A MANUAL OF STORIES A LITTLE nnvil MAIDEN. The grandmother is instructing child- in Bible stories which are shown on the tiles of the fireplace. Manual of Stories by William Byron Forbush Author of THE "BoY PROBLEM" "MANUAL OF PLAY," ETC. PHILADELPHIA GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. Publishers Copyright, 1915 AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF CHILD LIFE PUBLISHER'S NOTE There could be no good reason for adding another to the many good books upon story-telling, unless a new book should prove to have something that has not been said be- fore. This manual is distinctive in several ways. It is the most comprehensive book that has yet been written. It covers all the aspects of the subject: the value of stories; the kinds of stories children like at different ages ; devices for making stories effective ; picture-stories ; dramatized stories ; the relations of stories to play ; the use of stories in building character ; stories in the home, the school and the church ; professional story-telling, etc. Part II is devoted to the first detailed description yet printed of the remarkable system of bottle-doll story- telling. The list of sources for stories is the most extensive yet compiled. The first classified list of stories for character-build- ing ever prepared is here. The fullest list of story-plays for children is given. Several helpful programs and special lists are fur- nished. The most unique of these is a set of a dozen lists of stories, especially prepared for the author by the best story-tellers in America, which in their own experience were most liked by children and were favorites of them- selves. It is of special value that the book is written from the masculine standpoint. The volume is enriched by the thoughts of the earlier writers in this field, which are carefully acknowledged and gratefully used. 526 CONTENTS PART I HOW TO TELL STORIES PAGE I THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING Responsiveness of the Child; Physical Value; Educational Value; Emotional Value; Stories in Character-Building; How Stories Assist in the Development of Character; Social Helps; Moral Value; Limitations of Story-Telling; It Takes Both Work and Friendship to Make a Life; Why Tell Stories 3 / II VARIOUS KINDS OF STORIES The Primitive Story; Myths; Fairy Stories; Epic Stories; Biography and Purposive Stories; Story-Telling Poems 17 III STORIES THAT CHILDREN LIKE Stories with a Sense Appeal; Fairy Stories; Hero Tales; Differing Tastes of Boys and Girls; Story-Tastes Are Defined by Expe- rience; Funny Stories and Sad Stories 21 IV How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN Plot of the Story; A Good Beginning; Action and Sense Appeal; Climax; Method; Results Are in the Future 28 V STORY-TELLING DEVICES Getting the Attention; Direct Discourse; Details; Repetition; Retouching; One's Self and the Story; Leisure; Story-Telling with Chalk; Shall One Memorize? Spontaneity; The Child's Part in Story-Telling 39 VI CONTINUED STORIES The Continued Story as a Drama; Serial Stories Classified by Ages 50 VII PICTURE STORY-TELLING Picture-Interests of Children; Suggestions for Picture Study; Studying Pictures through the Story; Choice of Pictures for Children; Methods of Story-Telling through Pictures; Two Pic- ture Stories: "Boy and Rabbit" "The Age of Inno- cence"; Permanent Value of Pictures; Moral Educa- tion through Picture Stories; A List of Story Pictures 55 VIII RELATION OF STORIES TO PLAY The Story Game; Story-Playing on Sunday; A List of Stories and Play- things 74 CONTENTS PAGE IX DRAMATIZING STORIES Dramatizing Stories in School; Stories that Are Easily Acted; The Puppet Theater; Children's Dramatics 8 1 X THE STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: IMAGINATIVE STORIES How to Grade Such Stories; Stories with a Sense Appeal: "Monday" "The Wee Hare and the Red Fire" Fairy Stories: "The Fairy Who Came to Our House" "Little Blue Gown and the Butterfly" ; Myths and Legends: "The Knight with the Ill-Fitting Coat"; Parables and Allegories: "The Magic Shirt" "The Closing Door" 87 XI THE STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STO- RIES Realistic Stories and Biography: "Jimmy and the Sharper" Plutarch's Stories; One of Lincoln's Stories; Suggestions as to Telling Moral Stories ... in XII How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES Why the Bible Is the Best Story Book; The Manner of Bible Story-Telling; The Method of Bible Story-Telling; Method of Sub- traction; Changing the Order of Incidents; Methods of Reality; Bringing the Bible People into Pres- ent Day Life; Selection of Bible Stories 122 XIII STORIES AND SCHOOL The Story as a Help to Attention ; The Story as a Help to Interest; The Story as a Help to Thinking and Expression; The Story as a Help to Literature; The Story as a Help to Writing and His- tory; The Story as a Help to Nature Study; The Story as a Social Unifier; The Story as a Help to Morals . . 135 XIV STORIES IN THE HOME The Comfort and Contentment of Stories; The Companionship of Stories; Imagi- nativeness of Stories; The Story Helps More at Home Than in School; The Story and Home Reading; The Story and Home Handicraft; The Story and Home Discipline; The Naturalness of Home Story-Telling; Stories at Bed-Time 143 XV ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING The Story-Hour in Libra- ries; The Story-Hour on the Playground; The Story- Hour in the Club for Street Boys; Suggestions for the A Story-Hour; The Program in the Story-Hour; The ' Story-Tellers' League; The Story-Class 152 CONTENTS PART II THE BOTTLE STORY-PEOPLE PAGE XVI THE BOTTLE STORY-PEOPLE Who the Bottle People Are; The Advantages of Bottles; The Relation to Handicraft ; A New Way of Developing the Imagination 1 75 XVII THE BOTTLE CHARACTERS The Kingdom of Love; the Kingdom of Law; The People Who Live in the En- chanted Land; Changing Names Does not Change Characters 179 XVIII THE ENCHANTED LAND How the Characters Move About; Uses for the Sand Table; Allegory of the Enchanted Land 184 XIX How TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND Introductory Suggestion for the Story -Teller; How the Story-Teller Begins; Introducing the People "Frank Enters the Enchanted Land" 189 XX MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY The Importance of the Education of the Heart; The Naturalness of Moral Reflection to Children; Childhood's Need of a Mimic World to Practice In; The Meaning of this Mimic World; Significance of Some of the Characters; "The Brew" ; "The Potion and the Lovely Lady " ; The Influ- ence of the Plan in Will-Training 199 XXI SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES "When Ruth and Frank Visited the Enchanted Land"; "The Fox and the Farmer" ; Some Other Stories 212 How TO MAKE THE BOTTLE PEOPLE 226 How TO MAKE THE SCENERY AND ARRANGE THE ACCES- 228 XXII XXIII XXIV XXV SORIES RULES FOR MOVING THE BOTTLE PEOPLE 231 WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN How to Make Children Originative; A Story Told by a Child of Nine; A Story Told by a Seven- Year-Old ; Some of Mary Lowe's Experiences; Harry's Story; Mary Lowe's Story; Some Moral Results from Bottle-Doll Story-Telling 233 8 CONTENTS APPENDIXES PAGE I A List of Stories that Children Like, Selected by the Best Story-Tellers 245 To Accompany Chapter III II A List of Books on Story-Telling 252 To Accompany Chapter IV III A List of Books Containing Picture-Stories or Descrip- tions 253 To Accompany Chapter VII IV A List of Books on Dramatics and of Story-Plays for Children 257 To Accompany Chapter IX V A List of Character-Building Stories 263 To Accompany Chapter X VI A List of Bible Stories and of Bible Story-Books . . 278 To Accompany Chapter XII VII A List of Story-Books Connected with School Subjects. 284 To Accompany Chapter XIII VIII A Season's Program of Stories 288 To Accompany Chapter XV IX A Program of Bottle-Doll Stories 291 To Accompany Chapter XXI X A General List of Story-Books 293 PART I HOW TO TELL STORIES With many Story Devices A MANUAL OF STORIES THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING "Here are Hesperides more fair, Here lovelier vales than Avalon." Thomas Walsh. Of late we have come to take story- telling seriously. It is one of the oldest of arts and one of the most valuable. It is everywhere and in all ages an art that is favored and enjoyed by children. All over the world and in all races, listening to stories has been one of childhood's choicest occupations, and the telling of stories has been one of child- hood's earliest crafts. It has always been to children one of the most effective doorways unto life and knowledge. So natural is the story to children that it has made them masters in fields wherein the knowledge obtained by adults with painstaking reading and study cannot surpass them. "The boy Coleridge," says Stephani Schiitze, "sitting in his father's library, watching, half fearfully, the advanc- ing sunlight, till it should touch the back of the 'Arabian Nights/ when he would dare at last to take the enchanted volume from the shelf and read, probably had a greater appreciation of the immortal book, bountiful and wanton as the outpourings of nature, natural and humorous as unper- verted mankind, and as beautiful as the courts of dream- land, than unimaginative men with all their stores of knowl- edge." : -MANUAL OF STORIES THE RESPONSIVENESS OF THE CHILD This is true because the child gives, during the telling, all the intensity of his attention, which is inimitable. In two realms, play and stories, a child becomes completely immersed in the present. Charles Murray, in his charming verse, "The Whistle," pictures a little Scotch dreamer set to watch the cattle, who attained such self -absorption, in his boy playcraft. "He cut a sappy sucker from the muckle rodden tree, He trimmed it, an' he wet it, an' he thumped it on his knee; He never heard the teuchat when the harrow broke her eggs, He missed the craggit herons nabbin' puddocks in the seggs, He forgot to hound the collie at the cattle when they strayed, But you should have seen the whistle that the wee herd made !" A like absorption goes with the story, and this absorp- tion is all the more potent because it is an absorption in joy. The lesson which the Greeks teach us is the art of making education joyous. Instead of regarding with aver- sion the different subjects which they had studied in school, the Greeks loved them and practiced and improved them- selves in them joyously throughout their lives. The story is such a subject, and its place in the school as well as in the home is one of dignified and valuable educational import. THE PHYSICAL VALUE Story-telling has its physical value. At the end of the day in the home or in the midst of confusion in the school, it charms the mind, rests the perturbed spirit and even helps prepare the body either for sleep or for renewed activity. THE EDUCATIONAL VALUE The story is of educational value. It is the very lan- guage of childhood. It is childhood's most characteristic THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING 5 form of expression and our most direct and successful means of conveying to it our ideas. It is the most con- crete method of teaching. Stories are pictures of life moving pictures, talking pictures, colored pictures. Their meaning lies on the surface. They reveal every phase and principle of life. The story, not less than the drama, holds a mirror up to nature. The story reveals life broadly. Most of us, as a skilled story-teller has remarked, live only one kind of life, and have but little opportunity to come into contact with lives spent under totally different surroundings. 'Tut yourself in his place" has been said to be the most needed attitude in the world to-day. The reason why the child is in- capable of putting himself in the place of others is because he has not had a wide experience with personal suffer- ing, privation and adventure. Real experiences of such sorts can come to him only gradually, some of them not until maturity. Vicarious experience in the lives of others may be offered him through stories. There is no more potent method of broadening social imagination and thus developing the spirit of generosity than through stories of other races and of other lands. Stories reveal not only the natural world but they interpret the world of fancy. We are coming to recognize the important value of imagination in education. The imaginative man is the joyous man, and, as we have been saying, the joyous man is the strong man. Says Seumas McManus, the famous Irish story-teller, "Story-telling will make the child father to a more kindhearted, a more en- thusiastic, a more idealistic man than the one taught to scorn story-telling. The story-telling nations of the world are the cheerful, social, enthusiastic, idealistic nations, and this because story-telling to the child brings out all the better qualities, sympathy, imagination, warm-heartedness, so- ciability." A story is of great value in training the memory. We find this when we hear young children demanding 6 MANUAL OF STORIES the repetition of familiar phrases or expressions. Later they like to hear stories retold, even if the element of repetition is not present. It has been noted that the child who has been accustomed all his life to hearing good stories well told has a larger vocabulary and a wider range of intelligence and recollection than the child whose story- telling has been neglected. THE EMOTIONAL VALUE The story as an emotional influence either stimulates or satisfies the feelings. It awakens and educates real and natural feelings, or it may satisfy feelings which are already familiar. An instance of the education of feelings would be a story in which a story-teller endeavored to excite sym- pathy toward living creatures. An instance of satisfying feeling would be a story in which a sympathy which he knew to be already present was fully expressed by him- self. Some years ago, Rufus Stanley, now director of the Omega Club for boys in Elmira, New York, was asked by Mr. Z. T. Brockway, then superintendent of the Elmira reformatory, to take charge for a few Sundays of a group of about 300 young men and older boys in the institution who were somewhat defective mentally. The problem of addressing them successfully was naturally a very diffi- cult one. Mr. Stanley decided to tell them a story. In order to do this effectively, it was necessary that he should secure a live wild bird. Being himself in charge of the grounds, he had opportunity to secure the co-operation of a large force of inmates, but it seemed as if birds never were so scarce upon the grounds as they were on that par- ticular afternoon when he wanted one. About an hour before the talk was to be given, a boy from the city brought him a little blackbird which had flown through an open window into his mother's kitchen. Attaching the little bird to his hand, Mr. Stanley brought it into the hall where the THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING 7 young fellows were gathered. He attracted their attention by holding it in plain view, and then he told them its story. He pictured its migration to the north in summer and im- agined its numerous adventures, the perils in its flight, its home-making and its return. He made the suggestion that the little bright bird would be an attractive companion for them in a cage. He brought his story to a close with this question: "Shall we keep the little bird or shall we let it go free?" With one hoarse shout, the company responded with the one word, "Free !" Mr. Stanley smiled and, re- leasing the bird, it flew out through a window which he had cleverly left open for the purpose, into the sunlight. By means of this story, Mr. Stanley had both educated their feelings and satisfied them. He recognized their love for wild life and he expressed their own native desire for freedom. STORIES IN CHARACTER BUILDING In answer to the query, Does story-telling help in build- ing character ? the one obvious answer is, Men have always thought so. I believe it is Partridge who says that the very origin of story-telling was in the instinct to teach. It is an interesting fact that the method of the story is still very generally used among primitive peoples in the training of their children. Spencer, in his book "The Education of the Pueblo Child," tell us that Pueblo children do not receive commands to do or to refrain from doing without a reason for the command being given. "This reason is given in the form of a story in which a given action is portrayed with the good or evil resulting to the doer. These legends, or folk-tales, are very numerous, so that one may be found illustrating almost any case that may arise." He also says that the Pueblos take story-telling as a form of training so seriously that they often select impressive times and meth- ods by which to lend force to these lessons. "In the eve- 8 MANUAL OF STORIES ning, when the fire burns low and the room is dimly lighted, is a favorite time for the repeating of those tales, and the solemn, hushed tones in which they are told, together with the striking postures accompanying them, give them a weirdly dramatic effect." His testimony is that the method is most effective. "They exercise a profound influence upon the children, and the moral laws they prescribe are seldom transgressed." "The assertion that it is impossible to teach morals, except by example or implication," says Professor Howard Moore, "is an assertion that has been made by somebody in the past and has been passed around ever since without ever having been challenged or investigated, like a great many of our other so-called truths. Kindness, honesty, humanity, truthfulness, and moral courage can be taught to young minds just as easily and effectively as Latin or arith- metic. All that is necessary is to begin early enough, use ingenuity, and keep at it. It is not possible to teach morality to all with complete success. There are also boys and girls who cannot learn geometry to save their lives. Yet we go on teaching it for 200 hours every year, even though our teaching often lands in stony places. As a general rule, anything can be taught to the young mind. A child is a tin- pail sitting out under the drip. It catches everything that comes along. The power to choose, the power to accept some things and reject others, is acquired later in life, if at all. We have never tried to teach morals and humanity. We have been content to preach them, which is a very dif- ferent thing from teaching them. Everything else that has ever been done or thought of, in the heavens above or in the earth beneath, has been taught, and with the most brilliant and appealing success. And with the same science and per- sistence we can teach those truths and ways of acting which are the very vitals of order and civilization." THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING KOW STORIES ASSIST IN THE DEVELOP- MENT OF CHARACTER It has been customary tp consider that the mental life of man has three phases, thinking, feeling and willing. Story-telling makes each of these factors of the child mind active. The story is helpful, in the first place, because it helps the child to know what is good. It encourages moral thoughtfulness. Children are not born with a knowledge of the Ten Commandments, and even if they were, this "knowledge" would not be especially effective. Everything the child really knows, he knows in terms of life. Truth, to him, must always be concrete. To the child, "Every boy's a fairy prince and every tale is true." The value of dragons is that they make evil concrete and horrible and the value of fairies is that they make goodness concrete and beautiful. Fairy godmothers are ministers of justice, and through the moral contests in the children's stories which he hears the child visualizes his own struggles. "There the sword Excalibur is thrust into the dragon's throat ; Evil there is evil, black is black and white is white; There the child triumphant hurls the villain spluttering in the moat ; There the captive princess only waits the peerless knight." Many a moral victory, like many a victory upon the battlefield, is won or lost before the actual struggle has begun. The battle is decided in the preliminary skirmish of contending mental images. If the child is stocked up with virtuous and inspiring mental images, through stories, his imagination already is captured by goodness. Stories not only help the child to know what is good, but they help him to want to know what is good. The child himself is morally alert, but stories make him even more alert. They help him, as Prof. Frank C. Sharp has said, to "try to develop the habit of asking and the power of 10 MANUAL OF STORIES answering the question, What is the right course of action?" As he brightly says, "They reduce the amount of moral illiteracy." The story is helpful, in the second place, because it helps the child to feel what is good. The child is by nature prepared to feel strongly in response to stories. The child is essentially sympathetic. Innately, he seems to hate a task and to love a story. As Partridge says, "the Sleep- ing Beauty awakes, the Prince comes, the Fairy God- mother prevails over the witch, at the earnest and urgent demand of the heart of the child." And then he puts in italics the following statement: "To make the child feel intensely the strivings of others, and to make him feel the light and shades of feeling in many a live situation is to give him an opportunity for moral training and an exhorta- tion to be good." When the story is told in such a way that goodness triumphs and the child wishes goodness to triumph, he is receiving a vivid experience of the value of goodness. He believes that life and goodness are worth while. Just as it is true, as Charles Eliot Norton used to say, that "A book is dangerous if it makes life seem unin- teresting," so a story is dangerous if it makes life seem less worth while. On the contrary, if a story to a child adds to his valuation of goodness in life, it has manifestly en- riched his experience. When we do this, we do not appeal merely to the child's sensitive feelings, but also to some- thing deeper in his nature. We touch his most deeply rooted admirations, his love of fair play, his love of loyalty, the unselfish impulses of his nature, and when we recognize and bring these to the surface, we are like the skilled musician who opens an instrument and touches to beautiful harmony strings that are already in tune. We are doing the very important thing of educating the child's desires. The very mood in which a child listens to stories is helpful to our end. A good story makes the child happy ; and joy is strength. A tale which has touched his better feelings and given him a vicarious experience of being good THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING 11 himself sends him out with greater courage actually to do good. Even the sweet sadness of the pathetic tale, if it be not mawkish in its sentimentality, strengthens rather than subdues the spirit. Brushing away the happy tears that come in response to a tale of injured virtue or of dramatic self-sacrifice, the child turns back to life invigor- ated and cheered. It is still true, as the old Hebrew sage told us, that "out of the heart are the issues of life." It is really the heart rather than the intellect that must be convinced if the hu- man being is to be changed. It is not only much more en- couraging, but it is much more effective to be able, through a story, to persuade a child that such and such things have been done rather than through command to tell him that such and such things should be done. The story is helpful, in the third place, because it helps the child to will what is good. No child listens to a story passively. He instantly personalizes himself as the hero of the tale to which he is listening. In imagination, what the hero does he does. Thus he really reacts to a moral situation. This means that he is unconsciously taking sides, choosing. If this be true in a single story, how much more effectively is it true when the child has been in the habit of listening to many inspiring stories. If it is a fact, as psychologists tell us, that the mind works through grooves of ideas furnished, and that, while it still has a certain free- dom in choosing a lot of new grooves and in leaving out a lot of old things, it chiefly runs along the rails of the ideas which have already been laid down, then it is apparent that to furnish the child a series of good stories is building a road-way along which the will, as it develops, may most easily run. So the battlefield of life may be used, through stories, to show the child how to summon to his assistance allies which will assist him in sweeping opposition from his path. When he listens to such stories he signals his allies to his side. 12 MANUAL OF STORIES THE SOCIAL HELPS THE MORAL VALUE The influence of story-telling upon the will is not only in what the story incites the child to do, but in the relation between the story-teller herself and the child. Miss Sara Cone Bryant gives a very pretty little incident of her suc- cessful endeavor by means of stories to win the confidence and affections of a shy young niece. The evening effort did not seem to succeed, but it was different in the morning, after she had assisted at the little girl's toilet, with some more stories. "When the curls were all curled and the last little button buttoned, my baby niece climbed hastily down from her chair, and deliberately up in my lap. With a caress rare to her habit, she spoke my name, slowly and tentatively, 'An-ty Sai-ry ?' Then, in an assured tone, ' Anty Sairy, I love you so much I don't know what to do !' And presently, tucking a confiding hand in mine to lead me to breakfast, she exclaimed sweetly, 'I didn' know you when you corned las' night, but now I know you all th' time !' ' The child, through the story, is brought sympathetically near, not only to the virtue of which the story tells, but to the story-teller herself. In discipline, a story is better than scolding and clearer than a command. The personality of the story-teller, not only kindly and good, but also strong and wise, remains after the story is over to co-operate and thus to help strengthen the will to make an effort toward virtu- ous activities. William T. Hornaday gives a beautiful reminiscence in his "American Natural History" of this combined influence of motherly teaching and fellowship upon conduct in later life. 'To me the mourning-dove has always seemed a sacred bird," says he, "and although I could have killed thousands of them, I have never taken the life of one. When a very small boy at my mother's knee she related to me the story of the winged messenger sent out by Noah to look for real THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING 13 estate. She told me that doves were innocent and harmless birds, and that I must never wrong one in the least. Had my good mother issued an injunction covering the whole animal kingdom, I think I would have grown up as harm- less to animals as any Hindoo; for her solemn charge regarding mourning-doves has always seemed as binding as the Ten Commandments. I mention this in order to point out to parents and teachers the vast influence they may easily wield in behalf of our wild creatures, which are in sore need of protection." THE LIMITATIONS OF STORY-TELLING There is no such thing as virtue per se. Character is altogether a matter of a human being's relation to society. What we are trying to develop is not abstract qualities of will t)Ut real and living relationships. If we are not careful we shall be doing what so many have done in the past, teaching the "virtues" instead of bringing the children face to face with concrete duties. "Let us," insists Prof. George A. Coe, "stop studying the Virtues' and study in- stead what men do and why they do it." J. Lewis Paton, a successful English schoolmaster, criticizes the method of moral instruction which has been made famous by F. J. Gould of the British Moral Education League. "He tells the story of the taming of Bucephalus, and draws out most skilfully the appropriate moral: the pill with Mr. Gould tastes almost as nice as the jam. But suppose you brought me a boy lacking in self-control and asked me how he was to learn self-control I should not dream of suggesting Mr. Gould's book. I should say: Let him play football with the other boys, and see that he plays hard. When he has, with the ball in his hands, broken through the opposing lines, receiving in the process a whack on the head and a kick on the shins, and then, triumphantly crossing the line, and touching down the ball between the enemy's goal posts, 14 MANUAL OF STORIES is recalled by the referee's whistle and his try is disallowed, because the referee had thought he had run on to the touch- line that not being the case then, I say, if the boy bears all that without mentioning any towns in Holland, but smiles genially at the referee and the full-back who hacked him, and starts off again to play up and play the game as hard as ever then, I say, however ignorant that boy may be of Bucephalus, he has learned in practice the lesson of self-control; and I don't myself see how he could learn it better." IT TAKES BOTH WORK AND FRIENDSHIP TO MAKE A LIFE Stories cannot take the place of life. Recognize this clearly and remember this lesson that no story is of value that does not relate the child directly to life, and we shall continue to endeavor to tell stories skilfully and also en- deavor to help children to live actively. "Let us agree at once," Mrs. Ella Lyman Cabot concedes, "that stories are not substitutes for right-doing, but only one among the rein- forcements of right-doing. Character grows mainly in two ways : through work well done, and through the contagious example of people whom we love and admire. These two influences, work and friendship, will always be the greatest spurs to right-doing. Yet I believe that ethical teaching can supplement them and can help to bring out their mean- ing. A lover of birds haunts their favorite woods and meadows ; but does he not also find it wise now and again to enter a natural-history museum where, ranged in rows, a little stiffly, are all his woodland friends? There he can study thoroughly and quietly their characteristics ; there he can compare one with another, noticing the variations in color and distinguishing members of the same species. When he goes back to the fields, it will be with keener eyes. Ethical lessons may well bring this help. They will help THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING 15 us to see quietly, before temptation arises, what is the right act. Many acts of dishonesty, discourtesy, cruelty, and self-deceit are due primarily to lack of clear thought and quickened imagination. I believe that ethical teaching at its best is a quickening spirit, a call to the soul, a life creat- ing life. Among the greatest citizens of my state, I number one who from boyhood has saturated himself with all that he can learn of Abraham Lincoln. That life is no biography to him, nor is it a good example. It is a voice calling. He has answered it. Every year he is finding new ways of responding to it. I cannot conceive his life without that of Lincoln his master, whom he never saw. If by any lessons about the leaders of men, we can give a single child such a sense of the presence of Lincoln as my friend bears about with him, years of toil will not be too much." WHY TELL STORIES? But why tell rather than read stories? Seumas Mc- Manus answers: ''Story-telling is superior to the written story chiefly because the man who writes is not in touch with the audience. The story-teller talks to you, and has to make a story from beginning to end, and every sentence has to be a part of the story, because he is within range of a brickbat and subject to the recall at any minute." And why tell children stories rather than encourage them to read them themselves ? Of course we do both, but Mr. McManus answers again : "I think story-telling is to story-reading what the eating of a meal is to reading the bill-of-fare. The story-reading nations of the world are the morose nations, because the reader's a selfish man who goes away into a corner with his book, becomes oblivious to the world around him, and gives back to the world nothing. Talk about land hogs, car hogs, end-seat hogs I think the worst of them all is the book hog." By means of the story, the story-teller adds to the in- 16 MANUAL OF STORIES tellectual value of the tale the power of his own person- ality. Of this we shall speak further in our suggestions concerning methods of story-telling. Beyond this advantage is the added charm of the personal element which forms a kind of halo to the story. When you make a story your own and tell it, the listener gets the story plus your appre- ciation of it. It comes to him filtered through your own enjoyment. If one were asked how late in life stories seem to charm, his answer might well be the same that he would give if he were asked when old men cease to love. Grown- ups seem to share, when they hear a story well told, the feeling expressed once to the writer so sweetly by a Quaker maiden of fourteen when he was apologizing to her for assuming to interest her in a story that he had just told, since it was only for children. She replied : "I am always a child when thee is speaking." II VARIOUS KINDS OF STORIES "World-old and beautiful stories, Which I once, when little, From the neighbors' children have heard When we, on summer evenings, Sat on the steps before the house-door, Bending us down to the quiet narrative With little listening hearts." Heinrich Heine. Story-telling is an art of such dignity that it has a his- tory. Among each people a certain kind of story arises at a certain stage of development and then at a later stage is succeeded by another kind of story. THE PRIMITIVE STORY First comes the primitive story. It is chiefly a story of the forest and of the animal world. It represents, so Partridge thinks, the effort of early peoples, struggling with their yet unmastered circumstances, to obtain some satis- faction from their unyielding world. In the story, giants are not wholly unconquerable. "The good fairy grants the wish that nature denies." "The stories tell about the things of nature; but beneath it all he is telling the story of his own desires, hopes, fears and disappointments. In his story it is he himself who is contending with and defeating the giant ; who meets the god face to face ; who wins the super- natural bride. ... It keeps him hopeful amid dangers and the certainty of death and disaster." Also the primitive 18 MANUAL OF STORIES story seems to hark back to the time when man felt a closer kinship with the animals, and perhaps traced his descent from them. We see these two ideas, kinship with the ani- mals and satisfaction in personal conquest, in the Uncle Remus tales, which are really primitive African stories in which the negro race identifies itself with merry, shrewd and ever triumphant Br'er Rabbit. MYTHS After the primitive stories come the myths. The myth differs from the primitive story in containing more philoso- phy. It is the primitive story adultized. Sometimes it has been perpetuated into a civilized age and made sophisti- cated, or polished into a parable, or filled full of adult experience. For these reasons Partridge thinks the Greek myths are too symbolic, too sexual, too subtle, less suitable for the child than the Norse, which were cut off while still nearer the nature stage. FAIRY STORIES Following myths are fairy stories. The fairy story is what happens to a myth when people have ceased to believe it. It is just this mood of half belief or pure fancy which causes it to appeal to a child. The nature element is still there, the feeling if not the faith is preserved and the play- ful treatment brings it where the child can apprehend it. For a time the child himself believes it. It has for him some religious significance. As Partridge says, "It keeps the supernatural alive and real to the child, shows the world full of friendliness and exalts the good-will prin- ciple." THE EPIC STORIES Next come the epic stories. The myths have gathered about heroes, who often absorb into their mighty personali- VARIOUS KINDS OF STORIES 19 ties the adventures of many brave men and the qualities admired of all men. What once was attributed of glory to the sun or to spiritual powers is now granted to man- kind. "It is the story of man becoming self-conscious." Without realizing it fully, the bard finds within himself that which he awards to his hero. BIOGRAPHY AND PURPOSIVE STORIES By this time literature has appeared, and the epic story takes the more careful and literal forms of biography and history. The story-teller speaks now not solely for the joy of creating but with the desire to improve others, espe- cially children, and we have the purposive story, such as the fable and parable, both usually amplifications of old animal or folk-tales. Finally, we come to the portrayal of real and modern life in the realistic story, in the forms of romantic and photographic fiction. STORY-TELLING POEMS We did not mention among the literary forms that may be used in story-telling, poetry. For story-reading poetry is excellent, since the great myths and legends and hero-tales have been sung in verse with the music of ring- ing words and the accompaniment of tramping melodies. "Bright is the ring of words When the right man rings them; Sweet is the fall of songs When the singer sings them." But for story-telling, except to those who memorize readily, poetry is a limitation, because the teller is neces- sarily restricted to the words and metres of the original and can find scope for no imaginativeness or originality 20 MANUAL OF STORIES of his own. As the story-teller is himself a bard rather than a reciter, he is usually freer, except for an occasional apt quotation, if he sticks to rhythmic prose. Persons who have good verbal memories are to be congratulated as having the capacity to give children stories beautified by melody and rhyme. "I have seen a child of three thrilled almost to ecstasy," is the testimony of Louise Seymour Houghton, "by The Splendor Falls on Castle Walls/ and even by 'Lady Clara Vere de Vere.' I am at a loss for words to estimate what I consider the moral and spiritual value of thus awakening and keeping alive the faculty of intense joy. It is by means such as this that we make our children grow up whole and all round characters, able to appreciate the value of a 'wholesome artistic life/ as Professor Henderson puts it, referring at the same time to Milton's fine phrase, 'simple, sensuous, passionate.' " These constitute the story-teller's treasury, and as we shall see in the next chapter, each has its place in its own period in a child's life. Ill STORIES THAT CHILDREN LIKE "That beautiful interest in wild tales which made the child a man, while all the time he suspected himself to be no bigger than a child." Stepkani Schutze. Children in a general way follow in their story tastes the evolution of stories. STORIES WITH SENSE APPEAL They first like stories with sense appeal. They like jingles because they gratify the sense for rhythm. They like finger plays because they gratify the sense of touch and the muscular sense. They like action plays because they gratify the sense of locomotion. The mention of color, sound, food and drink in a story brings back pleasant recol- lections, stimulates the imagination and arouses sense asso- ciations which it is especially desirable to stimulate in a dormant child. The Mother Goose rhymes are not only easily remembered, but the people in them, Bo Peep, Little Boy Blue, Mother Hubbard and the rest, who pass through familiar sense experiences and who are made individual and real usually in books by bright illustrations, satisfy that foreshadowing human interest which is in later years to become the most potent attraction of any story. FAIRY STORIES Soon after the imagination becomes really active, say by five or six, when the child is mature enough to throw 21 22 MANUAL OF STORIES himself into a fanciful situation, he is ready for fairy stories. Through fairy stories he may have access to the primitive story, full of nature and animal interest and shorn of part of its horror, because as Andrew Lang says, "You will not be afraid of magicians and dragons" since "a really brave child was always their master." We may learn some- thing as to the enjoyable element in fairy stories from certain facts of child nature. For instance, one of the well- known characteristics of the child is his feeling of kinship with the plant and animal world. You will hear a child in the garden talking lovingly to the flowers, chasing the butter- flies as if they were comrades, and thinking of the animals as if they were almost human. This identification of man with plant and animal life is one of the most familiar char- acteristics of the fairy story and the fable. Such nature- sympathy is particularly common in the German folk tales. "They are pervaded," says Felix Adler, "by the poetry of forest life, are full of the sense of mystery and awe, which is apt to overcome one on penetrating deeper and deeper into the woods, away from human habitations. They deal with the underground life of nature, which weaves in caverns and in the heart of mountains, where gnomes and dwarfs are at work gathering hidden treasures. And with this underground life children have a marvelous sympathy. They present glowing pictures of sheltered firesides, where man finds rest and security from howling winds and nipping cold. But perhaps their chief attraction is due to their representing the child as living in brotherly fellowship with nature and all creatures. Trees, flowers, animals, wild and tame, even the stars, are represented as the comrades of children. That animals are only human beings in disguise is an axiom in fairy tales. Animals are humanized i. e., the kinship between animal and human life is still strongly felt. Plants, too, are often represented as incarnations of human spirits. Thus the twelve lilies are inhabited by the twelve brothers, and in the story of Snow White and Rose Red the life of the two maidens appears to be bound up STORIES THAT CHILDREN LIKE 23 with the life of the white and red rosebush. The kinship of all life whatsoever is still realized." Another characteristic of childhood is its love for mas- querading. This liking is satisfied in stories in which the leading character is in disguise. The prince masquerades as a toad ; the fairy godmother as a decrepit old lady ; the heroine is dressed in rags, etc. Any "transformation scene" in the solution of the mystery of a story is analogous to the unmasking which children enjoy so much in their masquerading play. The moral appeal of such stories, well told, is that they are rehearsals of what the child is or would like to be. Therefore he enters the situation of the story with sympathy, and feels as its hero feels. There seems to be reason to suppose that children like fairy stories told in the old-fashioned way, such as was commended a few years ago by a writer in Blackwood's, who defines their style as that of the first quarter of the nineteenth century, a little stilted and filled with such ex- clamations as, "Vastly well, madam." A fable is a sort of desiccated animal story, and is not the most successful kind of an imaginative story because it is so short and contains so little plot and does not appeal strongly to the fancy. It should be placed with fairy stories. Parables and allegories, which appeal so strongly to the adult liking for solving puzzles, are not usually so effective with children, whose imagination tends to dwell upon the literal details rather than to pass on to the deeper meaning. They would be indicated, with the realistic stories, from about the tenth year on. HERO-TALES By the seventh year, as Richard T. Wyche points out, the child "discovers that the cow did not jump over the moon, as the Mother Goose rhyme had it, and that Santa Claus is not as he thought at first." But for a time he en- 24 MANUAL OF STORIES joys hero-tales. Perhaps they are wonder-tales, but they are not wonder-tales to him, for in every one of those mythical or epical tales "he imagines himself," as Miss Cowles says, "the hero of such wonderful and impossible adventures that when he is told of Phaeton and his mad ride, he accepts it with the same calm appreciation which is accorded the imaginings of his own creative moods. The slaying of the Gorgon is fully in harmony with his own future plans." By the later years of childhood, say from ten to twelve, when imagination has become more sober, there is an increasing demand for stories of actual heroes, of real men and women, and of boys and girls of his own age. The hero is the actual successor of the giant of the wonder- tale. He satisfies the imagination which still pleads for achievement but which is now irritated by the impossible. "Ay, let us tell the generous tale Of giants real and bold, Who grew so great they would not stoop To gather fame and gold; "But hurled the mountains from our path, And drained our quagmires dry, And held our foes at bay the while They bore our weaklings by." THE DIFFERING TASTES OF BOYS AND GIRLS The tastes of boys and girls begin to differentiate just before adolescence ; they have been summarized by Frances J. Olcott as follows : "As a boy's practical interest evolves, he being objec- tive by nature, prefers stories of athletics, of daring adven- tures, thrilling dangers and escapes, also of gregarious life, such as the experiences of gangs, pirates and robber-bands, and members of secret societies and clubs. He enjoys his- STORIES THAT CHILDREN LIKE 25 i tory, biography and books that show him how to make and do things. "A girl, with intense subjectivity, reads by preference stones of play, home, and school life; the burden of which too often is painful mental suffering over small sins, and misunderstandings. As she grows older, she enjoys simple love stories of a romantic nature. "The natural instincts of a girl are narrower than a boy's. They may be broadened, however, if some one whom she admires takes an active part in directing her reading, for the girl is a hero-worshiper, and is willing to be guided by the judgment of one whom she likes. On the other hand, a boy is cautious about taking advice from any one who does not agree with his definite likes for things and actions ; this is especially true of his reading/' This realistic period acts as a boundary between two eras of strong imagination and feeling, the childhood era of fairy stories and wonder-tales and the adolescent era of romance. During adolescence is the time for the epics and the great story-books of the world. The time for love stories does not come until the youth is partly through this period, to girls a year or two earlier than to boys. Late in the period those youths who form the reading habit grow fond of biography and history. STORY-TASTES ARE DEFINED BY EXPERIENCE The story-tastes of children are defined by their expe- rience as well as by their development. Especially among young children is it needful to endeavor to realize what the limitations of their travel and observation are. Miss Bailey records that she was once about to attempt Seumas MacManus' humorous story of Billy Beg and His Bull to some small people on the East Side of New York, when it occurred to her to wonder whether any one of them had 26 MANUAL OF STORIES ever seen a bull. Only one had, and this was his illumi- nating description : "a bigger cow, with bicycle handle-bars on her head !" The East Side would not appear to be the best place in the world to tell the bull story. It is a ques- tion whether the usual emphasis in the Primary Depart- ments of Sunday schools upon the Twenty-third Psalm and the Parable of the Good Shepherd is not misplaced, where most of the children have never seen a sheep. To them a story of a cat and her kittens would be more immediately intelligible. Miss Bailey sensibly propounds the following six ques- tions to be asked by any story-teller before she addresses her audience: What do these children know? Have they any experience other than that of the home? Do they come from homes of leisure or homes of industry ? Have they had a country or city experience ? Do they play with toys or games of chance? Are they Americans or aliens? "When she has satisfactorily answered these questions, the story-teller will select her story having for its theme, atmosphere and motif an idea or group of ideas that will touch the child's mental life as she has discovered it and by means of which it will find a permanent place in his mind through its comfortable friendliness and familiarity." A story that finds a child where he is at home is "like a friendly hand-grasp." This does not mean that every fact in a story must be a familiar one. Take the Story of the Three Bears. The child has never seen a bear, but he is familiar with every other thing in the story, a house, a bed, porridge, chairs, a little gir), and he has seen pictures of bears. In imagina- tive stories all children from all circumstances in life find a common ground of democracy. A beggar child as well as a poor little rich girl can dream of a fairy and a princess. STORIES THAT CHILDREN LIKE 27 FUNNY STORIES AND SAD STORIES A word about funny stories and sad stories. As the story-teller soon discovers, fun, especially for the young child, consists chiefly in the situation. The story of Bre'r Rabbit and the Tar Baby, which even adults enjoy, is per- haps the finest illustration of a story which is excruciatingly funny to the child. As for sad stories, do not tell them. "But they like sad stories. They ask for them," said a librarian who thought she knew how to plan a story-program much better than the story-teller. "Perhaps," acknowledges Mr. Schutze, "but who are 'they'? We will venture to assert that they are the future sentimentalists who cannot safeguard their own lives ; the future neurasthenics whose nerves and moods will be masters of their sickly bodies. It is more than likely that these children are the ones who most need satiric hu- mor and rough strength, or perhaps the brutal justice of the folk-tale as rendered by Grimm." Of course we wouldn't go so far as to maintain the literalness of our statement that sad stories should never be told. They ought certainly never to be the last story told in the day. If they be stories of injured or heroic or prudent virtue, they have their place, definite but small, in the variety of feeling- influence which we are at liberty to bring to bear upon a child's mind and heart. As Donald G. Mitchell said, "Little Red Riding Hood may be eaten up by the wolf who has put on her grandmother's cap; but the little Red Riding Hoods who are left will look all the sharper on those who are full of professions, and not judge people by their caps, and not believe the lying words of the strangers they meet upon the high-roads." The writer is fortunate to present, in Appendix I, lists, specially furnished him by some of the best story-tellers in America, not of stories that children ought to like but of those which, in their actual experience, children really do most like. IV HOW TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN "Folks say a Wizard to a Western King At Christmas-time such wondrous things did show, That through one window he beheld the spring; And through another saw the summer glow; And through a third the fruited vines arow ; While all the while, and in its wonted way, Piped the drear wind of that December day." William Morris. What is the plan for a good story? A narrative which has a definite beginning, continuous action and a definite ending. If it begins with a rambling description, it does not hold the interest and is not a good story. Unless some- thing happens soon and frequently, the child does not think it is a story at all. If it ends in a vague, indefinite way so that we do not really know what happened to the hero, even though that be like real life, it does not suit the child. The child's invariable desire for a happy ending is a simple outgrowth of his feeling for justice. "If the bad person is not punished and the good person not rewarded, the child feels that it is all wrong." The classics that appeal to children teach us how to tell them stories. Form and style to them are but little. Long comments and descriptions are annoying interruptions. First is personality. You must name and describe your hero. He is the child himself personalized. Then comes action. There must be a journey, a combat, a plot. Next is mystery, suspense, surprise. Finally the solution. With these simple elements anybody ought to tell a tale. They are the elements of the classics. 28 How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN 29 THE PLOT OF THE STORY There are really only four plots in any good story. These have been named by Angela M. Keyes as follows : First, "a single line of sequence." This is illustrated in such a story as "The Sleeping Beauty," in which the action moves steadily along a single line from one exciting event to the next. Second, "the three-parallel line." In such stories, we are shown what the first did, what the sec- ond did and what the third did, and the climax is usually in the third, and often the stupid third member of the family turns out to be the cleverest and most favored of fortune. Third, "two contrasting courses of action placed side by side." In such a story, we learn, first, what the beautiful person did and then what the ugly person did; what the industrious child did and what the idle one did, as in "Diamonds and Toads," "Cinderella," etc. Fourth, "the cumulative plan," illustrated in "The House that Jack Built," in which there are repetitions and added incidents and plots, and to each subject there is a new interest. These distinctions are particularly interesting in pre- paring to tell moral stories. In the first kind the story- teller moves straight toward the goal of his application by relating what was done by one person, the hero; in the third kind he contrasts the deeds of his hero with those of his villain. The second and fourth kinds are more elaborate and artificial and are usually not for the amateur. In each of these the goal is won through the pathway of suspended interest. So to most of us either the line of sequence or the method of contrast will be our choice in arranging our plot. A GOOD BEGINNING All authorities are agreed that the first essential in story-telling is to begin interestingly. The story must, as 30 MANUAL OF STORIES Miss Bailey says, have in it all the qualities that charac- terize a successful drama. "It must catch the attention of the audience the moment the curtain rises." Even in school, the social relationships of story-teller and listeners are such that attention must be earned, not demanded. When we are telling stories we must, like actors, court favor, for we have to do with "A court as of angels, A public not to be bribed, Not to be entreated, Not to be overawed." "In order to do this there must be no explanation, no descriptive scene, no painful dragging in of the plot. The child does not care a rap for the creating of atmosphere. He does not care how long ago the story events happened nor why they happened. What he is eager for is a quick story appeal made the second that the story curtain goes up." Therefore, she tells us, the story-teller must ask her- self some such question as this. "Does the story interest be- gin with my very first paragraph, my first sentence, my first word?" She cites, as an admirable example of recognizing this fact, a story-teller in a social settlement who had to deal with some street boys whose usual method, upon entering the room, was to throw down chairs and overturn tables and produce a scene of bedlam. The story-teller made no effort to control the boys. She simply stood in the cen- ter of the room, and when there was an instant's lull as they took breath for some more noise, she said, in a low, even tone of voice : "There was once a little Indian boy who rode fifty miles on the cow-catcher of an engine." This is what Miss Bailey calls catching the involuntary attention by appealing to a natural instinct. It would have been im- possible to secure the voluntary attention of those boys. She began just right, not with a man, not with a chieftain, but with a boy like themselves who had to do with some- How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN 31 thing that could go, who did a deed that they in their wildest dreams had never considered he rode an engine. The other day the writer turned to a new story-book, which opened as follows : "Once upon a time there was a boy. There, doesn't that begin like a fairy story?" Politely but emphatically, it does not. If you want to know what a fairy story begins like, turn to Edmund Leamy's "The Fairy Minstrel of Glenmalure" and this is what you shall read: "Kathleen and Emun were under the beech tree that stood in the hollow down near the stream. Kathleen was sitting against the tree trunk, stitching the sleeve of her dolly's dress. Emun was lying on his back, his hands under his head, his cap down on his forehead, and his eyes closed. " 'Emun, do you believe/ asked Kathleen, 'that there are any real live fairies now?' " 'I don't know,' said Emun, scarcely moving his lips. "Just then a beech nut fell and hit him on the nose. He opened his eyes, started up, looked above him, and saw, sitting on the fork of the tree, a little man, about twice the size of your finger, with a little three-cornered black hat with a red plume on it, and a little black coat and a red waistcoat, and little yellow knee-breeches, and white stockings, and little black shoes with gold buckles." It is hardly worth while to point out the difference. Leamy has something to say at once, he brings us immedi- ately close to his characters, the scene is full of charm and color, and we see at once that a lovely dream is just about to come true. ACTION AND SENSE APPEAL Now as to action. Miss Vostrovsky's suggestive study shows that in young children the interest in what was done leads all others, and that they put several times as much 32 MANUAL OF STORIES emphasis upon action as upon moral qualities, sentiment, feeling, esthetic details and dress combined, while the thought of the actors received no mention at all. It is well known that adolescent boys demand "something doing" in their books, and in adults interest in action has hardly de- creased. "For these reasons," says Edna Lyman, "let me urge you, when you are looking for stories to tell little children, to apply this threefold test as a kind of touchstone to their quality of fitness : Are they full of action, in close natural sequence? Are their images simple without being hum- drum? Are they repetitive? This last quality is not an absolute requisite, but it is at least very often an attribute of a good child-story." The analogy of the story to the drama has been spoken of. It is often helpful to the story-teller to conceive of his story as having scenes like a play. By doing this, he sees his story more clearly, builds it up more logically and brings it to a climax more effectively. When he has chosen his dramatic story, let him not decide that any arrangement is "good enough." Always preserving the author's text, he must consider not only rhythm, but the dramatic element, as he cuts the work to fit his time. A comparison of two versions of a paragraph from the "Thousand and One Nights" will illustrate the difference that can be sensed by the ear, as well as under- stood by the mind, and will serve to show how the improper cutting of a description may reduce the story to the com- monplace. "We heard the sound of drums and trumpets, warriors galloped about, and the air was filled with dust raised by the horses' hoofs." Sir Richard F. Burton renders as follows : "We heard the tom-toming of the kettle-drum, and the tantara of the trumpets, and the clash of cymbals, and the rattling of war- men's lances ; and the clamours of assailants and the clank- ing of bits and the neighing of steeds ; while the world was How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN 33 canopied with dense dust and sand-clouds raised by the horses' hoofs.'* The second, with its breathless hurrying to a pictorial climax, gives us the sight and sound of battle ; the first is colorless, and paints no picture for the inward eye. This appeal to "the inward eye" by descriptions that touch the senses is often the unrecognized but potent magic that gives a story its charm. We spoke in an earlier chap- ter of the interest of stories that have a sense appeal to little children. But we who are older are by no means insensible to this charm. We turn to the opening page of Stevenson's most careful story, "Prince Otto," and lo! how the skilful and crafty craftsman captures us at once with his subtle suggestion of sound and color and smell and even of taste. "The hum of watermills, the splash of running water, the clean odour of pine sawdust, the sound and smell of the pleasant wind among the innumerable army of the mountain pines, the dropping fire of huntsmen, the dull stroke of the wood-axe, intolerable roads, fresh trout for supper in the clean bare chamber of an inn, and the song of birds and the music of the village-bells these were the recollections of the Griinewald tourist." Perhaps the most lovely single page written in bur gen- eration occurs in Edward Thomas' "Life of Richard Jef- feries." It is a description of a hunt at evening. Note how the appeal is almost entirely that of the sense of sound, which the writer communicates in words of haunting melody in which the cadence of the horns accords with the music of the heart. " 'Yander they goo, up to Barbriam Caastle !' says the ploughman, checking his homeward jungling team. But the March afternoon is at an end, and it is too late to follow farther over the hill. The wind has fallen, and the black- bird sings at ease; the far away missel-thrush is almost as mild and sweet. A hare has stolen out, and in the still moist air before frost the violet scent is expanding. Then, 34 MANUAL OF STORIES suddenly, the huntsman's horn crackles upon the hill, splin- tering and tearing the solitude; a full, rich note follows, and goes to the heart of silence and into our hearts, too. Again and again a shrewd victorious note that seems the very essence of the red jackets that sprinkle the saddening slopes of Barbury Hill. It is almost night a most almighty quiet night, folding all those hills as sheep into a pen; yet the horn threatens it ; invades it, overthrows it, shooting to and fro in its sombre texture threads of crimson and gold. And the heart leaps up and is glad at this insult to the night, at the stinging music, at the large scene, and the horses and horsemen gigantic against the sky. To that horn blown at the edge of night and the edge of the world come all the hunters of the earth, as if out of the ground or the sea of time that washes the base of the Down ; and they are more than those dark hunters of the ridge, and stand among them, weaving strangeness and solemnity about them. The heart is a hunter still, and it has found a long-desired quarry, and is bringing it home with melody over the early world, as grim and illimitable as the level cloud-land in the west. But the ploughman and his team go on ; the horn has died away, and the hounds pass silently, like dreams when night is over and day is not begun." It is not claimed of course that children would listen to just this; these pictures are too painstakingly wrought, though there are some children who would be soothed by their very music. But much may be done in this direction. Hans Andersen knew this, and his stories are full of color and music and soft sounds. Do you remember how his "Wind's Tale" begins? "When the wind sweeps across a field of grass it makes little ripples in it like a lake; in a field of corn it makes great waves like the sea itself ; this is the wind's frolic. Do you see how the wind chases the white fleecy clouds as if they were a flock of sheep? Do you hear the wind down there, howling in the doorway like a watchman winding his horn ? Then, too, he whistles in the chimneys, making the fire crackle and sparkle. How How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN 35 cozy it is to sit in the warm glow of the fire listening to the tales it has to tell ! Let the wind tell its own story. Listen now." See how the buttercup's story in "The Snow Queen" fairly glows in buttercup color. "God's bright sun shone into a little court on the first day of spring. The sunbeams stole down the neighboring white wall, close to which bloomed the first yellow flower of the season; it shone like burnished gold in the sun. An old woman had brought her armchair out into the sun; her granddaughter, a poor and pretty little maid-servant, had come to pay her a short visit, and she kissed her. There was gold, heart's gold, in the kiss. Gold on the lips, gold on the ground, and gold above in the early morning beams!" THE CLIMAX "The Climax," says Miss Bryant, "is that which makes the story ; for it all that precedes has prepared the way. It is the point on which interest focuses. If a moral lesson is conveyed, it is here that it is enforced. Hence failure here means total failure. The reason why the 'good story' sometimes seems so dull when it is related by an apprecia- tive hearer is that he has missed the point in re-telling it. It is for this that the story exists, and skill in dealing with it counts more for success than at any other point." Just as important as a good beginning is a good ending. The most difficult place for some story-tellers to find seems to be a good place to stop. As Miss Cowles says : "Story- tellers sometimes remind one of a man holding the handles , of an electric battery. The current is so strong that he can- not let go. The story-teller must know when and how to 'let go.' " You need not apologize for your ending and you need not explain it. You need not tack on a moral just "let go" and "you will leave all the tingle and exhilara- tion of the magnetic current still in the face of your lis- tener." "When yer git through pumpin' lave go th' ha-andle." 36 MANUAL OF STORIES METHOD Now as to the method of telling a story. "How to tell a story?" says Mr. Wyche. "Tell it naturally, simply, directly. The audience, the place, the occasion and the story itself must in a large measure determine the way in which a story is told. However, there are some funda- mental psychological principles underlying all creative proc- esses, whether it be telling a story or building a house. In telling a story one must be able to see clearly the mental pictures in the story and be able to create the picture anew each time the story is told in words that are current with his audience. If the story-teller sees clearly the picture, he can make others see it. But the story has something more than imagery. It has emotion and one must feel deeply the truth in the story. Feeling more than anything else will give one a motive for telling the truth. Frequently a story is told more than anything else to impart feeling." So important is directness as a method that the follow- ing sentence from Miss Sara Cone Bryant seems to the writer to be the most valuable one ever written upon the subject : "I like to think of the story-teller as a good fellow standing at a great window overlooking a busy street or a picturesque square, and reporting with gusto to the com- rade in the rear of the room what of mirth or sadness he sees; he hints at the policeman's strut, the organ-grinder's shrug, the schoolgirl's gayety, with a gesture or two which is born of an irresistible impulse to imitate ; but he never leaves his fascinating post to carry the imitation farther than a hint." Someone speaks of "the artist telling the truth as if he were listening to it." That is what the story-telling artist must endeavor to do. This power of -visualising is frequently emphasized by Mr. Wyche : "We must be able to visualize, to see clearly How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN 37 the images, the mental pictures in the story. If we are to tell the story of Ulysses we must see him." Again he urges: "To the extent that the story-teller can imagine these scenes, creating them anew as he tells the story, to that extent can he make his audience see them. He may rest assured if he does not see clearly the mental pictures, his audience will not. If the picture is hazy and dim his words will be doubtful, inaccurate, and inartistic, but if he have a vivid mental picture his words will be graphic, and his use of them will give just the right shade and color, making the outward ring true to the inward. Therein is the difference in reciting a story and telling a story." So important is this point that we will quote one more authority, Partridge : "The story-teller must take his hear- ers enthusiastically to the scenes of the story and allow them to see for themselves and to share the vision with him." Story-telling is thus, incidentally, most educative to \ the story-teller. The story-teller is like the guide who at- / tempts to show Europe. He finds that he must not depend upon his haze of memories ; he must be able to state clearly, definitely and accurately the exact facts. It makes him a wiser man to be able to do it. So the story-teller discovers that perhaps he does not know the classics as well as he thought, that he has in fact forgotten the very point of a certain famous story, that he must keep up with his reading if he would keep in advance of his child. Story- telling has made many an adult ashamed of his reading, as he has noticed that his mental habits are to dwell in realms which would not be respectable company to a good story. In Hervey's "Picture Work," he gives the story-teller six sensible suggestions as to the story itself: See it. Feel it. Shorten it. 38 MANUAL OF STORIES Expand it. Master it. Repeat it. These terse phrases need, perhaps, little elaboration. There is no inconsistency between the advice to "shorten it" and "expand it." Where to shorten is when to omit irrele- vant details, where to expand is where details will touch the fancy and appeal to the imagination. THE RESULTS ARE IN THE FUTURE The story-teller can never know her full success. When she is telling a tale to a child she cannot see "Each little drop of wisdom as it falls Into the dimpling cistern of his heart," but she can perceive that the child is daily growing more imaginative, more thoughtful, and the citizen of a wider world than before. "Lads go singing on their way To Cambulo and far Cathay, Weaving dreams of high emprise Where cities strange shall meet their eyes. 'Go singing, merry masters.' " "Gray-head Magi in amaze Will list and marvel at the strays. Emperor and mandarin All vie their gratitude to win. 'Go singing, merry masters.' " V STORY-TELLING DEVICES "O, grown-ups cannot understand And grown-ups never will, How short's the way to fairy-land Across the purple hill; They smile ; their smile is very bland, Their eyes are wide and chill; And yet at just a child's demand The world's an Eden still." Alfred Noyes. Following are some miscellaneous but useful "tricks of the trade," each of which is given without much comment. GETTING ATTENTION If there is inattention it may be due to one of several causes. Perhaps some cannot hear. The informality of story-telling is such that the teller may move from the platform at the end to the center of the room, where if he will turn from side to side at times he will be nearer his audience and hold them better. A story-telling audience loves to sit on the edge of platforms, to double up in chairs, to nestle about the teacher anything that is unconventional and homelike. Sometimes the temperature of the room rises or the air becomes foul after the story-teller is part through his narrative. Children when near asphyxiation will keep attention to a good story better than to anything else but there are limits. Some children grow inattentive 39 40 MANUAL OF STORIES if they do not see the story-teller's face. Miss Cowles speaks of telling stories once when all the children but one were grouped at one side of the room with the adults on the other. The exception was a child of three who sat on his grandfather's lap on the "grown-up" side. The story- teller devoted her attention entirely to the children's side of the room. The moment the story was finished, a small voice from the neglected side of the room demanded, "Now tell it to me!" Each child wants to feel that the story is told to him, and this he does not feel if the story-teller turns away her face. By singling out the inattentive child and addressing him directly, even asking him a question after his attention is caught and he has the thread of the story, is an effective device. The worst possible defect of a story-teller is to get entangled in his story. It is this that makes the ignorant gossip so tiresome. He makes so many diversions and in- troduces so many irrelevant details that the listener is tired out trying to keep track of him. The trouble may be that the story-teller is really trying to tell two stories instead of one, and he can't get them unbraided. It may be that he hasn't a clear goal, that he thinks several bits of narrative strung together make a story, in fact that he hasn't a story to tell after all. It may be that he stops to toss a stone of attention at every object beside the road instead of plodding along through his story. At no time is such dallying more inexcusable than when one is ap- proaching an exciting place. It is a kind of going to sleep at the switch which ought to have the extremest penalties that are ever visited upon literary track-walkers. DIRECT DISCOURSE St. John says: "One of the most important of these literary devices is the use of direct rather than indirect dis- course. Through its use a certain vivacity of style is gained, STORY-TELLING DEVICES 41 and it adds movement and lifelikeness to the tale. There is no easier way to give the semblance of reality to an im- aginary tale than by letting the characters speak for them- selves. The personality of the narrator is less intrusive, and the effect upon the hearer is that of looking on at a scene in real life." DETAILS Miss Bryant says: "Explanations and moralizing are mostly sheer clutter. Some few stories necessarily include a little explanation, and stories of the fable order may quaintly end with an obvious moral. But here again, the rule is great discretion." In warning the story-teller not to introduce too many irrelevant details, we must not go to the extreme of having no details at all. Such items as to name, costume or char- acter which attract attention or satisfy the sense of humor are always liked and upon repetition are always demanded. One woman declared that when she was a little girl the story of the ugly duckling never seemed to her quite right if the old Spanish duck with the rag around its leg was left out. REPETITION The most important device, no doubt, is repetition. Says Miss Bryant: "The charm of repetition, to children, is a complex matter; there are undoubtedly a good many elements entering into it, hard to trace in analysis. But one or two of the more obvious may be seized and brought to view. The first is the subtle flattery of an unexpected sense of mastery. When the child-mind, following with toilful alertness a new train of thought, comes suddenly on a familiar epithet or expression, I fancy it is with much the same sense of satisfaction that we older people feel when in the midst of a long program of new music the 42 MANUAL OF STORIES orchestra strikes into something we have heard before." And Mr. St. John adds : "A very helpful device is the rhythmic repetition of certain significant words or phrases from time to time through the progress of the tale. In the fairy and folk-tales, this frequently appears, as in the case of the 'hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick,' of the little half chick, the 'trip-trop, trip-trop' of the three goats crossing the bridge, and the various remarks of the big bear, the middle- sized bear, and the little wee bear. In such cases, the story gains an added quaintness of form which has value in itself. The little child, puzzled by much that is unfamiliar, remem- bers the rhythmic phrase and welcomes it as we greet an old friend in a strange city." Of course the most valuable kind of repetition of a story is by the children themselves. Using the repetitious phrases as crutches to memory, they will be heard telling the stories over to their dolls or to their young playmates, who attend "with little listening hearts." Miss Meta Eloise Beall, who has had successful experience with story-telling hours for children, tells us how her method soon makes the children not only unconscious of themselves, but eager both to assist in the story-telling and to repeat and even go on with stories of their own: "I ask my grown-ups to be 'little folks just for the time being/ and it never fails to please. Then comes a story for the 'wee folks.' Whenever this happens to be a 'repetition' story, before I'm half through the children join in the part that repeats perfectly unconscious of the fact that there are many grown-ups near. In the Story Hour given here some of the children were so eager to tell themselves a story that I let them 'take the floor,' and they delighted everybody." The child's desire, through repetition, to be sure he masters his favorite story leads him to read it. "Not long ago I came upon a child with his head buried in the pages of a story which I had told him many times, and upon asking him why he was reading that story, he replied : Tm reading the things I did not understand when you told it/ STORY-TELLING DEVICES 43 The little one had understood the tale from the first, but in the intervening months his understanding had broadened to a fuller meaning of many of the expressions." RETOUCHING It is the privilege of the story-teller, when he has to do with a difficult subject or an objectionable incident, to do what the photographer does retouch. In the story of Jack the Giant-Killer, for example, it has come down to us through tradition that Jack is lazy, impudent to his par- ents and generally worthless, but finds a fate much better than he deserves. To children, however, he has always appeared as one of their favorite heroes, chiefly, no doubt, because they love the portrayal of great achievements by youths of their own age. In order that this impression may still be retained, it is certainly unnecessary to emphasize, or even to mention, the unfortunate traits in Jack's charac- ter. It detracts nothing from the story that he should be loving to his parents, that he should have, as was natural, shown some signs of manliness before his supreme test. Many a bad story may be redeemed by revision and right emphasis. ONE'S SELF AND THE STORY Says Miss Keyes: "The story-teller must not allow any intruding mental state or circumstance, any intruding 'self/ to come between the story and the listener. Such a self may be (1) The diffident or embarrassed self of the self- conscious story-teller. (2) The vain or affected self of the insincere story- teller. (3) The weakening self of the patronizing story- teller. 44 MANUAL OF STORIES (4) The non-seeing self of the non-spontaneous story- teller. (5) The non-sensible, or non-artistic, self of the 'sledge-hammer' story-teller. (6) The non-communicating self of the 'acting' story- teller. (7) The misinformed self of the lifeless story-teller." The parallelism between the art of the actor and that of the story-teller is in matter rather than in manner. The actor aj3galgto the eye chiefly and only secondarily to the jmagination, while the story-teller ^appeals chiefly to the imagmalion and only secondarily to the eye. ChildrerT al^uuaTly^anrioyed by elocution from a storyteller. Says Miss Cowles : "One might suppose that the personality of the story-teller must become aggressive ; that it is his work to give to the hearer especially his interpretation of the story. It is very easy to go wrong here. What is wanted is the story, not the story plus one's personal reaction to it. If the hearer becomes conscious of the teller's effort to impress something upon his mind, the attention becomes divided between the story and the teller." The actor shows himself performing the story, but the story-teller takes his hearers enthusiastically to the scene and allows them to see for themselves the events, in which their imaginations make themselves performers. This does not mean that a story-teller may use no ges- tures. Some persons cannot talk without gesturing, and natural gestures, that are not distracting, may help make the story vivid. But, if we may express it so, the listener is to put in what he feels rather than what he is; whatever he does is that he may become the interpreter, not the hero, of the story. So rhythm, tone, song may, if they fulfil the purpose just named, be helps in story-telling. Costumes are used by some story-tellers. The robe of an Oriental story-teller, the costume of a fairy godmother, a scholar's gown, have some value. Seen before the story-teller be- gins, they help create an atmosphere, and when it is ex- STORY-TELLING DEVICES 45 plained that they are the garb of a story-teller of a cer- tain nation or time they define that atmosphere and help the story-teller to sink into his own background. But an actor's outfit would be inappropriate and ineffective, be- cause a story-teller is not a n *rtv r Mannerisms are unfortunate because they bring to the fore the personality of the story-teller and are a distrac- tion. Twirling a handkerchief, fiddling with rings or pencil or arranging the dress may unconsciously lower the level of attention and annoy the children. LEISURE > The most frequent mannerism and one that is oc- casioned both by personal nervousness and by the contagion of the audience is that of hurrying. Nearly all amateur story-tellers speak too fast anyhow, not allowing for the slow apprehensions of the children and forgetting that what is familiar to themselves is entirely fresh to their hearers, and there is always the temptation, for the sake of creating an air of animation, or to carry the hearers enthusiastically through an exciting scene, or to drown out a child with whooping cough, or to be sure not to overstay the hour, to become almost breathless with speed of utterance. The result is that details get left out, points are not clearly made, the children get irritated and the story is not well told. A minister who was subject to this temptation used to write "Plenty of Time" in red ink at the top of every page of his manuscript. The story-teller having no manuscript cannot do this, but if he can imagine the clock saying it or can put a burdock in his pocket to remind him of the fact whenever he thrusts his hand inside, he may do as well. By slow and distinct utterance the tones become deeper and more modu- lated, there is a chance here for a sentence of fine descrip- tion, there to enhance the humor of the situation, and self- mastery to put one's best and not one's worst into the 46 MANUAL OF STORIES climax. "A story," says Miss Cowles, "should never be hurriedly told, any more than it should be hurriedly pre- pared/' St. John says : " 'Take your time.' This suggestion needs explaining, perhaps. It does not mean license to dawdle. Nothing is much more annoying in a speaker than too great deliberateness, or than hesitation of speech. But it means a quiet realization of the fact that the floor is yours, everybody wants to hear you, there is time enough for every point and shade of meaning, and no one will think the story too long. This mental attitude must under- lie proper control of speed. Never hurry. A businesslike leisure is the true attitude of the story-teller." STORY-TELLING WITH CHALK Story-telling by chalk talks is often effective. By this is meant not the elaborate drawings in colored crayons made by professional lyceum artists to the accompaniment of frivolous patter, but the few honest lines by which the amateur outlines his plot. It is. really only a more graphic gesturing, and the simpler the better. If only the artist will tell what his scrawls are meant for, the child will take them more seriously than they deserve. The least artistic can produce effects which enhance interest and encourage memory. It is not necessary to be able even to draw a face. A long perpendicular line will do for a man, a short one for a child; a few level lines suggest scenery, a few waving ones the sea, and so on. A more ambitious effort at details would be grotesque, but lines, as simple as a cave- man's drawing, are not grotesque but suggestive to imagina- tion. In some medieval frescoes a saint is pictured at sev- eral points in his career on one canvas. Here he is in peril, there he is healing the sick, yonder he is being buried and above he is in glory. The ancients saw no incongruity in thus assembling events that were years apart and that STORY-TELLING DEVICES 47 took place in more than one world. So it is well in telling a story with crayon which involves several incidents not to erase any "drawing" but to go on from point to point on the board marking out successive incidents, leaving all the sketches as an aid to reflection and memory. The child finds no incongruity in this. SHALL ONE MEMORIZE? On the whole, it seems best not to memorize a story. It is better to assimilate it. Assimilation allows full liberty in the telling, while memorizing tends to cramp and hinder. Having a certain story for your personal possession, you can then begin to formulate it. Often as you begin to tell it aloud you find yourself feeling for and discovering a scene which conforms to the proper style for this story. A happy phrase here, a pleasant turn of expression there, some interesting details at another point will build a body upon the skeleton with which you began. SPONTANEITY Perhaps some readers feel the fear which is some- times expressed that training in story-telling is a dangerous thing since what is gained in technique may be lost in spon- taneity. Edna Lyman says of those who have this fear that they fail to recognize what the real outcome of training is. It does, as she acknowledges, lead out of unconscious self-expression into a certain self-consciousness, but when the training has gone a step further, it is possible to lose self-consciousness again in the greatness of the art. Story- telling is spoiled not by too much training but because the story-teller needs more training. We say that story-telling is an art. This does not mean that it is to be taken so seriously that the story-teller loses 48 MANUAL OF STORIES his enjoyment in the recital or the child in hearing. You ask a child why he wants stories so often and he will an- swer, "Because I like to hear them." The only purpose of telling a story to a child is to give pleasure. Mr. Schiitze, professional story-teller, says that when he is telling stories he does not think of story-telling as a method of instruction but as an art, and that he tries to realize that he can make no real impression with a story, except through enjoyment. It is encouraging to know that it is possible for anyone of ordinary intelligence so to master the simple rules of story- telling that to tell a story will be a delight both to the speaker and to the hearer. THE CHILD'S PART IN STORY-TELLING It is just as important to notice what the child does as what the story-teller does. Angela M. Keyes suggests eleven possible responses which a given child may make to a story. They are these : "(1) It is listening. (2) It is remaining silent. (3) It is commenting. (4) It is joining in. (5) It is re-telling. (6) It is partially re-telling. (7) It is telling other stories. (8) It is inventing stories. (9) It is expressing sometimes story images in other media. (10) It is sometimes playing the stories. (11) It is growing by the power and grace of the story." If a child is simply listening, he may catch as he listens a wider and deeper vision of the story. If he is silent, he may be simply content, which is result enough, but he may STORY-TELLING DEVICES 49 be brooding and meditating, in which case it requires insight to know whether to leave him to himself or to try to en- lighten him further by explaining. If he is commenting by question or remark, be encouraged to know that his mind is active. It may be wholesome for that reason to have the children argue out, during the telling of the story, the moral issue which they see involved. If he is joining in by repeating after you the rhymes or melodies, be even more encouraged. If, when the story is over, he is willing to re-tell it, be happier still. If he re-tells a little each day until by and by he has mastered it, rejoice that, though his proc- ess of absorption is slow, it is sure. If he is telling similar stories or is expressing a story by dressing up or by enacting it in play, so long as the action is spontaneous you should be satisfied in realizing that he is practicing an art as beauti- ful and telling as your own. If, finally, he is growing by the power and grace of the story, then indeed you may have reason to hope that, as all good stories tell us in con- clusion, he will "live happy ever after." VI CONTINUED STORIES "'Next time' 'It is next time,' the happy children cry." Lewis Carroll. It is a good thing, after awhile, to settle down to a continued story. Beginning with Colonial times, I have portrayed the adventures of a certain Colonel Lindsay, who fought in the Revolution, and then went over the Allegha- nies to the Western Reserve and met a series of unparalleled adventures with the Indians in his home. To-night, for example, I am describing an attack on Marietta, that took place while our mythical hero was away. The eyes brighten as the gathering of the tribes is described. The children gather closer to me as Colonel Lindsay's capture far from home is related. The brave defense of the beleaguered garrison, under the lead of the Colonel's young son, brings cheers of approbation , which arouse the dog. Then there is the Colonel's skilful, silent escape, and his return in disguise to the neighborhood of his home. The children look into the fire as the great battle day comes with its wild charges, the rolling up of the farm wagons loaded with burning hay against the stockade, the break at the gate, and the almost miraculous appearance of the brave hero to save the day. We started with Lindsay as a lad, a scout under Washington in New Jersey saw him over the Alleghanies, stayed with his sons during the days of early settlement, and at last accounts we were dealing with his grandchildren in the times of 1812. We were over a year, at intervals, telling this story. So CONTINUED STORIES 51 THE CONTINUED STORY AS A DRAMA A continued story that is told should have a construc- tion similar to one which the child reads in a magazine. Each chapter should present a well-rounded incident upon which the child's memory and fancy may love to linger, but it must close with the suggestion of a still more inter- esting incident which is to follow. It must, to a degree, be complete, and, to a greater degree, be incomplete. If it is too complete, there will not be much interest left over for next time. If it is too incomplete, the children will insist upon hearing the rest at once. Edna Lyman suggests that the story of Joan of Arc may be successfully given in a cycle of five stories as follows: 1. The girlhood of Joan, the call of the "voices" and the visit to the Dauphin. 2. The attack and delivery of Orleans. 3. The defeat of the English and the crowning of the Dauphin. 4. The treachery of Paris and the capture of Joan. 5. Joan's trial and death. This arrangement resembles very much that of a five- act play. Similarly, she shows how the more difficult story of the Odyssey may be given in a cycle of eleven stories. 1. The adventures of Ulysses with the Cyclops. 2. The adventure at the home of the winds and the palace of Circe. 3. The Sirens and the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. 4. What happened in Ithaca and the search for Ulysses. 5. An island prison and a shipwreck. 6. Ulysses finds a princess washing clothes. 7. Ulysses at the court of Alcinous. 8. Ulysses' welcome at Ithaca, 52 MANUAL OF STORIES 9. Ulysses at home. 10. The trial by bow. 11. The end of the hero's adventures. Still better, it seems to us, this story could be con- densed to a five-act narrative. To do this, the first act would consist of story No. 1, the second of stories 2 and 3, the third of stories 4 and 5, the fourth of stories 6 to 8 and the fifth of stories 9 to 11. The minor stories would be reduced to incidents in the main current of action. Nearly all continued stories lend themselves to the four-act or five- act form. SERIAL STORIES CLASSIFIED BY AGES The author names below a few stories which seem to be good to tell serially. If the reader is surprised to note that certain tales which he thinks of as for adults are graded for children, he must remember that a story that is told may be simplified so as to apply to a much younger period than as if for reading, and that it forms an introductory acquaintance for later reading. The great years for listening to stories are of course the first three or four years after the child enters school, when his mind is awakening but he himself reads with difficulty. Accordingly, the largest number of stories listed below is for the years between six and nine. Younger children usually prefer a story complete in itself. Their memory powers not being fully developed, they like a story that is short, simple and full of repetition. There are a few stories, however, which have these qualities and yet which may be told serially. A few of these are listed below. At about the tenth year, there is usually a veritable fever among children for reading. There are, however, some boys and girls who do not like to read. A score of stories, full of action, wholesome in quality and stimulative toward personal reading, is given herewith. CONTINUED STORIES 53 Three to Six The Tale of Benjamin Bunny The Tale of Peter Rabbit Little Hare and Her Friends (Sykes) The Story of Joseph The Story of the Boyhood of David The Story of the Boyhood of Jesus Arabella and Araminta (Smith) The Roggie and Reggie Stories (Smith) The Brownies (Cox) The Adventures of Pinocchio Uncle Remus Stories Peter Pan Just So Stories Alice in Wonderland Six to Nine Perseus Theseus Jason Ulysses Thor, Loki and Balder Siegfried Cuchulain Hiawatha Beautiful Joe Robin Hood The Magic Forest (White') King Arthur Indian Boyhood (Eastman) The Faerie Queene Don Quixote William Wallace Robert Bruce Moses Charlemagne and Roland Saint Francis Richard the Lion-Hearted Henry of Navarre Drake and Raleigh George Washington Davy Crockett Daniel Boone David Livingstone 54 MANUAL OF STORIES Abraham Lincoln Doctor Grenfell The Arabian Nights Gulliver's Travels Robinson Crusoe Swiss Family Robinson Pilgrim's Progress The Nurnberg Stove Master Skylark (Bennett) Captains Courageous (Kipling) Little Women Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm Mother Carey's Chickens (Wiggin) The Widow O'Callaghan's Boys (Zollinger) Jack and Jill (Alcott) Little Lord Fauntleroy Jolly Good Times (Smith) Castle Blair (Shaw) The Prince and the Pauper Treasure Island Ivanhoe Oliver Twist Ten to Twelve King Arthur's Round Table The Story of Siegfried Last of the Mohicans Men of Iron (Pyle) The Deerslayer Rob Roy Lorna Doone Kidnapped Tom Sawyer Kenilworth Uncle Tom's Cabin Jean Valjean To Have and to Hold Helen Keller Henry Esmond The Story of Our Country (Based on Eggleston) The Island Story (Marshall) Scotland's Story (Marshall) VII PICTURE STORY-TELLING "You hold a gift That a mine of gold could not buy; Something the soul of a man to lift From the tiresome earth, and to make him see How beautiful common things may be." Lucy Larcom. Some of the world's greatest pictures are story-pic- tures. The "Sistine Madonna," the "Assumption," Murillo's "Beggar Boys" and the ''Gleaners" are not only good stones, but they are good stories seized by the artists at the greatest dramatic moments. It is not enough to leave a picture with a young child. "Usually," says Estelle M. Hurll, "their interest lasts only a moment, unless guided by an older companion. The child, untrained to concentration, flits from subject to sub- ject as a butterfly from one blossom to another. But let the mother begin to talk about the picture, and the child fixes eager eyes upon it and follows every word with breath- less attention. And 'talking about' a picture is simply letting the picture talk, provided, of course, that it is a story- picture." The value of picture story-telling is very great. Do you not recall the life-long interest and influence of some picture which hung upon the wall of your home in early childhood? Considering the strength of the influence of pictures, their choice should not be by accident. If it is ever right to look a gift-horse in the mouth, it is when 55 56 MANUAL OF STORIES some one proposes to add a new picture by gift to your home. And in choosing the pictures which you are going to purchase, ought you not to be glad to buy those which will be not merely bright spots or imitations of the choice of your neighbors, but shall have a meaning to the souls of your children as long as they live? In this age of the moving-picture show, in the main educational and even morally inspiring, there is all the more need for emphasizing pictures that do not move, that are still and silent and eternal. Both mind and heart that are disturbed and distracted "Like a tired child at a show That sees through tears the mummers leap Would now its wearied vision close" upon pictures that are restful and that share in the peace and shelter of home. One of our best story-tellers has observed that a child loves to have a picture which he can hold in his hand. We notice this touch-instinct in the eagerness which children have to handle every new object which is brought to their attention. So she purchases the little reproductions which can be bought for half a cent, and the children like them more than the penny pictures because they can handle them and love them. The picture-hour, therefore, need not be expensive. Perhaps the best way to introduce little chil- dren to pictures which they shall love is to get them one of the tiny reproductions on Perry picture or postcard and soon after buy a large framed reproduction for the wall. Very much of value as to the best methods of educat- ing children in good pictures may be learned from a study of the picture-interests of the children. We shall, here as elsewhere, be more successful if we work with Nature than against her. PICTURE STORY-TELLING 57 THE PICTURE-INTERESTS OF CHILDREN Young children are known to have a practically unani- mous interest in pictures of human beings. Ninety-nine per cent, of the drawings of little folks are of people. They have no conception of perspective, they do not notice de- tail (they will not observe that a figure is armless unless someone calls their attention to the defect) and they do not care for ornaments, but they begin with the head and face, they like to draw people in action, objects of daily use and things close at hand, and as soon as they are old enough to recognize pictures they so confidently expect them to move that they are often surprised in coming back to a loved picture to find that the positions of the figures have not changed. "He hasn't got him yet !" exclaimed the little fellow delightedly, when he saw that the crocodile had not yet caught the negro boy in the picture. Children between six and ten like to recognize in pic- tures the things they know, such as people, plants, houses and animals, and the hobbies in which they have begun to be interested. No feeling for landscape has been discov- ered before ten. They like narrative-pictures and good strong colors. Young people over ten begin to notice perspective and they observe detail more carefully. Yet before having had lessons they instinctively put human heads upon their ani- mals when they begin to draw, as if the human interest still dominated every other. They like now to portray fanciful and dramatic scenes, such as incidents in the stories they read and hear, battles, snow fights, fires, sports and games, and all the scenic side of life. With adolescence comes the first real love of beauty and an accompanying interest in quiet pictures of nature. There is still a strong liking for story-pictures, particularly those of romantic and symbolical character. They love now to trace out details and allegories, and to claim as their own pictures which they begin to cherish. 58 MANUAL OF STORIES This brief sketch suggests that at every age of child- hood it is the human interest and the story that win atten- tion. The subject is everything, the art with which it is pictured is nothing. There is before high-school years no technical criticism, little care for composition, selection or tone, and still less any desire to know of the history of art. SUGGESTIONS FOR PICTURE-STUDY Some points which are emphasized in school art-study are evidently unnecessary. We need have no care about putting pictures before children in chronological order ; we must not confuse picture-study with the history of art. We must not try too early to get children to care for pictures simply because they were painted by great artists. "Young children's votes," says G. Stanley Hall, "are never for the old masters, whose cult below the teens is only an air plant without a single vital root that strikes into their souls. It is a fool's paradise to fancy that there is anything in Michael Angelo, Raphael, Rembrandt, or any of the classic works of art that make much appeal to juveniles." In this connection we may urge that certain subjects which seem to be universally selected for children because of the con- ventional choice of adults may properly be ignored as of no actual interest to them. The Roman Forum in its ruins, the "sixteen" Madonna as one child wearily called it, and Prince Baltazar on (rocking) horse-back may be instanced. One quite feels in sympathy too with a writer in the Fore- runner who says, "To me, 'Mona Lisa' is a slimy-looking creature, and I mentally cross myself every time I look at her evil eyes." We need not worry much about Scripture or historical continuity, painters' biographies, appropriateness to season or relation to other school work; if they like a picture at all, they will like it at one time as well as another. It is apparently useless to show Corot, Constable, Diaz, Ruisdael PICTURE STORY-TELLING 59 to children under ten, who have no interest in landscape. It is a question whether separate portraits, like the well- known infant Stuart, the Penelope Boothby, the infant Sam- uel, are anywhere near as interesting as much less famous children in action. For a similar psychological (with no regard to the religious) reason we have probably overdone the Madonna, the Christ Child and pictures with people in unknown costumes. Since children have so little apprecia- tion of composition and tone, pictures whose chief charm is their color ought not to be shown in monochrome. Corot's "Springtime" may be instanced as a picture which in carbon is quite meaningless to a child. STUDYING PICTURES THROUGH THE STORY All this points the way to a neglected and most fruitful method of picture-study, the method of the story. Even the writers of the many current books on story-telling have hardly touched upon this union of literature and art in early education. It is true that Carolyn Sherwin Bailey in her "For the Story-teller" says that "It is to be questioned whether or not the story of The Little Red Hen' would have been awarded such immortality if its heroine had been a plain hen and not red.'' But she does not follow up the point by showing how much more graphic is the picture- book showing the red hen than even the most animated monologue about her. Some of our school-book publishers have begun to recognize picture-study in their reading books. The three Cyr readers published by Ginn & Company and some art readers, published by the Macmillan Company and the American Book Company, are the first endeavors to bring children into contact with good art by telling stories about great pictures which are interesting to little children. It may be objected that if we push forward the story- interest in pictures we shall not do justice to the higher artistic qualities. The higher artistic qualities will come 60 MANUAL OF STORIES later, but just as we do not give our children Robert Brown- ing and George Meredith until they come to them, so we should not give them the masters who appeal to mature minds until they are themselves mature. We can do justice both to art and to letters. If we bore the children with our picture-comment now, we shall prevent their continuing any live interest in the picture- world, but if we are as careful to give them the pictures they can appreciate as we do the books they can appreciate, we shall carry them with us up to the highest levels. THE CHOICE OF PICTURES FOR CHILDREN We may summarize our suggestions as to the choice of pictures for children, as follows : Give them pictures of people in action. Let the action suggest a story within their own experience or range of appreciation. Use colored pictures whenever possible, if it is reasonably good color. Ignore for the present the history of art, chrono- logical order, reference to technical details. For the sake of later impression choose pictures that are good if not great, honestly drawn, faith- fully colored, sincerely conceived. Avoid in the main the weakly sentimental, but post- pone until adolescence explanation why a child of Murillo is greater than one of Bouguercau, why a Madonna of Raphael is finer than one of Max, why a Botticelli is more beautiful than a Landseer. All this will come better through the work in drawing in the school, where honest drawing and color and clear-cut purpose or sentiment in the actual work of creating beauty will give the child a good sound taste and the power of discriminating for himself. PICTURE STORY-TELLING 61 THE METHODS OF STORY-TELLING THROUGH PICTURES Let us hold firmly in mind this thought, that the pur- pose of helping children to love pictures through stories about them is to create memories that shall last, as we hope, all their lives. We wish to make our children feel the im- portance of these pictures so much that they shall take them seriously and we want to tell our stories so well that ever afterward the story will recall the picture or the pic- ture the story. Let us suppose that the little child has come to our arms at the close of the day. We give him a small colored reproduction of a great picture to hold in his hand. As he looks at it curiously, we tell the story in an animated manner. We encourage him to ask questions about it. We tell him all that we know, or if we think it better to pique his curiosity, we promise to continue the story the following evening. After a day or two we bring the picture to him again and ask him to tell it to us. By this review the picture is fixed in his mind. The picture is hung low in the living-room or in the child's own room where he can see it. It is often referred to by the mother and the child is encouraged to show it to his playmates and to tell the story of it to others. Finally this picture, or a large repro- duction, is put in a permanent place and so becomes one of the treasures of the home and of the child. If a choice picture was introduced to a household after having under- gone the same scrutiny and being accompanied by the same tact and thought fulness as a human friend, it will take its place as one of the permanent friends of the home. With boys and girls between six and fourteen very much the same method may be used. In addition, it is often possible to refer the child to books, especially story- books or poems in which the story of the picture is told more in detail. It is the experience of public librarians that 62 MANUAL OF STORIES this method often allures many children who are not fond of books to read them with interest. Adolescence is the golden age for picture-study. In these days of idealism, it is Dr. G. Stanley Hall's opinion that "Art should not now be for art's sake, but for the sake of feeling and character, life and conduct. Such an oppor- tunity for infecting the soul with vaccine of ideality, hope, optimism, and courage in adversity, will never come again." And in another place he says, "Pictures that represent every noble passion writ strong and large should be shown and impressed. Art thus taught is perhaps the best of all initia- tions into adolescence. It is the chief regulator of the heart out of which are the issues of life." With adolescent young people a description of a picture may be left for their own reading. "See how much you can find in this picture" is also a good introduction by which parents may leave a reproduction with a young person with no further prelude or explanation. This opens the way to talk the picture over later and to see how much the boy or girl has gotten out of it. The laws of story-telling do not differ materially, whether one uses pictures or not "Introduce your thunder clap, your story hero in the first sentence," urges Miss Bailey. So with the picture, point at once to the central figure and tell some active thing about him. A good pic- ture, like a good story, generally starts in the middle, and from that point it is easy, having aroused interest, to work back to the beginning. In Leighton's "Captive Androm- ache," for example, to be shown and told to older young people, the beautiful, plaintive central figure at once appeals to the interest of the listener to know what came before which brought her into her present plight. From the central figure we pass to the minor charac- ters. They form successive chapters of the picture-story. In "When Did You Last See Your Father?" the descrip- tion of the sturdy lad in the center actually requires a de- PICTURE STORY-TELLING 63 scription of each other character in the room before the story is really concluded. In a story-picture landscape is always secondary to the human interest, and so this lesser attraction is dwelt upon only to emphasize the dramatic situation. In Boughton's pictures of the Pilgrims it is always the snow and the winter that emphasize the bravery of our forefathers. In "The Gleaners" the hot sun and the yellow fields, sug- gested even in an uncolored print, give force to the mean- ing of toil. Details also minister to the story or else they are irrelevant. Adolescents are peculiarly fond of study- ing out parables and analogies, and so Holman Hunt and Watts and many of the Pre-Raphaelites seem especially to belong to them. Attention is given to this interest in some of the pictures selected in the list below. With adolescents also we may show how composition or line or tone add even to the story-interest or complete the meaning of the artist. A high-school pupil can appreciate how the circles in the "Madonna of the Chair" and the curves in the Botticelli Ma- donna of the Louvre bring mother and child together and symbolize the encircling and secluding love of the mother. He can also see how the converging angles in "The Fighting Temeraire" suggest the idea of a ship advancing toward the right foreground of the picture. TWO PICTURE STORIES It may be helpful to give two short picture-stories which were prepared by the writer to accompany reproduc- tions of two well-known paintings. The pictures themselves are so familiar that they need not be reproduced here. The first of these is a story for little boys. The reader will note that the writer took considerable pains to collect all the facts concerning the picture and the painter which would be interesting to children, and that, in the course of the story, he calls attention to every possible detail of composition or color in the picture. 64 MANUAL OF STORIES "BOY AND RABBIT" By SIR HENRY RAEBURN, R. S. A., R. A. Sir Walter Scott was the most loved story-teller in Scotland and Sir Henry Raeburn was the most loved painter, and they were friends. Both of them lived in Edinburgh when they were boys. Sir Henry Raeburn was very fond of children and of flowers. One morning when he was walking in his gar- den, he saw over in one corner a little poor boy. When he went near to him the boy was much frightened, but he held up a piece of paper in his hand for Sir Henry to look at. Upon the paper was a sketch of one of the beauti- ful windows of Sir Henry's house, which this boy had made. He told the boy to come again, but to come next time through the gate and not over the wall. Afterward he helped this boy, who was a poor shoemaker's son in Edinburgh, by giving him lessons, and years later, when he became a man, this boy became a celebrated artist him- self. It was one of the boys who wandered into his garden that Sir Henry Raeburn was thinking of when he painted this picture. Perhaps it was this little shoemaker's son. Perhaps it was one of his own children, or grandchildren. This boy in the picture has been out in the garden in the early morning to pick some fresh leaves for his pet bunny, and he has picked some roses, too, for his mother. The rabbit, which is a white one with a brown spot on its back, has come out from its home in the shed to have its break- fast. The boy has put his arm around his pet because he loves it, and he looks up to see who is coming. He is look- ing right into the painter's face. This artist loved to paint people with their faces in the light and full of joy and health. He wanted to picture them at their best. Do you notice in what beautiful clothes the painter has PICTURE STORY-TELLING 65 dressed this boy? You see, he has on a shirt of some soft white material, with a sailor collar that opens wide in the front. His trousers are bright-colored and his black cap is put on a little one side. Do you not think this lad has a beautiful face and a pleasant smile ? After he has fed his rabbit he will carry the flowers in to his mother, and they will have their breakfast to- gether. When Henry Raeburn had become famous, King George IV, who made Walter Scott a knight, came to Scot- land and knighted his friend, the painter, too. The year before that the artists of England gave him the highest honor they could : they made him a member of their Royal Academy. When anyone has this honor given him, he must give the Academy one of his best paintings. Sir Henry Rae- burn painted many famous people, but the picture he gave the Royal Academy was this "Boy and Rabbit." The second story will perhaps be more interesting to girls. In this case, too, details as to painter, character and purpose were collected. Color and composition are pointed out with considerable care and the natural opportunity for a sweet and simple lesson is taken advantage of in the course of the story. "THE AGE OF INNOCENCE" By SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, P. R. A. Does it seem possible that the most charming pictures of children ever painted were made by an old bachelor? Yet he was such a loving old fellow that Samuel Johnson said to him once : "Reynolds, you hate no one living ; I like a good hater !" We are told that his great house was often full of children and that he kept special toys and sweetmeats on hand with which to amuse them. It was certainly a 66 MANUAL OF STORIES great honor when he chose one of his little friends as the subject of one of his paintings. This is said to be the picture of his little grandniece. She must have been about six years old when this picture was painted. The picture tells its own story. She has been running about barefoot all the morning. She awoke with the birds and went out among them, watching the sunshine leap and play. The clouds were as white as curds and the trees were like great bouquets. She knew where all the flowers grew. She ran down through the meadow to pluck some of them before breakfast. All the morning she was in the garden and with her playmates, rolling her hoop, tossing her ball and playing with her little friends. I think they have been chasing her in a game and that she has sat down under a tree, all breathless, to rest a minute. When she puts her hands against her breast she can feel her heart beating hard. As she sits there, she hears a sky- lark, and the loving painter caught her just as she was listening to its beautiful song. To the picture of this little girl, with the sweet face and the lovely, unspoiled nature, Sir Joshua gave the name, "The Age of Innocence." He dressed her in a spotless gown as simple as her purity. There is just a touch of pink at her waist and in her hair to match the tint of her cheeks. The dear painter no doubt agreed with the poet who said of a little girl child like her, that she had "the- spirit of all dews and flowers and springs and tender sweet wonders." Or, perhaps, he had read the Lithuanian legend that when the Lord God had made the first man and the first woman and had set them in Eden, He grew lonesome because there was no music from any soft, small throat. So "He took of the sun a golden beam, And He took the carol the red-breast sings; The ripple He took of a clear, cool stream, And the shining down from a ringdove's wings ; And a rose and a lily He took, and smiled, As He mixed them up and He made a child," PICTURE STORY-TELLING 67 And when the man and the woman went away from the Gar- den, the child stayed, and he is singing in the Garden yet if we only knew the way to find him. THE PERMANENT VALUE OF PICTURES When the pictures, so studied and thus loved, have been permanently placed in the home, they take their place as part of its spiritual furnishing. Read earnestly this word which Parker and Union say in their 'The Art of Building a Home": "Understanding something of the true meaning of art, we may set about realizing it, at least in the homes which are so much within our control. Let us have such ornament as we do have really beautiful, something which it has given pleasure to the producer to create and which shows this in every line. Let us call in the artist . . . and bid him paint on our walls landscapes and scenes which shall bring light and life into the room; which shall speak of nature, purity and truth; shall become part of the room, of the walls on which they are painted, and of the lives of us who live beside them; paintings which our children shall grow up to love, and shall always connect with scenes of home with that vividness of a memory from childhood which no time can efface. . . . Let the floor go undecorated, and the wood unpainted that we may have time to think, and money with which to educate our children to think also. Let us have rooms which once decorated are always decorated, rooms fit to be homes in the fullest poetry of the name; rooms which can form backgrounds, fitting and dignified, at the time and in our memories, for all those little scenes, those acts of kindness and small duties, as well as the scenes of deep emotion and trial, which make up the drama of our lives at home." 68 MANUAL OF STORIES MORAL EDUCATION THROUGH PICTURE- STORIES The opportunity for direct moral training through pic- tures has been neglected. Modern education is emphasiz- ing the central importance of the feelings as the background of interest, habit and will. The writer remembers a steel engraving of "The Three Graces," which he has learned later was from an artist named Hicks, a most unlikely pic- ture to attract the attention of a boy ; yet it seemed to him that the Charity with lambent eyes in the center was his ideal of unimpassioned perfection, while the eager Hope in the foreground held all that was winsome, and the whole group was steadying and inspiring. Especially does the new interest in detail cause the youth now to search out and remember every moral implication in a picture. Says Miss Hurll: "To search out all the charming accessories of a Dutch interior is almost like unpacking a stocking full of Christmas toys." And the parables of Holman Hunt and the allegories of George F. Watts and the romantic sug- gestions of Millais and Leighton seem almost evangelic in their influence upon young people. Particularly in its portrayal of the beauty in common things does art teach us the great commonplace virtues of fidelity and contentment. Lowell tells us : "As with words the poet paints, for you The happy pencil at its labor sings, Stealing his privilege, nor does him wrong, Beneath the false discovering the true And Beauty's best in unregarded things." We have all of us not only learned more about the de- tails of the life of Jesus from pictures than we have from the Bible, but we have perhaps absorbed fully as much about his attitude, his ideals and his activities from the former source as from the latter. Reproductions of sacred art have begun to be used in teaching the story of Jesus and also the history PICTURE STORY- TELLING 69 of the Old Testament. Why do we not go a step further and study morals through well-selected pictures which illu- minate the great cardinal virtues? If we can help the chil- dren to love them, and if further they can own them, are we not directly helping to give them those permanent in- spirations which came to ourselves, largely through acci- dent, by the old home-pictures ? Some of these pictures they will no doubt outgrow, but they will hardly outgrow their influence, and in later time they will love them over again as relics of a cherished but an almost forgotten child- hood. The use of pictures for moral ends is not different from that for artistic ends. The child in either case must love the picture and understand it before it can influence either mind or soul. A good picture, like a good story, should point its own moral, and it is as sinful to "tag a moral" to a picture as Dr. Henry van Dyke tells us it is to a story. The very questions that bring out the artistic detail will impress the lesson which the artist is teaching, and time and reflection will do the rest. A number of the pictures which have been named at the close of this chapter are most useful in the suggestion of heroic character, patient endurance or generous achieve- ment. They are especially the pictures too that will last, and so have a lasting influence. In collecting them for this purpose it is helpful to reinforce their moral suggestive- ness by choice quotations, easily memorized, which will be remembered with the picture. The alert teacher of religion will note how many such pictures have an important place for use as comparisons in teaching Scripture biography. By analogy of circumstance or virtue they may be help- fully used in Bible study. A few of these suggested analo- gies are as follows: "When Did You See Your Father?" to accompany the story of Daniel. "Nathan Hale" to accompany the story of Stephen. 70 MANUAL OF STORIES "The Fighting Temeraire" to accompany the story of Paul. "Christ or Diana" to accompany the story of the mar- tyrs. "Washington Laying down his Commission" to ac- company the story of Moses. "Angels in the Kitchen" and "Lavabo" to suggest the topic, Religion in Common Life. "Saint Christopher" to suggest the thought, Disciple- ship. "Christ in the Temple" to suggest the thought of the religious committal of youth. "Light of the World" to suggest the thought, Conver- sion. "King Arthur's Round Table" to suggest the thought, Consecration. "Is It Nothing to You ?" to suggest the thought, "nobler loves and nobler cares." "St. Ursula's Dream" and "The Gleaners" to suggest the thought, Fidelity. "The Lark" to suggest the thought, Worship through Nature. "Robert Louis Stevenson" to suggest the thought, Friendship unto death. "Feed My Lambs" to suggest the thought, Brother- hood. "The Angelus" and "The Never Ending Prayer" to suggest the Lord's Prayer. "Herakles Wrestling With Death" and "The Sea Gave up Its Dead" to suggest Immortality. As young people grow older, there is direct moral in- fluence in causing them to realize the deeper meaning of the struggle of the artist or of the history of the picture. If a young person can come to see the obstacles of the times in which the artist lived, the lack of appreciation which he met, the seriousness of his effort, the conquest over his ad- PICTURE STORY-TELLING 71 versaries, the beauty which shone through his primitive technique, the great spiritual thought which was underneath his work, then the very soul of the picture may enter into his soul. In his chapter on "The Personal Element" in his fine book "The Meaning of Pictures," Dr. J. C. van Dyke assures us that "the man be he weak or strong, good or bad, noble or ignoble, serious or flippant eventually appears in his work." And he says further, "The frank statement of personal feeling or faith in an artist, the candid autobiography, has done more to show people how to live than all the long volumes of scientific history." It does a young person just as much good to come in contact with a great life in a picture as in a biography, and here is the moral inspiration that Ruskin believed in when he in- sisted that admiration of great pictures helps us to "become able to rejoice more in what others are than what we are ourselves, and more in the strength that is forever above us than in what we can ever attain." A LIST OF STORY PICTURES The following list is in no sense the "best one hundred pictures" for the ages represented. It is simply a list that illustrates the points which have just been made. It in- cludes some pictures chosen partly because they are not so well known as others. The abbreviations in the third column indicate the pub- lishers. Their names, addresses and the prices of their pic- tures are as follows : Institute, American Institute of Child Life, 1714 Chestnut St., Phila., 20c. Perry, Perry Pictures Co., Maiden, Mass., Ic. Cosmos, Cosmos Pictures Co., 119 West 25th St., New York, 25c. doz. Reinthal, Reinthal & Newman, 106 West 29th St., New York, 5c. Detroit Pub. Co., Detroit Publishing Co., Detroit, Mich., 5c. Gross, Edward Gross Co., New York City, 5c. Chicago Museum, Chicago Museum of Art, Chicago, 111., Sc. 72 MANUAL OF STORIES Children Up to Six Boy and Rabbit Raeburn Feeding Her Birds Millet Scene in a Courtyard De Hooch Mother and Daughter Le Brun The Blessing Chardin The Pantry Door De Hooch Bedtime J. W. Smith The Shepherd's Chief Mourner Landseer The Age of Innocence Reynolds By-lo Baby Bunting Burd Katinka, the Little Dutch Girl Institute Perry / Cosmos \Reinthal Reinthal Reinthal Reinthal Cosmos Institute Institute Institute For Children Seven to Fourteen Young Raleigh When Did You Last See Your Father ? The Never-Ending Prayer The Doctor "I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes Unto the Hills" The Lion of Lucerne Cinderella Peter Pan Making the First Flag The Drums of the Fore and Aft Frank and the Ponies The Story of the Porringer Millais fYeames Maes Fildes ^Taylor Thorwaldsen Dulac Mosler Statz Detroit Gross /Perry \Cosmos Institute Institute Institute Institute Institute Institute For Young. People Fourteen to Twenty The Child in the Temple Hunt The Fighting Temeraire Turner Captive Andromache Leighton Christ or Diana Long The Angelus Millet The Shadow of Death Hunt The Gleaners Millet /Perry "^Cosmos Reinthal Institute Perry Cosmos Perry Perry PICTURE STORY-TELLING 73 Sweet and Low Taylor Gross The Song of the Lark Breton Chicago Museum The Aztec Bride Leigh Institute The Charge of the V. M. I. \ T ., Cadets Institute The Light of the World Hunt Perry A list of books containing picture-descriptions and sug- gestions for explaining pictures to children is given in Ap- pendix III. VIII THE RELATION OF STORIES TO PLAY "Once more the children throng the lanes, Themselves like flowers, to weave Their garlands and their daisy-chains And listen and believe The tale of Once-upon-a-time, And hear the Long-ago And Happy-ever-after chime Because it must be so." Alfred Noyes. The relation of a child's play to his favorite stories has been made a special study by Prof. H. M. Burr of the Y. M. C. A. Training College at Springfield, with the idea of taking advantage of its possibilities in education. He has planned a graded course in stories as follows: "1. Race stories, especially Teutonic myths, legends and folklore. Stories appealing to the imagination and illustrating the attempts of the child race to explain the wonders of the world in which he lives. "2. Stories of nature ; animal and plant stories. "3. Stories of individual prowess ; hero tales, Sam- son, Hercules, etc. Stories of early inventions. "4. Stories of great leaders and patriots. Social heroes from Moses to Washington. "5. Stories of love, altruism, love of woman, love of country and home, love of beauty, truth and God." 74 THE RELATION OF STORIES TO PLAY 75 He suggests the possibility of associating with these stories, as appropriate means of expression, activities as follows : "With nature stones, myths, and legends would be asso- ciated tramps in the woods and every variety of nature study ; care of animals, plants, etc. "With stories of individual prowess would be asso- ciated the individualistic games, athletic and gymnastic work for the development of individual strength and ability, also, constructive work of the more elementary type, work with clay, knife work, basket weaving, etc. "With the stories of great leaders and patriots would be associated games which involve team play, leadership, obedience to leader, and subordination of self to the group. "With the altruistic stories would be associated altruis- tic efforts in behalf of boys who are less favored." We are convinced that some such correlation is uncon- sciously attempted by many children between their play and their reading. It may well be carried further by the con- scious endeavor of parents and teachers. THE STORY GAME "Story motivates the child and play expresses him," says Mari Hofer. This is the deeper correlation, and the one with which we are most familiar. In the home, in the writer's observation, story-telling soon develops a particular kind of self-activity, which might be called the story game. A good story would be acted out as a play the next Satur- day. If the children saw a good drama, they insisted on adding some more acts to it at home. They begin to write stories themselves. I have bor- rowed the following account of an actual method from my "The Coming Generation." You should have a big blank book, on the title page of which you may write, "The New Crusoe." 76 MANUAL OF STORIES First, we imagine that we have been wrecked on an unknown island, and while we are drawing a rough sketch of the wreck, the children are deciding the best things to take ashore. Of course, in the haste of leaving, it is hard to think of everything, but as we cannot supply any needs later, except by our own ingenuity, we must be as self- possessed as possible. The leader's part all through is to listen and put down what is decided upon. He makes no suggestions himself, unless everybody else is cornered. Indeed the story almost tells itself. Each night the map of the country may be extended as far as they have explored it. The children shall name all the points of interest. Several maps will be needed before we get through, to show particular districts more clearly. We camp the first night close by the shore under a tent of old tarpaulin. We are busy for a week in bringing our goods ashore before the ship broke up. But our tent was entirely unsheltered, and far from fresh water. As soon as we had cleared the wreck of everything, even the bolts and beams, we began to take short exploring trips. We followed up wandering Wiggle Brook until we came to a cool spring in the forest, on a considerable hill. This hill, since we found in the mud near the spring a human foot- step, we named Foot-step Hill. Here we pitched our camp, hither removed our possessions. After a while we pastured our flocks and herds in the Grassy Meadow to the east of us, but being much troubled by wild beasts, and still fearing wild men, we finally re- moved our whole establishment to a Tree House and stock- ade which we built on the higher hills farther from the water. We still overlooked the sea, however, and our American flag waved constantly aloft as a signal to any passing ship. There is not time to tell you of the strange way a young Prince of the Island came and made his home with us, and first made us aware of the bloodthirsty tribe that lived over the lofty Donjon Mountains toward the south. Nor can I THE RELATION OF STORIES TO PLAY 77 relate the life story of the venerable white hermit, believed by those savages a demon of witchcraft, who dwelt at the top alone, in his mountain cave. Are not all these written in the Chronicles of the New Crusoe by Archie, Davie, and Jack? The story still goes on. Often we take up the book and find, in a child's laggard handwriting, a new adventure or a bold sketch of some fresh affray. At any time of day or night, one needs only make some such remarks as, "Do you remember what we did the morning we found the charmed necklace at the foot of the tree in the stockade?" and they are off like a shot. Some- times they seem to live two lives alongside at once. All this, as may be imagined, makes an introduction not only to good books, but also to fullness of life. The way stories run on into dramatic play is subject for another monograph. The author once had an experi- ence with a group of boys who became interested in Hia- watha and wanted to dramatize it. He supposed it was to be a month's task, but the preparations, involving all kinds of handicraft in scene-making and costumes, took all winter. There was, in his experience, hardly a lively story that did not appear soon in his children's play, and sometimes in dis- tinctive dramatic efforts in the way of "family shows," that were both respectable and amusing. STORY-PLAYING ON SUNDAY This sort of dramatic-play-story telling is especially appropriate to the quiet home occupations of Sunday. In a little book by John T. Paris, entitled "Pleasant Sunday Afternoons for the Children," published by the Sunday School Times Co., two actual instances of such story-play are given, one for outdoors and one for indoors. "The children liked to illustrate Bible stories as they gathered in the shade. Mother, sitting in her rocker, would 78 MANUAL OF STORIES assign a little space in which they could fit up a Garden of Eden, and while the children went here and there through the yard to find little branches for trees and clover or other wild blossoms for flowers, she could catch many moments for her own reading. When these branches and flowers had been set up in the grass in the place assigned, and the children's imagination had transformed it all into a beautiful Eden, mother would again come into demand to prepare a whole menagerie of animals all cut out roughly with scissors from common newspapers, varying little in shape, but easily transformed, by imagination, into creatures which the children took pleasure in naming. A paper man and woman were last made, and the whole story gone over care- fully, the children themselves telling it. "The story of David and Goliath was one they par- ticularly enjoyed the whole thing being made very vivid by tents for the two armies (just points of paper with a common base, which could be grouped in any desired shape in the grass), soldiers galore (paper dolls cut as our mothers used to cut them with hands and bodies joined), the tall Philistine with his large spear and the diminutive David with his sling. ''The baby Moses in the bulrushes furnished a beautiful lesson of God's care for the children. How interesting to weave the little basket from grasses gathered by the boys ; to imagine the tiny flower placed within it to be the baby Moses ; to set the ark among the imaginary rushes, in an imaginary river; and to place another flower in hiding to represent the devoted sister who daily watched the little ark with its precious occupant! "In stormy or wintry weather the game may be played indoors as follows: Let two or three breadths of carpet represent the Holy Land, while two strings running parallel form the Jordan River; drawn apart, these may represent the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. Let the site of Jeru- salem be marked by a temple made of building blocks. A small rug or a piece of cloth will serve as a wilderness." THE RELATION OF STORIES TO PLAY 79 Here is the indoor plan. "Nearly every child has a box of blocks, and from these a Noah's Ark can be constructed while telling the story. Then, taking paper and scissors, fashion paper dolls of various sizes to represent Noah's family, or you can purchase the little wooden images of men if you desire. In simplest forms cut as many different animals as you have in mind. Clip the limbs and turn the leg pieces to right and left, that they may stand, to form the procession as they march into the ark. "The building of Solomon's Temple is another block device ; the picture of this may be found in any Bible dic- tionary, or you can procure the special Temple building blocks. So, too, one may help the little fingers to make a sheepfold, a well, an Eastern house with flat roof, the Old Testament Altar of Incense, the Ark of the Covenant (with crochet needles for the staff handles) and other objects of interest that will carry stories with them. "Childish? Yes, it is for the little child." The same animals, as the Sunday School Times book points out, may be used to illustrate stories from other parts of the Bible. Here is a list of a few of them. A little study will suggest more incidents in connection with the different animals. The children should always do their part, by find- ing the different animals to illustrate the story : A LIST OF STORIES AND PLAYTHINGS Story of the Ark. Story of Joseph. Gen. 6:14, 18-21 " 7:13-16 ARK " 8:6, 7.. RAVEN " 8:8-12 DOVE Gen. 37:2-36 JOSEPH " 37:25 CAMELS " 37:31, 32 GOATS " 42:1-26 ASSES " 42 :27, 28 " 41:2-4, 17-21, 26-31. .CATTLE " 45:19-25 80 MANUAL OF STORIES fl Sam. 16:1-12, 17:12-33. . .DAVID Story of David -I LION 17:34-37 BEAR Story of Queen of Sheba \ 1 Kings 10:1-10, 13 CAMELS Story of Rebekah J Gen. 24:1-59 Story of Shunammite Woman, -j 2 Kings 4 : 18-37 Ass , _,.. . Jl Kings 17:1-24 RAVENS Story of Elijah j 18:17 _ 39 BULLOCK Story of Daniel 4 Dan. 6 :l-22 LION Story of the Shepherds -j Luke 2 :8-20 SHEEP Story of Wise Men -j Matt. 2:1-14 CAMELS Story of Christ -f Matt 21:1-11 ^.Ass IX DRAMATIZING STORIES Hamlet. What players be they? . . . Rosencrantz. An aerie of children, little eyasses, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped f or't ; these are now the fashion. Hamlet. What! are they children? Who maintains them? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing. William Shakespeare. Miss Bailey tells of a little girl of three who had been told by her nurse the well-known tale of "The Old Woman and Her Pig." A week later she was discovered, alone, standing dramatically in the center of the room, holding a toy broom under her arm, and shaking her finger at a small china pig that stood on the floor in front of her. She was saying over some words very energetically. "What are you doing?" asked her surprised mother. "I'm doing a story, mother," she replied. This instinct to do a story is universal, and it is very valuable. It illustrates again that axiom of education, Learning by doing. The child apprehends and holds much better that which he acts than what he merely hears. We saw the earliest expression of this instinct in our chapter on "Stories That Children Like," where ringer plays and action stories were the first kinds of stories enjoyed by babies. The baby himself was the rider on the cock horse, his fingers were the mice or the birds that crept or flew. 81 82 MANUAL OF STORIES DRAMATIZING STORIES IN SCHOOL This method is being employed in primary school, and where the teacher selects not merely what may be drama- tized but what should be dramatized the result is very happy. Julia Darrow Cowles in her "The Art of Story- Telling" gives a story entitled "A Lesson of Faith," and then shows how naturally and pleasantly one child after another will be selected to be the Caterpillar, the Butterfly, the Lark, etc. She shows the possibility of correct repre- sentation, which teaches close observation, when she re- minds us that the child can learn to remember that robins hop but crows walk. Dr. Arnold Gesell has shown how the power and range of such representation in a primary room develops: "Very soon the class will not be content with one player. The boy who is trying to represent the monkey will suggest that he have a hand-organ man; the hen will want chickens, and the scene will go naturally and easily without dictation. It is interesting to see how the children grow in power of representation and suggestion, and how naturally language begins to be the necessary accompani- ment of gesture. The language of the children will be pictorial and full of unexpected terms and phrases. At this stage of the work it will be found helpful to put a screen between the player and the class. Such a device adds a little mystery to the play. The effect that such work may have upon voice culture is most significant." The next step will be stories with simple plot. In perform- ing these it is not necessary to memorize, and it is undesir- able to do so. Miss Fry in her "Educational Dramatics" describes in a vivid way how a story-play evolves. Here is a bit of her monologue, in which we can easily imagine the interruptions of the children. The play is a variant of the Cinderella story: "Good ! Let's begin with the Market-Place ! And the DRAMATIZING STORIES 83 crowd is there, as the story says. What will the crowd be doing? Buying and selling, and walking about and gossiping, as crowds always do anywhere ! Yes ! We can have chairs about, to be the shops, and Cicily will be in the crowd, of course, shabby and shy, because she is poor, and no one notices her. Oh, no! Not unhappy, because she is a merry creature, even if she is poor ! Bare- foot ? I s'pose so ! Rags ? Oh, let's plan the whole story first and what they do, and then think about clothes and other things, or we never shall be through and doing it ! "Now what happens? The Bellman's bell can sound outside the Square just as in the story, and we can hear him calling, 'Oh, Ye's! Oh, Ye's!' and the bell really ringing. Then what will happen ? The Bellman will march in, yes ! Ringing and calling, all the people of the place will come running, as the story says. What a lot more fun it will be to be doing it than just hearing about it! Oh, yes! of course they chatter at him. The story does not say that, but any one would know it." STORIES THAT ARE EASILY ACTED Mrs. Braucher recommends for story-playing the fol- lowing stories, some of which lend themselves to a more permanent form of acting: Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Hansel and Gretel. Jack and the Beanstalk. Snow White. The Elves and the Shoemaker. Eleven Wild Swans. Red Shoes. The Cat and the Parrot. The Golden Goose. 84 MANUAL OF STORIES King Arthur and Excalibur. The Hole in the Dike. Mrs. Lillian Edith Nixon, in her "Fairy Tales a Child Can Read and Act," recommends for children up to the second grade several stories as suitable for dramatizing: Little Red Riding Hood. Peter and the Magic Goose (original). The Blue Peacock. The Ant and the Cricket. Hansel and Gretel. Stories from Pinocchio. Scenes from Alice in Wonderland. Scenes from Through the Looking Glass. The following stories are so arranged as to bring first on the list those for young children and those that may be most easily dramatized and acted. They are furnished by the Carnegie Library of Pittsburg. Story of the Three Bears. The Elves and the Shoemaker. Epaminondas. Bremen Town Musicians. Cinderella. Why the Chimes Rang. The Sleeping Beauty. Hansel and Gretel. Piper Tom. Snow White. The Pied Piper of Hamelin. How Good Gifts Were Used by Two. Gudebrand on the Hillside. Hans in Luck. What the Gudeman Does is Sure to be Right. How the Robins Came. DRAMATIZING STORIES 85 Persephone. Old Pipes and the Dryad. The books containing the stories referred to in the foregoing list are named in a special monthly bulletin of the library for December, 1913, which may be secured for 5c. By this time the play of the children begins to show the tendency to dramatize stories. They make believe that they are horses or heroes, they use their dolls as characters in free play of a story sort, they make backgrounds and accessories out of their playthings. They even carry on the narrative from day to day, evolving and changing the plot as they proceed. Instances of this are given in my "Manual of Play." They very commonly create imaginary playmates, and thus dramatize the actual life which they live. THE PUPPET THEATER A completer expression of the desire to enter the world of imagination and people it with tangible personalities will be described in full in the story of Mary Lowe's bottle people in Part II. Another method which would probably seem a little more sophisticated than bottle-doll story-telling is that of the puppet theater. Nobody knows how old are the marionette theaters of Italy, which are attended still by old and young. We cannot trace back the origin of the Punch and Judy show, which represents an art well worth perpetuating but almost lost to us. Thirty years ago somebody put on the market a "Little Theater," with its proscenium, its drop curtain, wings, scenes and actors, furnished with play-sketches and adaptable to an infinite variety of original dramas. To an experienced bottle-doll artist such a miniature theater with its actors would be an easy task, and the suggestion of mystery in the curtain, the dramatic suspense occasioned by waiting for changes of scene and the opportunity for assuming the voices of 86 MANUAL OF STORIES several characters are tempting to a young Thespian. One may wonder why adult story-tellers do not revive in some form the puppet theater as an adjunct to some of their more dramatic tales. CHILDREN'S DRAMATICS "Dressing up," pantomimes, "statues," dumb crambo, charades, are familiar expressions among children from eight to twelve of the dramatic instinct to do a story. Miss Perry suggests groups of plays, each one acted by one child only, which she names "Garlands." For instance, when grandmother comes to make a visit, she may be wel- comed with a garland of greetings. Each child represents something that is glad to welcome grandma, and all encircle her as they do so. One is a chicken, and struts and flutters, and one is a flower and spreads her skirts and acts like a flower. Miss Patten suggests that older children should enhance the family reunions by acting together the family history. One boy brings down his grandfather's uniform and enacts his military record, or all dress in their parents' wedding garments and impersonate their marriage ceremony, or re-enact in a good-natured way some of the family jokes. Of amateur theatricals, which are of course the most elaborate way of dramatizing stories, there is no need to speak. A list of story-plays for children and of books on dramatics is given in Appendix IV. THE STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: IMAGINATIVE STORIES HOW TO GRADE SUCH STORIES One mistake that is made by those who plot out charts for the moral training of children is that of assigning certain virtues to definite years. In a certain chart, for example, obedience may be dated as appropriate to the fourth year, when, as a matter of fact, it is a virtue necessary for self-protection up to the age when the child matures to the virtue of self-obedience. Loyalty has so many phases that it would be an untruth to place it at any one era of the child's life. The fact is that nearly all virtues are various phases of goodness appearing in deeper and finer manifestations as the years come on, and the endeavor should be not so much to grade the virtues as to grade the literary types of stories which appeal to the children of different ages. From what we know of child nature, stories, as to their literary character, should be presented in the following order : Stories with a sense appeal, Imaginative stories, Fairy tales Fables Myths and legends Parables and allegories Realistic stories, 87 88 MANUAL OF STORIES Biographical stories, Romantic stories. It has been thought helpful to present a good type- story or two under each of these varieties, selected for its excellence of construction and arrangement as well as its moral forcefulness. STORIES WITH A SENSE APPEAL Some may doubt that finger plays and nursery rhymes have any moral meaning. They recognize that the finger plays help coordinate the muscles and that the nursery rhymes encourage joy and fellowship between the mother and the child. But we think they do more. Most of the finger plays at the very least suggest that this is a world in which even little hands may be lovingly helpful. In- stance this one: Monday Here's a little wash-bench (fingers make the bench), Here's a little tub (fingers make the tub), Here's a little scrubbing-board (fingers made the scrubbing-board) And here's the way to scrub (fingers start to rub). Here's a little cake of soap (with the closed fist), Here's a dipper new (fist with bent finger for handle). Here's a basket wide and deep (both arms down and fingers touching). And here are clothespins two (two pairs of fingers for the prongs). Here's the line away up high (pointing), Here's the clothes all flying (flopping hands). Here's the sun so warm and bright (round space between hands), And now the washing's drying. And so the nursery rhymes, and especially the nursery songs, have their little lessons of kindness and gentleness and cheerfulness. You will at once think of, "I love pretty Pussy," "Tom Tom was a piper's son; he learned to play STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 89 when he was young," "This is the Mother so kind and dear," etc., etc. No one, in the special field of child-sympathy with animals, has recently written with sweeter purpose and simplicity than A. L. Sykes (Mrs. Stephani Schutze), whose "Tiny Hare and His Friends," published by Little, Brown & Co., Boston, ought to be known by all mothers of little children. Here is a story of hers, called, "The Wee Hare and the Red Fire." It is full of sense appeals, of color, cold and warmth, light and darkness. One day in the cold time when he lay snug and warm by his Mama, Tiny Hare said : "Tell me of the hare who went step, step, step in the snow till he came to the RED FIRE." So his Mama gave him a hug and said : Once upon a time was a wise Wee Hare who knew how to run fast when MAN came by. He knew how to hide when DOG was near, and when he saw the dark spot in the sky that HAWK made, how fast he did jump to his Mama! But Wee Hare did not like to go out and run and jump and play in the sun. "I do not want to run and jump and play in the sun. I want to run far, far in the wood, and find the red bush. I have seen it away off in the dark. It is good for me to eat, I know." "It is FIRE," said his Mama. "Only MAN can make it, and it is not good for you. It can burn and hurt. You may eat the good food that you can find near our home," and she bit his ear for a kiss. "I do not want to eat the good food that I can see here. I want to do just as I like. I want to pick the red food from the red bush. I know it is like buds in the warm time." "Hush!" said Papa Hare, very low and deep. "You are not good. When you are good, and the moon is high in the sky, and it is just like day, I will take you far out in the wood, and you may run and jump and play and eat the food that is best for you." 90 MANUAL OF STORIES "I do not want to go out in the wood, and run and jump and play when the moon is high in the sky. I want to do just as I like. I want to eat the red buds from the red bush," said the Wee Hare. "Shut your eyes, and put your ears down, and take your nap," said his Mama. ''You are too tiny to go away from me. Now, hush, do not say one more word. The red bush is the RED FIRE. It can hurt and burn. MAN has it, and DOG is with man. They can hurt you, and if you run too far in the wood, WIND may blow too hard for a wee hare, and SNOW may come and bury you. Shut your eyes, and put your ears down and take your nap." It was noon; the sun was high in the sky. Good Papa Hare took his nap, and Mama Hare took her nap. The Wee Hare shut his eyes, and put his ears down, but he took no nap. By and by he went out of the door, and ran and ran till he came to the wood. Then he ran and ran in the wood, but he did not come to the RED FIRE, and he ran and ran and ran till his feet were sore, but he did not come to the RED FIRE, and he ran and ran and ran and ran till he was not able to run any more and no RED FIRE did he see. He lay down to rest in a bush, and very soon his eyes shut, and he did not see or hear, for it was long past the hour for his nap. When he woke SNOW lay on all the open ways of the wood. The Wee Hare gave a leap from his bush, for he knew that SNOW can grow deep and deep, and a wee hare cannot walk in it. How he did wish he was at home ! The sun was far down in the west, and its last rays lay red on the SNOW. Step, step, step went the lame Wee Hare in the cold SNOW. He went back into the woods to try to find his way home. It grew gray, and it grew dark, and SNOW grew so deep that Wee Hare had hard work to walk. Then WIND came! Step, step, step in the SNOW he went. The WIND blew more and more. STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 91 "I cannot walk ; my feet are too lame," said the Wee Hare, and just then he saw the RED FIRE. It grew in the path in the wood, and by it sat MAN and DOG. Oh, how the Wee Hare felt! His nose grew hot, and ears grew cold, and he was not able to move. Then DOG said : ''WOW!" and put fiis ears up, but MAN said: "Lie down," and DOG lay down by the RED FIRE. The Wee Hare went into a tiny, tiny hole in a tree, and sat on his feet to warm them. He saw the RED FIRE. He did not like to see it. MAN and DOG did not let it come too near them, and he saw them keep away from the RED FIRE. ''They fear it, too," said the Wee Hare. "It is not good for me. I must take care or it will come and hurt me." He sat on his cold feet, and did not dare to take a nap. By and by MAN put SNOW over the RED FIRE, and he and DOG went away, and the Wee Hare went step, step, step in the snow, soft, soft, soft,. for fear. "I wish I had been good," said the Wee Hare, and WIND and SNOW were able to hear, and they felt sad for the Wee Hare. "We will help him," they said, but low and soft so he did not hear. The moon came up high in the sky till it was just like day, and it grew very cold. SNOW grew hard as ice in the cold, and the Wee Hare did not sink in it any more. WIND did not blow so hard. It came back of Wee Hare now, push, push, push, to help the Wee Hare over the SNOW. How fast he went hop, skip and jump! Soon he came to his home. How glad he was ! He went in and lay down by his Mama. "I have not been good, Mama," he said, very low in her ear. "Be good now, then," his Mama said, and he did not know how glad she was to have him back. "I want to be good," said the Wee Hare; and he 92 MANUAL OF STORIES shut his eyes, and put his ears down, and they all took a nap till the dawn came. "Just like us," said Tiny Hare, and he was glad that he lay snug and warm by his Mama, and he was glad she had told him the tale of the Wee Hare and the RED FIRE. FAIRY STORIES It is not necessary for the success of a fairy story as an aid in character-building that the incidents should be distant and improbable. Indeed if they be taken from the daily life of the child, and the only imaginative element be the good fairy herself, we have sometimes a model story for a purpose. Such an one is "The Fairy Who Came to Our House," meant to help make a very helpful little girl. The charming surprise at the close makes the story all the more memorable. THE FAIRY WHO CAME TO OUR HOUSE There was once a dear little girl who lived in our house. She was quite loving and sweet and truthful. She would have been a dear, dear little girl, but for one thing she was a wee bit careless. It was just about little things, you know. Perhaps it might be drying the cups until they shone. Perhaps it might be dusting the undermost places, like the rungs of the chairs and the piano legs. Perhaps it might be giving fresh milk to Taffy, the black pussy-cat. Perhaps it might be leaving the old rag doll out in the weather all night. The old rag doll had rheu- matism, and a night out in the dew made it worse. A dear, dear little girl would have remembered these things, but our dear little girl forgot. One morning she woke very early, but the sun was behind a cloud, and the fog crept into the nursery. She began to forget things before breakfast. STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 93 "Oh, where is my red hair ribbon?" she said. "And where is my shoe string?" After breakfast she wanted to make a little saucer pie with mother, in the kitchen. Just as she put it in the oven she thought of her unmade bed upstairs. Before she had half finished the bed she remembered that grandmother was waiting to have her spectacles found. Then the door bell rang, and she just had to run and see who it was. It was just a short way to the end of the garden ; she really had to run to the gate and see if next-door Helen were at home. Ah, the broken shoe string was in the way ! The dear little girl tumbled down in the garden path and bumped her poor little nose. And the saucer pie burned black in the oven, the bed was not made, and grandmother had no spectacles. As she sat up in the garden path, crying two big tears, who should she see on the stone beside her (there had been no one there before) but a tiny old woman. I think she was just three inches high, and she wore a long red cloak and a little red hood, and she carried a crooked little cane. Her face Was as brown and wrinkled as a last fall's oak- leaf. She rapped on the stone with her cane, as she said: "What are you crying about, little girl?" "Oh," sobbed the dear little girl, "I want to not forget so many things." "Run right into the house," said the fairy for she was a fairy. "I am going to help you all day long." The dear little girl rubbed her eyes. There was no fairy upon the stone only two wee footprints so she jumped up and ran into the house. The first thing she spied was a pair of shiny spectacles under the hall rack. Grandmother was so pleased to have them. As the little girl came down stairs again she heard a squeaky laugh. There was a red cloak on the staircase and some one said: 94 MANUAL OF STORIES "Hurry, hurry, kitchen trouble, Kettle wants to boil and bubble." So the little girl ran down to the kitchen and filled the old copper tea kettle, who sat fussing upon the stove, because he was empty. As she put on the cover, whom should she see standing upon the spout but the little figure in a red cloak, and this is what she heard: "Run and set the plates for lunch, Knives and forks are in a bunch." Yes, the table did need setting. When it was all done, there was the fairy on the sideboard, twirling around like a Japanese top and saying : "Dolly's things are such a sight ! Put the bureau drawers to right." So the little girl flew up stairs to the nursery. She packed the doll's dresses in the trunk. She folded all the hair ribbons in the top drawer, and there was the lost red one at the very bottom. All day long, the fairy kept reminding her of things to do. After lunch there she was sitting on the edge of mother's darning basket, looking like a red Dutch cheese, and saying: "Holes to be mended, and darning begun ; Find mother's needles and pins, every one." Toward evening there she was on the arm of father's easy-chair, saying: "Father is coming. Now, quick as can be, Lay out his slippers and book before tea." The little girl was very tired by bedtime, but it had been a busy, happy day. She sat in her little chair by STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 95 the nursery fire, and rocked, and wondered if it could all have been a dream; when pop there was the little old woman in the red cloak, dancing upon a red coal, and saying : "Look in the box on the bureau, my dear; And try to remember as long as a year." So the dear little girl looked in the box on the bureau, and there, inside, was a little gold wishing-ring, and it said on the bow : "From all the family in our house, for a dear, dear little girl who tried to remember." And the queer little fairy never came again; but that was because she didn't need to. If the purposive story is to be very helpful, it must, of course, be remembered. There are one or two devices by which a story may be made memorable. One of these is the device of repetition, using a special phrase several times in a narrative. Another common device is that of arranging that there shall be three incidents before the denouement. Both these devices are implied in the familiar story of the three bears, in which the phrases "Who's been eating of my porridge?", "Who's been sitting in my chair?", etc., bringing forth replies in three tones of voice from the three bears and in which each of the bears engages in three experiments before they finally discover the little girl. The following story of "Little Blue Gown and the Butterfly," adapted from a set of rhymes that appeared once in St. Nicholas, also illustrates the employment of both of these devices. Everything in the story is "little" and "blue," and that favorite color runs like a motif through the narrative. Blue Gown also has three sad adventures before she finally comes to the happy one. LITTLE BLUE GOWN AND THE BUTTERFLY In a dear little house with a little blue gate at the foot of a grassy meadow there once lived a nice little 96 MANUAL OF STORIES girl. She was called Little Blue Gown, because the only frock she had to wear, week days and Sundays, was a little old gown of blue. It was very ragged, because she had worn it so long, and although she had mended it as best she could, still it did not look very nice. She lived all alone, except for a little old cat, and sometimes she was very lonely; but she used to say, "I mustn't mind that." One day the little blue gown girl heard a knock at the door which frightened her very much, because nobody ever came to her house. On the floor she found a little blue letter which said: "Dear Little What's- Your-Name ; I know how good you are, for I come and watch you every morning and night, and I have got a beautiful new frock for you with a sash to tie around it, only you have got to go with me and find it. Whatever happens, don't lose heart, and I will promise to help you and bring you safely back. Follow my small blue messenger boy wherever you see him. Wishing you great joy, Yours ever, The Fairy Queen." You can imagine how delighted Little Blue Gown was when she finished this charming letter. She clapped her hands and danced up and down. Then she washed up her little plate and cup, tidied up her little room and brushed up the fireplace, and then ran out-doors and looked around. She couldn't spy any messenger anywhere, but on the flowers at the gate was a small blue butterfly. So she went out through the garden gate, saying to herself, "I don't know where to go, but I will go on. I shall find him soon, I am sure." So she went right on and on until she came to the mill. On the steps of the mill was the miller's boy, named Will. She said, "Have you happened to see a fairy mes- senger pass ? He has a pretty new frock for me." But Will said, "You silly goose! Here is the only frock you'll get," and he threw a flour sack down on her shoulders. She was covered from head to foot with flour, and Will burst into a loud laugh, and jeered with all his STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 97 might. "That is as pretty a new frock as ever I saw," he said. Then Little Blue Gown turned sadly away. There was nobody to guide her and she did not notice the butterfly, although it kept close to her. So she went on and on until she came to the house of the chimney sweep. The chimney sweep boy, Mark, was at the window looking out. She said, "Have you seen a fairy messenger in blue go by? He has got a pretty new frock for me." But he cried, "Here is a fine new suit for you," and he threw a sooty sack down on her shoulders. So now she was all black from head to foot, and Mark said, "How do you like the soot?" Then Little Blue Gown again went her way, trying to smile, and she never noticed all the time that the butterfly was above her. So she went straight on and on, and by and by she came to the Four-Winds-Cross-Roads. Wasn't that a funny name for a place? She sat down by the guide post and cried, because she did not know which way to go. Down the North Road, blue speedwell grew ; down the East Road grew bluebells; on the South Road, blue succory, but in the West Road nothing grew. At least, there was only a little tiny brook. So Little Blue Gown sat there crying, for she was speckled with soot and mottled with flour and covered with dust. Finally she said, "I must stay here for a half hour. I must get clean I must. What would the fairy queen say if she saw me now?" She took off her frock and washed it in the brook. It took a long, long time. Then she hung it up in a sunny place on a leafy bough. She washed her hands and face and said, "Now I feel better." She had thought that no flowers grew along the West Road, but now she saw a lot of them. There were masses of blue along the brook and they were all forget-me-nots, and down among the forget-me-nots, now flying high and now low, was a little blue butterfly, just as blue as the blossoms were. 98 MANUAL OF STORIES She was just putting on her frock again when she saw a boy, a Gypsy boy, in a ragged coat of blue. She cried out, "Oh, oh, are you the messenger of the fairy queen?" He answered, "I don't know what you mean by that. I am just trying to catch this butterfly, and it has led me such a chase." Pretty soon he caught it, and would have killed it had not Little Blue Gown cried, "Oh, what a pity! Don't hurt it! Give it to me." "Give me your blue necklace," said the boy, "and I'll give you the butterfly." Now these blue beads were the only treasure that Little Blue Gown ever had, but she said, although it made her very sad, "Yes, I'll give you my necklace with pleasure if you give me the butterfly." So she took it off and the Gypsy lad ran away with the blue beads. But the little blue girl felt very happy with the butterfly on her hand. All at once the butterfly rose up bigger and bigger, and by and by he said to her, "Mount and ride me. I am the fairy messenger. I have been all the time close beside you !" So she climbed on his back and rode away and away, over hills and fields. When they went high and she became dizzy she held all the tighter and shut her eyes for fear she might drop. By and by they came to her own little door. Had the messenger made a mistake? But no. Little Blue Gown went in and her poor little room was filled with the prettiest things. There were chairs and curtains and carpets, all of blue, and little blue plates and cups, and blue flowers in pots and blue tiles in the walls, her bed was as blue as forget-me-nots, and hanging from a chair was the very loveliest frock of blue that you ever saw. The butterfly said, "They are all for you. They were sent by the fairy queen." And now Little Blue Gown was indeed surprised. The butterfly had turned into a fairy boy, ever so pretty and slim, and he said, "I hope you are pleased !" and he seized both her hands in his and merrily they danced around. STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 99 So Little Blue Gown will never be lonely any more. She has fairy food to eat, fairy flowers in front of her little door, and fairy furniture in her house, and the butter- fly boy comes and brings her presents, and sometimes gives her rides on his wings. Sometimes he stops to tea. MYTHS AND LEGENDS In a certain sense, mythical heroes are almost truer than life itself, that is, they have gathered in the course of the years so much of concreteness and definiteness that they represent more distinctly certain types of character than any actual individual, living or dead. They are also skilfully simple. That has been done with them which we shall find has to be done with a real biography in order to make it morally effective: only so much is told as is necessary to make one particular moral impression. Of all legends none have been greater favorites with or more helpful to young people than those of King Arthur. Each of the Round Table Knights represents in his ideals and adventures a separate type of character, the King himself is Conscience, and the whole cycle is closely parallel in spirit to the chivalrous, generous desires of boys and girls. As a continued story, to be told in chapters and with somewhat of the leisureliness and largeness of Malory, it is matchless. It takes a good deal of it to build up a total moral impression. We have selected a single incident, however, somewhat unfamiliar, which deserves to stand alone. It has been somewhat rewritten, in the interest of better construction and directness. THE KNIGHT WITH THE ILL-FITTING COAT Once when King Arthur was sitting at court a tall, sturdy youth made his appearance and asked for an audience. 100 MANUAL OF STORIES "I have come," he said, "to be made a knight. My name is Breunor, and my father was a noble lord, so you will do right to grant me this favor." "Be that as it may," said the king, "but I must know more of you before I make you a knight. Why wear you this great coat of gold cloth?" he inquired, for over his shoulders the youth had a richly embroidered coat of cloth of gold, which was too large for him and which hung awkwardly from his shoulders. "This is the coat of my father. One day he was slain treacherously while he was asleep, and I have sworn to wear this cloak, with these sword strokes upon it, until I have revenged his foul death. Now, O King, I pray you again, make me a knight, so that I may go forth on my life-quest." Some of the older knights then made entreaty for the young man, and at length the king promised to make him a knight the following day. Breunor was then sent to /Kay the Seneschal, the sharp-tongued knight who had all the young squires in charge. When he saw the lad, at once he began to laugh at him in the presence of the other youths and promptly nicknamed him "Sir La Cote Male Taile," or "Sir Ill-Fitting Coat." The next morning while the king and his knights were at the hunt and the fair ladies of the court were walking on the terrace, a large lion that had been kept in a tower at one end of the plaisaunce broke loose and began leaping across the terrace. The queen and her ladies fled in the wildest haste. Then a tall youth sprang out from the company of squires that were seated by the wall, with sword in hand, and cleft the beast's head at a single blow. When the king returned he gave Breunor, for it was he, high praise for his quickness and courage. "As I am king," he said, "you shall prove a most noble and valiant knight, and one of the most worthy to sit with me at the Table Round." Then he commanded him to kneel, and dubbed him knight and called him Sir Breunor. STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: .IMAGINATIVE STORIES 101 "Nay, an it please you," said the young man, "I will be known by no other name than that of 'La Cote Male Taile/ by which Sir Kay hath christened me, that my quest may ever be in my mind." To this the king and his knights agreed, and he was so called among them. That very day a damsel rode into the court, bearing with her a huge black shield, on one side of which was painted a mailed hand holding a sword. Its owner had been worsted by a still mightier knight, she said, and he had committed his shield to her that she might find a champion who should fulfil his quest. As the knights thought of the strength and valor of -one who could carry a shield greater than this one, there was a silence. Then La Cote Male Taile strode forward and claimed his right, as the latest made knight, to ride forth upon this quest. She warned him that this would be no light summer day's adventure. "Then it is all the more to my liking," he replied. The two had not gone far on their journey when they saw Dagonet, the king's jester, speeding hard after them on the back of a donkey. He bore in his hands a lath. La Cote Male Taile understood at once that this was a piece of Sir Kay's doings, to make him ridiculous in the damsel's eyes. So he smote the fool lightly with his palm and sent him headlong over the donkey's neck. But the damsel laughed at him for jousting with a fool, and told him he would be ashamed when Dagonet told the story at the court. To this he made no reply. Thrice that day knights from the court met him and jousted with him. He entreated each of them to engage with him in sword play on foot, since he had not yet learned to handle himself on a horse. But they all declined, and he was thrown by each of them in turn. These mishaps caused the damsel to laugh at him more than ever, and when Sir Modred> the king's nephew, joined them, she rode by his side and quite ignored the young Cote Male Taile. By and by they came to a famous stronghold known 102 MANUAL OF STORIES as Castle Orgulous. As they approached, two knights dashed across the drawbridge against them, with their lances couched. The one who met Sir Modred smote him off the bridge and into the moat. The other unhorsed La Cote Male Taile, but, guarding himself as he fell, he jumped upon the steed of Sir Modred and pursued his enemy into the castle itself, and there slew him. Then, standing by the body of the dead knight, La Cote Male Taile found himself facing a host of knights who had gathered around him. Leaping from the horse, he led the animal through the gateway, and dashed back, sword in hand, to meet his opponents. Against these terrible odds he fought, until a score of knights fell around him, but it seemed impossible that he should defeat them all. Then the damsel, who had been holding his own horse, called to him to escape with her through the postern gate. Throw- ing her and then himself upon the horse's back, they made for this gate, through which they passed unscathed. But after a time their horse, doubly laden, was overtaken by the knights of Castle Orgulous on fresh horses and La Cote Male Taile and the damsel were taken prisoners. Now when Sir Launcelot of the Lake had heard that the older knights had allowed one so young to take upon himself this terrible quest of the Black Shield, he was very wroth, and he spurred after La Cote Male Taile, to see whether he could be of any service to him. When he reached Castle Orgulous he challenged each of the knights of the castle to combat and having overthrown them one after another he ordered that all the prisoners in the castle should be released. Among them he found La Cote Male Taile and the damsel. As they rode away Sir Launcelot reproached the dam- sel for the scornful words which he had heard that she had spoken to her champion. "For," he said, "this youth is one of the bravest knights I have ever known, and for love of him I followed, to succor him in his hour of need." Then the damsel confessed with many blushes and STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 103 tears that she had treated him so scornfully because she loved him too, and had hoped by this means to dissuade him from this quest, which she feared he would never live to accomplish. At this La Cote Male Taile was exceedingly glad, for he himself loved the damsel who was the fairest he had ever seen. And now the damsel and Sir Launcelot supposed that Sir La Cote Male Taile would accompany them back to the court, but when they came to a certain cross-roads he started to leave them. When they both remonstrated he pointed to the Black Shield on his arm and reminded the damsel that this was the way she had pointed out to Castle Surluse, where lived the knight who had overcome the owner of this Black Shield, and that he could not return until he had fulfilled his quest. Neither would he permit the damsel or Sir Launcelot to go with him. So he rode alone to Castle Surluse, where he sum- moned forth the knight of the castle to combat. And after a terrible fight on horse and foot, in which he received many terrible wounds, but did not a whit abate the vigor of his blows, he vanquished the knight who had slain the owner of the Black Shield. And when he opened the visor of his adversary he found that he had slain the murderer of his father. After the castle was thus delivered into his hands and he had freed its prisoners, he rode slowly and fainting back to the court. Here the damsel tenderly nursed him. And now La Cote Male Taile was given great lands by King Arthur, and after a time he wedded the damsel for whom he had achieved the adventure of the Black Shield. When he was fully come to man's estate the young knight filled out to the full the coat of his father, but he still continued to be called La Cote Male Taile, in honor of his courage when a lad. But there was one knight who never called him La Cote Male Taile and that was Sir Kay the Seneschal. 104 MANUAL OF STORIES PARABLES AND ALLEGORIES As has already been intimated, parables and allegories present the difficulty that many children insist on taking them literally and see in them no more than the bare inci- dents of the story. But they are such favorites with us who are older and there are so many of them at hand that we are tempted to use them if possible. And, with skill, it is possible. Let us give some special attention to the use of analogies in moral training, and to make our suggestions concrete examine carefully a few unusually good examples. We have said that the inner meaning of the allegory is not always appreciated by young children. Some of them, however, have more insight than we give them credit for, and this insight is stimulated if there be a touch of humor in the narrative. A bit of humor is an antidote both to false sentiment on the part of the parent and to an untrue impression on the mind of the child. It has a happy effect in bringing the child en rapport with the story- teller. When he sees the twinkle in the narrator's eye he gets ready for sympathetic listening. This element of the unexpected is illustrated in the somewhat familiar parable of 'The Magic Shirt." It would take only the shortest questioning at the close to help the child to the answer, that happiness does not necessarily depend upon the possession of a shirt, Or indeed of many other supposed necessities. The stimulus to the correct answer is given in the humor that wakes up the mind and makes it intent and appreciative. THE MAGIC SHIRT Once a king lay dying. The doctors had done all they could for him, and declared that nothing could save him. The king was not willing to believe that his time was STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 105 come. He sent for a certain wise man, and asked him what he must do to get well. The wise man said, "O king, if thou couldst wear the shirt of a truly happy man for one night, thou wouldst recover." This was as much as to say that the king was dying of discontent. Hearing this, the officers of the king sent out to search the kingdom for a truly happy man. They found none for a long time. Some men complained because they were poor, and some who had riches felt their wealth a burden. Some were "worked to death," as they said, and some were un- happy because they had nothing to do. Some had none to love them, and some had families larger than they could support. At last a man was found who complained of nothing and confessed that he was always happy. But he had no shirt ! When the king heard this, he arose from his bed, saying he would live a simple life and never be discontented again. Children have to be a little older in order to appreciate analogies that are spiritual rather than material. Even then we who tell them such stories are likely to err in two ways : our analogy is not perfect or else it is indefinite. The analogy is imperfect because we have not clearly enough seen what we wish to teach and it is indefinite because we are trying to teach several truths with one story. Here is a story that was told by Maud Lindsay in "Mother Stories," published by Milton Bradley Co., who desired to show a girl, of perhaps twelve, the tragedy that comes if a child breaks the bonds of confidence between her- self and her mother. In the following beautiful para- ble of "The Closing Door," the analogy is both definite and complete, and the tenderness of affection manifested in the story is bound to be deeply appealing to the feelings. 106 MANUAL OF STORIES THE CLOSING DOOR There was once a little girl (her best and sweetest name was Little Daughter), who had a dear little room, all her own, which was full of treasures, and was as lovely as love could make it. You never could imagine, no matter how you tried, a room more beautiful than hers ; for it was white an4 shining from the snowy floor to the ceiling, which looked as if it might have been made of a fleecy cloud. The curtains at the windows were like the petals of a lily, and the little bed was like swan's down. There were white pansies, too, that bloomed in the windows, and a dove whose voice was sweet as music; and among her treasures she had a string of pearls which she was to wear about her neck when the king of the country sent for her, as he had promised to do some day. This string of pearls grew longer and more beautiful as the little girl grew older, for a new pearl was given her as soon as she waked up each morning ; and every one was a gift from this king, who bade her keep them fair. Her mother helped her to take care of them and of all the other beautiful things in her room. Every morning, after the new pearl was slipped on the string, they would set the room in order ; and every evening they would look over the treasures and enjoy them together, while they carefully wiped away any specks of dust that had gotten in during the day and made the room less lovely. There were several doors and windows, which the little girl could open and shut just as she pleased, in this room; but there was one door which was always open, and that was the one which led into her mother's room. No matter what Little Daughter was doing she was happier if her mother was near; and although she some- times ran away into her own room and played by herself, she always bounded out at her mother's first call, and STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 107 sprang into her mother's arms, gladder than ever to be with her because she had been away. Now, one day when the little girl was playing alone, she had a visitor who came in without knocking, and who seemed, at first, very much out of place in the shining white room, for he was a goblin and as black as a lump of coal. He had not been there more than a very few minutes, however, before nearly everything in the room began to look more like him and less like driven snow; and although the little girl thought that he was very strange and ugly when she first saw him, she soon grew used to him, and found him an entertaining playfellow. She wanted to call her mother to see him, but he said : "Oh! no; we are having such a nice time together, and she's busy, you know." So the little girl did not call; and the mother, who was making a dress of fine lace for her darling, did not dream that a goblin was in the little white room. The goblin did not make any noise, you know, for he tiptoed all the time, as if he were afraid; and if he heard a sound he would jump. But he was a merry goblin, and he amused the little girl so much that she did not notice the change in her dear room. The curtains grew dingy, the floor dusty, and the ceiling looked as if it might have been made of a rain cloud ; but the child played on, and got out all her treasures to show her visitor. The pansies drooped and faded, the white dove hid its head beneath its wing and moaned; and the last pearl on the precious string grew dark when the goblin touched it with his smutty fingers. "Oh, dear me!" said the little girl when she saw this. "I must call my mother; for these are the pearls that I must wear to the king's court, when he sends for me." "Never mind," said the goblin, "we can wash it, and if it isn't just as white as before, what difference does it make about one pearl?" 108 MANUAL OF STORIES "But mother says that they all must be as fair as the morning/' insisted the little girl, ready to cry. "And what will she say when she sees this one?" "You shut the door then," said the goblin, pointing to the door that had never been closed, "and I'll wash the pearl." So the little girl ran to close the door, and the goblin began to rub the pearl ; but it only seemed to grow darker. Now the door had been open so long that it was hard to move, and it creaked on its hinges as the little girl tried to close it. When the mother heard this she looked up to see what was the matter. She had been thinking about the dress which she was making; but when she saw the closing door, her heart stood still with fear; for she knew that if it once closed tight she might never be able to open it again. She dropped her fine laces and ran toward the door calling, "Little Daughter! Little Daughter! Where are you ?" and she reached out her hands to stop the door. But as soon as the little girl heard that loving voice she answered : "Mother, oh, Mother! I need you so! My pearl is turning black and everything is wrong !" and flinging the door wide open she ran into her mother's arms. When the two went together into the little room, the goblin had gone. The pansies now bloomed again, and the white dove cooed in peace; but there was much work for the mother and daughter, and they rubbed and scrubbed and washed and swept and dusted, till the room was so beautiful that you would not have known that a goblin had been there except for the one pearl, which was a little blue always, even when the king was ready for Little Daughter to come to his court, although that was not until she was a very old woman. As for the door, it was never closed again; for Little Daughter and her mother put two golden hearts against it and nothing in this world could have shut it. While it is often said that "no parable will go on all STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING : IMAGINATIVE STORIES 109 fours," and we appreciate that no analogy should be pressed too far, yet especially when homely incidents are chosen they should be true to facts, at least to the extent of reason- able conviction to the audience. E. P. St. John cites, as a failure in this respect, a parable in which someone, desir- ing to emphasize the thought that goodness dries up unless its sources are fed, told the story of a western town that received all its v/ater from a cistern on a hilltop. Suddenly the pipes ran dry, the inhabitants suffered and finally were all getting ready to move aw*ay, when a tramp came along and showed them how a pal of his had plugged the pipe below the cistern. The trouble here, as St. John says, is that we are so irritated by the unreasonableness of the narrative that we lose its moral force. While the story- teller is enlarging upon the distress of the citizens and their decision to give up the town, our common sense is telling us, 'That is not the way people would act; they would send for a plumber." Our analogies should not only be homely but they should be reasonable. The trouble, too, with the parable often is that the analogy is so far-fetched as to deal with such unfamiliar incidents that they are not impressive to the child. One reason why the parables of Jesus are the most perfect ever told is because they had to do with the everyday occupa- tions, the common occurrences of life, the birds, the beasts and the blossoms. (The telling of Bible stories is reserved for another chapter.) What we have been saying about parables may be summarized as follows: 1. With young children the analogy should be quite literal, having to do with the child's familiar ex- periences and occupations. 2. Later the analogy may be more spiritual, but it should be complete and definite; that is, it should be true, and it should bear but one application. 110 MANUAL OF STORIES 3. In all parables it is helpful if there may be the element of humor, awakening the sympathy of the child with the story-teller and the alertness of the child to the meaning of the story. XI THE STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REAL- ISTIC STORIES REALISTIC STORIES AND BIOGRAPHY A good realistic story is hard to find. When it is interesting it is likely to fail in moral appeal, and if it has a strong moral appeal it is likely not to be interesting. In searching for realistic stories, it is especially important that they should touch the actual life of the child. The popular books which are intended for the moral uplift of children usually dwell upon anecdotes taken from the lives of great merchants or inventors. The writer has recently been examining, in the search for this sort of material, a handbook for teaching morals through biography, which claims to have been sold to over ten thousand public schools in America. In almost every case the instances were drawn from such sources as Roman history, Revolutionary patriotism or large intel- lectual and commercial success. The cases in which the ordinary occupations and situations of men and boys were alluded to might be counted on one's fingers. Dr. Coe very sensibly says: "Does anyone really believe that Willie Green of the fifth grade will study his lessons because John Wanamaker, Thomas A. Edison, and Luther Burbank work hard in their respective occupations ? Willie is engaged with functions which to him are different from those of merchant, inventor, and naturalist. At some point in his course it will, perhaps, be worth while for him in 112 MANUAL OF STORIES to study the career of Mr. Wanamaker in order to see what a merchant does for society, and how he does it; Mr. Edison's career, to see what an inventor does for society, and how he does it; and Mr. Burbank's career, to see how the breeds of plants and of animals can be im- proved, and why they should be improved; but if you wish to make eleven-year-old Willie Green enjoy hard study, you must find your leverage in something that he can recognize as his own present good." It is the life with which the child is in contact that constitutes primarily the material for his growth. Such material is always at hand. At the corner is a policeman. What does the policeman do, and why does he do it ? Down the street is a grocer. What does the grocer do, and why does he do it? What does a nickel theater, a bill-board, a railroad, a newspaper do? "Here is the material upon which the children are actually forming their character, whether we will or no." Out of this material, near at hand, and in which the child is already interested, we are to build our realistic stories. Coe cites this instance: "A boy was throwing stones at a street lamp. A passerby said, 'Why do you wish to break your father's lamp?' 'It isn't my father's lamp!' replied the boy. 'Who pays for street lamps, then?' was the rejoinder. A not less pointed exam- ple of the effect of defining one's purpose to one's self is this: Get a boy to tell you what he really wants in the next game of baseball that he plays, and you will draw out of him the right material for awakening indignation and scorn, admiration and social purpose." When we do find a realistic story that is good it makes a legend look pale. Here is an incident, abridged from some popular periodical, about JIMMY AND THE SHARPER A boy applied at a broker's office for a place as office boy. He was not very strong-appearing, but his mother STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STORIES 113 was with him, and she said he would be a good one "or just let her know." The broker was just about to set the lad at work when he happened to remember that there was a crowd of other boys outside who had also applied for the job. "Tell them to go," said he. When the boy came in again there was a bump on his lip where one of them had hit him, and his necktie was gone, but he made no complaint and sat down quietly to learn to copy letters. Toward noon the business man went out to lunch. "I shall be back at two; if anyone calls get him to wait or to leave a message." Pretty soon a young man came in from another office, but he left no message and said he would call again. Promptly Jimmy tackled him, though he was the larger, and when the broker returned Jimmy was sitting on his stomach. The broker was surprised, to say the least, but Jimmy said: "He wouldn't wait and he wouldn't leave any message, so I had to make him." As this was just what he had been told to do, his employer could only laugh and pay the young man for his hurt feelings. A day or two later the broker gave Jimmy a certified check and told him to take it to another business office. He also handed him an engraved bond and told him that if the man there handed him forty-nine more like it, he might give him the check in return. The check was for fifty thousand dollars. About ten minutes later a friend rushed into the broker's office and convinced him that the man to whom he had sent Jimmy was a sharper and that the bonds were worthless. But Jimmy had probably given up the check by this time! 114 MANUAL OF STORIES They hurried down the elevator to see if they could overtake the thief. When Jimmy reached his destination the sharper wanted to seize the check at once, but Jimmy insisted on seeing the bonds. The sharper gave him one. Jimmy asked for the others. "Give me that check !" the sharper shouted. But Jimmy would not do so, and the sharper had to hand the others over. Jimmy began to examine them, one by one. The alarmed and impatient thief sprang at Jimmy. Together they fell to the floor, and there they scuffled and rolled. Not a word did Jimmy say, but he kicked and fought the man with all his might. At length the brute stunned him with his revolver. Just then the broker and his friend rushed in, and as they bumped together the sharper slipped past and escaped. They picked Jimmy up, white and bloody, and asked him anxiously if he was hurt. "I ain't hoited," he said faintly. Then he spat a little wad of paper from his mouth. It was the check for fifty thousand dollars. Don't you believe that broker appreciated Jimmy's obedience ? When we find a life that has imbedded in its ex- perience a lesson for the young, we must remember that we are engaged in the endeavor to help character-building, not to furnish biographical information. That a child should at some time or other have a fairly clear and ade- quate idea of the career of Washington is desirable, but the time to give him such an idea is not when we are trying to inculcate honesty through the cherry-tree episode. In moral training, biography is made for the child and not the child for the biography. All endeavors toward character-building through biography must evidently be STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STORIES 115 discriminative. We may indeed praise Weems, who seems to have invented the cherry-tree story, that if he was not a wholly accurate biographer he was an excellent moralist, for he chose a story which is one of the classics of truth- fulness. So we may leave to the history books and to later reading complete knowledge of the achievements of any hero if only we may choose, what was very likely his greatest achievement, a golden deed that shall inspire our children. PLUTARCH'S STORIES Plutarch's stories of the Greek and Roman heroes have generally been regarded as models for all time of tales for a purpose. They are always short, and they excel chiefly in the matter of a wise selectiveness ; they usually include but one achievement or one sententious phrase. Let us cite a few of them, to remind ourselves how this great Grecian ever declined to aim at more than one mark at a time. OF FORTITUDE When an express came out of the field to Xenophon the Socratic as he was sacrificing, which acquainted him that his son had perished in the fight, he pulled the garland from his- head, and inquired after what manner he fell. And it being told him that he died gallantly, after he had paused a while to recollect his thoughts and quiet his first emotion of concern with reason, he adorned his head again, finished the sacrifice, and spoke thus to the messenger: "I did not make it my request to the gods that my son be immortal or long-lived, but that he might be a lover of his country. And now I have my desire." OF REAL WORTH Being exhorted to hear one that imitated the voice of a nightingale, ''I have often," replied Agesilaus, "heard nightingales themselves." 116 MANUAL OF STORIES OF GOOD HUMOR Damonidas, being placed by him that ordered the chorus in the last rank of it, said: "Well done! you have found a way to make this place also honorable." When Pandaretus was not chosen among the Three- Hundred (the chief order in the city) he went away laugh- ing and very jocund. When the Ephors calling him back asked him why he laughed, "Why," said he, "I congratulate the happiness of the city that enjoys three hundred citizens better than myself." ON REAL COURTESY An old man in the Olympic games, being desirous to see the sport, and unprovided of a seat, went about from place to place, but none offered him the civility. But when he came to the Spartans' quarter all the boys and some of the men rose from their seats and made room. At this all the Greeks clapped and praised their behavior; upon which the good old man shaking his hoary hairs, with tears in his eyes, said: "Good God! how well all the Greeks know what is good, and yet only the Spartans practice it!" ON CONTENTMENT Socrates hearing one of his friends crying out, "How dear things are sold in this city ! the wine of Chios costs a mina, the purple fish three, and a half pint of honey five drachmas" he brought him to the miller's, and showed him that half a peck of flour was sold for a penny. " Tis a cheap city," said he. Then he brought him to the oil merchant's, and told him that he might have a quart of olives for two farthings. " 'Tis a cheap city," said he. At last he went to the clothier's, and convinced him that STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STORIES 117 the price of a sleeveless jerkin was only ten drachmas. ' 'Tis a cheap city," he repeated. Of course Plutarch's sentiments are generally too ma- ture for children, but his directness was admirable. Abra- ham Lincoln was truly one of Plutarch's men, and some of his homely stones not only were pungent but are believed, rightly, better to help men understand him than have elaborate books of biography. This is one of his lesser known tales : A politician once went to him to get offices for himself and his gang. Lincoln received him politely, said to him that he was sorry he had no good offices for him and his friends, but that he could tell him a good story. ONE OF LINCOLN'S STORIES "Once there was a king who kept an astrologer to forewarn him of coming events, and especially to tell him whether it was going to rain when he wished to go hunting. One day he started for the forest with a train of knights and ladies, when he met a farmer. " 'Good morning, farmer,' said the king. " 'Good morning, king,' said the farmer ; 'where are you folks going?' " 'Hunting/ said the king. " 'Hunting ? You'll get all wet !' "The king trusted his astrologer and kept on, but sure enough there came up a tremendous storm at midday that drenched the king and his whole party. "As soon as he got back to the palace the king had his astrologer dismissed and sent for the farmer to take his place. " 'Law sakes !' said the farmer, when he arrived. 'It ain't me that knows when it is going to rain; it's my donkey. When it's goin' to be fair weather, he always carries his ears forward, so. When it's goin' to rain, he 118 MANUAL OF STORIES puts 'em backward, so.' So the king appointed the donkey court astrologer. "But he always declared," Lincoln concluded, "that that appointment was the greatest mistake he ever made in his life." "Why? Didn't the donkey do his duty?" asked the office seeker. "Yes," answered the President, "but after that every donkey in the country wanted an office!" When we can succeed in telling stories from real lives convincingly we are doing children a great service. They are incapable of seeing history, as we see it, as composed of great movements and eras; to them it is simply the sum of the lives of men whom they revere. When we inspire them with great biography we bring them to see the history of mankind as Pascal urged that it be seen, "the whole succession of man during many ages to be considered as One Man, ever living and constantly learning." SUGGESTIONS AS TO TELLING MORAL STORIES A few special suggestions may be helpful. In the first place, we must always be sure that what we intend to give is a story. Henry van Dyke summed up the whole word about story-telling for moral use in his famous prayer: "Grant, Lord, that I may never tag a moral to a tale, and that I may never tell a story without a purpose." It is, of course, the first part of this petition which we need especially to heed. We have so little faith in the effectiveness of our own stories. Yet if a story is really to be effective, it must be a story and not a sermon. Let us never call it "an anecdote"; never in story-telling use the word "character," "will power," "virtue," or any of the names which go with a book of ethical lessons. A child should go away from our story not feeling "in- STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STORIES 119 structed," "improved," or depressed, but joyous, affectionate and courageous. ^ Let us use at least the tact of a Pueblo Indian in our choice of a time for story-telling. We must lie in wait with our story as the hunter does with his gun if we are going to hit the mark. This implies that we must have plenty of ammunition. The parent, recognizing in a child a besetting sin, should stock up with stories which will inform, convince and inspire the child to conquer that special frailty. In a quiet moment before going to sleep, in the leisure of Sunday, during the confidential half hours which come frequently, though unexpectedly, the skilful mother will insert her story. The manner of moral story-telling is of considerable importance. Though preaching, we are not to adopt the preacher's tone. We are to avoid the "high pulpit manner." The story is to be told with evident enjoyment, if possible with a touch of humor. "Do not take the moral plum out of the fairy tale pudding," says Dr. Adler, "but let the child enjoy it as a whole. Do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral point. You will squeeze all the juice out of it if you try. Do not subordinate the purely fanciful and naturalistic elements of the story, such as the love of mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of fellowship with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on the moral element. On the contrary, you will gain the best moral effect by proceeding in exactly the opposite way. Treat the moral element as an incident; emphasize it, indeed, but incidentally. Pluck it as a wayside flower. How often does it happen that, having set out on a journey with a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the way which we had not foreseen, but which in the end leaves the deepest impression on the mind. The object which we had in view is not forgotten, but the incident which happened by the way is remembered for years after. 120 MANUAL OF STORIES So the moral result will not be less sure because gained incidentally." And when it has been told let it alone. For this reason it is usually well for the story-teller to depart sud- denly after he has winged his arrow to the mark. May we be delivered from the temptation of what Emerson once termed, to "pound on an incident." In our manner the finest virtue will be sympathy. Sympathy with our subject and our hero. To quote Emer- son again, his highest praise of Plutarch, the greatest pur- posive story-teller of all time, was that "he never lost his admiration," or, as he put it in another place, "He had that universal sympathy with genius which makes all its vic- tories his own." Sympathy, too, with the child. The -vice of the teacher is contempt of his pupil. It is hard to tell a child an improving story without looking down upon him. But if Dr. Norton said that the worst book is the one that makes life seem less interesting, he might have added that the worst story is the one that makes the child feel inferior. There is no special reason why we should act superior to the child ; we are in many ways not so sweet and pure as he, and we have by no means attained all the virtues of which we prate so glibly. Our truest mood toward the noble men of whom we tell is that We should delight in them, sitting to quote once more what Emerson said of Plutarch "as the bestower of the crown of noble knighthood, and laureate of the ancient world." And yet, with all our caution about preachiness, we do want our children really to get the application of the story. Nathan's tremendous parable to King David did not satisfy the prophet until he was sure that the king received into his heart the word, "Thou art the man." Especially per- haps in the Bible stories are children likely to feel content that what we tell took place a long time ago and related to the sins of somebody else. The child, we have said, tends to personalize himself as the hero of each, but he may not do so unless the story is effectively told. Mrs. STORY IN CHARACTER-BUILDING: REALISTIC STORIES 121 Louise Seymour Houghton had an experience once, which she says was to a degree humiliating to herself. "I had been telling the children the story of Paradise and the Fall, and had tagged on a moral after the usual Sunday afternoon fashion of those days. This done, I dismissed the children for a game of romps on the lawn, before the summer bedtime. But my little three-year-old presently came back and climbed into my lap, as I sat enjoying the sunset. For a while he sat silent, then with a deep sigh, the words burst from his baby mouth, 'Oh, if Eve hadn't eaten that apple, what a differenth to uth !' How my con- science smote me! How differently I might have told the story! My baby of three could have perfectly com- prehended that when people have been naughty they may not stay in God's garden, and he would simply have tried with all the energy of his little will to be good, so that he might stay there ; but what had he to do with Eve's trans- gression ?" One mother of our acquaintance used to be sure of her application by making a point on Sunday to tell, under the name of another child character, of dispositions and incidents which she had noticed in her own children's lives during the week. She did this so skilfully that they would, in surprise, tell her that they had been in the same case. The application was not difficult. It is possible to carry along from time to time incidents concerning an imaginary "Grumpy," or "Lazy Lawrence" or "Mary Quite Con- trary," and promise to call some child by such a title of reproach if he deserves it, or, still better, to tell of the exploits of a hero and encourage the child to incarnate him. A long list of stories helpful for character-building is given in Appendix V. XII HOW TO TELL BIBLE STORIES "Our first duty to a Bible story is to love it ; its effect we may leave to the divine artist." Richard G. Moulton. The Bible is the greatest story-book in the world. It is first in order of use. WHY THE BIBLE IS THE BEST STORY BOOK When we ask ourselves, What parts of the Bible do we most truly know ? we have to acknowledge that those parts are, on the whole, not always the ones which are of loftiest morality but those which embody keen story interest. Jn^general. we are much more familiar with the Pentateuch than with the Epistles, with the Old Testament than with the New, simply because,, during childhood, those parts, through stories, were first givn-.us. The Bible would not be a book dear to children if it were not largely a story book. It is the realization that it is a story book which causes young parents, who have not had the fore- sight to provide themselves with books of stories to tell to the children, to turn to this book which they remember was used in this way with themselves when they were children. The simplicity of the stories of the Bible helps account for their power with the children. Dr. Felix Adler quotes Professor Jebb, who remarked that Homer aims at the lucid expression of primary motives and refrains from multiplying individual traits which might interfere with 122 How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 123 their effect. This charm exists in the Bible as well as in Homer. The Biblical stories adopt a few essential traits of human nature and refain from multiplying minor traits which might interfere with the great effect. The Bible tales are fascinating in outline and leave every age free to fill them out so as to satisfy its own ideal. Dr. Adler calls attention to the fact that such simplicity is very difficult to use. If we keep our eyes fixed on the universal essentials of character, we produce a set of bloodless institutions, pale shadows of reality. If, on the other hand, we try to keep as near as possible to reality, we will probably produce more or less accurate copies of the people around us, but the danger will be that the univer- sal essential will be lost. This is possible because the Bible, like Homer, was written in a time when life was much less complex than it is at present, when the conversation, the thoughts, the motives of men were simpler. One reason why the Bible is a good story book for children is because of its candor. Children, we know, love truth and are naturally truth tellers. Our tendency in story-telling is always to eliminate the disagreeable, to leave out all that is bloodthirsty and cruel, to talk about none but perfect characters. Such a method is not only untrue to real life but it is a pale, bloodless and ineffective way of story-telling. The Bible is not like the cemetery through which the child is said to have passed and exclaimed as he read all the eulogistic inscriptions, "Mother, where are all the bad people buried ? There seem to be none of them here." It is rather like a roofless city, like Pompeii, down into whose streets and homes we are permitted to look and see it inhabited by its people, living, loving, conquering, playing, sinning and repenting. The moral strength of the Bible is that it not only tells us that the wages of sin is death but it shows us human persons earning those wages. The richness of material in the Bible makes it an admirable story book. It is, as we know, a massive collec- tion, consisting really of sixty-six different volumes. In 124 MANUAL OF STORIES these many pages many children are included. Persons of every class are described, from the working folk with whom children sympathize to princes and kings of whom children love to hear. Though its stories are somewhat defective in descriptions of nature, they are full of varied animal life. They contain all the different types of stories interesting to children of different ages ; fairy tales, fables, folk lore and myths, as well as parables and biography. ^These stories maintain interest because they deal with (jL^j^x things which children wish to know. How often we forget that the child is avid for knowledge and for knowledge concerning great world questions. These are some of the subjects of Bible stories: the origin of the world and of human beings ; how things were made ; how men, women and children are provided for ; what are the varied interests and ambitions about which men have been busy; what our relations are to God, to the world and to men; what is to be our future beyond the grave. We know, of course, that almost every story in the Bible has a religious purpose. "This," says Louise Seymour Houghton, "is the value of the Bible stories for the child : that they give a religious meaning to all the experiences of his early life, and furnish the bond of unity, the centraliz- ing focus of all the processes, intellectual, moral and spirit- al, of his maturing years. 'No other book finds me as the le does,' said Coleridge, and this is superlatively true * of the child of any age. The Bible stories find him as no ft .Ky/'other stories do." f* / A minor, but important, value of the Bible as a story book is that even the order of the books as printed is appropriate to the stages of the child's development. It has been pointed out by others that the Bible represents also a very significant genetic order. It is a spiritual history of the race, and it is also the story of the inner development of every individual. It begins with the story of the creation, a wonder tale that appeals strongly to the mind of the child. Next comes the period of pastoral life, affecting all How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 125 the child's out-of-door interests. Then is the heroic stage, the story of the God of battles, the stern and just lawgiver and inflicter of punishments like the parent, a narration full of wonderful tales of which the child never tires. The collection then moves on to pictures of civic splendor, to the days of degenerate city life, in which the old ideals for a time wane. Then comes the reign of Christ in the world, the story of the regeneration of society by the spirit of love and sctf-sacrifice. Last of all is the philosophic and the theological stage, in which the story turns upon the doc- trine of the church. THE MANNER OF BIBLE STORY-TELLING Some people seem tn think it necessary to assume a peculiarly sacred manner when they tell a Bible story. Too often, as Miss Cowles tells us, "Bible stories are told in a truly awful manner, and children, without knowing why, learn to dread them. They oftentimes seem to them some- thing unreal, something which they cannot understand, something which they fear. This is the last result the story-teller has desired, but it is the inevitable result of sanctimonious substitutes for love, joy and gentleness. Rightly told, Bible stories arouse in the child keen interest and deep pleasure." It may be that we would be more likely to avoid this danger if we were to begin with the more simple and agreeable narratives, such as the beautiful story of Joseph, filled with wonder, with love, with forgive- ness and moral steadfastness, the wonderful story of the Creation, the Patriarch stories, hero-stories of the book of Judges, the story of David up to his coronation and the pastoral story of Ruth. THE METHOD OF BIBLE STORY-TELLING As to the general method, Dr. Richard G. Moulton, himself a fine Bible story-teller, has given some suggestive special hints as to the way to tell stories from the Bible : 126 MANUAL OF STORIES "The proper preparation of the story-teller is that he should, saturate himself with the Bible story, but it must be story itself, not story and history mixed. "When the story has been properly studied and as- similated, then the freest play of imagination should be used in the rendering. Like the actor, the story-teller is the translator, with the translator's double fidelity to his original and to his audience. The question is not of trans- lating out of one language into another. The question is but out of one set of mental habits belonging to ancient life into another set of habits characterizing the modern hear- ers who are to be impressed. Greek drama, with exquisite instinct, realized this double fidelity in its institution of the chorus. Theoretically, a Greek chorus is a portion of the supposed audience in the theater transported into the age and garb of the story dramatized, which they follow from point to point with meditations calculated to voice similar meditations on the part of those watching the representation of the drama. Every teller of a Bible story must be his own chorus v 1 no.vJ n g' thmngli thp Beetles of the narrative with the outlook and emotions of the men or the children of to-day.^* THE METHOD OF ADDITION Some special suggestions may be helpful as to method. The first is as to the method of addition. It is often helpful to add to the telling of a Bible story details as tn the thoughts of the characters in connection with the incidents which are told. For example, in the beautiful story of Isaac and Rebekah, it would interest the child to tell him what the old servant, Eliezer, was probably thinking^ ahouL after he left the home of Abraham and went forth on his long journey to select a wife for his master's son. It would also be attractive to the children if the story- teller portrayed the thoughts of Rebekah as she came to How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 127 the well that day before she performed her pleasant act of courtesy to the old servant, and especially as to the thoughts which coursed through her mind after he had made the proposal of marriage in behalf of his master's son. Then it would be particularly attractive to consider the thoughts which passed through the mind of the eager ^Isaac as_he_awaited the arrival of the old_servant with his 16ride. The addition of characters to a narrative often makes a story more vivid. In the story of the Good Sa- maritan, for example, it may be well to* give to the Priest, the Levite, the Samaritan and the poor fellow who was robbed, each a family with children. "How many children do you suppose the. Good Samaritan had and what do you suppose were their names?" is a good question. Mentally accepting the children's suggestions, the story-teller will begin with the decision of the man who was later robbed to go down the Jericho road, the entreaties of his wife and children not to take the dangerous road, his replies and his affectionate departure. Similar dialogues in the families of the other travelers will add interest to the narrative and give opportunity for the selfish Priest and the careless Levite to speak out their real characters. So the conversation at the inn may be extended, and if the dialogue that is added does not make more clear the inci- dents and the moral purposes, the method is not only novel but gives force to the verbal story. Incidents may be added, but with caution, to certain Bible stories, and should be those which, as far as possible, we really get from the Scriptures themselves. Failure here is easy. The story-teller-. tnay^^jec^me, ^arjubu^or rambling, or he may so overload his story with fictitious incidents that he gives a different or wrong impression. "Ben-Hur" was truly a powerful and convincing narrative. It adds something to the clearness of our conception of the Roman world in the time of Jesus. Possibly it has helped some readers to a clearer and more beautiful con- ception of the character of the Christ. Most historical 128 MANUAL OF STORIES novels, however, that have been written upon sacred themes are untrue even to the life which they endeavor to delineate and obscure the character and work of the sacred charac- ters beneath the covering of a sentimental imaginativeness. In a few cases it is possible to continue a story or a parable, particularly if it carries the possibility of a second im- pressive lesson. THE METHOD OF SUBTRACTION Subtraction as well as addition is a useful method to apply in the telling of Bible stories. Some stories, particu- larly in the Old Testament, do not contain moral lessons for the young. Felix Adler says; "Sour milk is not proper food for children, nor do those stories afford proper moral food in which, so to speak, the milk of kindness has turned sour." The attempted sacrifice of Isaac, the story of Jael, the killing of Agag, are instances which immediately occur to mind. In telling the story of Hagar, it is possible to exclude what is repellent, only touching the picture of a mother's love. In telling the story of David, it is unneces- sary to speak in detail of David's sin and it is unwise to carry the story beyond the death of Absalom. The story of Moses is in great part unfit for children, not for moral reasons but because it includes motives too complex and mature to be within their comprehension. The childhood of Moses is a drama with which children have been en- tranced. CHANGING THE ORDER OF INCIDENTS It sometimes adds force to the Bible story to change the order in which it is related in the Scriptures. This has already been done for us by some of the Biblical writers, since certain incidents in the Old Testament are told in How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 129 an order different in one source from that in which we find them in another. The story of Mary and Martha may begin, if we choose, with the beautiful sacrificial gift of Mary, working back to the circumstances under which Jesus has entered Martha's home. The story of Peter would probably be given in chronological order but must be separated out from the greater biographies of the Christ. A similar process is necessary in giving the story of Saul. METHODS OF REALITY f\JL-*JL -- Many devices are at hand for making more real the^ characters and incidents of the far-away land and time of tlie Bible. _Curios from Bible lands, pictures of Orientals in costume and reproductions nf sarreH paintings are always helpful. No device is more useful than the stereograph. The stereograph consists, as we know, of two photographs taken by two cameras set at about the distance apart of our two eyes. The result is that the third dimension is added to the scene, our eyes feel around, as it were, the objects and the people, the animals and the foliage stand out in the most vivid way from their backgrounds. To most children such scenes appear life-size, since the eye sees them as the camera does, in the most appropriate distance. The isolation of the child's eyes within the hood of the stereoscope enables him in imagination to traverse instantly the leagues between his home and the Holy Land, and many children have, at least for a brief time, actually the sensation of being in Palestine. This gives the keenest and most realistic sense of being set down in the midst of Bible people and Bible lands. The sand table is a helpful device for enabling children to work out the contour ol which they have already seen through the stereoscope, setting miniature people and objects on it to realize the life and customs. 130 MANUAL OF STORIES BRINGING THE BIBLE PEOPLE INTO PRES- ENT DAY LIFE A helpful way to make a Bible story real is to put the characters into the child's life. "Some very effective tellers of Scripture stories fill in details of modern realism with slang up to date. I have never myself felt the necessity of this; but it is a fault in the right direction. The exact narrative of Scripture must be freely handled ; we may expand where the original is terse, emphasize clearly what the original takes for granted, alter altogether the proportion of parts. The con- dition is that we should first have been minutely faithful in our study of the story, omitting no hint, and wresting nothing out of proportion. This once secured, we become free agents in the translation of what has been learned into terms of modern thought." Earl Barnes found, from some English source, the story of Moses as it had been told by a Cockney boy. We see here how the boy instinctively added his own experience and observations and gave the result, which is good in its main features though somewhat absurd in some of the details, such as "the bulrushes which you have seen on the wall," and "the king's daughter going in bathing," which probably came from some Sunday school picture. The set- ting, however, was a very real experience of his own. "The cold grass" is a delicious transference of English sod to the banks of the Nile. The last paragraph is right out of the boy's own life. "Now little boy Moses had a sister about sixteen, and a father and mother which was Jews. And Moseses mother couldnt a bare to drownd her little boy, so she made a cradle same as they used to make arks. Then she put her little baby in this here cradle, and carried it to the river, and put on the water amongst some bullrushes so as it couldnt float down. And who do you think as it was that used to sit on the grass all day long watching as it How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 131 didnt get loose? It was that there sister Mirium what I said he had. She was a very good young woman an did not mind the cold grass, because she knew as she was in the right, and that the King would be perhaps slain. "This wicked King had a daughter, as you would think she was. She used to go out bathing same as boys, only she didnt swim. She only just went in up to about her knees and then used to put the water over her head and down her body, and then used to tell the other women and her father as she had been in. The women could not see how far she had been in, because of the bullrushes which you have seen on the wall. "One morning she got undresst where Mirium was sitting on the grass, and she walked straight in up to her knees, to where the cradle was. When she saw him, she took him up in her arms, and run back to the bank shout- ing out as she had found a baby while she was swimming. The women all came round, and Mirium edged in among them. The lady was so well pleased as she had got a baby, that she didnt get dresst till she had settled things. But it was not hers, because it was not brought. Only found. "And Mirium said, Tharoh's daughter, shall I go and find a nurse for you ?' and if the lady didnt go and say yes right off. Then Mirium run away as fast as you, and who do you think she fetched for a nurse? Moseses mother, as had had him brought to her. "And Pharoh's daughter said unto her, 'I will actshully give you wages for nursing this baby/ And so Moseses mother nursed her own little baby without laughing, fear she should be found out and not get good wages." Dr. Adler tells the story of Adam and Eve in a way which is somewhat startling and yet in a way which we must acknowledge is good story-telling. "Adam was a fine and noble looking lad. He was slender and well built and fleet of foot as a young deer. Eve was beautiful as the dawn, with long golden tresses and blue eyes and cheeks like roses. They lived in the loveliest garden you have 132 MANUAL OF STORIES ever heard of." He speaks of their relation to God in the following beautiful manner. "But the children were not alone in that garden; their Father lived with them. And every morning when they awoke their first thought was to go to Him and to look up into His mild, kind eyes with loving gladness; and every evening before they went to sleep He would bend over them. And once, looking at a great star shining through the branches, Adam said to Eve, 'Our Father's eye shines just like that star/ " And then he goes on and makes the story that of real children obeying a father's love and reasonable commands. A rather in- genious method of having Bible characters talk to children has been worked out in a volume entitled "The Door in the Book," by C. Barnard, published by Fleming H. Revell Co. Joseph and David, Isaiah and Paul are visited by the author with his readers, and these and others are asked to tell the stories of their lives to the children. THE SELECTION OF BIBLE STORIES The question arises among those who tell Bible stories frequently as to the order in which they had better be given. Dr. Adler believes in adopting a chronological ar- rangement. "It is expected," as he says, ''that the Bible, as they grow older, will be given more comprehensive study and for this they will be better prepared if they have been acquainted with the chronological order from the outset." On the other hand, many people prefer telling Bible stories in the order of interest. This is a method which is being more and more adopted" in the graded classes in the Sunday schools. It is, of course, a great advantage to reach children where they are at each period of their lives. Concerning the grading and use of Bible stories for purposes of moral education, we have our wisest word from Mrs. Houghton : "First, at about three, the story in its simplest outline, and as much as may be in the Bible words. How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES 133 Then at about five an elementary unfolding of its spiritual meaning, in answer to the child's importunate 'Why ?' This is to be followed at about eight by careful co-ordination of the story with the child's first elementary knowledge of mythology and history. A year or two later the co-ordina- tion of these stories with geography and elementary science may be in order, and not very much later, with the child's sense of language as illustrated in poetry and wonder tales. At about twelve or thirteen the alert young mind, expanded from its earliest activity by ever expanding apprehension of spiritual truth, never having been confused by any con- tradiction between its Biblical and its secular acquisitions, always having been harmoniously active in its three func- tions of imagination, emotion and will, is ready for the theological and ethical interpretation of the story, in what may be called the grammar school grade of these interpre- tations, of which he has already had the elementary grade. His more advanced historical work will enable him to put the stories in their proper place in history, and his studies in the classics and English literature to appreciate the liter- ary character of the Bible, the place of each story in the history of literature, its oriental diction and forms of speech. "There will be no difficulty if this method has been pursued thus far, if neither the child's Bible nor his religion has been kept as a thing apart, unrelated to his school work or his weekday life, reserved for Sunday or forgotten en- tirely there will be no difficulty, when this method has been pursued until his fifteenth or sixteenth year, in carrying it farther, and relating it to his higher study of ethics and philosophy, as well as of history and literature, and making it an illumination of both, instead of, as too often sadly happens, a stumbling-block and cause of blind bewilder- ment." Still another order for telling stories is to relate them in connection with the virtues which they inculcate. We, of course, do this instinctively and appropriately. This 134 MANUAL OF STORIES method is to be advised especially in the home, though not to the superseding of the other two methods which have been mentioned. A list is given in Appendix VI of Bible stories in relation to great moral problems and virtues. It is understood, of course, that in some of these stories elimination or adaptation is necessary in order that they may bear the application here indicated. XIII STORIES AND SCHOOL "The children must have something more than a good story; they must have a good story-teller, one with quick sympathies ; one who loves the old stories, who feels the pulse of humanity throb- bing through them all ; whose voice is clear, flexible, interpretive ; whose language is simple, direct, pictorial ; who enters into a dra- matic situation; who has a keen sense of humor; who is willing to sow the seed and let it develop in its own good time." Arnold L. Gesell. Something was said in the first chapter about the edu- cational value of stories in general. In this chapter we wish to speak of their special value in school-mastering education. THE STORY AS A HELP TO ATTENTION The story helps develop the power of attention. It was William James who told us that if we wish to insure the interest of our pupils, there is only one way to do it; and that is to make certain that they have something in their minds to attend with when we begin to talk. That something, said he, "can consist in nothing but a previous lot of ideas already interesting in themselves." Into these we must dovetail the related idea which we want to pre- sent to them. Now of course children get their "previous lot of ideas" from many sources, chiefly out of an inter- esting home life, but the best source in school for such ideas will be stories told by the teacher. In stories the teacher can present a greater assortment of ideas done up 136 MANUAL OF STORIES in attractive packages than by any other method of equal economy and effectiveness. Professor James went on to show that voluntary attention is intermittent, it comes in beats. The aim of the teacher is to make the intervals between the beats as brief as possible. This he may do by making "the subject show new aspects of itself," and es- pecially by finding and furnishing concrete examples of abstract subjects. Whenever we do this, by an illustration, a real instance, we are applying the story-method. One device that is of peculiar value in prolonging the periods of attention is suspense. One can hardly think of any way of producing and maintaining interested sus- pense that is as good as the well-told story. THE STORY AS A HELP TO INTEREST Behind the constant problem of classroom attention is the larger problem of the attentive attitude, of expectancy on the part of the pupil, of a real desire to become a master. Education consists not in communicating facts to a child, but in communicating power. To quote Mr. Lee again : "All that real teaching is for is to say to a man, in countless ways, a countless 'You can.' And all that real learning is for is to say T can.' When we have enough T cans/ there will be a great society or nation." Can you think of any better way to make a child say 'T can" than through stories ? If you are beginning to teach a child a new science, for instance, which will be the better way to begin, to order him to memorize the first page in the textbook or to awaken in him a love for the subject? Will you do better to turn some small wheel in his machinery or to light the fire in his engine? A teacher was once upon a time about to begin a class in plane geometry. Noticing that the textbooks were appropriately no doubt bound in black, he decided not to show them the first day. Instead, he opened the hour with STORIES AND SCHOOL 137 a story, a story about some hero in mathematics. During the period he made a sketch upon the board to show the class something the hero had discovered, how to get the height of a tree by its shadow, perhaps, without climbing it. The next day he told a story about another hero-mathema- tician, and drew another sketch, possibly showing how this master had invented a way to get the area of a school-yard without needing to measure off every square foot. Finally some boy raised his hand. "Ain't there no book about this, teacher; ain't there any way we could get to know how to do some of these things ourselves?" With apparent re- luctance the teacher produced the textbooks from beneath his desk. The pupils fell upon them with avidity. Some days later, when some pupil had made a peculiarly neat demonstration of an original problem, the class broke into spontaneous applause, the first time probably there had ever been applause in a geometry recitation. Was not that good teaching? A group of men was once standing together, and each was telling the kind of watch he carried. "I haven't any watch," confessed Thomas A. Edison, who was among them. "I never wanted to know what time it was." Are we making that kind of men in school ? Is it not too often a fact that a clock is the most conspicuous object in the school room, what the altar is in the church, to which the child turns as faithfully and as patiently "as the sun- flower turns on her god, when he sets, the same look which she turned when he rose?" Someone has remarked that the ordinary school di- ploma is a certificate for weariness, a testimonial that a child has been consistently bored. Can we not devise some certificate for joy, a testimonial that a child has regularly done and learned what he has liked ? Evidence that he has achieved something that he glories in? Proof that he has often forgot what time it was in what he was doing? 138 MANUAL OF STORIES THE STORY AS A HELP TO THINKING AND EXPRESSION But will not story-telling make children flabby and indefinite in their thinking ? Gerald Stanley Lee once spoke of education as "putting a nozzle on the stream of con- sciousness." The definition is not a bad one. Is there not danger that story-telling will be another addition to soft psychology and predigested pedagogy? Will it help put the nozzle on the stream? It will, for while it is by no means the only teaching method, it is of direct help in almost every subject in the secondary school curriculum. Take the matter of verbal expression. A child's own story-telling is his best method for learning to speak well, because it involves both his feeling and his imagination, with a minimum of self-consciousness. And, unlike the stilted "examples" given him by adults or the encyclopedic summaries which he finds in books of reference, "the oral story," as Partridge says, "contains better than any other form the essentials of a good style." In a less degree story- telling by the teacher helps the young pupil toward oral expression, because, as Gesell tells us, "although he says nothing himself, he is collecting the material of speech, storing it somewhere, and sometime he will suddenly sur- prise you with his accumulated possessions." Stories help children to adequate and forceful expres- sion. In the case of the foreign child who must be taught English, or of the American born child who is shy and so lacking in the power of expression, the old folk-tale, with its familiar words and phrases, teaches the child to speak. Encourage the child to tell a story with you. This brings success in increasing his vocabulary. Stories which involve repetition, and thus memorizing, force a child to repeat phrases and to understand the words in them. Oftentimes the phraseology which brings the story to a climax is itself STORIES AND SCHOOL 139 so beautifully phrased that it cannot be told adequately ex- cept in beautiful language. Some story-writers excel in the use of pure and virile English. Among such are Laura E. Richards, Eugene Field and Kipling, and, in the realm of sacred story-telling, Dean Hodges. Hans Andersen was skilled in matchless word painting, much of which has been preserved in the best translations. THE STORY AS A HELP TO LITERATURE Good stories are a help in bringing literature to chil- dren. We say good stories, because we must agree with Gesell that "much of the story-work done in the grades is as demoralizing as vaudeville music ; it is dissipating and cheap." The stories that really take hold are so simple and direct that they are capable of being put into an out- line in one or two short sentences. And this is true of stories that are literature, from Mother Goose to Hans Andersen. "Stories advertise books," as every children's librarian knows, and hence the establishment of story-hours in public libraries, where every such hour closes with an excited drawing of books by the children, with the consequent foundation of the reading habit. The story not only leads a child to books, but, para- doxically, it makes some children independent of books. "Men whose lives are their own dime novels," says Gerald Stanley Lee, "are bored by printed ones." The child of imagination who is getting a lot out of life every day does not have to read to escape boredom. We see the ex- planation here of this curious situation, that one child will be led through stories into the reading of books and another into the execution of certain mechanical projects. The latter may never become a reader. 140 MANUAL OF STORIES THE STORY AS A HELP TO WRITING AND HISTORY Gesell believes that the story is a better introduction to learning to write than more formal methods. "Stories told in words can be retold by chalk or crayon." The teacher will then have the children label their drawings with words and phrases, and their words with drawings. "She will have them fill out their sentences, rebuslike, with sketches; and will allow them to illustrate in their own way the readers which they will make." Thus stories, draw- ing and writing will come into vital connection with each other. Children will write compositions too in comparative painlessness if they are encouraged to do so while the in- terest in a story is still warm. The story is an excellent introduction to history. It helps the child to get away at once from the near and the trivial, to be redeemed from the petty tyranny of dates, to see the main heroic struggle of men and women who were a people rather than the spectacular struggle in war of their soldiers, to recognize how individuals played small parts in a large spirit, and to be inspired by what men have done, for his own present and future duties as a citi- zen. THE STORY AS A HELP TO NATURE STUDY Stories are a good introduction to nature study. We have already learned that nature-myths are congenial to children. Some of them are better interpretations to young children of natural and human origins than any others. No scientist has succeeded in preparing for nursery pur- poses a better account of creation than the double one that is presented in the first two chapters of ,the book of Genesis. The story-approach to geography is on the whole a more STORIES AND SCHOOL 141 scientific as well as a more memorable one than that of naming the capes and pointing to all the archipelagoes. There is no doubt some peril in allegorizing animal life by attributing to animals human traits and motives. The "nature fakir" is the historical novelist of the animal world ; he confuses by mingling fact and fancy. But where the analogies are plainly playful, as in the Bre'r Rabbit cycle, the child recognizes that he is in the field of literature rather than that of nature study. THE STORY AS A SOCIAL UNIFIER Randolph S. Bourne has recently been revisiting the schoolroom of his boyhood. He says that it impressed him chiefly as a place of solitary confinement. The children, though sociable and friendly outside, were here segre- gated, isolated from each other. Since the chief method of learning is by comparing notes, by sharing experience, it seems to him that the school was losing its principal op- portunity. There is something to this. Some of this in- sulating may be necessary to the teaching of the indi- vidual; some of it may be required so long as many chil- dren are taught in one place at one time by one teacher. But in such a situation a story would be an antidote to such separation. It would bring the teacher and all her pupils together into one intellectual and social experience. Further, if Epicurus was right that "Education is friends seeking happiness together," we are losing a mighty dynamic of learning when we sacrifice the mutual enthusiasm of pupils busy in a common task of investigation or mastery. THE STORY AS A HELP TO MORALS The greatest value of the story in the schoolroom, as elsewhere, is its moral value. Of this we can speak here 142 MANUAL OF STORIES but a word, since Chapters X and XI discuss the matter so fully. Stories establish right relationships in school: between the pupils and their teacher, as they learn through these windows to look into her real nature, to understand and to love her; they aid in establishing pleasant relations between the pupils, as the teacher, in the guise of a story, exposes the heart of some situation of malice, unkindliness or snobbery, or pleads for co-operation, helpfulness and loyalty. They take away the tension out of a difficult and strained situation; they give rest when the air is hot or sultry, the hours long, the strain severe. In short, they give the pupils a wider and saner outlook, help make a school code, and strongly affect conduct. The story is specific in value for special types of chil- dren. It encourages and brightens the dullard; it cheers the pessimist or the discouraged pupil; it helps the intro- spective one to look outside himself ; it soothes the nervous child, and it steadies the unstable. Not the least important result of story-telling in school is its reaction upon the teacher. Even a tired, unloving though conscientious schoolmarm can appoint a time and tell stories, but only a self-poised, cheerful, kindly teacher can tell them delightfully, and doing so will not only make her more poised, cheerful and kindly, but will stimulate her to keep in the condition and mood for being so constantly. Like mercy, the story "blesseth him that gives and him that takes." A list of story books conected with school subjects is given in Appendix VII. XIV STORIES IN THE HOME "She would begin with a glow in her eyes and tell me their story. All of their tales she knew, by the hundreds and hundreds she knew them, Tales of the beings divine. . . . Mark! what I as a child picked up, the old man still plays with: Pictures of heroes in sound that lasts, when spoken, forever, Images fair of the world and marvellous legends aforetime, All of them living in me as they fell from the lips of my mother." Denton T. Snyder. Of all of the treasures of the home, none is more beautiful than stories. They have many precious values. THE COMFORT AND CONTENTMENT OF STORIES Stones give both joy and content. We have spoken elsewhere of joy as a kind of power. There is a sane, pure joy which comes from the mother's stories, both in deepening affection and in cheering the disconsolate little child. Children have frequent sorrows. These griefs are often baseless and their causes are trifling or obscure. Some of them can be cured with a kiss, a few of them with an explanation; but best of all remedies usually is a good story. In cheerful stories, especially fairy stories, a child's dreams come true. One can turn almost at random to any fairy story that is told in the good old-fashioned way and find that at its close, the child, content with happiness, has identified himself with some beautiful fulfilled dream. Ed- 144 MANUAL OF STORIES mund Leamy, perhaps the sweetest of modern fairy-tale tellers, illustrates this in a fascinating manner. One does not need to read his story of "Princess Finola and the Dwarf" all through, but only to turn to its last paragraph, to realize its happiness-making effect upon a little child. "The knight took her up in his arms and kissed her; then he lifted her on to the horse, and, leaping up before her, he turned towards the north, to the palace of the Red Branch Knights, and as they rode on beneath the leafy trees from every tree the birds sang out, for the spell of silence over the lonely moor was broken forever." One turns to his most famous story, "The Golden Spears," and reads that delightful close in which he expresses his so frequently expressed love for "mothereen." "And Connla laid aside his spear and shield, and took off his golden hel- met and his silken cloak. Then he caught the little mother and kissed her, and lifted her up until she was as high as his head. And said he : ' 'Don't you know, little mother, I'd rather have you than all the world.' "And that night, when they were sitting down by the fire together, you may be sure that in the whole world no people were half as happy as Nora, Connla, and the little mother." The story is a help to contentment as well as to happi- ness. Children often become restless to get away from home. Psychologists tell us that there are at least two running-away periods in the life of the little child. The prospect of a story is a great inducement to a child to stay at home, a strong force in impelling him to return home from play. It is often possible, through the suggestion of a story, as in "The Golden Spears" just cited, to develop a warm love for the home and the home folks. A good illustration of the kind of story which would persuade a lit- tle child of the safety and beauty of home life is "Little Hare and the Red Fire" which was given in full in Chap- ter X. STORIES IN THE HOME 145 THE COMPANIONSHIP OF STORIES The story strengthens the love between parent and child. "Nothing else so intimately binds mother and child together nor so fully secures the confidence of the child. When they enter together the enchanted realm of story- land, mother and child are in a region apart, a region from which others are excluded. The companionship of story- land belongs only to congenial souls. And so the mother, by means of stories, becomes the intimate companion, the loving and wise guide, the dearest confidant of her child." In a fragment by Robert Louis Stevenson, the writer found the other evening a pretty incident of his visit, when a young man, to Cockermouth in the Lake Country. A happy-minded hatmaker, who "had little things in his past life that gave him great pleasure to recall," loaned him a raft which he had afloat on the river "in order that I might be able to look back, in after years, and get great pleasure in the recollection." Stevenson then discusses whether it is possible thus to manufacture recollections for young people in advance. He thinks on the whole, Not so, and yet almost proves the contrary by confessing that he wants a happy- minded hatmaker "placed here and there at ugly corners of my life's wayside, preaching his gospel of quiet and con- tentment." If in any way it is possible to make recollec- tions for our children that shall, like laid-up roseleaves, be opened some later year with fragrance, I can think of no surer means than by stories ; and if the story be forgotten, I cannot but believe that the one who told them will be remembered and longed for hereafter, just because he wished something beautiful for the future. THE IMAGINATIVENESS OF STORIES The story in the home is a wonderful help in develop- ing the child's imaginativeness. Some of us dimly remem- 146 MANUAL OF STORIES her how, when we were children, we enveloped almost every nook and corner of the home and grounds in the atmosphere of fancy. The grown-up people were, as Kenneth Grahame remembers them, Olympians who, "having absolute license to indulge in the pleasures of life, could get no good of them." Certain corners in the garden or certain rooms in the house were haunted and all darkness was the abiding place of terrors. The author remembers a closet irfhis own home when he was a child which was entered by two doors and which thus became a mysterious secret passage, unfathomed by the neighbors* children, from one part of the house to another. He had also persuaded himself, by knock- ing on the walls, that there was an unaccounted for space between two bedrooms which he was certain was a secret room to be entered through a hidden panel. The hidden panel, however, was never discovered. A chestnut cabinet was minutely inspected because he was certain that behind some of its pigeon holes and softly sliding drawers there was a spring, a hidden drawer and treasure trove. Stories, indeed, encourage children thus to make mysterious and beautiful the house of their habitation. They gild com- panions with glory and add to uninteresting places a con- stant enjoyment. In thus idealizing people, the child gains some reverence for humanity and is induced to look for the sweeter manners and finer virtues of which he has been told in the heroes of romance. What child, for example, could be told of the Nicolete of medieval song-story without discovering unexpected beauty in a hitherto prosaic sister, and indeed in all womanhood? "Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue and smiling, her face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red than cherry or rose in time of sum- mer, her teeth white and small ; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands might have clipped her, and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as she went tiptoe and that bent above her instep seemed black against her feet, so white was the maiden." STORIES IN THE HOME 147 And also dark places and difficult situations are robbed of their terrors and their dread for the child who has learned to become used to conquest through the habit of fairy tales. Life itself becomes not only enjoyable but full of ardor and tranquillity if it is seen imaginatively. "No one," said David Starr Jordan once, "is really miser- able who has not tried to cheapen life." It sometimes seems as if some parents who never tell stories and whose con- versation consists chiefly in complaints about the weather, their neighbors or the high cost of living, have deliberately endeavored to cheapen life. The art of the great masters is that of enhancing life, and the imaginative mother who has insisted upon making life a song, learns how to set her children's lives to music. THE STORY HELPS MORE AT HOME THAN IN SCHOOL All that has been said about the educational value of the story in the school is true of the home, and more. The story is more potent in the home than in the school because it can always be especially chosen to suit the indi- vidual child, while necessarily the story told in school must be selected because of its supposed general interest. In school, the teacher has to awaken interest before starting to tell any story. In the home, the mother can seize the moment when interest exists and take advantage of it. In school there is very little opportunity for children to talk. In the home they talk all the time. In fact, as Mrs. Fisher says : "In undertaking to give a child a lan- guage, a school really undertakes an enterprise for which it is not fitted. Language can only be acquired by living with and in it. A child's arithmetic reflects his teacher, but his speech reflects his mother." The best opportunity which a child ever has to learn to express himself is when he tells the story of the day. Al- 148 MANUAL OF STORIES though to us such narratives are often tiresome and we foolishly act inattentive and restless during their repetition, yet, as Mrs. Fisher says, with very slight direction the child's story of his play may be coherent, sequential, vivid and accurate. In such a story, we have three valuable ele- ments : the subject matter wholly within the child's grasp, the most intense interest, a favorable audience. THE STORY AND HOME READING We have spoken of the relation of story-telling to the reading of books. The school teacher is limited in her choice of books either to supplementary reading or to the volumes which she feels sure are within the reach of the comprehension of nearly all her pupils. The mother, how- ever, deals only with the individual. She may have a pre- cocious child who is ready for books far beyond her years or she may have a backward child or a restless child who does not like to read, to whom she would give just the right access to books. When a story-book has come into the home which the mother suspects to be a little beyond the child's comprehension, the child's present tastes, it is often well not to read it at once to the child or to encourage s him to read it by himself, but to tell the most attractive por- * tions of it in advance. Then the child will plunge with eager curiosity into the book itself. THE STORY AND HOME HANDICRAFT The mother may also supplement and encourage the love of reading by various simple methods of handicraft. It is good to encourage children to make scrap books of favorite stories and pictures which they find in newspapers and magazines. She may use the interest in postage stamps or in the new paster stamps to interest the child in the STORIES IN THE HOME 149 stories with which they are connected. She may even be able to go so far as to get them to make story-books of their own in which they rewrite or illustrate the favorite stories which she has told them; collections brought home from the woods would be also suggestive of nature nuts and berries, seeds and seed pods, cocoons and bird nests, feathers and flowers. THE STORY AND HOME DISCIPLINE The story is useful in the home for purposes of dis- cipline. Surely the child is more likely to be spontaneously obedient who has been in the habit of rinding obedience beautiful in stories. He is more sure to be self-controlled if he has listened to many stories of heroes. There are certain special situations for which a story has definite value. Many a childish task is robbed of its tediousness by the telling of a story during its progress, or as a reward when the work is finished. Many a desolate hour, on a rainy day or after some other disappointment, may be made happy by a jolly tale. Many a misunderstanding may be made right or an explanation pungent by means of the com- munion of spirit which arises in the enjoyment of a happy understanding. An apology becomes unnecessary when two have laughed together. THE NATURALNESS OF HOME STORY- TELLING The naturalness of the mother's story-telling is one of the secrets of its effectiveness. She need not wait, as must the school teacher, for a special story-period. Her story- telling is most delightful when it does not come by appoint- ment. She strikes no pose, she has no gestures, needs no oratory, is not removed by distance. Not only the mother, 150 MANUAL OF STORIES but the guest in the home, is an effective and natural story- teller. Often a curmudgeon of an uncle or a gorgon of an aunt will unexpectedly soften at the interest of the child and pour forth from a long-closed heart fascinating reminis- cences of a far distant childhood. Nothing can be more flattering to one who has thus come to think of middle age as a burden than to find how enthusiastically young folks respect his most unpretentious efforts at story-telling. How eager they are to go back with him along the almost forgotten paths of youth ! How undeservedly popular are his elsewhere unappreciated narratives! Because of their infrequency and freshness, the stories told by a transient guest have an unexpectedly large influence in children's lives. STORIES AT BED-TIME Above all seasons, bed-time, or at least evening time, seums most sacred to stories. The close of the story is usu- ally itself a cadence. It shuts softly like the glory of the evening star. It breathes forth calm as do the dying breezes at the close of the day. Let us instance Edmund Leamy again and note how even the melody of the final words of the story of "The Enchanted Cave" must give rest and satis- faction to the heart of the child. "And Cuglas never returned to the fair hills of Erin, and ages passed away since the morning he followed the hounds into the fatal cave, but his story was remembered by the firesides, and sometimes, even yet, the herdboy ws.tching his cattle in the fields hears the tuneful cry of hounds, and follows it till it leads him to a darksome cave, and as fearfully he listens to the sound becoming fainter and fainter he hears the clatter of hoofs over the stony floor, and to this day the cave bears the name of the prince who entered it never to return." The story is the cadence of the day. It lifts the re- unions of the supper table to a higher level. It explains STORIES IN THE HOME 151 the day's misunderstandings. It is the mutual expression of common loves and common cares. It voices aspirations as truly as a hymn. It sends the child, unwilling to depart, with a smile to bed, and it leaves its echoes even after they sleep. In one home which the writer knows the parents go around to see that the lads are safe for the night. The oldest has pinned a picture of Giant Grim out of "Pilgrim's Progress" on his door as a guardian, and sleeps uneasily, with his percussion-cap pistol in his grasp. In the next room his younger brother still wears his baseball cap on his head, while incongruously clasping his doll to his breast. The bed of the youngest is empty. He is found on the floor nearby, stretched out in calm repose, with stains on his cheeks that speak of ginger cookies, and an odor of sanctity that suggests salt codfish. XV ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING "I would rather be the children's story-teller than the queen's favorite or the king's counsellor." Kate Douglas Wiggin. Let us now have something to say about organized story-telling, under the following heads : The Story-Hour. The Story-League. The Story-Class. By the Story-Hour is meant a regular appointment, in a library or elsewhere, with children, when stories are to be told, either by a volunteer or a professional. By a Story- League is meant a club of adults who meet periodically to practice story-telling, for mutual enjoyment and perhaps with some thought of telling stories to children later. By a Story-Class is meant a group of adults who are being trained by an expert for story-telling. THE STORY-HOUR IN LIBRARIES Story-telling has had a large development in connec- tion with public libraries. The enormous outreach of such story-telling is indicated by the single fact that 81,000 children listened to library story-tellers in the city of Cleve- land alone in 1909. Library story-telling has a specific purpose. That pur- pose, as stated by Miss Engle of the Philadelphia Free Library, is to bring children into contact with the best 152 ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 153 books. The librarian story-teller does not deny that she is a joy-maker; she would not flinch from being a moralist; but her duty is to the particular organization to which she belongs, and since the function of that organization is to get books read, her work as a story-teller is to establish in young people the reading habit. In order to do this well she is not so anxious to have a mob of children who are present because this chances to be the best excitement available at the moment as to gather a' group who appreciate the privilege and whom she can assemble frequently enough and in close enough relation to the library to bring them and the books together. A library story-teller should be sharp to discover whether the children whom the teacher sends her are those who really need stories the most. Where story-telling in the library is popular, tickets of admission are sometimes given out to the children through the schools. It is very natural for teachers to use them as rewards of merit, with the result that the best-behaved children, those who read and study most, those who come from homes where stories are freely told, fill the library, while those who need to learn to love to read and to have their imaginations and ambitions awakened are left out. The audiences that come are orderly, attentive and appreciative because they are prepared audiences, but they are not inspiring and they are a waste of time to a true story-teller. The pleasure of telling stories and the fascination of listening is such that the eager librarian sometimes tells stories when it hardly seems necessary to do so. Why, for instance, should a library appoint a regular Saturday story-hour in a city where children hear stories regularly in school every other week day ? Might it not be a better use of the librarian's time to organize on Saturday a class in story-telling for the school teachers? Wouldn't the li- brarian's story-matter actually reach more children with stories in this way than through the small number of young people who could actually crowd the children's room? 154 MANUAL OF STORIES There should at least be, as there already is in some cities, an exchange of story-programs between teachers and chil- dren's librarians, so that they will not duplicate each other's work. Yet usually there is plenty of room for so valuable a means as story-telling both in the library and the school. And this is so because the teacher and the librarian are telling stories for different purposes. The teacher tells stories for their social and moral effect in the school life ; the librarian tells them in order to bring children and good books together. Some library story-tellers rush in enthusiastically where angels might fear to tread. It must be remembered that it is sometimes more difficult to stop a story-hour than it is to start one. In a small city where the library force is small, a proposition for regular story-telling should wait until at least three difficulties are disposed of : first, the fact that it must necessarily take considerable regular time on the part of somebody to prepare and tell stories; second, that definite and adequate arrangements must be made upon every occasion for taking care of the children comfortably without absolutely shutting up the rest of the library ; third, that in order to do this an extra assistant is usually abso- lutely necessary during the time of the story-hour. Miss Mary Conover has for many years done a beauti- ful work in most crowded and unpleasant surroundings in the Detroit central library, maintaining there for a long time a story-hour almost literally in "the dens and caves of the earth." It was necessary that the stories should be told while the children's room was full of readers and even of persons drawing books. There was, however, as she con- fesses, one advantage. It became necessary to establish there habits of courteous attention on the part of all in the room, old and young. This helped in solving other prob- lems in the administration of their department. The con- sideration thus evoked seemed to spread over into the care of the books and relations toward the children and the li- brarians. Under such circumstances, attention could be ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 155 held in the crowded atmosphere for not more than twenty minutes. It was also necessary to concede the presence of many grown persons, but, as Miss Conover cheerily re- members, "I fancy olden story-tellers had a very miscel- laneous group before them sometimes." The library story-hour sometimes fulfils a function of peculiar value. The three following incidents are typical. In Jamaica, Long Island, it was found that the girls would read only the most pernicious fiction. The Girls' Romance Club was organized in the public library for the sake of finding an antidote to this disease. The result was most encouraging. A unique and encouraging fact is re- ported in Providence, R. L, where the voting booths, else- where forlorn and neglected except for one or two days of the year, are being used for story-telling. In Boston, stories are told by the visitors in its famous home library system whenever a fresh parcel of books is brought by a visitor to a home. There are sixty such centers in Boston close to the people where such stories are regularly told. THE STORY-HOUR ON THE PLAYGROUND E. B. DeGroot, one of our best known authorities in play, concedes that "the only passive occupation that should be given equal place with the other occupations" on the playground is story-telling. "The place of the story here," he continues, "is definite, and comparable with any first-class activity." The following information concerning playground story-telling is furnished the writer by the Playground and Recreation Association of America. Most of the playgrounds tell stories quite informally between active games, when the children are too warm or too tired to play, during sudden summer showers, or at other opportune times. Probably every play leader ought to be able to tell a story fairly well. In Pittsburgh, where 156 MANUAL OF STORIES the regular weekly story-hour is conducted by trained chil- dren's librarians, sent from the Carnegie Library, there is also another period during the daily assembly at nine o'clock in the morning or one o'clock in the afternoon when various play leaders who are willing tell one or more stories to the whole assembly, often five or six hundred children. There is somewhat the same value in this common story-hour for big and little that there is in choral singing. But there should also be stories in smaller groups where the play leader may definitely plan stories that will meet the moral or emotional needs of the group in a way that it is not pos- sible to do with the larger group. On many playgrounds the children are asked to retell the story told the day before for the benefit of those who didn't hear it or in some cases individual children are made responsible for a story themselves on certain days. Always when this is done, the sharing motive should be emphasized. Someone has said the greatest enemies to social efficiency are shyness and bumptiousness, and the public schools are past masters at the development of these qualities ! Let us look out that the public playgrounds come not under a like indictment. Here is one great opportunity to repress the bumptious and help the shy to express, for if the motive be strongly emphasized not to show off but to share and a premium is always placed on "doing it so the other children will enjoy it" like magic the artificiality of the over-bright and the timidity of the repressed melt away and a child-like joy in sharing adds to the charm of the story. In Chicago and in Portland, Oregon, several times na- tional holidays have been celebrated by sending story-tellers to various spots in the parks and having stories appropriate to the day told to the groups which spontaneously gather. And it is never recorded that they lacked an audience. In Reading, Pa., the beginning of the preparation for the festival of "The Pied Piper" consisted of the telling of the story through a megaphone to all that great throng which ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 157 gathers on the cement-covered city reservoir on a summer's evening. THE STORY-HOUR IN THE CLUB FOR STREET BOYS In clubs for street boys story-telling has for many years been a highly prized method of work. Mr. Frank S. Mason, founder and for many years active head of the Bunker Hill Boys' Club in the Charles- town District of Boston, "brings important testimony con- cerning the real value of story-telling to newsboys : "I am free to say that when we first instituted this it was my idea that the great good that would come out of it would be the bringing together of the boys and a nice woman who would have the power to win and charm them through this means of getting their interest ; but, like a great many other things that finite minds conceive, that was one of the smallest benefits. The great good, as I see it, is in the opening up of the imagination, and the getting away of the boy from merely speculating or passing judgment on concrete things, to entering into the region of the unexplored and unknown. In other words, we have found the boy capable of saving himself through this means just as much as through the carpentry classes and through his games and play." Mr. Mason does not deny that the moral influence of the good woman was effective. In another communica- tion to the writer this was strongly stated, but the two con- victions that surprised him were noteworthy: the response of the city boy in a starved environment to the stimulation of his imagination, and the self-saving power of his liberated life. Miss Cara W. Sprague, who was for several years the story-teller in Mr. Mason's club, found some rather sur- prising tests in her experience in telling stories to these newsboys. "It has been a surprising fact to me to find that 158 MANUAL OF STORIES again and again the boys who at first turned up their noses at the idea of 'fish' tales are often most persistent in de- manding giant and witch-tales in a very little while. Boys from twelve to sixteen who have tumbled up somehow without Mother Goose or Cinderella can safely stand many and many a fantastic tale to try to make up in some small degree for some of their precious lost time. I wonder, too, if you will be surprised to hear that to the boys here (at the Lyman School in Westboro, Mass.), in spite of the craving for exciting tales, two of their favorites are quiet little stories about of all things in the world a little girl! The effeminate person, die namby-pamby sort, is termed a 'Tessie.' I was afraid both of these stories might be termed 'little Tessie' stories, but they have been ex- ceedingly popular." What do story-tellers think of this opinion of Miss Sprague's? "I tell much of my story with sprinklings of the boys' own language. I may be very shocking, because , I am given to the use of slang myself, but I can't help feel- ing that (as I can use it naturally) 'the prince' makes a much more vivid impression because he says (apropos of the fight with two fierce wild boars), 'Now you take the little fellow and leave the big guy to me.' Maybe I am absolutely wrong, but I feel very thoroughly that the boys are much more apt to retain other language and to assimilate new and elegant phrases (coming in frequently as they so often do) if there are occasionally more stepping stones." On the contrary Miss Caroline M. Hewins of the Hartford Public Library reminds the writer that Miss Faith Collins, who for years has told stories to newsboys in the Good Will Club of that city, "has generations of scholarly ancestry behind her, and has all her life been an omnivorous reader of romance and folklore. Her manner is so quiet when story-telling that it is hard to understand how she holds the attention of boys, but I know that she does from the books that they ask for from the library." A librarian would thoroughly approve of Miss Collins, but ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 159 the superintendent of a club for street boys, while he too would approve of Miss Collins, would think himself for- tunate to get, for his particular purpose, so good a woman as Miss Sprague, even if she were a wee bit given to the use of slang. Story-telling is not entirely for women. Some young men in social settlements and boys' clubs have found they could get a stronger hold on boys through stories than by games. Mrs. Lowe believes in developing the story-hour into something of an organization. She would have listeners who would become an active organization. There should be, she believes, a club, committees, perhaps grades and promotions. After the story, she would have discussions and would let the organization grow into a society for doing good. This is certainly in harmony with the fundamental axiom of pedagogy no impression without expression. SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STORY-HOUR Apparently a minor yet really a very important detail in a story-hour, whether for children or adults, is that the place of meeting shall be a cheerful one. Such a place ought not to be impossible to find. The writer has in mind one story gathering whose gloomy meeting-place seemed to be a perpetual and constantly perceptible barrier to the work, which was intensified upon unsuccessful afternoons until it distinctly got on the nerves of its members. Miss Sprague sensibly states that in her judgment two essentials stand out most conspicuously in such gath- erings: fresh air and a keen desire to listen. "I have," she says, "visited so many schools and so many clubs and classes where the bad air meant almost of a certainty in- attention, that I cannot help emphasizing it just as strongly as possible." Concerning the even more important matter of the desire to listen, she calls attention to the sometimes 160 MANUAL OF STORIES forgotten fact that in a boys' club there are some boys who are bodily, but not spiritually, in the story-teller's presence. They do not expect to be interested. To such a boy, Miss Sprague would say, "You don't feel like listening, Tommy. Go down and play some games." This sane sug- gestion may make all the difference in the world to the other forty or fifty Tommys and Johnnys who remain. Miss Sprague too no doubt voices the sentiment of most story-tellers when she says, "I am never quite com- fortable and really ready for business unless they are al- lowed to draw their chairs close to the story!" Mrs. Lowe believes that almost any objective thing is better than no object at all to illustrate and give reality to the story. She would get empty bottles and pin about them cloth of different colors and call them people, if neces- sary ; a red cloth for an Indian and a blue one for a soldier. To have a background, she would use a sheet or table cloth to form hills and plains and trace the line of travel of the characters with a finger. She has used corks for brownies and pens for fairies and bottles for children. The young folks readily value any of these home-made substitutes. In an emergency, some child will actually say excitedly, "Get the vinegar bottle. Let's have a giant!" Of course these devices are practicable only in a small group of children. The best story-tellers do not try to "grade" their listen- ers too closely. As one of them said to the writer some- what tartly, "Nobody in the world tries to grade children but school teachers, and that is all they know." If a story has a big interest it will- reach children of many ages. Some children who grade high in school are deficient in imagination and will not enjoy a story as well as those who have less acquisitive information. In library story- hours children of about three consecutive grades in school are often invited together. Mrs. Lowe, from her large experience, has discovered some essential differences in the mental attitude of the boy ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 161 and the girl which she believes ought to be studied carefully. "The boy has an intense desire to build himself, to become great enough to lead others. He has no innate desire to be led; he does not like to follow. He is the sun and the planets revolve about him. His idea of himself is that he must draw attract. This tendency of his ego must be the basis of our teaching. It must be considered as his person- ality and respected. His query is how he may become great. Give him something to do like a man and he will be in- terested. "The tendency of the girl is to be directed. She will follow. She is always willing to revolve about a greater power. She is therefore more teachable than the boy but more unreliable. She is more easily moved than the boy, more easily influenced. Use influence with the girl and argument with the boy. The girl is capable of doing big things and of reaching great heights. "The boy has great sentiments, more perhaps than the girl, but the girl has too much emotion and she disgusts the boy often with his own sentiment. Guard carefully a boy's sentiment. It is the gradual crushing of these half- formed things that ruins his life many times. "The boy does not need you, however, so much as the girl. There are infinite possibilities in the girl that will never be developed if outside influences are not brought to bear on her life. She will not build herself with a motive strength within herself. She will be negatively good with no other instrument than an innate desire to be so, but to assert herself and come into possession of her inheritance, she must feel an attraction outside herself and be more or less influenced by it. The boy has an incentive within himself to build and must only be given material, but the girl, lacking this incentive, can more easily be led to per- fection." 162 MANUAL OF STORIES THE PROGRAM IN THE STORY-HOUR At the Pittsburgh story-hour the story-tellers usually use folk-tales but do not disdain to utilize good stories wher- ever they find them. They believe in Pittsburgh that folk- tales are especially useful, as are folk-crafts, in preserving the traditions of the many countries from which the chil- dren come. This helps explain why mothers are as in- terested in the Pittsburgh story-hours as are the children. There is a large place for what someone has brightly called "stepping stone" stories, those which, without liter- ary style or serious purpose, reach down where the child is and help lift him up to a higher level. In Greenwich, Conn., for example, the story-teller had to contend with the moving picture shows, cheap vaudeville and unsuper- vised play. She found it necessary to begin with very short stories, with no literary flavor, containing lively and excit- ing plots and dealing entirely with affairs of to-day. After she had gotten hold of her audience, she was able gradually to lengthen her tales, to turn to literary material and to tell stories by cycles. Edna Lyman claims that a successful story-hour is not a vaudeville of "attractions." There are three things which a person who talks to a large number of children should en- deavor in the hour to attain. First, he must gain attention. The^jirslLstory is to, the_restjQl_the^ program__wjial_tlie ^orchestra is to the play... It. carries thejstory-teller success- fully through any opening confusion oFrioise to the jriind ojLjtheJistenefs and puts thej^jjTlhe__attitude_of sympathy. Next~c^mes~lfie"" w mofe'Terious and thoughtful thing, often a story which is most fuTTof inspiration and uplift. This Miss Lyman calls "the symphony" of the hour. Finally Is the climax, a story full oF~strength, full of purpose, full of the light and shade of humor and pathos and in- tended to leave the children eager to come again. These three items do not necessarily imply that exactly three ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 163 stories should be told. Such a program, however, is by no means a bad one, and Miss Bailey's story programs in her excellent book "For the Story-Teller" are always ar- ranged in cycles of three. The professional story-teller will wish to scan them all, but one or two samples here will be sufficient. As a "home" program she suggests this : "How the Home Was Built," by Maud Lindsay in "Mother Stories." "The Little Gray Grandmother," by Elizabeth Harrison in "For the Children's Hour." "Sheep and Pigs," Scandinavian folk-tale. Under animal programs, with the special caption of "Rabbits," she suggests these: "Raggylug," by Ernest Thompson Seton, adapted. "Peter Rabbit," by Beatrix Potter. "Bre'r Rabbit and the Little Tar Baby," by Joel Chand- ler Harris in "Nights with Uncle Remus." In arranging a story program some of the possible systems are these: By theme By race By period By author. With children the first is evidently the best. It gives the opportunity for the simplest, clearest, most abiding impres- sion. Within the motif of one theme there is plenty of room for the overture, the symphony and the cadence that Miss Lyman asks for. But the child has little care for sources, Celtic or Scandinavian, for periods, ancient or modern, or whether a story has a known author or is anonymous. These should be reserved for story-periods of adults, with their fully developed interest in literary sources, periods and men. For them such special programs are instruc- tive and valuable. Miss Bailey illustrates more fully the way one typical story group may be helpful by instancing three stories 164 MANUAL OF STORIES which may be grouped about the central thought of indus- try. ''The first story in the story group might be The Sailor's Home/ by Laura E. Richards. This story catches and holds the children's attention at once because its charac- ters are familiar to them ; its setting is one they can quickly see in their imagination. They have much in common with the two children. And the climax of the story is a lesson in industry. The second story in the group, 'Stone in the Road/ makes the children think. It takes them further afield and makes them see in imagination wealth, a castle, gold, poverty. This story makes the children use their dawning power of judging. The last story is 'Drakesbill/ a humorous folk-tale. This story makes a fitting climax, while it still emphasizes the central thought of the story group industry." In the Pittsburgh story-hours, two stories are gener- ally told each hour. One is especially selected for the youngest listeners and the other more general in character. The Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh publishes, from time to time an outline for cycle stories. This cycle sug- gests choice of incidents for the individual story-teller which will make each a dramatic unit; an arrangement of stories to heighten the interest in science as a whole; best sources for the story-teller and those for children ; read- ing for the story-teller's background and supplementary reading for the children. They include lists of books to which reference is made. The following outlines are now in print and may be obtained at 5c. each: Stories from the Norse ; Stories from the Ballads of Robin Hood. Simi- lar lists which will be helpful to the story-teller, published at the same price, are Patriots, and Heroism. The first of these is published by the Pittsburgh Library and the second by the New York Public Library. In regard to cycle stories, especially the long cycles that are used in Pittsburgh, most experienced story-tellers will probably agree with Miss Hewins when she says that the cycle seems to be practical only where the story-teller ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 165 is sure of meeting nearly the same audience every week. Children after all have some other things to do besides attending story-hours, and to stake success with the indi- vidual upon his desire or ability to attend every chapter of the cycle would seem to tend to narrow the congregation to a very exclusive group. The program printed in the appendix, furnished the writer through the kindness of Miss Julia Williamson, direc- tor of story-telling for the Philadelphia Free Library, seems to the writer admirable as a guide for a winter of organized story-telling. The list is a composite, and represents the likings of several intelligent and experienced story-tellers, it is excellently classified and diversified, and it lends itself either to the telling of complete stories or continued stories or cycles of stories. From such a list any story-teller could furnish herself for a whole season. THE STORY-TELLERS' LEAGUE ^Miss Mary L. Shedlock, who came from England__tp Aierjcajn_1902 to tell stories to adults^as well as children, Jias been credited as the founder of the story-telling move-. jiient in America* Those who, like the writer, heard her at Chautauqua, may well credit the story which is told of the child who, after listening to her, wanted to know whether she was a lady or a fairy. Costumed like a fairy god- mother, she did much to revive the old bardic art and groups of story-tellers rose in her train wherever she ap- peared. Coming annually to this country until a very few years ago, her influence was as continuous as it was charm- ing. At ^bojit_the__same time Richard T. Wyche, thgn__a, cotmtrjjjrhoo!^ in *^e smith, caused his modest_biit earnest voice to be heard as to the gospeLoLstory-telling;. Beginning his public work in a southern university,^ has 166 MANUAL OF STORIES gone quietly about the land, _bnngmgjnto ieing_and_power the National Story-Tellers' League. Concerning methods of organizing a local story-tellers' league, Mr. Wyche writes us as follows : "Call together a group of people who have the story- telling work at heart, elect officers and appoint a program committee to arrange a program of stories to study and tell for six or eight months in advance. Let the meetings be informal, social and free; all who join are expected to take part. It is best to limit the membership to about twenty-five or thirty. If others wish to come in, let them form a separate organization. A number of towns have three or four local leagues, each working out its own sal- vation in a democratic way. "Local leagues are affiliated with the National League by the fee of ten cents for each local member, to be paid to the National League. "You will find quite a good deal of information in re- gard to the movement in the World's Work, March, 1913 ; Mother's Magazine, May, 1914; Literary Digest, July 1, 1913 ; Pedagogical Seminary, Clark University, about No- vember, 1909; 'Some Great Stories and How to Tell Them,' a book of mine published by Newson and Company, New York. A number of leagues issue year books." It may be questioned 1 whether there is enough vitality in the story-telling movement to keep alive interested or- ganizations of persons who gather solely to tell stories to each other. The best answer is the results. Since Richard T. Wyche gathered the first Story-Tellers' League on the grounds of the University of Tennessee in the summer of 1902 local societies have been established, some of which have had from six to twelve years of consecutive existence. Of course, not all have been successful. But there would seem to be as much reason for the being and maintenance of a story club as of a card club. The life of any organiza- tion depends, of course, upon the existence of a group who are genuinely interested in its purposes and upon the use ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING**" 167 of the wisest methods. The successful Story-Tellers' Leagues seem to have been those in which the members have actually told stories. They may have passed, through story-telling, into some study of literature, but wherever they have become merely social organizations or where they have depended upon professional story-tellers or ora- torical or dramatic entertainments for their programs they have failed. A story-tellers' league should be a story- tellers' league. It is not a class in elocution; it is not an audience for listening to elocutionists. It is not a group gathered to hear memorized narratives nor to listen to a garrulous person of unorganized mentality. The aberrations which are possible to a story-tellers' league are illustrated by one which was called to the writer's attention where, during a series of folk-tales, a number of children from one of the schools came in costume and illustrated Italian story- telling by dancing the fandango, and where an "African afternoon" was diversified by the appearance of forty cute little "coons" from another school who sang plantation melodies. How shall we get participation by our members in the story-telling? Answer: the very organization of the league must be geared for this purpose. Much rests upon the program committee. They should select programs which involve such a variety of stories that no one person could be expected to tell them all. They should assign far in ad- vance the story-appointments, choosing perhaps an alternate as well as a principal for each opportunity. A helpful de- vice where a good speaker is expected is to ask him kindly not to tell his stories himself but to suggest their titles to the committee so that they may be assigned to individuals. There are, of course, always those who enjoy coming in and having an afternoon of entertainment by listening to the others, but such are not desirable additions to the mem- bership, and a small club in which all are friends and no one feels embarrassed is much better than a big one, in which "entertaining features" are expected. 168 MANUAL OF STORIES There seems to be room for the story-telling method in organizations where some other things are considered. A Sunday school teachers' meeting, in the writer's own experience, was much strengthened by giving a consecutive series of eight meetings out of its winter's work just to story-telling. The teachers appreciated the value of the work for their own teaching, though they would have shrunk from joining an additional society to tell stories indefinitely. The attendance of the group was doubled for that space of time. A short course or an occasional hour for story-telling has been an agreeable means of help to a club of public school teachers. Many summer normal schools offer story-hours on the school lawn after the text- book work and the lectures of the day are over. Those who are interested in education are glad to see the method used wherever it may strengthen the preparation of teachers of the young. THE STORY-CLASS Story-telling is an art of such dignity that those who practice it anywhere ought to be prepared for their worthy calling. Miss Hewins, speaking for the librarians, states their ideal and the too-frequent actuality, when she pleads for a woman "who makes story-telling her profession, and is one of the library's staff, as in New York, where Miss Anna Tyler, a woman with background and dramatic training, goes from branch to branch and meets clubs of the older boys and girls. The difficulty is, however, in finding a story-teller who has had all her life a knowledge of the best stories for children. Half-baked young girls are attracted by what seems an easy method of earning money and pose as story-tellers without more material to work on than a collection like Miss Bryant's 'Stories to Tell to Children/ The same is true of some of the volun- teer story-tellers who offer their services." The Playground Association finds this same difficulty ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 169 among the volunteer story-tellers of the playgrounds. Too often stories are left to the younger or volunteer leaders who happen to have a gift of telling them rather vividly but who often do not recognize the tremendous power they wield. One such worker said she spent half an hour a week looking up and preparing her stories ! How different this from the work of the trained moral diagnostician who watches for the evidences of sick or weak little souls and administers the needed remedy truly a sugar-coated pill or who plans even prayerfully the story which will open the next logical step of development for the normal red- blooded boys and girls. Story-telling is now being taught in nearly all normal and kindergarten training schools. Miss Latham and Miss Moore at Teachers' College, Columbia University, and Miss Gudrun Thorne Thompson at the University of Chicago are doing particularly good work in university circles. Mr. Wyche on his various itineracies gives helpful short courses. A story-class differs from a story-league chiefly in the degree of the seriousness of its members. The element of entertainment is only incidental and it is understood that the pupils themselves must, during every session, actu- ally tell stories. A story-class ought to have a definite program of work based both upon textbooks and upon standard story collections. There should be regular re- quired reading. Even when lectures are given, the story demonstration should be by the pupils themselves. A story- class without actual story-telling by the pupils themselves is as aimless as a laboratory class in physics in which all the demonstrations are performed by the instructor. It is essential that the story-class should be composed of serious-minded persons who not only love children and stories, but who are willing to do hard work and meet good-naturedly the candid criticism of their class- mates and to perform their work, without loss of enthusi- asm, in a true professional spirit. Sane criticism is always helpful and can usually be 170 MANUAL OF STORIES secured. The best method is to ask each person in the room in turn to offer a word of comment after the story is finished. Grammatical errors and lapses in style need not be noticed. The best preliminary to good criticism is for the story-teller to announce before he tells his story for what age and sex it is intended, what atmosphere it is desired to create and what purpose the story is planned to fulfil. If the criticism can follow along these three lines it will be most helpful. Wherever possible the criti- cism should be constructive as well as kindly. "Could Miss S have made herself more clearly understood if she had shortened her approach to the climax in this way ?" " Would she have done better to have used the word at that point instead of to bring out more decisively the character of Prince Charming?" etc. At Teachers' College, where classes in "Telling Stories to Children" are most admirably conducted, training, which is carried out thoroughly along theoretic lines, has a prag- matic and highly effective side as well. After some months spent in studying methods and in class practice, each girl selects a long story preferably one of her favorites studies it carefully, makes it her own, and in due time tells it formally to her teacher and fellow-students. These, for the time being, consciously play at being children again, thus giving the girl on the platform a sympathetic audience at the outset something which every beginner at story- telling needs sorely. Once the story is done, the teacher calls upon various members of the class for criticism, favorable, unfavorable, general, and specific ; and presently everybody has added something of practical value to her knowledge of this seemingly simple art. Always the criti- cism brings out the fact that the girl who can forget herself enough to be easy and natural, yet who is wholly dramatic in the "high places," has played the game most successfully, has told her story most effectively. There are so many ways in which the trained story- ORGANIZED STORY-TELLING 171 teller resembles the preacher that one almost feels like pleading that a textbook in homiletics should be added to the curriculum of the pupil in story-telling. As the writer put down these words his eye fell upon a volume of the Yale Lectures on Preaching in his library, by ex-president William J. Tucker of Dartmouth College. It is entitled "The Making and Unmaking of the Preacher," but it might about as well have been called, 'The Making and Unmaking of the Story-Teller." Doctor Tucker begins by pleading for that mutualness and co-operation between speaker and listener which we have been pleading for between story- teller and child. "The preacher (story-teller) is the man who is able to enlist other men in his work of persuasion" ; these others he is to make "distributing agents of the truth." That which makes the good preacher makes the good story-teller, "the depth and breadth of his own hu- manity"; that which unmakes the preacher unmakes the story-teller, "unreality" of reason, imagination or feeling. The success of preacher and story-teller alike is in humble endeavor "there is no fellowship so great or safe or assur- ing as that into which we enter through humility." Let us emphasize especially that phrase, "the depth and breadth of his own humanity." The story-teller who gets his stories entirely out of the women's page of the evening paper does not get very far or strike very deep. The story-teller who has simply a repertoire of memorized and rehearsed stories somehow fails to hold. Everything that one reads or feels or experiences, if it be treasured, in some way gets sometime into our story-telling and through us into the lives of our children. It might almost be said that the two rules for making a good story-teller, intellectually, are that he should live a large life and keep a note-book. The conversation of almost any man who has done things is an interesting story. The reason why the garrulous are tiresome is that they are overwhelmed by the confusion of non-essentials in their experience. The bards and shamans of old were generally men who had travelled 172 MANUAL OF STORIES widely, who had been among all kinds of people, who had listened intently, and whose matter and art were both fine because the matter was weighty and the memory of it was enthusiastic. If there are in this world persons who have frequent privilege of feeling themselves fairy godmothers, they must be you who have made story-telling a profession. To enter a room full of children, with whom you have previously made friends by stories, with so many eager "hearts ajar for your arriving," is one of life's keenest pleasures. The fact that everyone longs to touch you, to sit by you, to look up adoringly into your face, shows that you have their affections as well as their attention in your grasp. You step into a mood, personal and social, which assures you of a most potent influence. You take rank with the world's best prophets and truth-tellers. You are one of the makers. PART II THE BOTTLE STORY-PEOPLE Introducing Some Friends of Mary Lowe XVI THE BOTTLE STORY-PEOPLE "Lead onward into fairy land, Where all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive." Robert Louis Stevenson. WHO THE BOTTLE PEOPLE ARE Once upon a time the Fairy Godmother wanted to find somebody who could show children the fairies. She looked everywhere; in Germany the land of fairies, in France and Chili and Hindustan, and finally in our own country. And there at length she discovered a little white- haired lady who still loved Bo Peep and Little Boy Blue and who was always at home to children. And when the Fairy Godmother told Mary Lowe what she wanted to do, Mary Lowe nodded her head and just laughed and said, "I understand." Mary Lowe is something of a fairy herself, and she knows all kinds of magic. So she took her scissors and her ragbag and some paper and her pen and ink and some bottles! and went to work. And when she had got done working, she could show chil- dren the fairies. After she had led a great many children into Fairy- land, Mary Lowe asked me to tell grown-up people how she does it. Bottle dolls have always been made, but they have never been used to teach a new kind of story-telling until now. 175 176 MANUAL OF STORIES The new kind of story-telling is: to create enough dolls out of empty bottles to represent all the characters in any story and then to tell the story by causing the bottle people to enact the parts indicated by their characters. THE ADVANTAGES OF BOTTLES Every child loves to live in a mimic world and likes to produce in his plays the dramatic activities of the char- acters who are his imaginary companions. For such play he does not require close adherence to actuality. It some- times seems as if the cruder the objects of play the easier it is for the child to crown them with the glamor of fancy. The trouble with all endeavors to play dramatically has been that the characters of the Noah's Ark are not sufficient in number to portray any story, and doll characters con- structed out of paper are too flimsy or destructible for practical uses. So Mrs. Lowe, in making bottle dolls for her story-telling, has solved one of the most difficult play- problems. Bottle people are substantial and inexpensive, and they are realistic enough to satisfy the imagination of the children. They are fully as lifelike as rag dolls, and these, as everybody knows, are much preferred by children to the most artistic wax doll. They stand up better than rag dolls. Wooden ten-pins or other turned wooden things with broad bases would be practicable because they can be pierced with tiny tacks, but bottles have the advantage of coming in so many sizes. One of the most desirable materials for the making of character dolls in places where such material is common is gourds. Cut off at the bottom they are as stable as bottles, and Nature has furnished them with heads, very quaint and often humorous. Hard material is not very cuddly, but then, as Mrs. Lowe reminds us, people do not hug kings and queens to any great extent, nor put wet thumbs in their eyes. The THE BOTTLE STORY-PEOPLE 177 idea is not to turn these into rag babies, to be handled in any undignified manner. Most of the play, especially the dra- matic play, of children is serious. Chessmen are not in themselves fascinating, but they are used for playing one of the most fascinating of games. Bottle dolls are the chess- men of children, used for playing the serious game of Life. One of the favorite values claimed by educators for the use of dolls is that they cultivate the maternal instinct. No such claim is made for Bottle Dolls. They are not made to be cuddled. They develop respect rather than the warmest affection of children, although children do get to have their favorites and to think of them very warmly. The attitude of the average child toward the average doll is the special one of providential love for that which is little and helpless. The average attitude of the ordinary child toward the Bottle Doll is similar to that which he holds toward the adult world into which he has begun to enter. It is a foreshadowing of a recognition of the value of character and the variety of personality. This is why Bottle Dolls appeal to boys as much as to girls. The boy would be disgusted to see a girl fondle a Bottle Doll. He would regard it as an evidence of disrespect. The Bottle Doll is to the girl as well as to the boy a valuable interpreter of life. Bottle Dolls are inter- esting to children from six to fourteen years of age, to boys as well as to girls. To young children the characters make a charming Mother Goose Town. They do a very desirable thing in keeping big girls playing dolls longer than they otherwise would, for they offer them a miniature world of grown-ups. THE RELATION TO HANDICRAFT Emphasis should be made at the beginning upon the fact that this is more truly a system of toy handicraft and of story-telling than of play. That is, the dolls are not chiefly intended to play house with or to roll balls at, but to work out real and imaginary stories, little dramas. 178 MANUAL OF STORIES The handicraft comes into the making of the doll characters and the scenery and accessories. As in much other play of children, getting ready is about the most de- lightful part. The story-playing is the climax of a delight- ful afternoon with scissors and thimble. Their successful use demands the leadership either of an adult or of an imaginative child. Almost all children turn out to be imaginative if they have a chance. Usually children will make up their own stories with the dolls as soon as they have heard one story told with them by an adult. This story-playing presupposes an audience, but if the audience is composed of ordinary dolls arranged in appreciative attitudes it usually proves sufficient. Mothers who have kept the child spirit tarrying in their hearts will find bottle-doll story-telling an infinitely delightful occupation with their children. The little folks will enjoy making and arranging the characters; they will retell the stories, they will actually enter the Enchanted Land themselves and often find there new adventures and fresh surprises. When other children come in they, too, will be charmed, and there will never be any trouble about hav- ing a party when the bottle characters are invited. A NEW WAY OF DEVELOPING THE IMAGINATION The philosophers are telling us how necessary is the element of make-believe in children's lives. Here is a most skilful way of developing it, not in the merely passive way of story-reading, but through the most active, self- directing, serial play. There is also an even more important opportunity the moral element. But of this in Chapter XX. XVII THE BOTTLE CHARACTERS Mrs. Lowe says her first endeavor in her little pla> was to make the children love the dolls. It helped, of course, to do this when the children made them, but they learned best to do it by knowing and feeling that every doll was a personality. For this purpose Mrs. Lowe created a King- dom of Dolls, establishing therein certain rulers and citizens with fixed names and characters. This Kingdom was constituted of the familiar charac- ters in the classical children's books, turning most fre- quently to that cornerstone of education, Mother Goose Melodies. Mrs. Lowe has developed when she has played with a group of children for several years as many as three hundred characters, but it is necessary at first to master only a few. The following are suggested, with hints as to what they naturally represent in children's minds. They are arranged in three classes. THE KINGDOM OF LOVE 1. The Fairy Queen (or Godmother) the Spirit of Love, who has left Fairy Land to rule over the Kingdom. 2. Buttercup. This cheery fairy of brightness and light, the blossom that is like a candle, who has never dis- obeyed the King, is the untainted better nature that shines in the heart of every child. She is the Queen's Messenger. 3. Alice of Wonderland another Messenger of the Fairy Queen ; "the only person the children know who has 179 180 MANUAL OF STORIES been in the wonderful Land the children love." (Another messenger might be Shakespeare's Ariel.) 4. Tiny Tots who keep alive the mother love of the Fairy Queen, for "it takes giving and not receiving, the innocent faces and the light clasp of the little hands, to keep love warm and unselfish." 5. Puck the spirit of irresponsible mischief. THE KINGDOM OF LAW 1. Old King Cole a typical earthly monarch who keeps the Kingdom in order. He puts anyone who hurts another in a great north tower, where it is dreadful to stay. 2. The Queen of Hearts a lovely Queen who always pleads for those who do wrong, because she knows that if they did not drink the brew they would be good. 3. Jack o' Hearts a boyish prince who likes the com- mon people, and who is a messenger of the King and Queen. 4. 5. The Master and the Dame, attendants of the court, really school teachers, a childless couple who love all children. 6. A High Sheriff or Policeman, a kindly soul who tries to maintain order. 7. The Giant Killer, every boy's hero, an attendant at the court. 8. Humpty Dumpty, a comedy character, round as a ball, and unsteady on his feet. THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN THE EN- CHANTED LAND 1. Old Mother Hubbard a gossipy soul who is fond of pets. 2. The Farmer's wife a good housekeeper. THE BOTTLE CHARACTERS 181 3. Mary Contrary an energetic school girl who is fond of flowers. 4. Polly Flinders a nice little school girl, who never- theless sometimes gets into the cinders. 5. Little Miss Muffet who is always afraid of things. 6. Bo- Peep the Farmer's daughter; a shepherdess; aggressive and sometimes naughty. 7. Red Riding Hood a small girl who has many sur- prising adventures. 8. Lena a thoughtless child, who often listens to Puck. 9. Bessie Brooks who goes to walk on Sunday, and thinks she is a young lady. 10. Johnny Green who likes mischief, and who put the cat in the well. 11. Jack Horner the little boy who is greedy, and who likes to brag. 12. Tom Piper a little boy who takes things. 13. Little Boy Blue a lovable little fellow, always full of cheer; brother of Bo-Peep. 14. Wee Willie Winkie who doesn't like to go to bed. 15. Tommy Snooks who thinks he is a man. "He and Bessie Brooks are the only ones who are of the sweet- heart size. No little world would seem complete to chil- dren without the sweetheart element." 16. The Farmer. 17. A Giant. 18. Sister Marie "She has no life of her own, but lives for others." 19. The Witches who try to kill love, and rule with hate. 20. The Lovely Lady anybody's mother. 21. Ruth she represents any girl listener; daughter of the Lovely Lady, visiting the Kingdom of Love. 22. Frank any little boy listener. Sometimes a child personalizes himself as "Frank" 182 MANUAL OF STORIES or "Ruth," and sometimes he selects another for his favorite character and thinks of himself as walking in that character through the story. It is the experience of adults who have become familiar with the dolls by name and character that they find themselves loving certain ones, and these always the ones whose names and histories they know and whose personalities are impressed on their minds. One can at once see the fascinating possibilities in the way of adding other familiar Mother Goose characters to this assortment. The Crooked Man ought to be a winsome personality. Tommy Tucker who sang for his supper should be a cheer- ful lad. The Old Woman who lived in a shoe should be very motherly. Bobby Shafto should be the sailor. Three Wise Men of Gotham might represent the Would-Be Wise, Simple Simon the fool who knows that he is not wise. The Old Woman who brushed the cobwebs from the sky would be a happy addition to the element of fancy. CHANGING NAMES DOES NOT CHANGE CHARACTERS In actual bottle-doll play it is necessary sometimes to give a doll a new name, but it is usually not necessary to give it a different character. The child simply selects a doll that has a similar character and gives it a temporary new name and a permanent added experience. Thus the dolls really live a consecutive life, though "each in his time plays many parts." If, for example, one wished to tell the story of Cin- derella the bottle people might assume the characters, as follows : The Farmer's Wife as the mother-in-law Bessie Brooks Little Miss MurTet Us the proud sisters. Mary Contrary THE BOTTLE CHARACTERS 183 Ruth as Cinderella. Jack o' Hearts as the Prince. The Master The Dame The High Sheriff as Courtiers. Humpty Dumpty The Giant Killer The writer once saw the story of the Good Samaritan told somewhat in this way: The Master as the Priest. The High Sheriff as the Levite. The Farmer as the Man who went down to Jericho. The Giant Killer as the Good Samaritan. Humpty Dumpty as the Inn Keeper. Johnny Green, Tom Piper and Tommy Snooks as Robbers. The Dame as the Priest's Wife. Mother Hubbard as the Levite's Wife. The Farmer's Wife as the Man's Wife. Bo-Peep as the Samaritan's Wife. The Child Characters as Children of the Levite, the Man who went to Jericho and the Good Samaritan. XVIII THE ENCHANTED LAND As soon as a child steps up to the dining-room table upon which the action of the bottle play is to take place, he is supposed to have entered the Land of Make-believe, which encircles the Enchanted Land. The Enchanted Land itself is a table or any raised surface about 6 feet by 3. The idea of a Kingdom placed on the floor does not seem to give satisfaction. There is a sort of inconsistency about it. The child feels too large for the little world at his feet, but when the mimic world is placed on the table, the idea of its own completeness is unmixed with the bigness of the child's person. The arrangement of the table itself, suggested in the following diagram, is to be compared with the frontis- piece. The squares marked "platforms" are two levels, which may be made by boards of lessening sizes, the smaller at the top, set on glasses or blocks, or by boxes of different sizes. Here stand the principal characters until they are used in the story-games. On the top level are the Fairy Godmother and her attendants, on the second level are the King and Queen and the gentry, and on the table stand the minor characters, the common folks. The "house" is where the common story-characters usually live and perform their indoor activities. The "lot" is yard, farm or playground, as the case may be. The center space is the scene of action, and the place marked "witches' brew" is where all the mis- chief originates. THE ENCHANTED LANI> 185 186 MANUAL OF STORIES HOW THE CHARACTERS MOVE ABOUT A simple way to get a stage effect is to set the table on the porch against the window, use the window curtain as the stage curtain and let the audience sit just inside. When children play by themselves they usually place all the characters in their appropriate stations at the begin- ning and pick them up and move them about the vacant space, as is indicated in the story. When an adult story- teller is entertaining the children it is better to have the stage vacant at the beginning and station the dolls one by one, hinting at their characters and histories briefly as she does so. She needs to place in view for a given story only such dolls as are used in that story. You can see at once how to tell any story by the use of the dolls. Frank and Ruth "walk" and "talk," as they watch the other characters in action. The story usually be- gins with the characters stationed in front of the house door. When they go to the hills the children come out to the "lot," thence they may run down to where the witches are. From there they may come back, tarrying in the center space, to the house. Buttercup comes down from her shelf when she talks with the children and remains near to watch over them. When the dolls are "talking" they face each other, and the real children give the dialogue. USES FOR THE SAND TABLE The sand table makes a valuable background for bottle- doll story-telling. Already the publishers of Sunday school supplies and the Missionary Education Movement have fur- nished us with tiny character dolls, houses, etc., which, mounted on the hills and valleys of the sand table, help wonderfully in making real the background of a missionary story. A small set of Bottle Dolls, thus arranged upon the THE ENCHANTED LAND 187 sand tray, or, better still, upon a sandy beach, may enact more satisfyingly out-of-door scenes than upon the flat dining-room table. Mrs. Helen B. Paulsen, an expert story- teller, who has found the story of the Good Samaritan es- pecially attractive when told with Bottle Dolls, regards this as her favorite for work with the sand background. She heaps up the sand to represent mountains that are round about Jerusalem, works out with her fingers the valleys that lie along the Jordan and there gets the setting for the dramatic tale, which she closes at the "Inn," which she sets up in a level place at the foot of the valley. All the out-of- door stories given in this Manual may be told with added interest with sand for earth, twigs for trees, ribbons for streams and window glass for lakes and seas. THE ALLEGORY OF THE ENCHANTED LAND Mrs. Lowe has added immensely both to the interest and the moral value of her system by devising a simple but beautiful framework of allegory against which all her characters have their setting and by reference to which all stories may be told. A lady who had the privilege of hearing Mrs. Lowe tell her stories to an actual circle of children describes the result as follows : "First, she introduces the Gypsies in a scene suggestive of the three witches in Macbeth and impresses the children with the thought that when they drink of the 'brew* they will commit evil deeds. Then she brings in the Buttercups (representing the gold or good in our hearts), who were created by the Invisible King, and at their own request were later given human form. (All this is told in rhyme, legen- dary style.) Perhaps a sweet little Dutch doll 'drinks of the brew' (allows her evil thoughts to dominate), and instantly the children catch their breath with sympathy. (Thus they learn the lesson of charity rather than resentment toward those who do wrong.) But the Invisible King sends Butter- MANUAL OF STORIES cup to the rescue. Each child understands that by the In- visible King is meant the Great Power back of all things, who created all things good, but somehow the Gypsies crept in to do the deeds of the Devil. There is not enough theol- ogy to cause criticism from any parent, just enough to lay the foundation for working out the idea of right and wrong in all the practical relations of everyday life in the child world." But lest we introduce confusion at this point, we will not describe Mrs. Lowe's allegory until later. The descrip- tion in Chapter XIX of "How to Enter the Enchanted Land" explains it as it appears to children, and Chapter XX on "Mary Lowe's Philosophy" gives the whole system. XIX HOW TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND After children have begun to understand the bottle characters, they need only the dining-room table for a stage. But the first time the characters are explained, either by an adult or a child, it is well to have two tables a small one such as a serving table for placing the characters before they are introduced, and a larger one such as a dining table for the scenes of the stories. These tables should be placed side by side about ten inches apart, and they may be bridged by a shingle. All the doll characters should be marshalled on the smaller table in the order in which the story-teller intends to present them, those which are to come in first in the front rank. On the larger table plat- forms should be arranged in the one corner as on the chart, the house in another, anil the kettle for the witch's brew in a third. INTRODUCTORY SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STORY-TELLER When the children have gathered and all is ready, the story-teller should collect them about the larger table. There is no harm in letting the children examine the dolls, as they stand on the smaller table, before the story begins, so long as they do not touch them. For if they touch them, they are likely to knock them down or disarrange them, and they will take greater interest if they are told that they are going to be allowed to handle them just as 189 190 MANUAL OF STORIES soon as the story is over. Interest may be excited by asking them to try and guess whom each one of the dolls represents. Thus they will be more intelligent in making suggestions when you begin the story. The story-teller should stand at the backside of the two tables in such a position that she can readily take the dolls from the front rank first, and lead them across the bridge and place them in the Kingdom. HOW THE STORY-TELLER BEGINS Directions for moving the characters are given here (in parentheses) and some of the dialogue is indicated such as is likely to occur during the narrative. It is desir- able to get the children to answer questions and talk as much as possible. Making sure first that all are in a com- fortable position to see and hear, the story-teller may pro- ceed somewhat as follows: How many of you have ever read "Alice in Wonder- land"? Ah, I am glad to see that so many of you have! You remember that it tells all about Fairy Land. Do you remember the place where, after Alice has taken the magic key, she suddenly finds herself becoming very little, so small that she can go right through the key-hole ? These two little people (taking Frank and Ruth in each hand and carrying them across the bridge and placing them on the side of the table near the children, facing them) are a boy and girl, brother and sister, who have come over from the land where you and I live into Wonderland, and who have suddenly become small just as Alice did. The boy's name is Frank, and his sister's name is Ruth. This (point- ing to the small table) is where the doll people go to sleep. But this (pointing to the large table) is the Wonderland, where all sorts of strange things happen. It is a kingdom all by itself, with its rulers, its nobles, and its common people. And we are going to call it the Enchanted Land. How TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND 191 Now in order to get into the Land you see these dolls have to cross this bridge. Before they cross the bridge they are just common bottles, covered with paper and cloth, but after they cross over the bridge of Make- believe then they become fairy-like people. If you stand real close about the table so that your shoulders touch that is right, stand a little closer you will all be in the Land of Make-believe, too, so that you can look right into this Enchanted Kingdom. INTRODUCING THE PEOPLE A long time ago the Invisible King wanted someone to rule over his Kingdom who would represent all the love in the world. Who in the world loves us best? That's right, our fathers and our mothers. So the King took from his Fairy Land the Queen of the Fairies, because she had in her heart the love of all the world. (Carry the Fairy Queen across and place her in the center of the upper platform, and as her attendants are mentioned, bring them over and place them beside her.) Now, of course, in order to love, it is necessary that there should always be somebody to be loved. So in order to be sure to keep her love alive, the King gave her these Tiny Tots, always to be with her, for her to care for. Next he remembered the flower that he loved best the butter- cup, and he said, "My children may sometimes forget to do the things I want them to do, so I will have this little flower, which is as bright as a candle, and have it to guide the children in the right way." So cheery Buttercup, the flower with the face of a child, became the Queen's mes- senger. And for her other messenger, there is Alice of Won- derland the only real child whom you know who has visited the Wonderland that all the children love. This is Puck. He is the spirit of mischief. He flies 192 MANUAL OF STORIES about wherever he chooses. Some find him very charming, but you will discover that he is very unreliable. The people down below cannot see the Fairy Queen and her court, but the Fairy Queen can always see all the children. And Buttercup and Alice of Wonderland are always ready to hasten down and do her bidding. In our world we have all sorts of people, and so in the Kingdom there are the high and the low. Here is jolly Old King Cole. We must have a King who can be happy as well as make the laws, but though he is happy he is also stern. And when any one does wrong he shuts them in his grim North Tower. Here is the Queen the Queen of Hearts. And she is always teasing him to be merciful when he starts to put any poor fellow in the prison. Now come the attendants of the King and Queen. This little fellow is Jack o' Hearts. Prince Charming is his other name. Although he is a Prince he loves his people, and they of course love him. And here is the Giant Killer, brave although he is so little. Now we come to the common people, and there are a lot of them. I must bring in the ladies first. (Bring them in three at a time, but separate each one and clearly explain who she is before placing her on the table near the house.) Here are some of the older ones. Can you guess who this is? She lives all alone with her dog, and her cupboard is often bare, because she is away gossiping so much. Yes, this is old Mother Hubbard. And who is this who cut off the tails of some mice with her carving knife? Yes, the Farmer's Wife. She is the mother of Bo-Peep and Boy Blue. She has to work very hard taking care of her house and her children. Lena is a little waif from the city. She is so thoughtless and listens so much to Puck's mischief, that although she means no harm she is often in trouble. Mary Contrary can you say the verse about her? Yes, that's right. She is a good-hearted school girl who How TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND 193 loves her pretty garden. And can you say the one about Polly Flinders? You can guess what she is like. She is a school girl, too, and a friend of Mary's, but so slovenly that sometimes she gets into the cinders. And here is Little Miss Muffet, who is always getting scared to death over nothing. Who was it who lost her sheep and had to go back to find them? Yes, Bo-Peep. Whose child do you think she is not the banker's nor the minister's. Yes, she is the farmer's daughter. Who is it that is dressed in a red cloak, and is always having surprising adventures? You are right, it is Little Red Riding Hood. And here is a child almost grown up, who goes to walk on Sunday. Her name is Bessie Brooks. Here are three men. First is the Farmer who married the Farmer's Wife, and who is the father of Bo-Peep and Little Boy Blue. Here is the policeman who arrests the bad children, and brings them to Old King Cole. And here is the Giant of whom everybody is afraid. Here are three boys whom you know the policeman has to watch. Do you remember what Little Johnny Green did ? Yes, he is sometimes very cruel. And do you recall the lad who sat in the corner, and who was so greedy, and who boasted how big he was ? This, of course, is little Jack Horner. And this boy sometimes takes things, "stole a pig and away he ran." His name is Tom Piper. Here are three more whom you may like better. The little boy who blows his cheerful horn. Yes, Little Boy Blue. And who is his sister? Yes, he is the brother of Little Bo-Peep. Who is it that goes around in the night at eight o'clock, and doesn't want to go to bed ? Wee Willie Winkie. And this is the biggest of the boys Tommy Snooks. He and Bessie Brooks are sweethearts. Tommy is supposed to work for the Farmer. These boys and girls are never bad unless they drink of the Witch's brew. This is Sister Marie. (She may be explained either as a nurse or a deaconess.) She is always where there are 194 MANUAL OF STORIES people in sickness or trouble. She lives entirely for others. How beautiful she is! But who is this ugly creature? She belongs over here by the big kettle. This is the Witch. (Three witches may be used.) She certainly does not belong in the Kingdom of Love. In fact I must explain that all this corner around the Witch's brew is known as the Lonesome Land. It is very far, indeed, from the Enchanted Land, although as you will see, sometimes the children stray down into it. And last, with a tiny baby in her arms, comes the Lovely Lady. She is the mother of Ruth and Frank. She is your mother and mine, and when she comes into the King- dom with her children, it is always to protect them and to help them. Now, I want to tell you a little story which shows how a real boy and girl found their way into the Enchanted Land. (The statements in parentheses which follow are stage directions for the story-teller. Very few are given, so as not to interrupt the current of the story, but wherever action is suggested, the story-teller should imitate it by cor- responding action with the dolls who are being named.) FRANK ENTERS THE ENCHANTED LAND Once there was a girl named Ruth (The story-teller stands Ruth near the front of the table, where the children can see her) who could see the fairies. She had a brother whose name was Frank. (Stand Frank on the smaller table or else upon the teacher's outstretched palm.) Frank could never see the fairies. Often Ruth would say to Frank, "Come over here through the Land of Make-believe where the leaves have fallen, and I will show you real, live fairies." Frank would try to follow her, but there always seemed to be a big white cloud between him and the Land of Make- How TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND 195 believe. He would get as close as he could to Ruth, and then he would say, "Where are they?" "Hush!" she would whisper. "Breathe softly. Fold your hands so. Listen carefully, and I will tell you how to look for them. They are so beautiful, and oh! so tiny and sweet, dressed in green and brown, or sometimes in red and yellow. Their faces are so cute and smiling, and every minute they seem to change. When you know them, and can see them, they will seem to you like a beautiful dream. The brown and green will mix themselves so that you will think they are fallen leaves, shaken down by the wind, for they are continually dancing to the music of the breeze. Listen!" Ruth would clasp her hands, and sit very still, with a happy expression on her face. "There! Did you not hear them? Can you not see them?" But Frank would always say sorrowfully, "No, it's too bad, but I can't see them, and I don't believe in them." "What a pity for you, Frank. You believe in ugly things, and some of them you never saw, either. Well, I cannot lend you my eyes, nor make you love fairies, you do not understand what you miss. It is just as if you were blind, and could not see the flowers or the blue sky." One day when Ruth was at home (The story-teller sets Ruth down on the small table.) Frank was playing alone on the beach, building caves in the sand. He was lonesome. There was no fun playing in the water without Ruth. After a while he left the sand, and climbed the bank and found the nook where Ruth had told fairy tales so often. The leaves were scattered about. He gathered a mound of them, and with his curly head lying on his cap, and his round limbs half buried in the leaves, he decided that he would wait until the fairies came. If he could not go where the fairies were, perhaps they would come to him. "Ruth will be so pleased if I should see them," he thought. Soon 196 MANUAL OF STORIES Frank's eyes grew heavy. "I hope I am not going to sleep," he said slowly. All of a sudden Frank found himself in the Land of Make-believe. Some unseen hand seemed to be leading him forward. (The story-teller takes Frank across the bridge from the small table, to the Enchanted Land, and laying him down, covers him with leaves.) As soon as Frank had crossed over into the Enchanted Land, he felt a soft tap on his hand. Looking down, he saw a very tiny person smiling at him. "I am the Fairy Queen," she said. (Stand the Fairy Queen close to Frank.) Frank sat up, and found himself no larger than his small visitor. Then he noticed that the fairy looked very much like Ruth, only a thousand times smaller. "How are you, Fairy Queen?" he said boldly. "I am always well," she answered in a very sweet voice. "Frank, you may come with me and see all the fairies that visit these woods. They are all in Fairyland to-day." He took her little hand, and found himself able to move with a thought. Light as air, free as a sunbeam, happy as a bird, he floated through space with the Fairy Queen. (Suit the action to the words.) "Where is Fairyland?" he whispered softly. He had lost his big boyish voice. "Here we are !" said the Fairy Queen. Frank found himself in a high and beautiful place, which seemed to be above the clouds. Many bright colors danced before his eyes. He was at first too dazed to see clearly. When he became accustomed to the light he saw a cloud of tiny creatures coming toward them, merrily waving a welcome. (Move the Tiny Tots toward the Fairy Queen.) Coming near, they knelt an instant before the Queen, and then began the most bewildering fairy dance conceivable. Frank's feet danced in spite of himself. How TO ENTER THE ENCHANTED LAND 197 I cannot begin to tell you of the adventures that fol- lowed. The Tiny Tots took Frank to the bottom of the sea, where he saw baby fairies, nestling among the sea- weeds, soothed by all the tender lullabies that the happy earth mothers sing to their babies. -They took him to mountain tops, where the other baby fairies were playing "Hide-and-Seek" among the clouds. They led him to the fairy kitchen, where fairy cooks were laboriously rolling a blue plum up an incline onto the edge of a table, preparing to make an enormous plum pudding. Finally, they took him to a broad meadow near a clear, silvery river. Here fairy boys and fairy girls were playing together. (Bring the Tiny Tots and Frank down to the table.) Frank seemed to have lost sight of the Fairy Queen. He played ball for a while with the fairy boys. And then they sat down on the grass beside the river, and told him about the wonderful moonlight feast that was to be held that evening. It seemed that the girl fairies would do the cooking, but some of the boy fairies were jealous, because they wanted to show that they were better cooks than the girls. "Why don't you rebel?" said Frank, in a bold voice as much as possible like that he had used before he came to the Enchanted Land. "What is 'rebel'?" asked one of the fairy boys. "I will show you," said Frank, throwing out his chest ; he wanted to show off a little to the boys. "It is like this :" and he opened his tiny mouth, and called as loud as he could, "Ha, ha! old Fairy Queen, we boys will make the cake to-night for the midnight party. Don't think you can command us" Before he had quite closed his naughty lips, he found himself as large as life. (The story-teller suddenly snatches Frank and the leaves, and holds them up in the air.) He looked about frightened. Not a fairy boy in sight! He ran as fast as he could to the edge of Fairyland. There was the cloud that had brought him safely across. He 198 MANUAL OF STORIES stepped upon it. He was too heavy, and went down, down. (Drop Frank slowly.) Now he is going through a damp fog that chills to the bone; then into glaring light, but always down and down, swiftly whirling round and round. Poor Frank ! He wondered if he would be crushed very much when he hit the ground. Soon he heard Ruth calling : "Frank ! Frank ! where are you ?" He was back again in the woods above the beach (Lay Frank down again among the leaves, and bring up Ruth.) and Ruth was beside him. When she had heard his story, and looked into his eyes, she saw that he was both happy and frightened. "I did see the fairies, Ruth," said Frank, "but I hol- lered at the Fairy Queen, and I think she sent me out of Fairyland. I guess the reason you are wiser than I is because you believe things so hard it makes them come true," Frank finished shyly. "And the reason why you seldom see things is because you doubt so strongly, they won't come true." They both laughed contentedly, and began clearing a space on the sand for cave building. XX MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY To Mary Lowe the bottle characters are not a mere play, they are a life. She has given to them the same painstaking experiment that Froebel and Montessori did to the Kindergarten and the House of Childhood. She took four boys to bring up, and their home education was with the bottle people. For over a dozen years she has worked with groups of children, large and small, with her plan. In one instance at least, long enough so that the whole village of children was making bottle dolls. A number of these children had accumulated families of three hundred of them, and several years after Mrs. Lowe had gone away they were retelling her stories and telling their own. Out of this experience a number of convictions came to Mrs. Lowe. THE IMPORTANCE OF THE EDUCATION OF THE HEART One of these convictions was that a child lives in a world of sentiment as well as of sense. She finds that the sentiments rule the senses. She is in unconscious harmony with G. Stanley Hall and other modern teachers who tell us that the most important part of education is the educa- tion of the heart and with that ancient philosopher of the Hebrews who said that "Out of the heart are the issues of life." She knows that the child will have to act in a workaday world, but she believes that his spirit both now 199 200 MANUAL OF STORIES and always may live in a world of fancy, not of disordered fancy but of poetic insight. She sides with Froebel rather than with Montessori in giving a distinct and large place to imagination, and she goes further than Froebel, because she shows how imagination may be cultivated until the twelfth or fourteenth year. "Make-believe," said Mary Lowe to me once, ' 'comes nearer to experience than any other condition of mind. Every child formulates in his imagination acts that he would never himself perform. But if he imagines them he is more likely to be willing to perform them. If we can devise a plan that will direct the imagination in right channels, we are not only giving the child imitation-experiences of what is good but we are inclining him to do what is good. In other words, the imag- ination should be as finely drilled as the reason." THE NATURALNESS OF MORAL REFLEC- TION TO CHILDREN Another thing that Mrs. Lowe has noticed is that children are serious-minded people. We adults separate Sunday from the other days of the week, we distinguish between the sacred and the secular, we live hours when we are consciously good or bad and hours when we are uncon- scious of moral attitudes. Mrs. Lowe finds that children do not make these distinctions, which are wholly arbitrary. To us moral reflection is unnatural when we play, but to the child it is common. Indeed since he is playing most of the time he would not have much chance for such reflection otherwise. So for children to engage in play in which they find themselves judging moral issues is not unusual, but general. If you have listened to young children playing together you must have noted how often they judge them- selves or each other vocally. And this is the best way for them to learn to judge, for it is the active way. It would not be strange if a child would be advanced further in moral dis- MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 201 criminations and demeanor by playing with bottle dolls than by sitting and listening to or watching the most expert Sunday school teacher. CHILDHOOD'S NEED OF A MIMIC WORLD TO PRACTICE IN Mrs. Lowe's great contribution is that she has fur- nished to children during their most imaginative and dra- matic years a mimic world filled with people, in which they can become partners in realistic experiences that involve the principal problems of life. These experiences she enables them to have, as they must have them later, in the form of questions rather than of answers, and she depends upon that inner voice which was given the child at the start to tell for himself what those answers are. This is the essential contribution that Mrs. Lowe has made to education. The fact that her own characters are made of bottles rather than of bisque is a non-essential one. Bottles are common and cheap and it is an intellectual stimulus that the child should be forced to clothe them with life and with individual characteristics. But the material is a matter of personal choice. The choice of characters which she has made is non-essential. It was a happy thought that she should have chosen the characters of the best-known children's classics, associated already with jingles which just suggest personalities, but other charac- ters may be substituted or added, as she herself has done, so long as the children accept them and understand them. Her stories are the expression of her philosophy, but other stories could contain and do contain a good philosophy, and as the most valuable result in her experience has been that children compose stories which express their own philoso- phy, so she would be pleased if adult story-tellers should make up stories which even better express their philosophy or hers. Mrs. Lowe's stories are to be judged, as we judge 202 MANUAL OF STORIES Froebel's verses, not by literary standards but by one criterion only, whether they convey adequately to children what she has to say. It seems to the writer that they do. During the composition of this volume these stories, were used by an expert story-teller for six months in a circuit of a dozen towns, to which she returned at frequent and regular intervals, and her testimony was of growing en- thusiasm to the effect that no stories were equal to these simple ones of Mrs. Lowe's for use with her system. This story-teller herself has an unusual repertoire of child's stories and she used them and still uses some of them, but the stories of Mrs. Lowe proved after all to be fundamental and essential. Mrs. Lowe does not claim, any more than Froebel did, that her rhymes are poetry, but as she says, "Children get an idea through jingling verses quicker than any other way," and she just carries the Mother Goose method a little further. It seemed needful first to give the reader, for the sake of clear apprehension, the scheme as it is presented to children. Now for the philosophy which underlies the plan. The reader may use it or not as he chooses, but here it is and it is a good philosophy, and if it is absorbed in the story-teller's mind and heart it will, whether it is ever put into words or not to children, give a richer meaning to every use of the bottle characters. THE MEANING OF THIS MIMIC WORLD Mrs. Lowe's cosmogony, if we may use such a pre- tentious word, is this. The Enchanted Land represents the imagination of a child. This Land is entirely sur- rounded by the Land of Make-believe, because the En- chanted Land is a condition into which nobody can enter who cannot "believe." Outside this lies the everyday world, where we spend most of our time. In a special corner of the Land of Make-believe is the Lonesome Land, or the MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 203 Land of Negation, as Mrs. Lowe sometimes has to call it, the land of wrong fancy and evil desire. It is in the Land of Make-believe because, as Mrs. Lowe says, "A real unbeliever makes believe more than anybody else." This is the land where the witches and other evils come from. Over all these lands is the Kingdom of Love, where the Invisible King watches and the Spirit of Love, represented by the Fairy Godmother, rules. In playing, the table repre- sents the Enchanted Land and the upper platform is a part of the Kingdom of Love. Just about the table is the Land of Make-believe through which the children pass to the Enchanted Land. From outside this boundary (perhaps from another table) come the witches, from the Lonesome Land, invading the Enchanted Land in that corner where they make their brew. The idea may be represented by chart (p. 204). The smaller table where the dolls are assembled before they are brought into action has no especial meaning in the allegory. The children simply think of it as "The place where the doll people go to sleep." Some story-tellers dispense with this spare table altogether and always assem- ble all the characters in their places in the Enchanted Land. You remember the description of the Enchanted Land (in Chapter XIX) before the witches entered. That Land represented the imagination of a child who does not yet know right from wrong. When the fire started that even- tually brought forth the witches (Mrs. Lowe does not go further into the question of the origin of evil) the innocent children fled. In their place came the more matured chil- dren of the Invisible King. These know the nature of the brew. What happened to Adam and Eve in the second chapter of Genesis happens to each individual of the race. Note especially that the children in the Enchanted Land have intelligent imagination. In the Land of Make-believe people may believe anything, in the Lonesome Land they believe in nothing. To believe in everything is bad, but to believe in nothing is fatal. In the Enchanted Land, which 204 MANUAL OF STORIES ffi w I i w <1 s PH O Q w w 1 > |S Q s ^ n ^ " ^ < O m M S; W w H H H M H W H EH W W 1 S d p e 8 >H < ti W > W MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 205 is Life, over which Love broods, we may use imagination intelligently to choose the good and turn from the evil. The great value of Mrs. Lowe's philosophy as it is used with children is right here in helping them learn the first lessons of life's great moral duel. Somehow much of our moral and religious teaching of young children has no blood and iron in it. It is sentimental rather than intelli- gent. It makes excuses for children when they would not make excuses for themselves, for they are more keen about right and wrong than we know. In every story Mrs. Lowe has this underlying thought: a child may do some careless or foolish things, but he cannot do wrong unless he has tasted of the brew, and he never tastes of the brew unless he chooses to. So Mrs. Lowe from the start would build a life on the old majestic doctrine of the freedom of the will. Here is will training of the finest value. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SOME OF THE CHARACTERS Several of the characters have import beyond the others. Frank and Ruth are Everyboy and Everygirl, and through their personalities the children project their own into the Enchanted Country. (Later some children prefer to identify themselves with other characters whom they learn to visualize even more strongly.) Frank and Ruth are naturally usually spectators rather than actors, because like the Greek Chorus they represent the attitude of the onlookers, and the story-teller uses them skilfully to say what he believes his real children are thinking. In their viewpoint Frank and Ruth represent what is often known as the masculine and the feminine attitude. Frank is the natural doubter and Ruth has the intuitive feeling for truths that are beyond human experience. At the close of one of Mrs. Lowe's stories Frank says to Ruth: "The reason why you are so wise is because you believe in things so 206 MANUAL OF STORIES hard that you make them come true," and Ruth replies: "And the reason why you so seldom see things is because you doubt so strongly, that they won't come true." These two attitudes are to be maintained in all their dialogues. The slow acceptance of Ruth's ideas is perfectly natural and impresses the child who follows the processes of Frank's thoughts. In the end he leaves the doubts to Frank and himself accepts the Ideal. If the Bottle People had been invented by a man, perhaps Frank would occupy a more glorious place in the story. The endeavors of Frank after knowledge might have had a more triumphant conclusion, because they were on the whole so praiseworthy. Indeed when a man tells these stories he may emphasize more strongly the masculine side of virtue. The Fairy Godmother may turn out to show the spirit of father-love as well as mother-love, King Cole may become a very wise and vigorous parent and even the Farmer may be vitalized to become quite a respectable and thoughtful adult companion to the children. All this goes to show that we each have our own world, and that what- ever it is like we may reproduce it with the Mother Goose kingdom. Not much is said about the Invisible King. Beautifully Mrs. Lowe tells us that because he has the hearts of all children in his heart he of his own motion made the Enchanted Land in which each child may live. The Fairy Godmother or Fairy Queen has already been imagined by children always as being all that we call Providence, and we cannot better make the latter term vital. Buttercup is the better nature of the child that always speaks out when he is tempted to drink the brew. "It is part of ourselves, the something that makes for righteous- ness." Appropriately she lives close to the Fairy Queen. "She is not th'e child's Ego, but his character," his truest character. Ruth feels ; but Buttercup guides. If the upper platform is the Kingdom of Love, then MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 207 the lower one where King Cole reigns is the Kingdom of Law. The children who will not be ruled by love must be ruled by law. The characters that are suggested and others that may be invented represent the commonest types of child charac- ter. The few adults give some chance for showing how the child comes into contact with the adult world. Literally, it must be confessed, each character is not so much a complete human personality as a type or ten- dency. Little Johnny Green, when under the influence of the brew, throws the cat into the well and he simply echoes that tendency to cruelty which a child recognizes as one of his own tendencies. Wee Willie Winkie wants to sit up after bedtime and thus represents the frequent wish in the child's own mind. It would take all the children of the doll characters to make one complete, well-rounded individ- ual. The child recognizes this and selects each doll for a special purpose somewhat as he selects a note upon the piano, combining it with others into a tune. Among all these Lena occupies a unique place. Lena represents the situation in which a child most often finds himself. She never drinks of the brew, but she often listens to what Puck whispers (and we all know what Puck is like) and so with perfectly good intention and complete fearlessness she often does what is unfortunate. She repre- sents the careless and inexperienced youngster who is con- stantly being surprised by his own actions and their conse- quences, and whose confession might well be that of the notorious Boss Tweed, "I tried to be good, but I had hard luck." Mary Lowe once quoted Socrates to me, who said, "No young man can be a philosopher." And she added : "You can teach philosophy when you are young, but whether you are a philosopher only the test of experience can prove." Lena is, like other young people, learning through experi- ence a philosophy of life. 208 MANUAL OF STORIES "Lena is one of the characters who is never allowed to drink of the brew. When she does wrong the children all say, 'Oh, poor Lena! She doesn't mean to be bad/ No child really means to be bad, and only needs correction that it may learn to do good. There is nothing to blame a child or grown-up for but doing the wrong thing, in spite of Buttercup." Lena is evidently Mary Lowe's favorite. Indeed some- where she has confessed that she often sees her own self reflected in this eager, restless child. "Lena," she writes, "is the character that I was going to base the book on. The Lovely Lady goes with her. Because Lena was born with a lack, and the only hope for her is that she must be brought to realize herself and grow her own principles, the work of such persons as the Lovely Lady must be done with children like her." When Mary Lowe says that Lena was born with a lack, she does not mean that she was mentally lacking, or that, as Puck so often says, she is really "stupid Dutch Lena." She is, like all young children, not immoral, just unmoral, and the only reason Puck thinks her stupid is because she is inexperienced. From the adult standpoint little children often appear stupid ; they do need wisdom, but it can come only with years and adult guidance. Puck is the spirit of irresponsibility. He does not really love Lena, though he claims to. How can he, since he has never been willing to drink of the King's Potion ? He has not the evil character of the witches, for he never tastes their brew, but his mischief leads other people to drink it, and so he hardly shines in any fairer light than they. "THE BREW" The witches are the avenue through which the child is led to do wrong. They are the voice of temptation. Their song is a chant in minor chords. Like the minor chords that are heard in the storm wind this harmony kis MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 209 a charm of its own. The words which the witches use are good words, but they misrepresent and they are falsely used. When children learn about the brew in the stories and the harm of it, they always suggest: "Take the witches out." And when they insistently remain the children de- mand that none of the characters shall drink of it. Mary Lowe says that she is sure that if she ever allowed Frank, the Everyboy, to drink of the brew she "would lose the respect of many of her young friends." But, as in life, the brew is there and the witches are there, and "how," asks Mary Lowe; "in any other way could the children get anything more near to a real experience of life?" The Lonesome Land is lonesome not only on account of the lonely misery with which the child is familiar after he has done wrong, but for a deeper reason. It is the opposite of faith rather than of goodness. The lesson of life, of the Enchanted Land, is that of teachableness. Those in the Lonesome Land, who believe nothing, are the un- teachable. " They wrought in faith/ and not They wrought in doubt/ Is the proud epitaph inscribed above Our glorious Dead who in their grandeur lie, Crowned with the garland of Eternity. Because they did believe, and conquered Doubt, They lived great lives and did their deathless deeds." So Mrs. Lowe thinks, and she would build a child's faith, beyond creeds, in the basis of experiment and trust in the practicability and joy of right living. The brew is handled skilfully. The child may drink of it, but it is something separate from the child. This is important, for it helps the child to be less critical of others and to feel less resentment at human ill-doing, and it gives him hope to know that the brew is not his real self. 210 MANUAL OF STORIES THE POTION AND THE LOVELY LADY The King's Potion too is well stated. Buttercup is incorruptible, she always guides aright, but after the child has partaken of the brew she is helpless. Only Love can devise a remedy, and she finds it from the King alone. "There is nothing to fear. Our King is greater than even black brew." This thought needs no enlargement. The Potion completes the lesson of hope. One more point. The Lovely Lady is the mother or the story-teller. She comes into the Enchanted Land with Ruth and Frank, and like them she is mostly an on-looker, though they may ask her 'to intervene with her mother love when some of the bottle people need her. But note. She is not there to interfere with Frank and Ruth. She watches the way life moves in the Land, and is a learner as well as her children. She helpes as a true learner can help, not as a dictator. We cannot dictate character to our chil- dren. They are made by their own choices. They may not become just what she wants them to be, but if they are guided aright they will become what their own best tenden- cies and qualities make them. The attitude of the true mother is that of a patient listener in the kingdom of life. THE INFLUENCE OF THE PLAN IN WILL- TRAINING As to whether Mary Lowe's stories have really ever done children good we get the best evidence in Chapter XXV, where some actual instances are given as to what they mean to the imagination, the constructive instinct and the moral motive of some of the children with whom she has lived. MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY 211 To-day we are pretty well agreed that the secret of good living is in the heart and the will, that what the heart loves the will will perform, and that the way to help the will perform is to give it actual exercise in willing. The finest road to right action is to give a child right actions to perform. But clear back where the child learns to know what the right is and to love it, much may be done. The trouble with most of our moral education, even moral education through stories, is that the child is perfectly passive and accepts what we tell him. Mary Lowe has met this difficulty and conquered it. In her system the children are perpetually and enthusiastically active. Their activity is not merely in making and moving the dolls a merely muscular activity, though that is something. But there is activity of will. Each child's imagination actively identifies himself with the hero of the story, much more than is possible in a story that is simply told. Here is the actual scene before him, here is the actual situation in the making, here is he down in the scene acting, suffering, being tempted, conquering or failing, and most of all deciding. The deci- sions of the character are his decisions. The judgment that is passed upon those acts is one that he passes himself. Mrs. Lowe says : "It has always been a notion of mine to allow the child to form its own idea whether a given act is wrong or not. If one of my boys asks me, 'Is that wrong?' to do as he did, my answer would be, 'Well, is it wrong you know.' I would tell stories concerning the nature of the act and compel them to decide for themselves. You see that it is natural that the truth should seem clearer to the mind that works it out for itself." It is not necessary in this kind of story-telling to Uirow in many moral observations. Children are as quick as older persons to grasp the allegory, and if it doesn't make itself clear as a story it isn't much of an allegory. XXI SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES WHEN RUTH AND FRANK VISITED THE ENCHANTED LAND NOTE: The characters in this story in the order of their ap- pearance are as follows: Ruth Frank Bo-Peep Johnny Green Boy Blue Farmer's Wife Witches Buttercup Fairy Godmother It is suggested that all the characters upon the two platforms be arranged in place before beginning the story, and that the chil- dren be scattered about the meadow. The Farmer's Wife should be at the house. When Frank and Ruth enter, they stop and look up at the Kingdoms and then are met by Bo-Peep and Johnny Green. The Witches are already stationed by the Brew. Buttercup comes clown at the moment indicated and returns to confer with the Fairy Queen. She brings down the Potion in a beautiful cup or vase. The mixing of the Potion is a very interesting ceremony to the children and they love to repeat the verse that is used at the time until they have memorized it. "Oh, Ruth! is this the Enchanted Land?" "I am sure it is, Frank. Up there is the Fairy God- mother. Below her is Old King Cole, and the Queen of Hearts, and Prince Charming. And oh ! look at the dear Tiny Tots, and all the people coming out of the house! 212 SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 213 I wonder if we know any of these other persons!" ex- claimed Ruth excitedly. "Here is Little Bo-Peep coming this way, I think," answered Frank. Ruth waited for Bo-Peep and Johnny Green to come near her. Frank heard Boy Blue call from a distance: "Bo-Peep! Bo-Peep! Mother wants you to come right away." And Bo-Peep ran home without saying a word to disappointed Ruth. The Farmer's Wife met her at the door. You know the Farmer's Wife? "Three blind mice, They all ran up to the Farmer's Wife, She cut their tails off with a carving knife. You never did see such a time in your life, As those three blind mice." Well, she was the mother of Little Boy Blue and Bo-Peep. "Oh, Mother! Must we work this beautiful day?" asked Bo-Peep. "Tut, tut! my child. Why, out on the green hills where the lambs frisk about among the daisies, and the rab- bits play games all their own, is it not fine to be there?" she asked. "Go get your sheep from the corral and drive them to the hills and keep them there. Little Boy Blue must go and keep the cows on the stubble down back of the big barn. There are a few sheep among them that your father will sell to-morrow." The children laughing gayly went on their way. Com- ing up to Ruth and Frank, who had been getting acquainted with Johnny Green, they called cheerily: "Come with us to the hills and gather daisies, won't you?" "No, no," shouted Johnny. "We will all go around by the brown lane, and see the funny Witches who have 214 MANUAL OF STORIES camped there. We may see some one drink of the black brew it will be fun." Ruth and Frank did not like to go, and they said so. "Then you and Boy Blue come, Bo-Peep; you can return by the lower lane, and get your sheep out in plenty of time." "Well, it won't matter if we are a little late; Mother will not care." So the children hurried to get a glimpse of the wicked Witches. When they had come nearer to the camp, the odor of the brew filled the air and made them anxious to get nearer. Many persons were standing about. A great kettle was steaming over a slow fire, and queer Witches were stirring a very black-looking broth; their grim faces were intent on the children and the mixing of the brew. They mumbled as they worked. Bo-Peep shivered slightly, and stood nearer Johnny. Boy Blue was so young and small that he did not know the danger as the others did. "My, but it does smell nice !" he murmured wistfully. Will no one save the children? Must they drink the evil brew, and be poisoned? Bo-Peep began to notice that the old Witches did not look so horrible as they did at first, and the brew did smell nice it wasn't so very black, either. Just then she heard the Witches sing: "Come, little children, dear little children Drink of the brew. Everyone uses it, No one refuses it, Why should you?" "Could we not take a tinty, weenty bit?" coaxed Boy Blue. Swiftly down the lane came Buttercup. The King had given the children into her charge. Breathlessly she called down to them: SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 215 "Come, dearest, your mother is waiting for you. Beware of the Witches don't drink of the brew. The birds and the flowers, the grass and the wood, All filled with joy for love of the good, Are calling for you." The children thought it was a great pity to be disturbed just when things seemed so happy. Bo-Peep turned to the coming child, and said angrily : "Oh, Buttercup, go, You bother us so, Just for this once, Don't be such a dunce We will take only a drop of the brew, No one will know of our drinking but you." Then the Witches' enticing chant was heard again : "Sweet children, partake of this liquid so rare, Your hearts will be brave, to do and to dare ; Your chains will be broken, your life will be free. Come drink to your mother, your playmate, and Me." The children crept still closer to the brew, and they did not heed the cry of Buttercup who kept pleading: "Dear little ones, come! Think of your homes!" Her words were drowned in the louder chant of the Witches, who sang: "The Brew is like wine Like good, sweet wine, Oh, it is fine ! Come taste it and use it, Please don't refuse it! There's nothing to harm, It works like a charm. Nice little children, drink of the Brew, It makes all your wishes and dreams come true!' 216 MANUAL OF STORIES And the children replied: "Go away, Buttercup, We are sorry for you, But nothing will keep us From drinking the Brew." Crowding close to the kettle, the children each tasted the brew that could bring nothing but evil to their hearts. Frank and Ruth, who had watched them from the hillside, turned away with tears in their eyes, for they understood. At once Johnny looked about for some mischief to do. He spied Mother Hubbard's dog chasing a cat down the lane. 'There's Jack Spratt's little old cat I'll kill it, -you bet." He caught it as it came around the corner. "Do not hurt it," pleaded Buttercup. "Please, Johnny, put it down." He would not listen. The black brew was taking effect. Coming to a well (represented, perhaps, by a small jar without a top), he threw the cat down into the water. The poor kitty cried and cried, until she was almost exhausted, before Jimmy Stout came that way after a while, and nearly lost his life getting it safely out of the water. Off in the distance the children could be heard singing : "Ding-dong bell ! Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Johnny Green. Who took her out? Little Jimmy Stout." Bo-Peep hurried through the valley, and managed to get the sheep out on the hills before her mother noticed how long she had been doing her work. Boy Blue finally got his cows and sheep together, but he felt so cross and fretful that at last he lay down by a big hay-stack, and was soon fast asleep. In the meantime Johnny Green came to the place SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 217 where the daisies grew. There he found Bo-Peep reading a book full of witch stories. "I believe I would rather be bad than good," she told Johnny Green. "I am going to put on a red gown and wear a funny tall cap, and be a witch, too. Then I will coax all the children to drink of the brew until every one of them has tasted of it. And when they are cross, I will Well, maybe I won't kill them what could we do to them?" "Behead them!" answered Johnny promptly. "Then they will go around headless. I was reading that wicked queens always behead their unruly subjects. I guess I'll be a Witch King. Say, Bo-Peep, I threw Jack Spratt's cat in the well." "Oh ! Johnny Green, what will your mother do to you?" "Maybe I won't go back home any more maybe I'll just go away and see things." This was a new thought to Bo-Peep. "Let us both run away!" she said. So Johnny and Bo-Peep climbed over the daisy-covered hills, and left the sheep to stray where they would. When the sun had tucked all the little birds and animals into bed, and was about to snuff out his light, he noticed Johnny and Bo-Peep sitting on a rock, lonely and weary. Their little faces were tear-stained, and their tired eyes turned to him frightened. "Don't go down," they pleaded. "We are so afraid in the dark." But the sun wouldn't stay one minute longer, for he had not taken any of the brew, he would not disobey his King, who had told him to leave this land every evening, and come back every morning. So the dark came and covered the children like a veil. And one by. one the stars came out, and then the moon sailed proudly in sight. They had done no wrong ; they were not afraid they were shining patiently in their places. As Johnny and Bo-Peep looked up at the stars they 218 MANUAL OF STORIES thought of this, and the stain of the black brew seemed to make their little hearts ache. "Let's go home again, Bo-Peep; if my mother whips me hard maybe the tears will help wash away the ache that the brew makes in my heart." "Maybe it would," answered Bo-Peep sorrowfully. So they trudged all the dreary way back again over the daisy- covered hills to their homes. When Bo-Peep had come to her own door, she heard her father say : "Little Bo-Peep Has lost her sheep, And don't know where to find them." And from outside the door Bo-Peep answered with tears in her voice : "Let them alone, For they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them." You may remember how once upon a time Bo-Peep's mother, the Farmer's Wife, cut off the tails of some mice with her carving knife. She was a very decided person. She was frightened because Bo-Peep was gone after dark, and she was afraid that her little girl had been doing some- thing even worse than neglecting her work. "Did you go down the valley and drink of the Witch's brew?" she asked. "Yes, I did." You wouldn't be surprised if I told you that Bo-Peep's mother gave her a shaking, and after a supper of bread and milk, sent her right off to bed. But Bo-Peep's heart was nowhere near so troubled by the shak- ing as it was when she heard her mother downstairs sobbing, "Oh ! where is Little Boy Blue not home yet ; something has happened to my little boy, I know." Bo-Peep crept quietly out of bed, and slipped down SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 219 to the barn to look for him, for she knew it was all her fault that he had drank of the brew that day. And she thought, too, that perhaps she could find him. In a little while she heard the cow bell dingle-dingle in the corn field. And she saw the white sheep her father was going to sell bleating over in the green meadow. She was going to drive them back where they belonged, when her troubled eyes caught the shine of a little horn down beside the haystack. Coming nearer, she found Boy Blue fast asleep. Then she sang merrily : "Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. Is this the way to tend your sheep, Under the haystack fast asleep?" Just then Bo-Peep's mother, the Farmer's Wife, came running up to them. She kissed Boy Blue, and threw her arms about both her children and murmured, "What will the Fairy Godmother say to me for not watching over my little ones ?" That night as they lay down to rest Bo-Peep said sadly, "What can we do to take the ache out of our hearts, Boy Blue?" But neither of them knew. Although they had both tried, still they felt the dark stain there. But Buttercup did not forget the children. She had gone to the Fairy Godmother and mournfully said : "Oh! Fairy Godmother, the wicked old Witches Have given our children a taste of the brew, The cruel dark stain must ever remain, No one can save them, dear mother, but you." The Fairy Godmother looked lovingly at Buttercup, and replied cheerfully: "Oh ! Buttercup, dear, there is nothing to fear, Our King is far greater than even black brew. 220 MANUAL OF STORIES In every dark hour, he gives us the power To wish for a blessing and make it come true." "Call good little Alice to bring out the Chalice." Buttercup flew to do her bidding. Then Alice of Wonderland brought the King's Chalice, and set it before the Fairy Godmother, who had the magic power to mix the King's Potion. As she dropped into the golden vessel the precious liquid, she was heard to say slowly, as she mixed it: "Pour Mercy, and Peace, and Justice herein, We add to the Potion pure heartfelt Devotion, Now put in the mixture much Sorrow for Sin, The Chalice we fill with Love and Good Will. Pour all in the jar you bring, Now dip in a cup and each take a sup, Then close with the Seal of the King." Then the Fairy Godmother carefully gave the Chalice into the hands of Buttercup, and told her quickly to give it to the children, who had drank of the Brew, so that the curse of the Witches might be removed. Buttercup knelt down beside the little bed containing the two sad, sleepless children, and said with a bright smile : "See! Here is the King's Potion. You may drink of it, and your hearts will be white once more, and all the pain and worry will be gone." So they drank of the golden cup, and all the pain was taken out of their hearts. "Oh! Buttercup, please go to Johnny Green's house, and let him drink, too," pleaded Bo-Peep. Don't you think that Johnny Green was glad to drink of the precious Potion? When the good sun looked down on the Enchanted Land the next morning, he saw three very happy children, who were very careful to keep away from the valley of the Witch's Brew. SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 221 THE FOX AND THE FARMER NOTE: Mrs. Lowe shows us in this story how one of the Old Mother Goose rhymes may be made into a prose story, and told with the aid of the bottle people. This is what the moon saw. It all happened in the Enchanted Land. One evening the Farmer called Bo-Peep from the meadow where she had been telling Boy Blue a story. They promptly obeyed his call, and were both soon in bed fast asleep. When the Farmer closed the shutters for the night he thought that the moon had winked at him, but he could not be quite sure. Soon the whole house was silent, and every one slumbered. Puck was standing beside the tent of the Witches, and the four of them seemed to be plotting something. Finally, it was agreed what the sport of the night should be. One of the Witches was to turn herself into a fox, and visit the Farmer's geese and make trouble. (Since we are in the Land of Make-believe, a Witch may look like a fox if she pleases. But a Witch is still a Witch, so the children will see her as she is, but the Farmer will be fooled.) So pretty soon the Witch came to the edge of the town. (She is a fox now.) "The fox jumped up on a clear bright night, The stars were shining all things right. 'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'It's a very fine night For me to go through the town, heigho !' " Now I see the fox creeping, creeping, sneaking, sneak- ing over the stile, across the meadow, making his way to the Farmer's house. "The fox, when he came to yonder stile, He lifted his ears, and he listened a while. 222 MANUAL OF STORIES 'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'It's but a short mile From this to yonder town, heigho !' " Now the Fox- Witch goes to the children's play-house. He would not dare do that if Boy Blue were awake. See, he is looking in the window, and now he tries the door. Ah! The Farmer built his house strong and well. The Witch need not try to get in. I guess the Farmer knows ! Now the Fox- Witch goes back of the house. Here are the geese all cuddled down to sleep on a flat board next to the fence. The drake is roosting like a watchman on the back gate, but he is beginning to sleep, too. "The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, Whom should he see but the farmer's drake; 'I love you so well for your master's sake, And long to be picking your bones, heigho !' " The drake did not want his bones picked, so he woke up and tried to get away. All the other geese woke up and hurried and scurried, too, and the fox after them, especially after the biggest and fattest old gray goose. "The gray goose ran right around the haystack. 'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'You are very fat; You'll do very well to ride on my back, From this unto the town, heigho !" Then oh, the cackling, the fussing and quacking! The gray goose flew over the fence, and the fox leaped over after her. The gray goose ran around a bush, and the fox ran around the bush, too. The gray goose was getting out of breath, but the fox was just as fresh as ever. The Farmer's Wife, that staunch, brave woman, who could calmly cut off the tails of three blind mice if neces- sary, would never allow a mere fox such liberties. Boy Blue half woke up, and wondered in a sleepy way if it was Thanksgiving-time, and all of the geese and chickens were going to lose their heads. He wasn't afraid, for there SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 223 were Mother and Father to look after them. Little Bo-Peep was so very tired that she did not wake up at all, and knew nothing about it until morning. "The farmer's wife she jumped out of bed, And out of the window she popped her head. 'Oh, husband! Oh, husband! The geese are all dead, For the fox has been through the town, heigho!'" Then the Farmer quickly arose, and loaded the little pistol that was always tucked over the door, and went quietly out. Boy Blue drowsily heard the door crack, and was just about to drop into a deep slumber when Bang! "The farmer loaded his pistol with lead, And shot the old rogue of a fox in the head. 'Ah, ha!' said the farmer. T think you're quite dead, And on more you'll trouble the town, heigho!'" So the Farmer came back to the house and went to bed again. But by this time Boy Blue was wide awake, and he tumbled into his clothes, and hurried down to ask his father what was the matter. The Farmer woke up long enough to tell him how he had killed the old red fox, just in front of the house. He did not know that the fox was the wicked old Witch, for she could make people see things just as she wanted them to. So back went the Farmer and his boy to sleep. The next morning when the Farmer opened the shut- ters of his house before day-break, he fancied that the moon winked at him again. She may have done so, for just as soon as all was quiet the Witch got up on her feet and ran straight back to her tent. When the Farmer came out in the morning to pick up the fox's body, and nail the skin to his barn door, there was no fox there. It seemed to the old Witch that it was not a very good joke after all for the Farmer to come put and frighten her half to death when she was only trying to have a little fun, and just to think that not one of the geese was hurt ! 224 MANUAL OF STORIES SOME OTHER STORIES As has been suggested, not only may all stories be told with bottle dolls, but nearly all can be told with refer- ence to Mrs. Lowe's allegory. In Emilie Poulsson's collec- tion there is a charming story by Raymond M. Alden, entitled "How the Chimes Rang." It tells of a magic country in which the church chimes would ring only when an unselfish deed had been done. It pictures the people meeting in church, and the rich, the wise and the proud bringing their gifts, to all of which the chimes were silent, because theirs were the gifts of self-seeking. But a little poor boy who had been kind to his brother and to a lost dog sets the chimes ringing when he enters the church. To tell this story, "the church" and congregation are easily arranged, and it remains only to suggest that the selfish people had drunk of the "brew" and to suit the action to the word to make the story wonderfully effective. Sarah Cory Rippey has written a unique little story book entitled "The Goody-Naughty Book," published by Rand, McNally & Company, Chicago. The "good side" of the book contains eight simple stories which would be excellent to tell to young children, to give the adventures of bottle characters who have never forgotten to listen to the whispers of Buttercup, while the "naughty side" contains as many simple and natural stories which illustrate the mischances of little folks who have so far forgot themselves as to drink the Brew. A number of story-tellers have become very enthusiastic about the possibility of telling some of the Bible stories with the character dolls. This graphic use of material figures would be suitable, for obvious reasons, chiefly with the Old Testament stories. Perhaps the best of the Bible stories for bottle character presentation is the favorite story of David. The young shepherd is naturally placed in the meadow of the Enchanted Land, and the home at- SOME BOTTLE-DOLL STORIES 225 mosphere is given by a scene at the house. The child's own favorite would be the hero, Boy Blue, who himself was a shepherd, or Prince Charming or Frank. We have the Giant Goliath ready to hand. The king is our Old King Cole, who is kind until he drinks of the brew, when his madness overcomes him. The story of Joseph, the finest tale in all literature, may be told by these means, though it may be hard to conjure up enough wicked brothers without manufacturing some new characters for the purpose. But a special set of bottle people, to play with only on Sunday, embodying the leading types of character in the Old Testa- ment, would not be a bad acquisition to any household. Perhaps the most practical way to show how other stories may be told with the bottle people is by turning to the stories which children have actually told, given in Chap- ter XXV; the programs in Appendix IX, also some of the other familiar and favorite children's stories, which may easily be told with the bottle people without special direc- tions. XXII HOW TO MAKE THE BOTTLE PEOPLE It is now time to tell how bottle dolls are made. The only materials required are small-sized empty bottles (round bottles should be used if possible, as these stand better), white lawn, a little cotton batting for filling, scraps of paper and cloth for garments, and some thread, glue, pen and ink. Set a bottle before you ; then take a square piece of cloth large enough to make the head and shoulders the size the bottle suggests. To make the head, pack the cotton firmly in the center of the cloth, and fold the cloth over and tie it in the shape of a ball. Make the heads of different shapes and sizes. Place cotton inside a small piece of pink outing flannel to form the chin and the lower part of the face. Over this lay a three-cornered piece of pink lawn to give a flesh color effect. Bias the edge well under the chin. Tie the long ends behind the head, and pull the remaining end of the cloth over the top of the head and sew tightly. Now tie the bias edge of the cloth firmly under the chin, leaving no wrinkles. Use paper to shape the shoulders and bust. Then tie this head-and-shoulder piece on the neck of the bottle. Paste over all but the head a strong piece of paper. Now clothe the doll in paper or cloth, according to notion. Arms may be empty if something is placed about the shoulders to give the suggestion that arms are there. With a pen sketch eyes, nose and mouth, trying to make different fea- tures for different characters. The following colors are appropriate for characters : 226 How TO MAKE THE BOTTLE PEOPLE 227 Fairy Godmother and her Tiny Tots, Mary Contrary, Wee Willie Winkie, Mrs. Horner and Jack o' Hearts, all in white. King, purple and black. Queen, red and gilt. Guards, black and gilt. King's Messenger and Jack Horner, gray. Puck, and Little Miss Muffet, pink. Alice of Wonderland, blue. Buttercup, yellow. Ruth, light blue. Lovely Lady, white lawn, with small pink figure. Policeman, dark blue or black. Mother Hubbard, blue, with a light calico apron. Polly Flinders, dark blue dress, with long white cape. Farmer, Tommy Snooks and Little Boy Blue, dark blue overalls and light shirts. Little Bo-Peep, black and white check. Farmer's Wife, brown and green. Lena, and Red Riding Hood, red and white. Frank, Jack the Giant Killer, Tom Piper, and Johnny Green, brown. Sister Marie, black and white. Bessie Brooks, red check dress, with white apron. Witches, green and red. XXIII HOW TO MAKE THE SCENERY AND ARRANGE THE ACCESSORIES Mrs. Lowe has made bottle-doll play even more fas- cinating by planning for accessories and scenery. Mrs. Lowe's boats were made of tiny boxes, also her sleighs, wagons and trains of cars. She said it did not detract from their value when wagons that were used to bring a load of merrymakers to grandma's were turned upside down to serve as their table to eat from. It will add much to the interest of the play if simple backgrounds are built up out of common nursery material, such as table covers laid over blocks and boxes for undulating plains, using boxes to represent houses and furniture, twigs for shrubs and trees, and having carts, cars and doll furniture take their silent part in building a scenic effect. The house, which is essential to bottle scenery, may be made of a shoe box, somewhat decorated with cut-out win- dows and doors or of a toy house in the child's own collec- tion. When the compiler of this book was trying out the plan with some expert story-tellers a very elaborate doll house was sent to them for this purpose. The story-tellers already had a very simple contrivance which Mrs. Lowe herself had fashioned out of pasteboard. When the chil- dren were asked, as they were in several towns, which house they preferred they always asked for Mrs. Lowe's. They seemed to want to exercise their imaginations on something that was not too complete and ready-made. A novel book by E. Nesbit, published by George H. 228 How TO MAKE THE SCENERY 229 Doran^ Company, New York, entitled "Wings and the Child," tells how to make an elaborate background which would be most attractive for bottle doll play out of such objects as nursery blocks, call bells, books, sand, and various bright-colored junk such as is found in every child's toy box and every attic. The pot for the witches' brew should be a very homely utensil. A small tin cup painted black inside is excellent, because even clear water will look black inside it. The Chalice should be a beautiful vessel. A bright copper match safe or a small silver vase will do. A river may be indicated by a bank made of paste- board boxes, laid zigzag, over a space in the center. A well may be made by placing square boxes as curbing. When figures must go into the river they are taken over the bank. If the object is to be unseen in the well, make the curbing hig"h. In order to fit the character dolls to every sort of story, let us give some miscellaneous directions. Do not keep too many animals or articles on the table. Have a place provided to keep them. Use as needed. Use twigs for trees, and place them in spools, wrapped in green. They may stand where you want them. A collection of toy-animals should be called for from the children, who will take more interest if they are a part of the little world. The toys must fit the dolls in size. Make it a point to have everything that can be procured to fit any story. If a fire is needed where it can be seen, use red and gilt paper. If a fence is spoken of, make a fence of toothpicks. If a figure needs disguising for a time, cut a half circle of cloth, cut the neck out of the center of the straight side and pin on the figure; then twist a bit of tissue paper about the head to form hat and bonnet. If a babe is needed to complete a family, take one from the Fairy Godmother. If a ragged child is called 230 MANUAL OF STORIES for, do the same; make two smaller circles for cloaks, and have them ragged, and fasten at neck and waist line. When soldiers are needed, put uniforms, cut poncho style, over the shoulders of a lot of the male characters. When an angel is needed, use Alice of Wonderland. If more than one, use Buttercup, Puck or the Fairy God- mother. When a "store" is needed, pin a straight cloth above the house and print the name on it. If store and house both, then have one in stock, and be up to date. When a story tells of the inside of a house, place toothpicks to form plan of the house, with one or more rooms. If a figure must go upstairs, lift it quickly and place in the next room. This seems realistic. If school or church are in a story, place the people in rows, as in "meeting," and have the actors quite visible to the audience. Omit no detail that it is possible to put into the action of the story. Make houses to represent a certain neighborhood, then name the dolls for people living there. Tell of some inci- dent that has happened there. XXIV RULES FOR MOVING THE BOTTLE PEOPLE Learn the dolls by name. When choosing a character for a new story tell the name of the doll, and speak of the change something like this : "In the story I will tell you, Jack the Giant Killer will take the character of Tommy." They already love Jack and are interested in his success. When introducing a character, place it in the middle of the space, holding by thumb and finger at its back, and have it face the audience whenever possible. Do not place a thumb over its face when holding it. Some do. Do not read a story and use the dolls at the same time. Make dolls move in the center space whenever pos- sible. Anything may be moved on the table to another position. When hats are adjustable on dolls, remove them some- times. When, in being moved through space, a doll knocks another out of place, have it excuse itself. When a figure is to lift or hold any article, hold the object so that it seems to be held by the doll. When any- thing is thrown, this must be done the same way. When the Giant steals one of the Tiny Tots, let him slip up and take her under his arm when Lena is not looking. This is an exciting moment for the children. They love action when nothing is being said. You may use a doll for the liveliest action in a given 231 232 MANUAL OF STORIES story, and then suddenly say, "So he left them all, and never returned." And just lift the little figure that was a moment ago full of life, and set it over on a shelf. No one finds any inconsistency in the action, because the doll has simply left the Enchanted Land and gone back to the everyday world. When a good description is given in a story, do not leave any of it out because the doll cannot be made to act it. Just make a gesture with your own hand and go on. Never forget that the story is of more importance than the doll. If you wish to tell a story in which there is practically no action, or to recite a poem, use two solid boxes, one flat, for platform, and one high, for the back of it; these will form a mimic stage. Then place three or more figures on it, as if sitting in a half circle. Allow each one of these in turn to recite one of the little poems, taking care that each "child" shall tell something suitable for her size and sort. This will prove interesting, and there is no story that may not be told thus, if it is not possible to tell it with the bottle dolls in action. Sometimes Mrs. Lowe lets little people just talk to each other, and say the things the children are anxious to know. Let Little Boy Blue get lost, and tell how he feels, and how his mother worries over him, and the sadness of Little Bo-Peep and then let them find him. You begin to see the vividness of this kind of play. What is taking place mentally is very interesting. The child is in a society of many imaginary companions to whom he lends real attributes and powers. Since these characters are constant, but their adventures vary, he can and does take these mimic friends with him day after day into every story and game he wishes to play. XXV WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN When the writer first learned, quite by accident, of this unique system of story-telling through play, it was through a friend who came to the town where Mrs. Lowe had lived, three years after she herself had removed, and found the children to whom Mrs. Lowe had explained the bottle characters, after three years' absence, retelling them and telling some of their own. This was gratifying to Mrs. Lowe, for she had said, "You see, I want the children to create a little world of their own. When you have made the plan their own, they will have a real basis to their system. You do not teach the children ; they catch the idea from you how to teach them- selves. They will tell little stories, and begin to put out their own ideas, and make characters to fit if they are encouraged. All the teacher has to do is to fill the child with faith in itself." Mrs. Lowe favors having the dolls made by the children. They should create their world and inhabit it. The characters are not to be mere playthings, but an incentive to actual labor. They will not work half so hard if they have all they want at the beginning. HOW TO MAKE THE CHILDREN ORIGI- NATIVE While an adult tells the story she should be mindful to ask her little crowd as many questions as they ask her. The story-telling should always become a dialogue. To 233 234 MANUAL OF STORIES encourage this even further, Mrs. Lowe says, "Whenever a child asks me a question I find it always best to let another child answer if possible, or to let the questioner figure out some sort of answer to his own question, while I suggest as little as possible/' Mrs. Lowe has had many interesting experiences in getting the children themselves to take part in this kind of play. She finds only three rules necessary: 1. When a character has partaken of the brew, it must afterward have a chance to partake of the King's Potion. 2. The child must be allowed to use the most active personages the Fairy Godmother, the Buttercup, the Witch, and Puck at any time in the story, but must never change their characters. 3. The older Playfellow may best help the child to invent by selecting the characters, but not over five at first, and beginning the story. In order that the mind of the child shall have something to act with, small boxes or mis- cellaneous chips may be laid upon the table to assist the imagination. When encouraging a child to tell stories who has no special story in mind to tell it is well to put a number of small articles on the tables with but a few characters. He can manage to find uses for the things easier than for the folks, and the former will suggest activities to him for the latter. Below is a story given word for word as it was told recently to Mrs. Lowe by a child hardly nine years old. A STORY TOLD BY A CHILD OF NINE "I placed three empty boxes on the table beside Mother Hubbard, Father Time, Wee Willie Winkie and Boy Blue. I started the story: WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN 235 "One day Wee Willie and Boy Blue went to visit their grandma" Maggie took up the theme : " in the country. Willie is a very little boy, so he is in bed yet. (This white box will be the bed.) Now Grandma says to Boy Blue, 'Call Wee Willie, and go wash your hands and face, for breakfast is ready.' (I will use this brown box for a table.) 'Come on, Wee Willie, you lazy boy. Grandma won't care if you eat with your night- gown on, for she is in a hurry to attend to the milk/ 'Stand around this table. Here is Ruth she is me now she is knocking at the door,' she is a lady, you know. ' 'Come in,' says Grandma. 'You are quite early this morning, dear, how is your mamma?' ' 'She is very well, but she is having quite a time with the baby, he is cutting his teeth now, and is dreadful cross.' " That is too bad have a cooky, Miss Ruth (Play this was a cooky) that the baby has the measles, and the whooping cough, and is all broke out with the hives, she can't make any pies to-day.' Now Boy Blue has eaten up all of the cookies, and Wee Willie has got milk all over his nightgown, but Grandma does not care for that, for she knows that the children haven't had a chance to drink any brew this morning, and you know that a child has got to drink brew before he can be bad on purpose. "So now they all go out to play. First they play 'Puss in the Corner.' Wee Willie will stand here, Boy Blue will stand in this corner, and these two boxes will be two more children. Now Ruth will be Pussy Ruth is me. Tussy Wants a Corner/ (This is played until all change corners.) "Now they go to the barn and swing. This spool will do for the barn. Now let Wee Willie swing first, he is the littlest. ( She fancies the swing, and they are all swayed back and forth for a while.) " 'Oh, there is the horse all hitched up, we will go riding/ That's what Boy Blue says. But Ruth says, 'Won't your Grandpa be mad?' But anyway they all climbed in 236 MANUAL OF STORIES this big box play it was a new buggy and then they go down this street and this one and then on into the world of Make-believe, and on and on but we do not see any Ogres or Goblins, but we hurry back, and the horse goes faster and faster until he gets all tired out, and then we all go home. They put the horse in the barn play this stick was a horse and we give him corn. Now they hear Grandpa calling awful cross, for he has found out they had the horse out, so now they Oh, Mrs. Lowe, I forgot the brew." "No matter, just finish anyway." "Well, they go to the house, and Grandpa is angry and so is Grandma. 'Ruth, you go straight home,' she says, 'and these children must play on the back porch the rest of the day. That's all, for I can't give Ruth any potion, because she didn't take any brew.' Then one of the boys, one with freckles, snorted, 'Well you had better give her a sip of the potion anyway, for she must have sneaked a little of the brew somewhere, for she knows she did wrong, if she's got any sense.' ") In actual use the told story will differ from these written ones chiefly in this, that when a story is told there is much more dialogue, not only between the characters but between the story-teller and the children. The story- teller should accept just as many suggestions from the children as possible regarding word and action, so long as they do not alter the trend of her story. We certainly can do much for a child's development if we help him become a creative story-teller. The char- acter dolls give a child a good chance to bring in other objects so that it seems to become easier for him to form a plot of a story, and the telling will not only discipline the child himself, but will give the listener a glimpse of the child's tendencies that might otherwise remain a mys- tery. WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN 237 A STORY TOLD BY A SEVEN YEAR OLD There is a simple little story told by Genevieve, seven years old. It brings out a beautiful lesson of consideration and helpfulness with a slight sense of humor. Characters : Farmer's Wife. Boy Blue. Tiny Tots. Bo- Peep. Ruth. Articles used: Stove, a square black box. Table, a pasteboard box, with sides and ends cut out. Couch, side of a long box cut out, and ends slanted, resting upon an inverted lid. Cupboard, a box with pasteboard shelves pressed tightly into this. Cradle, small box, with rockers cut in half circles and placed in a slit at each end of the bottom. Stand, small box. "Dear me!" says the Farmer's Wife. "I have such a dreadful headache I must go and lie down a while." So she will lie on this couch. Bo-Peep must get dinner now, for her mamma is ill. "Will you have some tea, Mamma?" said Bo-Peep. No, Boy Blue says that, for little boys always worry when their mamma is sick. "Yes, I will take some tea, I think." So Bo-Peep put this dish on the stove (play it was a tea-pot) and the tea was soon done. Then she took it to her mamma, and placed it on the stand beside her. Now 238 MANUAL OF STORIES Bo-Peep goes and puts the baby to sleep, so Mamma will not be disturbed. (Sings) "By-O baby bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting, To get a little rabbit skin, To wrap the baby bunting in." "Now I will get dinner and clean up the house." This is meat that Bo-Peep is putting on to fry. Now she will set the table. She tells Boy Blue to get the kindling, but he won't, for boys never do mind when their mamma is sick. Bo-Peep wants to whip him, but he hollers so loud when he is whipped that the whole neighborhood would hear him. So she won't. Here is a table cloth. She will spread it on the table, and here are the dishes. My, what a sweet cupboard ! I wish it was mine. Now she has the table set. Oh, I forgot Ruth ! Here she comes. "Oh, I am so glad you came, Ruth you are just in time for dinner." So they all sit around the table (play they are sitting), and Bo-Peep passes the bread. And Boy Blue says, "Oh, give me some pie!" for boys are so rude. Only Bo-Peep will not give him any until he eats some bread. Now the baby is wide awake and Bo-Peep will rock him again. If Bo-Peep didn't have to drink the Brew before she could whip Boy Blue, I would have her do it, for she feels just like it. (Sings to the baby and rocks the cradle.) "Yes, Boy Blue, you can have pie if you want it. Eat it all, no one cares. Pass Ruth a piece, won't you?" That is what Bo-Peep said. "Now there is the school bell, and you will be late. I am not going, for Mamma will need me." So Boy Blue and Ruth went to school, this way, and Bo-Peep said : "Mamma, won't you have some more tea, and some toast?" The mamma wanted some more, so Bo-Peep put this WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN 239 dish on. And, Oh yes, she will fry some meat for Mrs. Farmer. Now it is done, and she spreads some butter on it, and it looks so good that she wants it herself well, play she was cooking some of it for herself, and the tea is for her mamma. Now she sets it on the stand, and goes over here and eats her dinner, and it is fine. Then Mrs. Farmer got well, and Bo-Peep ran hard, and got to school before the last bell rang. That is all. SOME OF MARY LOWE'S EXPERIENCES Here are some interesting incidents of the actual use of the bottle characters. These stories powerfully stimulate the imagination : Once Mrs. Lowe's play club had a funeral. They had a hearse, a coffin, a preacher to conduct the service, a grave under the trees and a retinue of small people in attendance. The children shed real tears, and a boy who saw the burial and did not belong to -the club came next day and shyly put some flowers on the grave ! Another time she turned a lovely night into a stormy one by turning off all the lights but a small candle in a doll house, and flashing the electric lights for lightning, while they pulled a strong box in the shape of a canoe filled with Indians toward a draw-bridge let down. ''Upon that occasion nothing could be heard but the excited breath- ing of the club." One boy to whom Mrs. Lowe told stories, sometimes with the dolls, sometimes with pencil pictures, up to the time she began was below the average in English and draw- ing. Within a month he always had 100 per cent in both. The opportunities for friendly co-operation in bottle- doll play are obvious. A group of children may volunteer to make a certain number of character dolls apiece till the set is completed, but a lively lot will usually not be content to own a set conjointly, and soon each child will determine 240 MANUAL OF STORIES to have a complete set of his own. The educative possibili- ties of constructing such a variety of characters are almost limitless. Sometimes it is possible by sharing in a child s story- telling to show him a side of the subject which otherwise he would have missed seeing. Harry Hall was a very bright child, six years old, un- usually affectionate and sensitive. But he had a tendency to crush everything that opposed him, no matter what the cost. Having no character dolls, he and Mary Lowe piled a white cloth on a couch in such a manner that hills and mountains and valleys were formed. Harry began his story first, tracing with his pudgy little ringers the movements of his imaginary persons. HARRY'S STORY "In this valley beside this big river is a band of fierce wild Indians. They have sharp tomahawks, and they are going to kill animals now. They will march down this valley, up over this hill, and around this cliff on toward the big mountain here in the center. "Up here on the other side of the mountain, high up, is a cave (making a dent in the cloth) and in it a little boy is hiding. He hears the Indians coming, and he thinks it is white men, so he comes down this way. Then he hears a cow bell dingle, and he tries to find the cow. (Lions don't have bells, you know, so he knows it is a cow.) Then pretty soon the whole crowd of Indians war-whooped every one of them at once like this (giving a fair imitation). Then the boy runs and runs, and falls down, and gets up, and runs faster, until he gets to the cave. Now he digs in, and hides away back. "The Indians come this way, over this little hill, down this valley, up this side of the mountain, and now they are on the very top, where they camp. WHAT THEY MEAN TO THE CHILDREN 241 \ "The boy heard them, and was afraid. But the Indians did not know he was there. Then when the meat began to cook, and the fire burned high, one Indian went to sleep, then another Indian went to sleep, then all of the Indians went to sleep, all but one ; he didn't. He ate all the meat up, and waked the other Indians and whooped : ' 'I smell the blood of an Englishman ! I smell the blood of an Englishman !' 'Then all the Indians whooped, 'I smell the blood of an Englishman F ' (At this exciting juncture Harry stopped and said, "I guess I'll let them get the boy. No, I won't.") Then he continued, 'The boy came out of the cave, and ran swift as a deer down the side of the mountain until he got to this river, and got in a boat, and went off. The In- dians saw him, and ran, too, but when they got half way down, an earthquake caved the mountain in, and swallowed them all i