appreciate, and that is obtained by study upon those things that interest us and about which we know enough to enable us to use our minds to best advantage.

Volume Seven. On the whole, this is a more mature volume than any that has preceded it and yet there are some selections of a simple character inserted for the purpose of interesting those who cannot yet read very heavy literature. From this point on, however, there is little difference in the grade of the volumes. The way in which the literature is studied marks the difference in rank. In fact, when a person can read intelligently and with appreciation such selections as appear in this volume he can read anything that is set before him. There may be some things that will require effort and perhaps explanation, but it is merely a question of vocabulary and parallel information. Besides the stories, there are selections in every department of literature except those that have been passed in the progress of the plan of grading. The legendary heroes, the myths and the stories of classic literature are no longer to be found. In their place are more selections on nature, more of biography and history and the real literature of inspiration. Some of the last group appear in the form of fine lyrics which everyone loves but which are made more attractive and inspiring by proper setting and helpful interpretations.

In this volume biography, which has had its share of attention in every volume, becomes a strong feature, especially in the fine sketches that are given of famous writers. It is a fact that most writers have lived so quietly and in such comparative seclusion that their lives are devoid of the exciting events that make the liveliest appeal to young people, yet every one has done so much for the world and in such varied ways that there are things in their lives that interest and enthrall the mind if only they are properly presented. Our great American writers have been noble men and women and their lives are models worthy of imitation. That is the thing for us to glory in and for our young people to know, for it is not by any means a universal fact that people who wrote inspiring literature have lived inspiring lives. The literature of nature is probably stronger in this volume than in any other and the selections are of the most absorbing kind. It is not expected to give a vast amount of information but to create a love for reading about the great facts in nature and an appreciation of the beauties in the writings of those who love it. This is the last volume in which there is much fiction and it marks the beginnings of the really fine essays which form a large part of the succeeding volume. The history is of a higher type and includes excerpts from the writings of some of our greatest historians.

Volume Eight. The notable feature of the eighth volume is the selection from the plays of Shakespeare. Nothing is more important in the literary education of a child than his proper introduction to the greatest of our great writers, and this has been accomplished in the following manner. The Tempest was selected as the play, because it is simple and lively in its style, appeals to young people and has in it just enough of the marvelous, the beautiful and the terrible to make a decided impression on one who reads it for the first time. There are other plays that are greater but none that may be taught so easily to juvenile readers. In this volume there is a brief article on the reading of Shakespeare; this is followed by the inimitable tale of The Tempest by Charles and Mary Lamb; this by the play, The Tempest, practically as it was written; and this, in turn, by a long series of interesting studies on the drama. The whole is attractive from start to finish and the studies are certain to lead the reader to think.

The drama, then, is the new feature of the ninth volume, but this is also the volume of fine essays, the highest type of prose. The essays are best represented by the following titles, all of which may be found in the table of contents of the eighth volume: The Alhambra by Irving, A Bed of Nettles by Allen, Dream Children, by Charles Lamb. These titles, too, show how broad is the field covered by the essay and how delightful a variety there may be in the one style of composition. The departments of Travel and Adventure, Patriotism and History have not been neglected. On the whole it is a serious volume, one which will give the high school student and the older members of the family a plentiful supply of good reading material and a suggestion of study for the evenings of many a winter day.

Volume Nine. Most of the selections in this volume are rather difficult reading for young people but there are helps enough to make the task a pleasant one. The series of essays, begun in Volume Eight is here continued, with The Ascent of the Jungfrau by Tyndall, A Dissertation upon Roast Pig and The Praise of Chimney Sweepers by Charles Lamb, and two representative essays by Sir Francis Bacon. The studies are of an advanced nature and if carried out as intended will be of decided service to high school students. In a few cases the selections are simple, like Robert of Lincoln, for instance, but the studies that accompany it are the more complete. It is hoped by such an arrangement to show how inexhaustible a field for study literature offers and how many things there are to be known about the least of our fine lyrics. The Ode on a Grecian Urn is of a different type. This poem makes no direct appeal to sentiment or to the knowledge of the average young person, yet by study it is seen to be a lyric of exquisite beauty. This volume introduces the writings of several authors who have not before appeared because of their slight appeal to young people. Among them may be mentioned particularly Addison, Boswell, and Bacon. The volume contains also orations that should be studied as models, viz: The Gettysburg Address, The Fate of the Indians and The Call to Arms. Each has a series of studies following it. As a relief from the serious work of the volume there are included an extract from Pickwick Papers; that fascinating story, The Gold-Bug; and the delightful essay, Modestine, an extract from Travels with a Donkey, by Stevenson.

Volume Ten. At the end of this volume are given two tables; the first arranges the leading English writers chronologically, and the second follows a similar plan with the American authors. The index with which the book closes is for the entire series and enables the reader to find the selections readily, if he knows either the title or the name of the author; to find all the selections on any given topic; and to find the studies quickly if they are wanted. The index should prove as useful as any of the devices with which the books are filled.

CHAPTER III
Pictures and Their Use

I. What Should We Notice in a Picture?

In his excellent little book, How to Judge of a Picture, Van Dyke speaks of the things that constitute a good painting as follows: “First, it is good in tone, or possess a uniformity of tone that is refreshing to the eye; second, it is good in atmosphere—something you doubtless never thought could be expressed with a paint-brush; third, it is well composed, and a landscape requires composition as well as a figure piece; fourth, ‘values’ are well maintained, its qualities good, its poetic feeling excellent.” A second writer has said that beauty is manifested in four ways: by line, by light and shade, by color and by composition. We will consider these characteristics in order.

a. Line. We define the boundaries of objects and limit space by means of lines, and the use of lines constitutes drawing in pictures. These lines so used may be narrow or broad, straight or curved, perfect or broken, and definite or vague and undetermined. Upon their proper use, however, depends the beauty of proportion, the strength of personality and the impressions of truthfulness and reality. There are few rigid lines in nature. What we see is an impression of line, not sharp lines. If you look at a book you may see the sharp lines that bound its edges but if you move it away a little or put it in shadow its boundaries are a little hazy and gradually you lose the impression of the lines that bound it and see only a book. A tree has no sharp outline except when it stands on a horizon and looks like a silhouette against the light. Ordinarily it is a mass of moving light and shade, of color. The leaves are not separately limited by lines and yet we know that leaves are there. If the artist drew each leaf separately and accurately the general effect would be extremely unnatural and instead of a tree we should see only the minute carefulness of a painter who had failed. Perfect lines, then, are rare in good pictures. The artist does not intend to make exact representations of reality but to convey the appearance of reality, and just in so far as he succeeds in conveying that appearance of reality is he successful. This does not mean that good drawing is not necessary in a picture; it merely tells you what constitutes good drawing. If the lines of the human figure are perfect it is almost certain that the figure will be strained, unnatural and without the appearance of life or motion. In a good picture the lines of good drawing are present but they are broken, subdued and lead into one another as do the lines we see in nature.

b. Light and Shade. It is the distribution of light and shadows in a picture that gives it the appearance of reality. A mere outline drawing is flat and has no semblance of life. The paintings of the ancient Egyptians are good examples of pictures that have no light and shade, and we all know how flat, stiff and unreal they appear. In pen and ink, and charcoal drawings, light is indicated by white and shadow by black, but between the two extremes are introduced various shades and tints of gray that make the variety of tone in shadows. This varying of the strength of shadows is everywhere in nature, though most of us are blind to it. In looking at any object for the purpose of distinguishing the lights and shades upon it we should half close our eyes and look intently at all parts of it. Under an inspection of this sort the building which we thought to be all of even light is seen to be dotted with patches of shadow of different intensity, showing that there are projections where the light from the sun strikes clearly or depressions into which it cannot enter so freely. A picture should give the same effect, and it is this effect, which includes also the distance from the eye as well as the shades from the light source, that we call “values.” If we look at a tree in the way described we see that it is covered with patches of green in light or dark tints and that these color values are the lights and shades of which we are speaking. There will be one point of highest light and an opposing point of deepest shadow, and upon the proper arrangement of these as well as upon the patches of minor importance depends the lifelike appearance of the objects in the picture. Van Dyke says there are three things concerning light and shade that should be looked for in every picture, viz.: that everything, no matter how small it be, has its due proportion of light and shade; that there be one point of compass from which the light comes; that there be a center of light in the picture itself, from which all other lights radiate and decrease until they are lost in the color or shadow.

c. Tone and Color. The first thing that seizes the eye in a painting is color, and the brightest, gayest colors are the ones that are most likely to attract. In fact they are the only colors that the inexperienced may see, for many a person is blind to the subdued tints and shades that are really the most attractive to the trained eye. Good coloring, then, does not mean brightness alone. It is the relationship, the qualities and the suitableness of colors one to another, whether they be in shadow, half-tint or light, that constitute good coloring. Brilliant dresses and inharmonious ornaments strike the refined eye with displeasure, the wearer is “loud” in her dress. Subdued colors relieved here and there with a harmonious dash of brightness show correct taste. So in pictures those that have the low or deep tones, that are rich and harmonious, are the ones that are most appreciated by the experts, and are the ones usually found to have been painted by the masters. Nevertheless if high color combines richness and harmony it shows a fine skill. Tone has to do with the quantity of color used in the painting, and harmony with the qualities of colors. Tone and harmony must combine to make perfect coloring.

d. Composition. If we study any great poem, drama or novel, one that is constructed with a due regard for unity, we find there is one central character or idea and that all other persons, all incidents, scenes and all the little devices that go to give reality to the conception are subordinated to the central person or idea. Unless this is done the creation lacks unity and therefore lacks force, beauty and coherence. The same facts hold true of a picture. Every good picture is so arranged and drawn that the important idea is centralized and the parts are unified and harmonized until the whole is single in its effect. This is accomplished by what is called in the language of the painter, “composition.” Important things are recognized and lesser things subordinated to give beauty, clearness and brilliancy to the central idea. While these facts are most obvious in pictures that contain figures, it is no less true in landscapes or other pictures which contain no figures. For instance, a moonlight scene on the Hudson would have as its central idea the beauty of the light on the water and the mountains. To secure this the artist would keep down the lines of the mountains, subordinate the details in the foreground and place as the central idea in the picture the pale shimmering light from the moon whether that body be itself visible or not. Oftentimes in looking at a picture it is difficult to tell wherein its excellent composition lies, but the absence of strength and unity is unerringly felt.

e. Atmosphere and Perspective. We are all familiar with the diminished size of objects seen at a distance and realize that the apparent coming together of two parallel lines, as those of a railway track, is owing to the same cause. We know, too, that this diminishing must be shown in a picture or there is no sense of distance for the spectator. What is not so clear to us usually, is that there is as great a difference in color and the appearance of objects. The diminution of size is linear perspective and the change of color due to distance and atmospheric conditions is commonly called aerial perspective. The tendency among amateurs is to paint a tree green no matter how far away from the spectator it is, while a little observation and study would show the veriest tyro that the green of a distant tree has faded till to the eye it looks a bluish gray. Moreover, outlines have faded and seem to flow into those of other objects, and all combine to give to the picture the true appearance of distance, which is what the artist seeks and the one who looks at the picture has a right to expect.

f. An Application of the Foregoing Principles. What has been said on this subject of judging a picture may be made clearer by an application to one of the pictures in Journeys. Let us take, for instance, the color plate facing page 304, in Volume VI. It is a reproduction in color of the painting in water colors, Bob and Tiny Tim, and will show what is meant by the comments above almost as well as the original painting would have done.

1. Tone and color. Are the colors in the picture bright and gay or are they subdued? What are the brightest colors? Are the colors harmonious or do they “quarrel” as they come to the eye?

Are the shades of blue and purple and lighter colors in the clothing of the various persons glaring or subdued? Do you observe any inharmony which offends the eye, or are you pleased with contrasting colors and tones? The harmony in color is due to the choice of colors that do not contrast too strongly. The artist knew which were complementary colors; that is, which, united, form white. Which colors in the picture do you think show warmth, and which show cold, as suitable to out-of-door scenes? What effect on the rest of the picture does the olive green of the interior of the room have? What effect does the gray green of the open door have?

2. Light and Shade. Is the picture flat and without appearance of life, or do the persons and objects stand out in a life-like manner? Are parts of the picture in shade, so that outlines are lost? The artist has shown the left of the building in the foreground as in shadow; how is this effect produced? Do you observe gradations of tone in the shawl on Tiny Tim, which indicate relative light and shadow? Where is the highest light in the picture, and where the darkest shadow? Are the lights strong as if the sun were shining, or soft and diffused, as is noticeable on a snowy winter’s day?

3. Line. Although you cannot see Bob’s feet in the picture, do you feel that his body is well supported? Is his position natural, as of one carrying a burden on one shoulder? Are the lines of the figures in the foreground clear and distinct? How do they compare with the lines of the figures and building across the street? In both cases the artist gives us all that is necessary to convey the impression of reality. In the use of oils and water colors, sharp lines are avoided. Colors are used so that different surfaces and effects flow into one another; the lines are concealed and we have the very counterfeit of reality. This constitutes good drawing.

4. Composition. What is the central idea of the picture? The artist has brought the principal figures into the immediate foreground; do the arrangement of color, contrasts of tone values, and the smaller figures in the background give life and significance to the figures of Bob and Tiny Tim? Would the effectiveness of the picture be greater or less if the artist had failed to show the snowy outdoor scene, with its holiday spirit? Do you recall the incident in the story portrayed by the picture? Are the characteristics of Bob and Tiny Tim, as described by Dickens, faithfully followed by the artist? Do their faces show the spirit of Christmas? If you had not read the story, would you not feel a glow of sympathy for the little boy, and a wish that you could join in making a happy holiday for him? Has not the artist succeeded in bringing the scene described by the author more vividly and beautifully to us?

5. Atmosphere and Perspective. How far from the figures of Bob and the little boy are the people on the sidewalk? How does the artist express the idea of relative distance? Are there any lines in the picture which help us to determine distance? If the eye follows the lines of the cross pieces on the door, will they not come together if extended far enough to the left? Of course the buildings across the street are not very far away, but their outlines are a little hazy. Does this haziness help to give the effect of distance? Do you think the door was really a gray-green? Has the artist used this tone to show the effect of the outdoor light on a gray, or possibly a white door? The building across the street, at the left, has yellow and red and purple tones; do you think these were the actual colors? If not, why has the artist selected these particular shades? Do parts of buildings or other objects in shadow take on different shades from parts in bright lights? What colors appear most frequently in the picture? Has the artist succeeded in giving the picture the atmosphere of Dickens’s story?

II. Pictures and Their Value in Literature

Pictures are in themselves a language—the oldest as well as the most universal tongue of the world. The primitive man of all races resorted to a picture-writing in his first efforts to transcribe his thoughts and emotions into a more lasting form than the oral expression. Our earliest authentic history of the customs, beliefs and life of the ancient Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Chinese and even our own American Indians comes to us from the pictured records they left on stone, wood or clay.

In the present age, what child does not yield to the magic rhythm and the compelling lilt of the old nursery rhymes! With what added joy does he discover that there are pictures for these treasured jingles! And long before the printed words can be recognized he enters the alluring world of books by “reading” the illustrations. With glowing eyes on the picture he repeats the rhyme he had learned from its many demanded repetitions.

By giving him simple, clear, realistic conceptions through pictures, we influence the child to read eagerly the text, to discover the whole story, of which such a fascinating hint is given in the portion illustrated. These first pictures must satisfy the child’s love of action and movement, and portray only the most dramatic scenes, the big important facts with all superfluous happenings omitted.

In fables, where the primary purpose is to convey an abstract truth, a something bigger and broader than the mere interesting events described, the illustrations add much to the meaning and purpose of the text. Here the artist shows not only the physical attributes of the real animal, but in a subtle way goes a step further and through the features or the attitude suggests the characteristics attributed in the fable. Thus unconsciously the little reader gets from the picture an increased conception of the sly, clever, crafty ways of the fox or the slow, plodding, steadfast patience of the tortoise.

As literature develops from the simple nursery rhyme and the brief, abrupt fable to the fairy tale with its illusive beauty, so the pictures should advance in a parallel and a closely related manner. The illustrations now take on a mysterious, unreal, esthetic quality, in harmony with the world of fairy lore, and train the imagination as much as the direct words of the author. The child realizes that the forest scenes which furnish the background for so many of his favorite fairy tales have a subtle beauty which has never been seen by him. Gradually through such pictures he is led to seek an ideal beauty in the real world. He also becomes able not only to appreciate the poetic rendering of this expression of the ideal but is capable of forming more varied mental images of things about which he reads; to put more of his own individuality, his own conceptions, into his mental picture.

The passing ages have so completely revolutionized the customs and ways of life that the child of today finds comparatively little in his familiar surroundings which he can link with the world of history and legend. Literature should be supplemented by pictures to bridge this chasm and to bring legendary and historical heroes into the child’s own world and enable him to follow their thoughts, interpret their emotions and appreciate their actions.

The child who sees a picture of court life where the cavalier is attired in richly colored velvet, silk, lace, and jewels, and surrounded by the luxuries of the court, and compares it with another of the same period which portrays a Puritan in his somber-hued, severe suit, stiff linen collar and cuffs, broad-brimmed, plain hat and not a single jewel or ornament used for mere decorative or esthetic value, realizes the vast difference in the types and character of the two men. He is furnished with an appropriate mental atmosphere in which to follow their history and in which to comprehend the inevitable clash that came between the Cavaliers and the Roundheads. He will then eagerly and sympathetically follow the Pilgrims in their lonely stay in Holland and in their brave struggle in the new country. Here, again, the various pictures portray a land and climate as vigorous, uncompromising and stern as the characters of the Pilgrims themselves. Then the great forests, the felling of the trees, the erection of the log houses and forts, the meeting of Puritans with the neighboring Indians, with their curious costumes, homes, customs and occupations, introduce other phases of life that put the child in a receptive mood for the reading of colonial history, Indian legends and stories of pioneer life.

Familiarity with the author’s portrait, with pictures of his home or his favorite scenes, brings a something of the writer’s personality to the child. He feels the story is told more directly to him. A sympathetic bond is established that leads him to a more intimate and a more intelligent acquaintance with the author’s emotions, thoughts, style and purposes as expressed in his works. He reads Thoreau’s Journal, and notes uncomprehendingly, the potent sway of nature over the heart and life of the man. It requires the keen vision and the genius of the artist to give him a realization of the mesmeric influence nature frequently exerts.

If this author’s portrait is the work of a great artist it will perform a double service. For example, the reproduction of the Aesop of Velasquez not only gives the child an idea of the appearance of that creator of the wonderful fables, but it also introduces the great Spanish artist who has depicted marvelous interpretations of life on canvas and has so wonderfully influenced the style and method of the work of many of the artists who succeeded him.

The world of literature is filled with poems and stories which emphasize abstract truths, teach needed lessons or give universal principles of beauty. Many of these have been the subject and the inspiration of pictures. And, in the re-telling of the poem or story with brush or pen, the artists have added a something of their own individuality and character which serves not only to emphasize and perpetuate themselves through their pictured translation of these noble thoughts, but also makes the principles inculcated by the author become a part of the child’s moral creed.

All have long realized the value of pictures in connection with stories involving scientific knowledge, but the co-operation of the artist with the author in presenting literature to children is of equal importance. The picture arrests the interest of the child and wins his love for books long before he can read; it arouses his desire to master the meaning of the printed forms, that he may discover the story for himself; it gives him facts regarding unfamiliar things without which knowledge the printed symbol means little; it leads him to the discovery of unseen beauties in his environment; it develops his imagination; it arouses his creative faculties; it aids him to grasp the deepest, highest meaning of the world’s literature; it opens up the undreamed beauties of the vast world of art; it interprets abstract thoughts until they become a part of his character, and CHARACTER is the true end of all READING and of all EDUCATION.

III. On the Use of the Pictures in “Journeys”

Children love pictures, and they love to make them. We of riper years are inclined to forget how very strong was our pictorial instinct when we were young. A little girl may make on a sheet of paper a few irregular lines not very well connected, wholly meaningless to us, and see in them very plainly every lineament of her favorite doll. She sees no lines, no paper, only her own precious doll. A little later she will draw pictures to illustrate a story, and while we may see nothing in her work, she sees enough to make the story more real, and is in this way preparing herself to read more intelligently and with greater appreciation as she grows older. We should not laugh at these crude drawings, nor try to make them better. They express her ideas in her way, and that is enough. On the other hand, we should encourage her to try other pictures for other stories till she learns herself to distrust her drawings, or finds a way to express herself so that others may understand what she thinks and feels.

Pictures mean something, always. In the first place they show to him who can read them what some one else has thought and felt. If they are meant to illustrate something in literature, they may fail because the artist has not caught the spirit of what he is trying to depict, or because he lacks in execution. On our side, they may fail because we cannot interpret his work, either from lack of understanding or from the dullness of our sensibilities. Again, we may object to the artist’s interpretation of the literature, and his pictures may merely excite our opposition. Usually, however, we see through the artist’s eyes from a new point of view, so that, even if we do not altogether approve what we see, we are led to question and find for ourselves something new, pleasing and helpful.

Children are harsh critics, not only of pictures but of literature itself, and the critical spirit is a good one to cultivate, if it is not allowed to fall into captious fault-finding. On the whole, however, it is far better to point out the good things in a picture than to call attention to poor execution or poor conception. Leave criticism generally to those infrequent cases in which the artist has actually blundered because he has not read the selection closely or accurately, or has been careless in the things he ought to know. For instance, it would be absurd to show King Arthur in a modern dress suit, or to put fire-arms in the hands of the Indians who met Columbus for the first time. But such faults occur infrequently. Usually the pictures are careful studies, and give many a hint on costuming, manners and customs, as well as on the proper surroundings of the characters.

Some selections are so universal in their nature, so freely applicable to all times and places, that the artist may be allowed to delineate any people, anywhere, at any time. Nursery rhymes, so often alluded to, lend themselves to an endless variety of imaginary people and places. The old woman might be living still in her shoe and whipping her children soundly, in a twentieth-century wrapper, or clothed in skins she might send them supperless to bed in pre-historic ages. Whether Jack and Jill wore wooden shoes or patent-leather pumps we shall never really know; perhaps their little feet were encased in moccasins, or they may have been bare and ornamented with rings: what we do know is that Jack broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after.

So we will give the artists all the latitude they wish, as long as they keep the facts straight, and we will try to help the children to see what the artist saw, and so get clearer visions for themselves.

The pictures in these books are from many artists, all of whom have given an interpretation of the selection they were working upon, and have given it in such a way as to be helpful and inspiring to their youthful readers. Every time the artists have tried to get a child’s view of things and to draw so that a child will like their work. Their enthusiasm has been boundless, and their execution remarkably good. Some of their pictures are gay, some are grave, a few sad; some are highly imaginative and others very realistic. Not a few are wonderfully beautiful. Among so many designs, so many kinds, everyone will find something to admire.

Among the many, let us take a few for a brief study to show that they may be used with children to make literature clear, to give interest and keener appreciation.

The very first picture in Volume One (sub-title, Nursery Rhymes, page 1) is frankly intended as an introduction to the rhymes which follow, and is also a good illustration of many of the principles stated in this chapter.

The little boy is fond of his playthings and especially of his toy cat, but you see he is giving his chief thought just now to the rhymes and jingles which his mother is repeating, while the baby is absorbed and happy in looking at the pictures. Do you see the sewing-basket with the knitting which the mother has laid aside while she devotes an hour to play? Do the other books on the table suggest that she sets a value on good reading as an important element in the training of children even as young as these in the picture? The idea is carried out further in the decorations of the draperies around the window. You see there in simple outline characters which appear in fuller detail with the rhymes which follow in this volume. The color tones are subdued and restful, not loud and glaring, but they are so happily blended, or contrasted, that both persons and objects are clear and distinct. It tells without words the story of happy childhood.

Jack and the Beanstalk (Volume One, page 159) is a picture which will repay study. A child’s imagination reaches out more or less vaguely, though often to his satisfaction, for a visualization of the exaggerations of nature which appear in almost all fables and fairy tales. Our artist has given this subject a realistic touch, which makes Jack’s adventure seem almost possible.

Does the beanstalk look natural? Does it look like the beanstalk which grows in your garden? Are the bean pods like those you have seen? Is the color natural? Does the stalk look strong enough to bear Jack’s weight? How high up do you think he must go to reach the giant’s home? How is the impression of height given? Do you see the landscape stretching away in the distance? Do the fields and the stream look far away? Do you think Jack became frightened or dizzy as he went on—up and up? Doesn’t the picture help you to understand his courage and determination to carry out his purpose?

Nurse helps me when I embark (Volume One page 127) is a fine picture for study. Ask questions like the following: What toys do you see in the picture? Do boys like toys which suggest adventure? Do you think he likes his small boat? Why? Did it suggest to his mind that he would call his bed a boat, and sail away in it to dreamland? Is he saying his prayer? Will the small candle give light enough? Why does it smoke? What kind of a bed is it? What is the canopy over the bed made of? Interesting questions may be asked about the poem: What is a prudent sailor? What do prudent sailors have to take on board? What is a pier? What is the pier beside which the boy finds his vessel fast?

On page 262 of Volume One is printed Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, Eugene Field’s musical lyric for little ones. The attractive picture may be looked at before the poem is read. Questions help the children more than explanations and comments, particularly where they are logically asked. The natural order is to ask about the prominent things first, and then about minor details, thus: How many children are there? Where are they? What does their boat look like? What is the child nearest the toe of the shoes doing? Where are the other two standing? What have they in their hands? What are they doing with the net? Are they catching any fish? Where is the moon? What can you see in the moon? Is the face laughing? Now let us read the poem, and when we have done so, let us see what lines in particular the artist was thinking about. Who are the three children? “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.” What did they do? “Sailed off in a wooden shoe ... into a sea of dew.” What did the moon say? “‘Where are you going and what do you wish?’” What did the children answer? “‘We have come to fish for the herring fish.’” What kind of nets have they? “Nets of silver and gold.” What did the old moon do? “The old moon laughed and sang a song.” What were the herring fish? “The herring fish were the little stars.” How long did they fish? “All night long their nets they threw.” Where did they throw their nets? “To the stars in the twinkling foam.” * * * * Were there really three little children? No. How many were there? Only one. Who, then, were Wynken and Blynken? The little child’s eyes. And who was Nod? His head. What was the wooden shoe that sailed the skies? Only a trundle-bed. What then was all this story about fishing from a wooden shoe for herring fish with nets of silver and gold? Only a wee one’s dream. How can you see the “wonderful sights that be”? By shutting our eyes while mother sings. Don’t you suppose the artist shut her eyes when she thought of the picture, and perhaps dreamed of the time when she lay in her little bed and her mother sang of the wonderful sights that be? Wasn’t that just why she made such a beautiful picture, and thought even of putting wings to the shoe, so it could sail through the sky? After such a talk as that with a little child, do you not think, dear parent, that he would come nearer to you, and while you read the poem softly and smoothly to him he would learn to like its music, and through its refining influence learn to love you a little better? When he has grown to manhood, do you not think there will come times when his heart will be touched, when he will long for the loving arms around him and the sweet mother voice to sing once more of the wonderful sights that be? There are holier things to be done for children than to feed and clothe them.

In Volume Two, on page 121 may be found the picture Shuffle-Shoon and Amber Locks. How many persons are shown in the picture? How is the old man dressed? In what is he sitting? How is the boy dressed? Where is he sitting? Can you sit comfortably that way? What does he hold in his left hand? What is the little boy doing? How many blocks are there in his building? How many blocks are on the floor? What is the old man placing on top of the blocks? What is on the wall back of the chair? Of what is the curtain made? Which is Shuffle-Shoon? Why is he called Shuffle-Shoon? Why is the boy called Amber-Locks? What is the color of amber? Do you think the old man has a kind face? How old do you suppose he is? How old is Amber-Locks? Do you like his face?

From Volume Two, page 264, Tom and The Dragon Fly: What is the first thing you notice when you look at this picture? What is the second thing? Where is Tom standing? Where is the dragon-fly? How many wings has it? How many legs can you see on the dragon-fly? Does Tom’s hair look as though he had just come from the water? What is he looking at? Does he seem to be afraid, or happy? Can you tell where the surface of the water is? Is any part of Tom in the water? Can you see sky or clouds in the picture? Does any land show?

From Volume Two, page 69, The Swallow and the Stork Came: After a picture has been examined, as has been explained, it is sometimes a good thing to study the way in which the artist has produced his effects. The effects in this picture are remarkably fine and Mr. Rudeen has accomplished his purposes very skilfully. What effect is given by the mass of white in the center of the picture? Does it help to give emphasis to the principal figures? Does the artist use his colors in proper tones and shadings? Does he succeed in making the birds seem really to fly? Do you see the face in the fir tree? How are the eyes indicated? Are the lines and patches that make the face any different from those that indicate other leaves on the tree? Why then does it look like a face? Does the face have an expression of surprise? If the branches and leaves on the left side of the tree were curved downward instead of upward, would the expression be changed? Is there any indication of feathers on the swallows? How are feathers indicated on the stork? The artist drew the original of this picture with pen and black ink. The engraver made one plate for this drawing in black, then another plate for those portions of the picture which have any shade or tone of orange, and still another for the blue tones. The green is produced by printing from the orange and the blue inks over the same surface. Facing page 82, Volume Two is the portrait of Hans Christian Andersen. This was taken from a photograph, and under a microscope it can be seen that the ink is put on in fine dots. The border was drawn with pen and ink. The original photograph of Andersen was photographed through a screen and reduced to the size you see it. The pictures in the book are printed from the metal plates which put the ink on the paper in little dots. These prints are called halftones: the pen and ink drawings in the texts are called zinc etchings. The original of the colored frontispiece of the same volume was a water-color painting by Mr. Henderson. This was reduced in size by photography and four plates were made, one showing all the black, and another all the red, a third all the blue and a fourth all the yellow in the original. Then the paper was run through the press four times, each time with the color of ink for which each plate was etched. By printing one color over another this way, the different shades were made. No better way is known for reproducing colored pictures. The border was drawn with pen and ink. The title page was drawn with pen and ink and a zinc etching made by photographic process, from which an electrotype plate was made. The end sheets are decorated by a zinc etching reduced from a large drawing made by Mr. Mitchell. The title and ornaments on the back of the books are made from strong brass dies that were engraved from drawings made by special artists. Gold leaf is laid over the section to be lettered and the dies are pressed upon it with such force as to fasten the gold upon the cover. Then the parts of the gold leaf that have not been pressed into the cover are brushed away and the design is perfect.

To learn what a picture really contains, to appreciate its purpose and merit, we should study it systematically. The following topics suggest themselves:

1. 1. The general view.
2. 2. The details.
3. 3. The center of interest.
4. 4. The purpose.
5. 5. The artists’ conception and its appropriateness.
6. 6. Elements of beauty.

As in other cases, the best way to explain a method is to apply it. Accordingly, let us study by this method the picture Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow, on page 46 of Volume One.

1. The general view. Here is a picture of a man wheeling his wife through a London street, and the breaking down of his wheelbarrow.

2. The details. The man, and his wife sitting in the wheelbarrow; the cobbled street, the sidewalk, the houses on one side of the street, the arch-way with the house above it, and the street showing through the arch-way; the man in the distance. A shop in the middle ground, with fruit and vegetables displayed outside the window. The man with the wheelbarrow is dressed in the fashion of the past, with tall hat, blue cut-a-way long-tailed coat, black breeches and blue stockings, white vest and white gloves. His neckerchief and shoes are orange color. His wife is also fashionably gowned. Her bonnet has blue and orange feathers, she has an embroidered shawl of orange color, with a blue overdress and a gray skirt; her blue parasol is in the air, dropped in the shock of the breaking of the wheelbarrow. Her arms are extended in effort to save herself. The wheel is bent under the barrow.

3. The center of interest. The center of interest of most pictures is found near the center of the picture. It is plainly so in this picture; the man with the wheelbarrow, and his bride engage our attention, while secondarily we note the rough cobbled pavement and the narrow street.

4. The purpose. The artist’s intention is to show the dramatic moment when the wheelbarrow broke, and the bride got the fall.

5. The artist’s conception and its appropriateness. In choosing the line “Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow,” the artist selected the moment which was the climax of the adventure, and in so doing he shows the shock of surprise and alarm in the attitude and expression of both bride and groom as contrasted with their very fine holiday costumes, which show how much care they had given to their preparation for their wedding journey. The artist has not overlooked the opportunity to show us a typical London street of the olden time, narrow and paved with cobble stones. The arch-way gives us the assurance that the street was very narrow, so that the wheelbarrow had to go over the rough cobbles. The conception seems appropriate and true to the story in the simple rhyme.

6. Elements of beauty. There are two main elements in this picture, which contribute to the pleasure it gives us, aside from the story it tells. In the composition of the picture, the artist has placed the main figures in the foreground and drawn them in full detail. Note the contrast of the masses of black with the open spaces of white and light shadings. The walls of the houses are indicated by few lines which are sufficient but which do not draw the eye from the center. The rough street is skillfully indicated by a few deftly drawn round cobbles, leaving the larger white space to give air and light to the central figures. The treatment of color is the second element of beauty to be noticed. Not all the picture is colored; in this class of illustration, the white spaces have the effect of giving background to the colors, and bringing out their best values.

Another profitable study can be made on the full-page illustration that appears on page 159, in Volume Five. Questions best induce interest in a picture, but the questions should be asked systematically. The following is a model on the picture named above, Geraint hears Enid singing.

1. General view. How many men are in the picture? What do they appear to be doing? What is the building at the right?

2. Details. Who is the man on horse-back? How is he dressed? What is hanging from a chain on his breast? What is he looking at? What is the expression on his face? What is the color of his horse? Have you ever seen a bridle and a harness like these in the picture? Do you think the man loved his horse and took good care of him? Who is the man standing beside the horse? How would you describe his garments? What has he in his right hand? What is its use, and what does it signify? What does the gesture with his left hand indicate? What do you think of the building on the right? Is it new or old? What seems to be growing on the walls? What does this mean? What seems to be growing up between the stones of the pavement?

3. The center of interest. Are the men talking together? If so, why are they not looking at each other? Does the attitude and expression of the man on the horse suggest an interesting topic? (Tell the story in part, and read the lines covering this episode, page 156. Is the center of interest now made clear?)

4. Purpose. What did the artist mean to do by means of this picture? Did he select an important and interesting event in the story?

5. Conception and appropriateness. Has the artist followed the text truthfully in his conception? Do you think there is a dramatic interest in this scene, which made it appropriate for illustration? Would it have been as effective without the old man in the picture? Why? Does the man on the horse show his character in his bearing? Has the artist succeeded in portraying the old man in the character described in the text? Does the picture please you? Do you think it is a success?

6. Elements of beauty. Do you like the soft, even tones of the picture, the heavy touches of the pen in the main figures and the light touches in the background? Is the day bright or gloomy? Is the effect of light on the wall, balcony and doorway pleasing? From what direction does the light come? How does the artist indicate surfaces in shadow? Does the outline of the castle through the arch add interest and beauty to the picture?

After the children have been taught to observe properly, you have in the pictures numberless interesting subjects for language exercises. A good, clear-cut description of a picture is worth reading, and to write one means thought and study. The exercise may be varied by asking the child to describe the picture before he has any knowledge of the subject and then asking him to call his imagination into play and write a story to fit the picture. Later you may read him the story the artist meant to illustrate.

Besides the color plates and halftones which are found in their proper places in the several volumes, the following pen and ink drawings are good examples of the kind of pictures that best repay study:

CHAPTER IV
Telling Stories

Before a child can read he develops a passion for stories, and nothing delights him more than an interesting tale from the loving lips of father or mother. In good kindergartens and primary schools, there are teachers who tell stories to the little ones and do it well, but parents will not wish to delegate it entirely to teachers, for story-telling is the best way of getting at the hearts of children and planting those germs which later grow into refined taste in reading as well as ripen into real character. On the other hand, the teachers may neglect to tell stories to their pupils or are not skilled either in selection or in manner of telling. Parents who are interested in the welfare of their small boys and girls will wish to know what is being done and how it is accomplished, but may have little idea of the material it is wise to use or where to find good subjects for their tales.

Proper selection is highly important, for taste and appetite for certain kinds of literature may be created long before the child can read for himself. Strong-minded, courageous little boys will love to hear of giants and ogres, and will revel in adventures that may terrify their more delicate sisters. George hates the fierce foes that Jack the Giant-Killer meets, and dreams of the time when he can overpower and slay his own ogres. Alice listens tremblingly, and when she goes to her little bed at night lies in fear and trembling, while hideous faces leer at her from out the shadowed recesses. George never wearies of our oldest poem, Beowulf, while Alice wants only Cinderella, or at most Bluebeard. It is nothing less than cruelty to fill the imaginations of sensitive children with deeds of violence and tales of sadness and woe. Yet it is no less true that some young folks are the better for their giants, their knights and their battles. On the whole, it is wiser to keep the giants, the ogres and the suffering people in the background, or to dwell upon them only when there seems a demand for them; later, lead the young imaginations into the realms of history and real life where giants are very real and ogres yet remain to be subdued. Do not tell sad or exciting stories in the evening. Keep the quiet, peaceful things for bed-time stories.

Here, then, is the great opportunity for the parent. The teacher has thirty or more children of as many different temperaments from homes as varied in culture as the children are different in appearance, and to them she must tell her story as to one. The parent has but his own little flock, whom he has known every day of their lives, and whose souls are as transparent as glass to his watchful and sympathetic eye. How certain may he feel in his selection of material, how powerful in his recital!

Perhaps, however, he may find the pleasant task an unaccustomed one, may have forgotten what he knew as a boy, and may not know where to turn for material. Here these books come to his assistance with material for every taste and suited to every occasion. In the beginning of the first volume are the nursery rhymes which children have enjoyed for ages, which are read, or far better told, to infants who rejoice in the pictures. Between the nursery rhymes and the literature that follows is quite a gap, intentionally left by the editor. There are no pretty little tales in words of one syllable for beginners to read, but there are good fables and stories to be told while the children are learning to read, and later, to be read by the young people themselves. No parent can go astray in selection if he knows his own children.

Do not be afraid to tell the story—reading it aloud will not be half so effective. Select a fable or a short story first. Read it carefully, and then shut the book and think about it. Be sure you have the plot in your mind, make the hero and the other characters seem very real to yourself, picture the scenes vividly in your mind’s eye, and you are ready to begin.

1. Use Your Own Words. Simple words, graphic, commonplace words, are the best. The older children will be just as much entertained, and the younger ones can understand better. On the other hand, do not talk down to their level; they will resent the idea and laugh at you. Keep on their level. That means that you must be sure you know your audience before you begin to talk.

2. Talk Naturally. Forget that you are telling a story for the effect it will produce. Forget yourself. Tell the story as you would tell them an incident you have just seen.

3. Look Your Children in the Eyes. Find the responsive eyes and get your inspiration from them; seek out the dull and uninterested eyes and talk to them till they brighten up and respond to your enthusiasm. Let every child know that many times you have looked him square in the face and make everyone feel you are talking straight at him.

4. Supply Many Details. Children love them; their lives are made up of little things. Don’t think you are ignoring the real story by your additions. The details you give are probably the very ones the author of the original story intended you to supply from your own imagination as you read. Under this head comes the giving of names to characters; descriptions of clothes, of facts, of feelings; the addition of new incidents.

The recital of a bare plot is not an interesting story. For instance: “A boy on his way to school found a yellowbird’s nest with four little birds in it,” is the recitation of a bare plot. Is it interesting? Would the story appeal to children? What do you think of the form following?

“John told me an interesting story this morning. As he was coming to school today he saw a little yellowbird fly from the bushes by the big tree at the corner of Mr. Brown’s yard. He parted the leaves and looked into the bush, but for quite a while he could see nothing. At last, however, he spied a pretty little nest in the fork of a limb and so low that he could look right down into it. John must have made some noise, because when he looked in he saw four little, wide-open red mouths, and that was about all. Of course, there were little half-naked bodies under the gaping mouths, but he couldn’t see them, for each little bird was shaking his head about, stretching it up higher and higher and opening his mouth wider and wider. You see, to each little bird a rustling sound meant that the mother bird had come back with a bit of tasty breakfast in her mouth. When the wee babies found that they had made a mistake they closed their mouths, drew down their heads and packed themselves away so tightly that I’m sure they can’t be cold while their mother is away.”

5. Be Intimate and Personal with Your Audience. Express your opinion now and then as your own; interrupt the story occasionally (not often enough to spoil the interest) by asking for the ideas of the children. Let them guess, sometimes, at the outcome of the story. Make them feel that they are an important part of the exercise. Sometimes they will help you wonderfully.

6. Use Direct Discourse Wherever Possible. Make your characters speak in their own words. Say, “John said, ‘I saw the nest,’” rather than, “John said that he saw the nest.”

7. Keep the Climax Out of Sight as Long as Possible. Curiosity is a large factor in interest, and if the children know “how the story is coming out” you are liable to lose their attention. However, you will find that some stories will prove such favorites to young children that they will call for the tales again and again. Occasionally small children are very particular about the way in which a story is repeated—there must be no deviations from the way in which it was first told. You may congratulate yourself on having told the story well, if the children ask for its repetition; and if they criticise your second telling you may know you did very well in your first attempt.

8. Be Enthusiastic; Be Dramatic. Throw yourself into the tale; see what you are describing; feel what your characters feel, and enjoy the story itself. Speak distinctly; use clear, sympathetic tones; speak slowly or rapidly as the action demands, and use pauses effectively. Don’t be in a hurry. See that your face expresses your feelings, that your attitudes are easy and your gestures appropriate and graceful. Act your part.

9. Do not Preach. Tell the story so the moral, if there is any, may be seen and felt without your striving to point it out.

10. Talk the Story Over Freely with Your Children. Try to get their ideas, rather than to give your own. You can tell whether you have succeeded and what your faults in narration have been.

The Fairies of the Caldon-Low

The difference between poetry and prose may be shown in rather a startling manner with such a selection as The Fairies of the Caldon-Low (Volume II, page 395). Children like Mary Howitt’s little narrative, but what does it really say? Let us put it in plain prose and see!

“Where have you been, Mary?”

“I’ve been to the top of Caldon-Low to see the midsummer night.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw the sunshine come down and the winds blow.”

“What did you hear?”

“I heard the water-drops made and the ears of corn fill.”

“Tell me everything, Mary, for you must have seen the fairies.”

“Then take me on your knee, mother, and listen. Last night a hundred fairies danced on lively feet to the merry music of nine harpers, but the merriest thing was the sound of the fairy talk.”

“What did you hear them say?”

“I’ll tell you, but let me do it in my own way. Some rolled water down the hill and said, ‘this will turn the poor old miller’s wheel, and a busy man he will be by morning. There has been no rain since the first of May, and how the jolly old miller will laugh till the tears fill his eyes when he sees the water rise in the milldam.’ And some seized the winds and put horns to their mouths and blew sharply. ‘And there!’ said they shrilly, ‘the merry winds go from every horn to clear the damp mildew from the blind old widow’s corn. Though she has been blind for a long time she’ll be merry enough when the corn stands up stiff and strong without any mildew!’ Then some brought flax seed and flung it down, saying, ‘by sunrise this will be growing in the weaver’s field, and how the poor lame fellow will laugh when he sees his vacant field filled with blue flax flowers in a single day.’ Then a brownie with a long beard spoke, ‘I have spun all the tow and I want more. I have spun a linen sheet for Mary’s bed and an apron for her mother.’ I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and then I was alone. On the top of Caldon-Low, the mists were cold and gray and I could see nothing but mossy stones lying about me. But as I came down I heard the jolly miller laughing and his wheel going merrily. I peeped into the widow’s cornfield and, sure enough, the golden corn was free from mildew, and at the gate of the croft stood the weaver, whose eye told the good news about his flax field. Now that’s all I heard and all I saw, so please make my bed, mother, for I’m as tired as I can be.”

Rather a pretty story, even in plain prose, is it not? It is re-written just about as it would be told to a little child for the first time, a child interested in the good fairies who do good things for the poor and the suffering. Then a little later, when the child reads for himself he can see how much better Mary Howitt tells the story in verse. Nevertheless, some children will prefer it in prose and often may ask to have other poems “told in prose.” There is no reason for refusing. Story first, poem afterward, is a good rule to follow if you want to create a taste for poetry. Sometimes just a remark, “Let us see how this sounds in poetry,” will create enough interest to enable the parent to begin reading aloud to an attentive audience. Most children will not learn to like poetry if left to their own devices. It must be read aloud to them and its beauties pointed out occasionally to create a love for so artificial a thing as metrical composition.

Parents will find in the General Index at the end of this volume not only reference to the contents of Journeys by title and author, but also a classification of subject matter, so that it will be easy to find different examples of poetry,—lyric, ballad, sonnet,—and of prose,—fiction, adventure, history, etc., offering a wide range of selection for story-telling purposes.

Little Giffin of Tennessee

This little narrative poem (Volume IV, page 461), is intensely dramatic. Too abrupt in style for easy reading and filled with words the children may not understand, it is not well adapted to the very young. But there’s a story in it of courage and deep patriotism that will be an inspiration to every child who can hear it. What better subject can a parent find for his son’s encouragement than a tale told in his own words or read in the following?

Little Giffin of Tennessee was only a boy, only a boy of sixteen, not bigger nor stronger than Charlie, Thomas or George Jones whom you see going by to school every day. Yet he wasn’t running along bareheaded carrying a bat or swinging his books by a strap. Little Giffin was a poor wounded soldier boy who had been already in eighteen battles; more than one, you see, for every year of his short life.

In the last terrible charge, a grape shot had struck him in the leg and arm and torn the flesh from his broken bones. Over him his comrades swept up to the face of the enemy’s guns, and little Giffin was left to fight his battle with cold, and rain and hunger. All night long he lay moaning on the ground, and it was late in the forenoon of the next day when he was found and taken to the hospital.

There they laid his mangled body among the hundreds of others who had met with a fate as hard as his own. It was hours before the surgeons could come to him, and then so hurried were they by other calls upon them that only a hasty dressing of his poisoned wound was possible.

Some kindly visitors found him there, his fair young face flushed with the deadly fever, and begged the surgeons to do something for him.

“We can do nothing,” they said. “Our hands are full. His case is hopeless. We must help where it will do some good.”

“But may we take him with us? May we see what we can do for him? Perhaps we can find a doctor who can cure him.”

“Take him and welcome,” the surgeon replied. “But you can find no doctor who can save the dead. Little Giffin can never get well.”

But the good people lifted the broken form and carried it out from the hospital’s deadly air, into the golden sunshine and away to a clean little cot in a humble home where a good doctor treated him and a kind motherly nurse hung over him and soothed his feverish brain for many a weary hour. For days it seemed that every breath would be his last and for months his sufferings wrung the hearts of his friends.

But at last there came a day when he could sit up a little, and then for weeks he hobbled about, an almost helpless cripple with a rude crutch for his only support.

But his new friends had known that he would get well, for even during the days of burning fever and the weeks of weary recovery his heart had been filled with courage and his steel blue eye had glinted with a dauntless spirit that would not die.

The crippled right arm and mangled fingers were slow in healing and nearly useless when the wounds were closed and only ugly scars remained. In spite of all, though, he learned again to write, and you can imagine that the first letter, in its scraggly writing, began, “My Dearest Mother,” and the next, “Dear Captain.”

Mother’s answer came first and brought warmth and love to the heart of the brave little cripple who dreamed now only of home—home, which he had not dared hope to see again. But then the Captain’s letter came:

“Dear Giffin:

“Your letter reached me tonight. God bless you, my boy. I thought you were gone with the others. Of the eighty-five who made that fatal charge only you and I are now alive. They say that Johnston is hard pressed and needs every man——”

Little Giffin never finished reading the letter. He was up and ready to start away to the front, to his Captain and to Johnston.

“Johnston needs every man,” he said, as the first tears he had shed came to his brave blue eyes. “He needs every man and I’ll be some help. I’ll write to you, if I’m spared. Good bye. God bless you, kindest of friends.”

He was gone. Long his friends waited for word from Giffin, little Giffin of Tennessee. But there came only the news of a terrible battle with Johnston, where indeed every man was needed.

And little Giffin? Little Giffin never wrote.

But I’d rather have one loyal Giffin, in a nameless grave on a southern battle field, than all the cowardly men who would fawn around me if I were a king.

Now I’ll read you a little poem which tells better than I can the story of brave little Giffin of Tennessee.

The Ballad of Agincourt

By telling the story and giving some explanation of difficult terms, we are often able to create an interest in poems that would otherwise remain unread. The best of old English ballads are so full of martial spirit that they may well prove an inspiration to many a boy in these days when war has so recently rent the whole world and proved the courage of our own young men. Back of the action that brought bloodshed and suffering is a spirit of loyalty, a genuine patriotism that is as much needed now as when it animated the souls of the British soldiery in those days of long ago. It is part of our inheritance, and may not be forgotten. It is to be hoped that we may never need it again amid the smoke and carnage of the battlefield, or in the silent horror of the trenches, but we have each for himself conflicts to wage with foes more insidious than the armed forces of rival nations, and we can win them only by the same spirit of devotion that brought victory at Agincourt. The Ballad of Agincourt (Volume V, page 95), is followed by notes that make clear its historical setting, but a few comments may help to a better appreciation of the inspirational value of the selection.

It is natural that in verses written about three hundred years ago there should be found some crudities in style, some lapses in syntax, and not a few words strange to us or having a meaning somewhat different from their present significance. Among such lapses in syntax we find the slight confusion of tenses in the first stanza, caused in the poet’s mind by the necessity of making a rhyme for France, though this might have been obviated by writing “stands” for “stood” and using the present tense throughout. The necessities of rhyme troubled Drayton not a little: he must pronounce “Agincourt” as it is written to rhyme with “sort,” which, by the way, is not a perfect rhyme for “fort” in the sixth stanza, and “great” does not rhyme with “seat” nor “feat”; in the seventh, “rear,” “there” and “were” do not rhyme; other instances are easily found. Of words not now familiar, or used in an unfamiliar sense, the following are examples: We do not frequently speak of the wind “standing” in a certain direction; we do not often “advance” our sails nor “prove” our chance; “vaward” and “bilboes” are old words; “ding” in the sense used here has long been forgotten; of “archery” except as a sport we know nothing; “Spanish yew” is no longer valuable for bows, and few can tell how long a “clothyard” (the English ell, 45 inches long) is, or whether it differs from any other “yard” as a measure of length.

If the things just mentioned are defects they are of little moment and add to the quaintness of the verses without detracting from their force. Anyone who reads for inspiration and for his own betterment puts aside the critical spirit, places himself in the position of the writer, harmonizes thoughts and reads for the message without much concern for the medium. But there are force, action, rhythm, clearness and beauty in this old ballad. Let us see what we can find without carrying analysis to the point where it destroys the spirit. All we need is an understanding of the meaning of the sentences and an expressive reading aloud. The former, we can supply here, the latter the reader must contribute. Poetry must be read aloud to be appreciated by any but those who can listen to their thoughts and hear the words their eyes garner from the printed page. Such readers are few.

Here is the paraphrase that makes the meaning clear.

With a wind blowing straight for France the English soldiery spread their sails to try one more campaign against their ancient enemies. Crossing the open sea they landed at the mouth of the Seine river, following King Henry and his noble courtiers.

There was fighting all the way, and many a strongly garrisoned fort was taken, to the joy of all the English. Every day had its skirmish with the French, who stoutly defended the way to Agincourt where lay their commander with all his great army of fifty thousand men. Here the Frenchman sent to King Henry the sarcastic message: “You are going to your doom. Better get your ransom ready before you advance further.” To this insult the English king made no answer, but an angry smile that foreshadowed the fall of his vile opponents flashed from his eyes.

Turning to his men, however, the brave king spoke: “Don’t be alarmed if they do outnumber us ten to one. We have begun nobly. Battles so bravely won as these we have fought, have always been lauded to the skies. Your fame shall never die. And as for myself, this is my task. I shall not ask England to mourn for me nor to praise me. If I am not victor here, or if I am slain, never shall she be asked for one penny to redeem me. From the great battles of Poitiers and Cressy we learn that when the French were the most swollen with pride they fell beneath our swords. Our skill is none the less than that of those who fought under our great grandsire when he defeated the French and cut their national emblems to the ground.”

What a battle array it was! The vanguard was led by the dread Duke of York; the king himself in the midst of his brave guards sped in the center with the main body of the troops, while the valiant rearguard was captained by Excester, courageous as any man in the great army.

And now the fight begins! Armour on armour shines; drum now to drum does groan,—to hear is wonder; that, with the cries they make, shakes the very earth; trumpet to trumpet speaks, thunder to thunder.

From the ambuscade of our hidden forces the noble Erpingham gives the signal for the English archers to fire. Now like a storm the cloth-yard-long arrows sped by the strong bows of Spanish yew strike the French horses, stinging them like serpents through the withers. Every bowman stands to his place, not one deserting; every true English heart rejoices in the slaughter.

Down go the bows when the arrows are shot, out spring the great swords, as the English fly on the French, not one laggard in the company; straight from their shoulders spring the blows that cleave the heads of the French peasants and drop them in the dust of trampling feet.

Meantime the noble king, brandishing his broad-sword, dashes along the French line as though to overwhelm it with his mighty blows, while many a wound sheds blood on his arms and many a cruel dint sinks into his helmet.

The good duke Glo’ster, next of the royal blood, fights side by side with his brave brother, and the youthful Clarence in this almost the first of his battles fights as furiously as any experienced knight; Warwick wades in blood, and Oxford adds to the cruel slaughter of the foe. Suffolk plies his axe manfully while Beaumont, Willoughby, Ferrers and Fanhope, names for the English to conjure with, bear themselves as bravely.

Hervé Riel

Let us take, as a final example, Browning’s poem Hervé Riel (Volume VIII, page 168). We will set about the preparation of it together. First we will read the note and then the poem. * * * It is a stirring thing, a noble monument to a noble man. It is worth the telling. We will read through it again and mark the passages that contain the incidents that make the story, so that we may not have to hesitate for ideas after we begin to talk. * * * Really, the plot is more simple than we thought. It is merely this: “The French fleet, defeated by the English, arrives off the harbor of Saint Halo. They call for pilots, but none will try to conduct the big ships through the dangerous channel, and the captains decide to wreck and burn their ships, so the English may not capture them. Just at this time a simple Breton sailor offers to pilot the vessels through, under penalty of death. The commander puts him in charge of the fleet and he takes them safely into the harbor. The English arrive just too late to do any damage, and the French commander, grateful to his deliverer, offers him any reward he may wish. The Breton laughs and asks for one day’s leave to go and visit his wife who lives near by.”

Let us consider the persons. Evidently Hervé Riel is the only one we need mention by name. We could give him a simpler name, but if the story is true, everyone ought to remember him. We must try to make him seem alive. We must make his deed seem great and must make a point of his patriotic devotion and of his beautiful love for his wife.

Now we are ready to talk, as soon as we have thought a little and assured ourselves that we are in the right spirit. So, facing our audience of small children, we begin:

I’ve just been reading Hervé Riel, a story that I like so much I must tell it to you. A long time ago, before there was a (name your town), really before there was a United States, there was a long war across the ocean between the great nations, England and France. There had been a bloody battle between their navies, and the French had been beaten. Still twenty-two of their ships escaped, sailed to their own country and arrived outside the harbor of Saint Malo. But they were not safe, by any means. The English were close behind and could soon overtake and capture or destroy all the French vessels, and put to death many of their crews. Inside the harbor the French knew they would be safe, for no English vessel could get through the long, crooked channels without a pilot, and no Frenchman would lead the English.

Without even waiting to anchor, the captains made signals for pilots and many skilled ones came off to the ships. When the pilots heard that the French were crippled and must get into the harbor they laughed at the captains.

“Go through there now?” they said. “Why, you can’t do it. Don’t you see it’s low tide and the rocks are showing everywhere? The channel is crooked and very dangerous at high water and now you could not get your smallest ship through safely, let alone such a large ship as the Formidable here, with her ninety-two big guns. It can’t be done.”