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The Book of the Child 
 
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The 
 
 Book of the Child 
 
 An Attempt to set down what 
 is in the mind of Children 
 
 Frederick Douglas How 
 
 E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY 
 31 WEST 23RD STREET, NEW YORK 
 
 1907 
 

 Printed by 
 
 Sir Isaac Pitman & Sons, Ltd., 
 
 Bath, England. 
 
 (2319) 
 
\ 
 
 Preface 
 
 I AM rather shy about this little book. 
 
 If it were not for the kindness of some few 
 friends whose knowledge of children far 
 exceeds my own, it would never have seen 
 the light. 
 
 For their encouragement and for the gift 
 of their experiences and advice I am deeply 
 grateful. I know that they would rather 
 I did not mention them by name. 
 
 The thoughts which I have tried to put 
 together have l)een growing in my mind for 
 years. Some, in fact, I have quoted from 
 articles I wrote some time ago for a magazine 
 no longer in existence. 
 
 Perhaps my best excuse for letting this 
 book appear is that, though I have no 
 children of my own, other people's children 
 have always been very good to me. 
 
 F. D. How. 
 
 May, 1907. 
 
 270641 
 
Contents 
 
 cirAr. PAGE 
 
 I. THE CHILD ITS ARRIVAL . 9 
 
 II. THE CHILD — ITS MEMORY . . 24 
 
 III. THE CHILD — ITS IMAGINATION . 37 
 
 IV. THE CHILD- ITS RELIGION . . 66 
 V. THE CHILD — ITS IMITATION . 96 
 
 VI. THE CHILD — ITS PLEASURES . .112 
 
 VII. THE CHILD — ^ITS PATHOS . 136 
 
 VIII. WAYSIDE CHILDREN . . . 162 
 
 IX. children's MEETINGS . . 176 
 
 X. APPENDIX 187 
 
The Book of the Child 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS ARRIVAL 
 
 Children have come into greater pro- 
 minence during the last quarter of a 
 century than ever before in the history 
 of this country. Many things have been 
 written about them, many things have 
 been done for them, — ^some fooHsh and 
 some wise, but all suggested by a newly 
 aroused sense of the vital importance 
 attached to their proper upbringing. 
 It is, of course, true that the Cause of 
 
 the Children has been used 
 
 The Cause by both political parties for 
 
 Children. their own purposes, but, 
 
 for all that, there has been 
 a large amount of most valuable 
 
10 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 legislation on the subject during the last 
 twenty years.* The helpless ness of chil- 
 dren and their rights as 
 foSidren. citizens of this country have 
 been better understood and 
 provided for, while their impression- 
 able nature has been reahsed, and the 
 rigour of their training and discipline 
 considerably modified. 
 
 It may be that there has been too great 
 
 a change in some directions. There may 
 
 be a freedom of intercourse 
 
 The Better between children and their 
 
 Children, parents or teachers that 
 
 borders on disrespect. But 
 
 taking one thing with another the position 
 
 of children has altered for the better, and 
 
 it is no bad thing that few subjects have 
 
 greater interest at the present day than 
 
 that of Children. It is an interest, too, 
 
 that has come to stay. Of a distinctly 
 
 softening and refining nature hke the taste 
 
 for gardening, which has brought into the 
 
 * See Appendix. 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 11 
 
 world so many books during the last few 
 years, it is only now beginning to reveal 
 its true importance, and it will increase 
 as from year to year more people perceive 
 its fascination and trace its results. 
 
 Sixty or seventy years ago the chief 
 interest in children shown by parents and 
 teachers was of an extremely 
 ^DSunr"^ discipHnary nature. Many 
 children were not allowed to 
 sit down without permission when in their 
 parents' presence, and it was in many 
 families the rule that the father and 
 mother should be addressed as " Sir " 
 and " Ma'am." Teachers of both sexes 
 ruled mainly by fear, and allowed no 
 intimacy between themselves and their 
 pupils. The rigour of such upbringing 
 and education must have withered many 
 a tender-natured child as a cold black 
 wind in spring will shrivel the opening 
 blossoms of the fruit trees. 
 
 Among the working classes, until the 
 
12 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Church began to establish its schools, the 
 
 children grew up anyhow, and could 
 
 in few cases read or write. 
 
 oi^^l^PooT. Ii^fa^t mortality and un- 
 healthy conditions of child- 
 hood were prevalent. So much was 
 this the case that in 1847, while httle 
 was yet being thought 
 Metropolitan or written about Children, 
 
 Working 
 
 Classes' the Metropohtan Working 
 
 Association. ^^ , ^ • j.- r t 
 
 Classes Association for Im- 
 proving the Public Health 
 actually put out a pamphlet on their 
 proper rearing and training. This docu- 
 ment had some considerable circulation, 
 but its usefulness must have been greatly 
 curtailed by the inabihty of so many 
 people in those days to read. 
 
 Before this pubUcation the literature 
 
 on the subject of children 
 Literature 
 
 Concerning was extremely scanty. Not 
 
 only was this the case but 
 
 those people who did from time to 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 13 
 
 time write on the subject seem to have 
 
 been ashamed of doing so, and their 
 
 works, appearing once or twice in a 
 
 century, are for the most part anonymous. 
 
 There exists a treatise printed by 
 
 Cantreli Legge, printer to the University 
 
 of Cambridge, in the year 
 
 The Office of 1616, with the title '' The 
 
 Christian 
 
 Parents. Office of Christian Parents, 
 showing how Children are 
 to be governed throughout all ages and 
 times of their life. With a brief Admoni" 
 torie addition unto children to answer in 
 dutie to their Parents' office." 
 
 The writer, whoever he may have been, 
 
 appears to have at that very early date 
 
 grasped the importance of 
 
 ^**^^Tth ^^^ ^^^ subject, for he says, 
 Mother. " The Parent is put in trust 
 to goveme the chiefest crea- 
 ture under heaven, to train up that which 
 is called the Generation of God." Being 
 thus impressed with the value of children. 
 
14 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 it is natural to find the author of the 
 
 treatise giving advice that is being more 
 
 and more strongly urged upon parents at 
 
 the present day. Eminent doctors insist 
 
 upon the advantage to infants of being 
 
 personally cared for by the mother, and 
 
 not handed over wholesale to a nurse. 
 
 Educational experts are more and more 
 
 inclined to take the view that children 
 
 should be kept at home as long as possible. 
 
 So far, indeed, has this theory 
 
 Extinction advanced that there is a 
 
 of Boarding suggestion of the ultimate 
 
 Schools. ^^ 
 
 extinction of our great public 
 boarding schools in favour of a larger 
 number of schools so situated that children 
 may attend them as day scholars while 
 still living at home imder parental care 
 and influence. 
 
 The old writer of 1616 made a strong 
 point of the child being cared for by its 
 parents from birth onwards. He (possibly 
 from personal experience) did not even 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 15 
 
 approve of the interference of the grand- 
 mother, for he quaintly observes, " In 
 some places there comes in 
 Interference ^^g child - wive's mother. 
 
 of the 
 Grandmother. She will not have her 
 
 daughter troubled with the 
 
 noursing : and the Father cannot abide 
 
 the crying of the child : therefore a nurse 
 
 is sent for in all hast " — a course of action 
 
 of which he entirely disapproves. 
 
 When the child is a little older 
 he still thinks that its committal to 
 \the care of a servant should be 
 avoided. 
 
 " Wlien a child beginneth to know liis 
 mother from another, there groweth two 
 absurdities, either the mother's fondness 
 maketh it a crying child and restless, or 
 els her careless committing it to a servant 
 spills it." 
 
 Here comes in also his first advice as to 
 the disciplining of a child. He appears to 
 have held strong views as to the necessity 
 
16 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 of firmness, but not to have been in 
 favour of the great severity which often 
 obtained in those days. His 
 o?'chfl& observations are too valu- 
 able even now to be passed 
 over. What could be better than the 
 following ? " Here cometh in the cockling 
 of the parents to give the child the sway of 
 his owne desires to have whatsoever it 
 pointeth to, and so it maketh the parents 
 and all the house slaves, and there is no end 
 of noyse, of crying, and wraling ; or els 
 there is such severitie as the heart of the 
 child is utterly broken." Or again, 
 " When parents do either too much cockle 
 their children, or by home example do 
 draw them to worser things, or els neglect 
 the due discipline and good order, what 
 I pray you can come to passe ? but as 
 we see in trees which beeing neglected at 
 the first are crooked and unfruitful ; 
 contrarily, they which by the hand and 
 art of the husbandman are proined. 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 17 
 
 stayed up, and watered, are made upright, 
 
 faire, and fruitful!." 
 
 It will be observed that this writer 
 
 implies in all the advice he gives that the 
 
 parent is the proper person to 
 
 Parents to bring up a child, not a 
 Superintend ^ ^ 
 
 their servant at home or a teacher 
 
 Upbringing, ^t a distance. " Parents," 
 
 he says, '* should watch and 
 
 attend upon their children for the avoiding 
 
 of evil occasions and to see all duties 
 
 rightly performed." 
 
 How far have we got nowadays from 
 
 this ideal ! How greatly modern habits 
 
 of life have interfered with any such 
 
 possibility ! What the ancient morahst 
 
 quoted above would have said to the 
 
 upbringing of most children at the present 
 
 day it is difficult to imagine. He sums 
 
 up his own point of view very pithily in 
 
 the words, " The egges are badly hatched 
 
 when the bird is away ; and the children 
 
 are unluckily nurtured whose parents are 
 2— (3319) 
 
18 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 made careles, being absent through 
 pleasure." 
 
 More than a century later, in 1748, 
 
 there appeared another anonymous 
 
 publication on the subject. 
 
 Old-fashioned This had for its title '' Dia- 
 
 Severity logues on the Passions, 
 Leads to ° 
 
 Dissimulation. Habits, and Affections pecu- 
 • har to Children." The writer 
 
 was imbued with ideas so far in advance 
 of his time that fear of ridicule may have 
 caused him to conceal his name. His 
 sentiments about the proper treatment 
 of children are very much those at which 
 most people have arrived to-day, when 
 the subject has received much prominent 
 attention for a quarter of a century. He 
 combats the prevailing opinion of that 
 date that the right way to deal with 
 children is by a system of formal repression 
 and severity. Thus he makes one of his 
 characters say, '' I think it necessary that 
 Children should be kept at some distance. 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 19 
 
 They are apt to grow pert, sawcy, and 
 ungovernable if we make too free with 
 them, or permit them the full liberty of 
 speech in our Company." To this the 
 reply is made : "To discover the Diseases 
 of the mind ought to be and must be your 
 principal study. But in this you will 
 never be successful if you set out with a 
 practice which teaches them to conceal 
 every bad symptom." 
 
 The truth contained in these words is 
 
 very generally recognised nowadays. If 
 
 a parent wants to make a 
 
 ^ilytnl ^^^^ untruthful it can be 
 done at once by causing fear, 
 under the guise perhaps of respect, to be 
 the ruling sentiment. Children are only 
 too ready to learn ! ''As soon as they 
 are born they go astray and speak lies." 
 It is a tendency of childhood in every class. 
 A gentleman whose work consists in 
 preparing little boys for the great public 
 schools once said that almost every small 
 
20 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 '^^ boy passes through a phase of lying. The 
 mistress of a Uttle village school declared 
 not long ago that there was only one child 
 there upon whose word she could 
 absolutely rely. 
 
 It follows then that those in charge 
 of children, and especially the parents, 
 should note the advice of the writer of the 
 Dialogues. He insists again and again 
 upon the evil effects of fear. 
 
 " Fear," he says, " I think is the first 
 
 ^ Passion which we can distinctly trace in 
 
 the Mind of a Child. They 
 
 Children ^j.^ susceptible of it almost 
 
 Susceptible ^ 
 
 of Fear. sooner than they can con- 
 ceive the Nature of Danger ; 
 and it is the Misfortune of Numbers that 
 the Nurses find this so easily improved 
 to their purposes that Children find the 
 effects of this passion as long as they live." 
 Again, "As to Dread of Punishment 
 which I have observed to be the lowest 
 and most grovelling kind of Fear, you 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 21 
 
 must by gentle usage remove it from the 
 apprehension of such as have imbibed it 
 from harsh Parents or tyrannical Nurses." 
 
 It is exceedingly remarkable to find a 
 writer in the middle of the eighteenth 
 century who had studied children to such 
 purpose, and who ventured to advance 
 opinions such as those quoted above. 
 
 The latter part of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury saw a rush of literature concerning 
 children. It is possible that 
 Literature of ^j^^ great public efforts made 
 Century. by the various agencies for 
 bettering the lot of homeless, 
 starving, and ill-treated children began 
 to call special attention to the treatment 
 of all children. It may be that the general 
 tendency of the age to level all distinctions 
 between one and another helped to gain 
 greater consideration for the younger 
 members of the community. It may even 
 be that a more general appreciation of 
 the Gospel teaching helped forward this 
 
22 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 result. Or, as some will say, it may be 
 simply that a wave of sentiment swept 
 over the country and brought with it a 
 tenderer regard for little children. It 
 does not much matter what was the cause. 
 The fact remains that a new interest was 
 awakened, the people of England wanted 
 to understand childhood better, and books 
 and magazine articles on the subject 
 appeared in considerable numbers. 
 
 This result, even though some people 
 have thought the supply excessive, has 
 been of great service. The future of a 
 country largely depends upon the proper 
 upbringing of its children. This in its 
 turn depends upon a proper knowledge 
 of the nature of childhood. This know- 
 ledge has been stimulated and increased 
 to an unprecedented degree by the works 
 of the best of the writers who have 
 recently dealt with the subject of children. 
 
 To mention only two or three. Which 
 of us has not been the wiser and the better 
 
THE CHILD'S ARRIVAL 23 
 
 \ for the books of Kenneth Graham, for 
 such an inimitable character study as 
 the Rebecca of Kate Douglas 
 ^ CMd^en'!''^ Wiggin, and for the marvel- 
 lously tender insight into the 
 mystery of the mind of a Httle child 
 which has been shown by William Canton 
 , in the " Invisible Playmate " and " W. V. 
 her Book" ? 
 
 It may be hoped that what is practically 
 a new science may be studied with even 
 greater diligence in the future, and may 
 be given its proper position as of 
 paramount importance. 
 
 Up to the present date more time and 
 pains have been expended and more 
 literature published on the rearing and 
 training of horses and dogs than of the 
 little children upon whom the future 
 destiny of the world depends. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS MEMORY 
 
 It is just this — the memory of a child — 
 
 that makes it so important to begin the 
 
 process of training at once. 
 
 A Baby's fj^^ waxen tablets of a 
 
 Earliest 
 
 Impressions, baby's mind are very soft. 
 It is impossible to say how 
 soon impressions are made upon them, or 
 how deep those impressions may be. It is 
 not impossible that with the very begin- 
 ning of separate existence some vague 
 markings are made upon these unsullied 
 tablets. It is exceedingly interesting to 
 try to imagine what the very earliest 
 impressions are like. Are they first 
 produced by the sense of sight or the 
 sense of touch ? It has been conclusively 
 ^ proved that the senses aid one another to 
 a large extent in the early stages of their 
 use. Bishop Berkeley in an appendix to 
 
 24 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 25 
 
 one of his treatises gives the reports of 
 
 two cases of boys born bHnd with what is 
 
 called congenital cataract. 
 
 Bishop Both cases were cured, one 
 
 Berkeley on 
 
 Blind Boys, at the age of nine, the other 
 at thirteen or fourteen. 
 Neither of these boys when first able to 
 see had the least idea what he was looking 
 at. They both thought that all objects 
 touched their eyes, and neither had any 
 conception of the shape or distance of an 
 object. They were perfectly familiar 
 with differences in shape and material by 
 the process of touch, but when they first 
 obtained sight the appearance of things 
 meant nothing to them until they had 
 handled them. 
 
 But in these cases the sense of touch 
 had existed for years and been greatly 
 cultivated. It was, therefore, natural 
 that the familiar sense should come to the 
 aid of the unfamiliar. 
 
 In newborn babies the circumstances 
 
26 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 are altogether different. All senses alike 
 are novel, and it would be of great interest, 
 if such a thing were possible, 
 Markin^^. ^^ determine whether the 
 earlier memory markings are 
 caused by the vision of light, the sound 
 of voices, or the touch of the hands that 
 first come in contact with the infant form. 
 But it seems altogether out of our power 
 to determine this question with any sort 
 of certainty. None of us is 
 infants"^ able to remember the im- 
 pressions of early infancy, 
 and insufficient observation of the results 
 of ocular, aural, or other contact with 
 external things on the part of babies has 
 resulted in an absence of data upon which 
 to argue. Mothers, nurses, and maiden 
 aunts are often ridiculed for declaring 
 that " baby " has shown some astound- 
 ingly precocious power of observation or 
 recognition, and no doubt these manifes- 
 tations are in a large number of cases 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 27 
 
 accounted for by a desire on the part of 
 the narrator to be able to claim a special 
 ^ share of the infantile affection, or a 
 special power of imparting infantile 
 accomplishments . 
 
 At the same time there is every pro- 
 bability that infants observe and think 
 
 more accurately than would 
 E«ly Memory, ^e generally allowed by their 
 
 casual male acquaintances. 
 The present writer can vouch for at least 
 one case where a permanent impression 
 was made upon the mind of a very young 
 child, and memory markings were in- 
 dented which certainly lasted for several 
 years. The facts are these : A man who 
 shall be called A. B. was invalided and 
 ordered to spend a winter at the seaside. 
 While there a young married couple with 
 their first baby shared his lodgings. The 
 \ child, a boy, was just six months old, 
 and for some eighteen weeks he was the 
 frequent companion of A. B., especially 
 
28 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 when the weather prevented either from 
 going out. During many an hour the 
 baby boy lay on the cushions of a low 
 basket chair kicking and crowing with 
 delight while his man friend talked or 
 sang to him, and so a firm friendship grew 
 up between the two, though its verbal 
 expression was entirely confined to the 
 elder of them. 
 
 When the baby was ten months old the 
 inevitable parting came, and for about 
 two years they saw nothing of one 
 another. At last, however, it became 
 possible for the child's mother to bring 
 him to a house where his old friend was 
 staying. During the journey she said 
 to the little chap, '' Do you know who you 
 are going to see ? You are going to see 
 A. B. " Without a moment's hesitation 
 the boy said, " A. B. with beard ? " 
 showing that he remembered what was 
 no doubt to him the most striking item 
 in his friend's appearance, though at the 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 29 
 
 time that the memory mark was made on 
 his mind he was too young to pronounce 
 the word describing the thing that made 
 the impression. But further evidence of 
 the child's memory was forthcoming, for 
 as soon as he was set down on arrival at 
 the front door of the house he ran straight 
 to A. B. with every mark of affectionate 
 joy at seeing him again. 
 
 Here is an instance of infant memory 
 that is absolutely true, and, as the boy 
 was in no way precocious or unnatural, 
 it is fair to assume that there must be 
 plenty of cases where the impressions 
 made upon an infant's mind during the 
 period when its age is marked by months 
 and not by years are of a far more per- 
 manent nature than is generally assumed. 
 But for most illustrations of children's 
 
 memory we are compelled 
 ^L^'^Agl.^ to begin at a later age. Few 
 
 people remember much that 
 ^ happened before they were three years 
 
30 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 old, but from about that time it is 
 common to find a remarkably clear 
 recollection of certain scattered events 
 or experiences. 
 
 It is a usual thing to hear it said by 
 those who have passed middle age, that 
 their remembrance of their childhood 
 grows clearer as time goes on. This is 
 accounted for by the fact that fewer 
 impressions were made upon their minds 
 during their earliest years, whereas in 
 later life the memory tablets get crowded 
 with all sorts and kinds of markings 
 which become confused and partially 
 unintelligible in a very short time. 
 
 Besides being fewer in number it is 
 
 also probable that in early childhood 
 
 the memory markings that 
 
 Emotions of endure are those of such 
 
 Pleasure experiences as caused strong 
 or Pain, emotions of surprise, plea- 
 sure, or pain. One of the 
 very earliest recollections of the writer 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 31 
 
 is of attending a wedding when he was 
 three years old. But none of the usual 
 incidents impressed him at all. The 
 dresses of the bridesmaids, the appearance 
 of the bride, the bouquets, bells and other 
 accompaniments of a wedding have been 
 completely forgotten. No remembrance 
 of any single person or circumstance 
 remains excepting two things which struck 
 him with astonishment. First of all, he, 
 in common with others attending the 
 service, was taken across a wide river in 
 a boat, and, secondly, he was put to 
 stand close against the back of a harmo- 
 nium, the noise of which at such close 
 quarters was to him extraordinary and 
 rather disagreeable. 
 
 The complete obliteration of everything 
 connected with this visit 
 
 ^eTembered "^^^ ^he ceremony took 
 
 than Griefs, place a day's journey from 
 
 his home — seems to point 
 
 clearly to the fact that the unusual is not 
 
32 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 by itself enough to permanently impress 
 a child's mind, but it must be coupled 
 with sensations of peculiar surprise, or 
 special pleasure or pain. With regard to 
 the two latter it is a beneficent provision 
 that the joys of early life are remembered 
 long after its sadnesses have been 
 forgotten. 
 
 A man looks back on the summers he 
 
 spent as a child in a country rectory. 
 
 It appears to him that the 
 
 Summer Days days were ever sunny : he 
 
 at a Country -^ *^ 
 
 Rectory. recaUs the sharp hiss of the 
 whetstone on the scythe, 
 which told him as he lay in his Uttle bed 
 that the parson's man was mowing the 
 lawn before the dew was off the grass ; 
 he can remember the wild strawberries 
 in the less conventional part of the garden ; 
 he can in fancy take his way to the cow- 
 house, mug in hand, to get a drink of new 
 and frothy milk ; he can climb about 
 the lower branches of a favourite tree ; he 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 33 
 
 can rake and water his little square of 
 garden ; he can come home atop of the 
 last load of hay from the glebe fields ; but 
 it is always in the dancing sunlight that 
 he moves ; it would seem to him that 
 there could never have been any single 
 day in all his childhood when rain came 
 down and skies were grey and cold. 
 
 And so, too, of the life indoors. He 
 remembers much of this in comparison 
 with the later years. He 
 Nurser^y remembers exactly where 
 each piece of furniture stood 
 in the old nursery. He can tell you with 
 what colour the ottoman was covered in 
 which his brothers' and sisters' outdoor 
 things were kept, and he vividly remem- 
 bers standing upon it to look out of the 
 window and watch the gardener at work. 
 He can recall exactly how much of the 
 spout was broken belonging to the old 
 grey teapot in which was brewed the 
 senna tea, but he cannot tell you what 
 
 3— (2319) 
 
34 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 the stuff tasted of — though he is sure that 
 it was nasty. The nursery, the stairs, and 
 the passages are in his memory so many 
 playgrounds ; he forgets the many child- 
 ish tears that he shed, and the childish 
 tragedies that befell him, while the games 
 and the laughter and the pleasantness of 
 his early surroundings are easily recalled. 
 
 But if he examines carefully into his 
 early impressions he will find that the 
 events which older persons might be 
 expected to remember are forgotten, while 
 the little matters that brought to his 
 babyhood's experience sensations of pain 
 1^ or pleasure — but especially the latter — are 
 clear. That is to say, the memory 
 markings made in early childhood do not 
 include the greater number of things 
 which came in contact with the various 
 senses of the child, but are really few in 
 number and connected invariably with 
 special sensations. 
 
 It is a vast mistake to measure the 
 
THE CHILD'S MEMORY 35 
 
 importance of a child's interests by those 
 of a grown-up person. It is easy for the 
 latter to forget every detail of a house 
 in which he has passed some months or 
 even years of middle age, but he will 
 remember a shallow step leading down 
 from one of his nurseries to the other. 
 
 How small a thing ! Yes, but it was 
 productive of great sensations. It was 
 the first step he had ever known — by it 
 was revealed to him the entirely new idea 
 that one room could be on a different 
 level from another. Then he found that 
 it was a splendid place to sit upon — just 
 the right height for him — and a still 
 better place upon which to set up bricks 
 and toys in order to knock them down 
 and hear the crash of their fall. But, best 
 of all, it was the place where his first deed 
 of daring was performed. There came 
 a day when he ventured to jump down ! 
 It was the first time that he had really 
 cared for spectators : it was the first time 
 
36 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 that he had looked round for applause. 
 For all these reasons — all connected with 
 new sensations of pleasure — that little 
 shallow wooden step made a deeper 
 memory mark upon his mind than many 
 subsequent places or events that have 
 perhaps helped to turn the current of his 
 life. But, after all is said, it is impossible 
 not to feel that the unknown is so largely 
 in excess of the known, in this as in many 
 other subjects, that the only thing to be 
 done is to try to induce those who have 
 to do with little children to remember 
 that much is possible and even probable — 
 to act, that is, as if the youngest child may 
 possibly remember for its good or ill any 
 V smallest fact or object with which its 
 senses are brought into contact. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS IMAGINATION 
 
 The imagination of the poet, of the 
 novelist, of the advertiser of a patent 
 ^ medicine, is as nothing compared with 
 that of a Httle child. No one who is 
 unable to realise this will understand 
 children or be really successful in their 
 upbringing. 
 
 Whence come all the marvellous ideas 
 
 that people the brain of a mere baby of 
 
 two or three years ? Is it 
 
 The Riotous that it has descended but a 
 
 Imagination 
 
 of Children, step or two down the stair- 
 case and still has a mind to 
 some extent untrammelled by human 
 limitations and the hard dry facts of 
 earth ? Or is it that, possessed of a 
 keenly receptive power, it has not learnt 
 to control or arrange the multitudes of 
 
 37 
 
38 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 facts that present themselves daily to its 
 senses ? This wonderful imagination is 
 no doubt closely allied with the early 
 powers of memory of which mention has 
 been made, and may also have something 
 at least to do with the early propensity to 
 untruthfulness. Many a 
 Unimaginative child has suffered at the 
 
 Parents. 
 
 hands of an unimaginative 
 parent for words which have been ruth- 
 lessly called lies though they have been 
 \^ so strongly prompted by a vivid imagina- 
 tion that they have seemed as true to the 
 utterer as much that is unintelligible but 
 has to be accepted. 
 
 A moment's thought will show at what 
 
 an early age imagination came into play 
 
 with most people. By far 
 
 Arrangement ^\^q crreater number have 
 
 of the ° 
 
 Numerals, by its aid clothed certain 
 
 abstract ideas in definite 
 
 concrete forms, and have done this when 
 
 so young that it is impossible for them to 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 39 
 
 remember the time when these things 
 first took shape. For instance, most 
 people have a definite arrangement of the 
 numerals. A common form for this to 
 take is that of the numbers one to twelve 
 appearing to run slightly upwards and 
 towards the right, those from twelve to 
 twenty taking a downward turn in the 
 same direction. At the number twenty 
 a sharp turn is taken to the left, and from 
 that point to one hundred they run 
 uphill with an increasing steepness. Many 
 other directions and shapes are discovered 
 by questioning people on this subject, but 
 it is very rare to find an example of the 
 numerals being nothing but an abstract 
 idea. The same thing occurs with the 
 
 months. To most people 
 ^the Months'!^ ^^ey appear in a circle, 
 
 winter being in some cases 
 at the top, and summer in others. In one 
 case a person imagines them in a semi- 
 circle, and in another (the strangest yet 
 
40 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 met with) they are in a zig-zag, three 
 months running up, and three down, and 
 so on, the form being Hke that of a rather 
 stragghng M. 
 
 Colour also is occasionally imagined, 
 and there is no doubt that children are 
 
 specially susceptible to its 
 Colour^ influence at a very early age. 
 
 A writer in the eighteenth 
 century to whom allusion has been made 
 in Chapter I makes the following obser- 
 vation : " There are some children so 
 tenderly organised that many kinds of 
 sounds are harsh to their Infant Ears and 
 apt to fright them, and some colours strike 
 them with too great and quick a Glare and 
 have the same Effect till by Custom they 
 are made familiar to their Organs." 
 It is certain at all events that colour 
 
 has played an important 
 
 the^Days. P^^^ ^^ ^^^ imagination of 
 
 many people from their 
 
 earliest years, A lady declares that all her 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 41 
 
 life long the days of the week have 
 V appeared to her to be of certain definite 
 colours. Thus, Sunday is brick red, 
 Monday the same, Tuesday lilac, Wednes- 
 day white, Thursday dark brown, Friday 
 grey, and Saturday mauve and yellow. 
 All this imagining took place so near the 
 start of her life that the colour, form, etc., 
 of the days appear to this lady to be facts 
 dating from the beginning of time itself. 
 It should be noted that in these and all 
 similar instances the imagination is appa- 
 rently independent of outside influences 
 such as pictures or descriptions which 
 might be supposed to have affected a 
 Httle child. 
 
 It is possible to go further than this 
 and to say that the most vivid imaginings 
 are as a rule those which a 
 ^ChSienZ child produces absolutely 
 and apart from the sug- 
 gestion of others. Under this head comes 
 ^ the imaginary child-friend called into 
 
42 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 existence in most cases by one who has no 
 playmate of similar age. The grown-up 
 people in the house know nothing of this 
 imaginary friend until the real child is 
 overheard talking to it and calling it by 
 name. It is remarkable to notice how 
 nothing seems to disturb the common- 
 place reality of the whole thing in the 
 mind of the child. When the imaginary 
 friend is in the room his or her presence 
 is never for a moment forgotten, and plans 
 are gravely made to suit the convenience 
 not of one only but of both the children. 
 
 Next in importance to the unsuggested 
 imaginings are those to which a sensitive 
 child gives way on the slightest hint. 
 This is a very practical matter, and one 
 to which those who have to do with 
 children should take heed. 
 
 It is impossible to say at how early an 
 age a suggestion of any kind may bear 
 fruit. A lady once said that her childhood 
 was one long misery owing to a vivid 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 43 
 
 imagination of the terrors that awaited 
 
 her for having committed a certain fault 
 
 when a baby in the nursery. 
 
 Imaginary 
 
 Terrors. It was not, she said, that 
 much had been made of it 
 at the time, but there was some suggestion 
 of an awful unknown punishment, which 
 her childish brain worked upon and 
 developed until she dared not be left alone 
 and became a thoroughly morbid and 
 wretched little being. 
 
 It is obvious that too great care cannot 
 possibly be taken by those to whom 
 children are entrusted, inasmuch as a 
 chance word may set a child's imagination 
 working and affect the tendency of its 
 thoughts and actions for years. 
 
 It was suggested at the beginning of 
 this chapter that there is probably some 
 relation between this power of imagination 
 and the tendency to untruthfulness 
 which is found in so many children. It 
 is one of the most difficult things 
 
44 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 possible to define exactly where the 
 knowledge of untruthfulness comes in. 
 
 Probably no two children are 
 
 ^"*^"and^^^^^^ alike in this, and it requires 
 
 Imagination, the utmost tact and a close 
 
 knowledge of a particular 
 child's character to determine the point 
 where the one thing ends and the other 
 begins. 
 
 Here is an example. A short time ago 
 a little boy still in the nursery was taken 
 out by his father in the carriage for a 
 drive. When they arrived at the farther 
 end of the town the little chap was sent 
 home in the carriage by himself, his father 
 having been deposited at his place of 
 business. When the carriage arrived back 
 at the door of the house the parlourmaid 
 came out and carried the child indoors, 
 being surprised to find him in tears. 
 Struggling out of her arms he set off 
 upstairs to the nursery, sobbing bitterly 
 all the way. ** What is the matter, 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 45 
 
 dear ? " said the nurse. " I'se had to 
 walk by mine own self all froo the town, 
 and I was dreffly frightened/' was the 
 reply. *' How ever did you get across 
 the High Street, my poor darling ? " 
 *' There was lots of cabs and cawwiages 
 and things, and I knewed I would be 
 runned over ! " All this with many sobs 
 and much burying of his head in nurse's 
 lap. Hearing the wailing in the nursery 
 up came the parlourmaid, to whom the 
 nurse poured out her indignation. '' Just 
 fancy ! Making this poor lamb walk 
 home all through the town by himself ! 
 It's a mercy he was not killed again and 
 again ! " " Walk through the town ! 
 Why, whatever do you mean ? Why, I 
 lifted him out of the carriage at this very 
 door not ten minutes ago ! " 
 
 Well, the temptation to punish the 
 little fellow must have been great. One 
 hopes it was resisted. There can be small 
 doubt that a vivid imagination had 
 
46 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 mastered him as he drove home alone. 
 It was all *' what might have been," and 
 it became so real to him that it seemed 
 to be '* what was." 
 
 Again, a case recurs to the recollection 
 
 of the writer where a small child was 
 
 summoned into the presence 
 
 Confession Qf ^^ angry parent who 
 Imaginary Sin. listened to no excuses, but 
 insisted so strongly and so 
 often on the guilt of the small boy, that 
 at last he actually seemed convinced by 
 the reiterated accusation and, imagining 
 \^ that his parent must know best, actually 
 confessed to a sin which subsequent events 
 proved the impossibility of his having 
 committed. 
 
 Now for an example where it is probable 
 that the imagination of the child is used 
 for ulterior purposes and the borderland 
 between fancy and untruthfulness is 
 likely to be crossed. 
 
 There is a little girl who a few years 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 47 
 
 ago was possessed of many dolls, but the 
 supreme favourite was an old monkey- 
 doll by name *' Jinks." He 
 Jinks. was so much hugged and 
 cuddled from the first that 
 he soon became shabby. He quickly lost 
 all his hair except a tuft on each side of 
 his face, and his clothes were reduced to 
 a pair of dark blue trousers and a sort of 
 shabby white jersey. But the shabbier 
 he became the more she loved him, and 
 in time, being an ingenious little person, 
 she began to make use of him, as is often 
 the case among grown-up people. The 
 first instance on record is of the simplest 
 kind, but showed much insight into human 
 nature. The little girl had been dis- 
 obedient and was being duly lectured on 
 her fault. She stood there looking very 
 serious with " Jinks " tightly clasped 
 in her arms. All of a sudden the length 
 of the lecture became more than she 
 could bear. Something must be done. 
 
48 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Suddenly she held up the ugly old doll and 
 with a pleasant smile upon her face 
 remarked, '* Look at Jinks ! 'ow 'e's 
 laughing ! " It was an ingenious and 
 effective ruse, but a ruse it w^as and not 
 mere play of imagination. 
 
 On another more recent occasion she 
 made use of " Jinks " in a rather more 
 elaborate fashion. Her everyday gloves 
 were knitted woollen ones and these she 
 disliked intensely. One day she was seen 
 starting out in a pair which were properly 
 kept for Sundays. She was stopped and 
 asked why she had put on her best gloves. 
 " Why," she answered at once, " You see 
 when I was getting ready I thought 
 p'raps I should meet Jinks on the stairs — 
 and he can't bear to see me in those woolly 
 gloves ! " 
 
 Most people who have little children 
 among their friends can remember similar 
 instances, and these are just the cases 
 where firm but sympathetic interference 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 49 
 
 is necessary to prevent confusion between 
 imagination and want of truth. 
 
 Possessed as they are of such great 
 powers of imagination in many directions 
 
 it is curious to notice how 
 o"f^Dea«f. ^i^^^ children seem unable 
 
 to realise or picture to them- 
 selves matters with which they will be 
 familiar enough in after life. Take, for 
 instance, the subject of death. A child 
 will imagine the death of a doll. This is 
 a fancy that occurs rarely, and the imagi- 
 nation goes as a rule no further. A child 
 does not picture to itself the sorrow and 
 loss commonly caused by the death of a 
 real person. A little girl of three years 
 old was sitting on her godfather's knee. 
 There was an immense affection between 
 the two, and either would have missed the 
 other sadly. An old man in the village 
 known by sight to the little girl had lately 
 died, and she had just remarked to her 
 
 godfather quite as a bit of cheerful gossip, 
 4— (2319) 
 
50 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 " Old John is dead." The conversation 
 then turned upon a certain gold watch 
 which the little maiden desired more than 
 anything in the world. Once more she 
 was told, '' No, I really can't give it to 
 you ; I want it so badly myself." Then 
 followed these apparently callous words. 
 " Your hair is rather white 
 
 ategacy' l^^e old John's. I s'pect you 
 will be dead soon. Then can 
 I have the watch ? " 
 
 At first sight this sounds heartless and 
 calculating, but as a matter of fact it was 
 certainly not the former. The subject of 
 death was too big for her imagination, 
 that was all. 
 
 In this same connection it is found that 
 
 pain as affecting others is often very 
 
 slightly realised by children, 
 
 Small a^j^^j ^j^gy seem to be unable 
 
 Imagination -^ 
 
 of Suffering, to imagine suffering such as 
 
 has not come within their own 
 
 experience. It is for this reason that little 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 51 
 
 children often inflict tortures on animals, 
 especially on flies and other small crea- 
 tures which are at their mercy. It is not 
 from a love of cruelty as some people have 
 \ said, but simply because their imagination 
 falls short in this direction, and they do 
 not realise the effects of their actions. 
 
 But, with certain exceptions, a child 
 has invariably an immense capability for 
 imagining. As has been stated, the most 
 vivid fancies seem to spring up unbidden, 
 but it is equally true that it is possible 
 in a large degree to influence the kind of 
 imagination. Happiness is an essential 
 \ atmosphere for the upbringing of a child, 
 ^ and happiness is to a large extent depend- 
 ent in childhood upon imagination. By 
 supplying this atmosphere the best kind 
 of imaginings can be ensured. 
 
 A child whose parents are occupied 
 
 entirely with themselves and their own 
 
 . ; affairs and have no sympathy with 
 
 childish fancies will shrink up into itself 
 
52 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 and have a stunted mental and spiritual 
 
 growth : the terrified child will grow up 
 
 amid horrible imaginings ; 
 Parental . , , ., _ . 
 
 Sympathy, it IS Only the child to whom 
 
 gentleness and sympathy 
 are as the very air it breathes who will 
 imagine happy and beautiful things, and 
 live to enjoy the fulfilment of them here 
 and hereafter. - 
 
 This leads naturally to the poetic 
 imaginings of many children who have 
 
 outgrown their babyhood, 
 imrgTnlngs. ^ut have not yet had their 
 
 fancies blurred and obscured 
 by the tasks and troubles of the world. 
 They possess a gift which all may envy — 
 the gift of endowing all manner of things, 
 both those which are beautiful in them- 
 \ selves and those which are not, with a 
 glory not their own. This gift comes 
 from the power of connecting one thought 
 with another, or perhaps of allowing one 
 idea unconsciously to suggest another, 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 53 
 
 which is the root of all imagination. It 
 is a gift that has brought sunshine and 
 happiness to thousands of children, and 
 is preserved by some in after life. All our 
 great poets and painters have kept hold of 
 this power, and many persons share 
 vicariously in its dehghts as they read 
 the glorious thoughts or gaze on the 
 exquisite pictures that have been thus 
 inspired. 
 
 And yet there are some who scoff. 
 They have forgotten their childhood's 
 gift, and are too self-satisfied to regret it. 
 Not so the old poet Wordsworth. He felt 
 the power leaving him. The brightness 
 of his poetic imagination was on the wane, 
 and he thus lamented it : — 
 
 There was a time when meadow, grove and stream* 
 The earth and every common sight, 
 
 To me did seem 
 Apparell'd in celestial light. 
 The glory and the freshness of a dream. 
 It is not now as it hath been of yore ; 
 
 Turn wheresoe'er I may 
 
 By night or day, 
 Tht things which I hav« seen I now can see no 
 more. 
 
54 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 There are many people who have never 
 troubled to understand children and who 
 are mightily sceptical as to the powers 
 and the charm that is claimed for them. 
 It is hardly possible to do better here 
 than to ask such persons to read the 
 example given below of a child's poetical 
 imaginings. 
 
 The story is told in the first person, and 
 is in the main literally true. It is called 
 " I Wonders " 
 
 " It was a lovely September day. I 
 had any number of duties to fulfil at home. 
 There was a pile of letters 
 " I Wonders " waiting to be answered, there 
 was a magazine article 
 hardly begun for which I had received 
 an urgent demand from the publishers 
 only that morning, and there was a meet- 
 ing of school managers which my con- 
 science told me I ought on no account to 
 miss. But, as I said before, it was a 
 simply lovely day and nature (human 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 55 
 
 and the other) cried shame on staying 
 indoors. Whether I should have had 
 sufficient strength of mind to have 
 resisted the temptation had I been left 
 to fight it out with nature I shall never 
 know, for the enemy received a sudden 
 reinforcement before which I yielded 
 ignominiously and at once. I had gone 
 so far as to clear my blotting-pad of loose 
 letters and to open my ink bottle when 
 there came a tiny tap at the study door. 
 ' Come in ! ' I called, and there ensued 
 a curious twisting at the handle of the 
 door, productive of no result. ' Come 
 in ! ' I called again, and this time there 
 was no further delay. 
 
 *'With a little burst the door flew 
 open and revealed that my visitor was 
 no less and no greater a person than 
 Helen. 
 
 *' Now Helen needs some description, 
 and no better time for giving it could be 
 found than as she stood there at the top 
 
56 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 of the three or four steps which lead 
 up to my sanctum, her face flushed 
 with her struggle with the 
 Helen, door handle. 
 
 " Helen was a town-bred 
 child of five years old, and the colour gave 
 her usually pale face an added charm. 
 . Charm is the right word to use, for, though 
 she did not possess any very great beauty 
 (excepting her large dark eyes and lashes), 
 it was impossible not to fall under her 
 charm. She fascinated by her various 
 moods, often serious almost to melan- 
 choly, but suddenly bursting out into 
 utter and abandoned joyousness. She 
 fascinated again by her vivid imagination, 
 by the sensitiveness with which she shrank 
 from an unresponsive look or word, and 
 by the gradual unfolding of her nature to 
 anyone who understood. She had come to 
 stay with us in our completely country 
 house, and was entranced with the mystery 
 and delight of all she saw. 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 57 
 
 "On that particular morning she had 
 come to demand that I should fulfil a 
 promise to go out and pick blackberries, 
 for had not I said that I had passed 
 quantities of big ones, all ripe and ready, 
 only the day before ? There she stood in 
 her white sun bonnet and her short red 
 flannel jacket, beneath which came the 
 bottom of her white frock and a little pair 
 of legs which country sun and air were 
 already beginning to assimilate to those 
 of our village bairns in colour though not 
 in thickness. 
 
 ** ' Well ? ' I said, to which her only 
 reply was to hold up and shake at me an 
 empty basket with which she had provided 
 herself. ' What's that for ? ' said I. 
 ' I wonders ! ' she answered, using an 
 expression with which we had already 
 become famihar. ' Well,' I said, * you 
 had better tell me.' ' Can't you 
 guess ? ' — with some scorn — and then 
 triumphantly, ' Backberwies, o' course ! ' 
 
58 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 " There was very little more to be said. 
 Nature might have been resisted alone, 
 but nature and Helen would have proved 
 too much for a stronger and more reluc- 
 tant man than I. And so it was arranged. 
 Helen was to meet me in the hall in a 
 quarter of an hour, which would give me 
 time to scribble a couple of notes, one 
 (by the way) to the publishers to say 
 that great pressure prevented my finishing 
 he article that day, which was true — in 
 a sense ! 
 
 *' I have been many walks with many 
 people, but none that I can compare with 
 the one upon which Helen and I started 
 that sunny September morning. I have 
 walked as an undergraduate with learned 
 dons who discoursed of matters beyond 
 my ken. I have walked with ladies of 
 sentiment, who vainly appealed to my 
 sympathy and imagination. But never 
 till that morning did I walk with a 
 companion who carried me with her into 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 59 
 
 another world and who obtained complete 
 sway over my every thought and action. 
 This did not begin all at once. 
 
 *' There was a little bit of the village 
 through which we must pass, and here 
 there were sundry dangers. 
 ^%mlge.^^^ Old Sawyer's black and white 
 sow had got loose and cer- 
 tainly looked formidably large and fierce 
 as she shoved her snout with deep grunts 
 into the ditch beside the road. Then a 
 farmer's collie-dog — a particular friend of 
 mine, but a stranger and therefore a 
 possible foe to my companion — came 
 prancing up. These and other sources 
 of terror, such as the village flock of 
 geese, made it essential that we should 
 proceed with caution and with such 
 strength as a union of hands might afford. 
 However, it did not take long to bring 
 us to the end of the cottages and out on 
 to the road beside which I had seen the 
 blackberries hanging all ready to be 
 
60 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 picked. It was a good wide road with a 
 
 broad strip of grass on either side, along 
 
 one of which was a row of telegraph posts 
 
 which brought the single wire by which 
 
 we were connected with the busy world. 
 
 The hedges were high and bushy — full of 
 
 honeysuckle, now out of bloom, wild roses 
 
 by this time showing only their scarlet 
 
 fruit, wild hops climbing everywhere 
 
 with rapid eager growth, clematis giving 
 
 promise of a hoary show of old man's 
 
 beard, and in and out and over and 
 
 through it all the long thorny brambles 
 
 with their many-coloured leaves and their 
 
 shiny black and red and green berries. 
 
 '* With just one look round to assure 
 
 herself that nobody and nothing was 
 
 about, Helen let go my hand 
 
 -, 7?^ and rushed off like a mad 
 Backberwy 
 
 People. thing along the grass, just 
 
 recovering herself with a 
 
 gasp from a bad stumble over a dried and 
 
 hidden heap of road scrapings. All of a 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 61 
 
 sudden she stopped. She had caught . 
 sight of the ' backberwies ' and of the 
 numberless other briUiant and tempting 
 objects in the hedge. In a moment 
 her imagination had caught fire. ' I 
 wonders ! ' she said as I came up. Then, 
 when her breath was quite recovered, she 
 added very earnestly, ' Can us get them 
 backberwy people ? It's vewy dangewous, "^ 
 isn't it ? Look at them nettles and 
 fistles ! Is them the backberwies' 
 policemen — I wonders ? ' 
 
 '* If they were, they proved very useful 
 as far as warding off attacks on the part 
 of a little bare-legged maiden went. 
 However, by dint of very careful steering 
 she managed to get close up to a splendid 
 cluster of fruit and had picked some four 
 or five when one of the sharp hooky 
 thorns tore her finger and brought tears 
 into her eyes. Even so, the play went on. 
 ' Oh ! the backberwies' dog has bit me ! ' "^ 
 she cried, as she held up the poor little 
 
62 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 finger for me to see. It was really a nasty 
 prick, and I could see that it hurt her a 
 good deal, so I tied her handkerchief 
 round it, and said we would try to find 
 a place further on where the dogs were 
 not so savage. 
 
 *' We went on a yard or two and passed 
 
 close to one of the telegraph posts through 
 
 which a light breeze was 
 
 The humming. Helen stopped 
 
 Backbefwy 
 
 Ball. short with eyes dilated and 
 open mouth. ' Oh ! I 
 wonders ! ' she cried. ' What is it ? ' I 
 asked her. She whispered to me to keep 
 quite still while she went to see, and 
 proceeded to put her ear against the post, 
 holding up one finger of the injured hand 
 in warning to me not to stir. * There's 
 beautiful music,' she said at last very 
 softly, ' there's a ball, and all the little 
 backberwies is dancing ! ' I said that if 
 the old blackberries let the young ones 
 go to a ball without them it served them 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 63 
 
 right if they got picked themselves. I 
 then suggested that we should go on to 
 the next post and see what was going on 
 there. As we went Helen noticed that 
 near each one there was a heap of stones 
 and a bare gravelly patch of ground. 
 ' Them is the backberwy houses,' she said, "^ 
 * and all the backberwies are out, and the ^ 
 children are gone to a dancing class, so 
 the old backberwies send them by their- 
 selves.' So the little difficulty which I 
 had mentioned was explained away, 
 though to the vividness of her imagination 
 it had evidently presented a real difficulty 
 and had not been forgotten. 
 
 " Presently, after listening to the music 
 in several telegraph posts, saying that 
 there was an organ in one and fiddles in ^ 
 another, while in a third she declared 
 that the blackberries were singing, she ^ 
 returned to the hedge and the more 
 serious duty of filling her little basket. 
 All the time, however, she kept up a 
 
64 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 comment upon what she saw. The red 
 hips and haws were * the backberwies' 
 soldiers,' the elderberries were their 
 clergymen, and the sloes were guards. 
 Every few minutes she stopped in a sort 
 of ecstasy at all that was around her, and 
 gazing in one direction and another 
 would softly say, ' Oh ! I wonders ! ' 
 It was evidently a revelation of beauty to 
 her, and at the same time a scene of mys- 
 tery, a sort of fairyland where everything 
 thought and hved and breathed. 
 
 ** At last the basket was getting nearly 
 
 full, and in stretching up for some 
 
 specially fine berries a dog- 
 
 ^^Sddkrs^^"^ rose thorn tore the back of 
 
 my hand, leaving a long 
 
 scratch. Helen's anger knew no bounds. 
 
 '* 'The wicked, wicked soldiers,' she said, 
 
 and then taking several of the bright red 
 
 hips she tore them into fragments and 
 
 threw them away. And now we had 
 
 wandered backwards and forwards along 
 
THE CHILD'S IMAGINATION 65 
 
 that special bit of hedge until all the 
 blackberries within reach were picked, 
 and only the baby green ones were left. 
 ' Will they die if we leaves them all 
 alone ? ' she said, and then she gathered 
 as many as possible, and carr)HLng them 
 in her two hands placed them in little 
 heaps near each telegraph post that they 
 might be noticed when the balls and 
 concerts were over. 
 
 " I said that I wondered what the yomig 
 blackberries would do when they came 
 out and found all their fathers and 
 mothers gone, and only the little babies 
 left. And Helen said * I wonders.' " 
 
 5- i^if) 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS RELIGION 
 
 Probably one of the earliest perplexities 
 that presents itself to a parent is the 
 
 question of the child's reh- 
 ^o^'paS' gi^^- And yet it is doubtful 
 
 whether in the generality of 
 cases the matter is considered early 
 enough. There are, evidently, three kinds 
 of parents taking three separate views of 
 the question. There are those who hold 
 distinctly materialistic opinions, and who 
 therefore deliberately decline to enter 
 into the subject at all. They agree with 
 
 the sentiments expressed in 
 
 French Work a French work on children 
 
 on Children. i t i j i r 
 
 published some quarter of a 
 
 century ago in which the following pas- 
 sages occur : *' We may boldly assert 
 that the sense of religion exists no more 
 in the intelligence of a little child than 
 
 66 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 67 
 
 does the supernatural in nature.*' And 
 again : "In our opinion parents are very 
 much mistaken in thinking it their duty 
 to instruct their Uttle ones in such things, 
 which have no real interest for them — 
 as who made them, who created the world, 
 what is the soul, what is its present and 
 future destiny, and so forth." 
 
 It is a happiness to believe that few 
 EngUsh parents endorse these views. The 
 extraordinary stir made by an Education 
 Bill, the chief concern of wliich was to 
 affect the religious teaching of children, 
 is evidence of a widespread belief in the 
 necessity of such teaching. 
 
 But, in the second place, there are some 
 
 parents who are simply careless. They 
 
 would be rather shocked at 
 
 Parents! ^^^^g ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^y ^^^^" 
 selves were irreligious, but, 
 
 when they forget all about their children's 
 
 religion, it cannot be supposed that their 
 
 own is of much real concern to them. 
 
68 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Thirdly, there are the parents who 
 desire beyond all things that their 
 children shall lead reUgious 
 pints' lives, and are anxious to do 
 their utmost to start the 
 little feet on the right path. It is this 
 class of parent who is often perplexed 
 to know what is best. The difficulties 
 are certainly great. Children diifer so 
 widely that what is good for one child 
 may be harmful for another. But in 
 almost all cases the tendency is to put off 
 religious teaching too long. The mind 
 of a very young child — one who would be 
 commonly described as a 
 Early baby — has been proved again 
 ^TgooT' ^nd again to be remarkably 
 and Evil, receptive of evil as well as 
 of good influences and im- 
 pressions, and the earher a baby's mind 
 can be filled with the very simplest 
 religious truths the less room there will be 
 for evil, and the greater the likelihood of 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 69 
 
 a firm belief in truths that have been 
 absorbed almost with the mother's milk. 
 
 This leads to the question of how far 
 a very young child has any direct personal 
 religion ; any feeling, that is, of a direct 
 communication even of the most element- 
 ary kind between itself and its God 
 without the intervention of any human 
 being. 
 
 It would probably be true to say that 
 
 at first this is impossible, but that at a 
 
 very early age the sense can 
 
 A Child's be imparted. To quote the 
 
 Personal words of a mother who has 
 
 Religion, brought up a number of 
 
 children in the fear and love 
 
 of God, personal religion in children " of 
 
 course begins by being mixed up with 
 
 Mother, who, if she is a real mother, is to 
 
 her babies the representative of warmth, 
 
 comfort, love, and everything that they 
 
 want." When, in addition to this a child 
 
 has depended for months upon its 
 
70 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 mother for food, and has constantly 
 
 slept in her arms, the influence of that 
 
 mother is so great that 
 
 Religion her religion natur#ly be- 
 through the 4.U V • X xu 
 Mother. comes the religion of the 
 
 child, who accepts every 
 
 word she says absolutely. Thus, the 
 
 " God bless you " and the words of 
 
 loving prayer which come so often and 
 
 so naturally to a mother's lips are 
 
 absorbed by the child until its faith in 
 
 some unconscious way grows into its 
 
 life and becomes a real thing between 
 
 itself and its God. 
 
 Thus, it will be seen that there is a 
 
 certain truth underlying a statement 
 
 made by the French author quoted above 
 
 when he says : " Children's reverence and 
 
 love attaches itself to the human beings 
 
 who are kind to them, but to nothing 
 
 which is invisible or distinct from their 
 
 species. Their instinct of finality is 
 
 wholly objective and utilitarian." It is 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 71 
 
 true that in the first instance a baby's 
 reverence and love attaches itself to the 
 mother, but to assert that afterwards it 
 rejects anything invisible or apart from 
 its own species is to deny the influence 
 of a religious feeling flowing through the 
 mother to the child, and to limit the power 
 of the Spirit of God who can surely dwell 
 in the heart of a very little child. 
 
 An example of the way in which children 
 of very tender years can and often do 
 grasp the great truths of the religion 
 which they inherit from their parents 
 has lately been told to the writer by the 
 mother of the child in question. 
 
 She was a little girl of three and a half 
 
 years old, and was taken one day by her 
 
 father into the church in 
 Where She 
 
 was which she had been baptized. 
 
 Pointing to the font, he said, 
 
 *' Do you know what happened to you 
 
 there ? " For a moment the child looked 
 
 perplexed, and nestling up to her father 
 
72 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 said, ''You tell me, daddy." " No,'' he 
 replied, " I want you to tell me." There 
 was another moment's hesitation, and 
 then she looked up at him and very 
 solemnly said, " I was heavened there ! " 
 
 Probably no answer that she could 
 have made would have been so compre- 
 hensive and so convincing of the real 
 grasp of the truth as this word her baby 
 intelligence had coined. 
 
 Examples can easily be found to show 
 at how early an age a child may be 
 influenced for good or evil. " I have 
 seen," says a parent, " a baby trained to 
 habits of cleanliness in six weeks of life," 
 and it is doubtless true that the difference 
 between good and evil first of all means 
 to a child what is allowed or what is 
 forbidden. But together with this it 
 must always be remembered that there 
 is the sense of safety and of love which, 
 originally connected with " Mother," is 
 (in the case of a religious parent) speedily 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 73 
 
 carried onwards and upwards to the love 
 and care of God. 
 
 In this connection a passage in Olive 
 
 Schreiner's " Story of an African Farm " 
 
 can hardly be omitted. It 
 
 Sch?dner. ^'^^^ ^^^^ : " The SOuls of 
 
 little children are marvel- 
 lously delicate and tender things, and keep 
 for ever the shadow that first falls on them, 
 and that is the mother's, or, at best, a 
 woman's. There never was a great man 
 who had not a great mother : it is hardly 
 an exaggeration. The first six years of 
 / our life make us : all that is added later 
 is veneer. And yet some say, if a woman 
 can cook a dinner or dress herself well, she 
 has culture enough." 
 
 All that has been so far written in this 
 chapter on Children's Religion is of 
 necessity vague and rather difficult.. To 
 arrive at facts is almost impossible. The 
 best that can be done is to speak of 
 probabihties in the light of that faith 
 
74 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 which has been handed down. The 
 rehgion of children of less tender years 
 presents fewer difficulties, and to the 
 consideration of this it is proposed now 
 to turn. 
 
 But while the difficulties are fewer, they 
 do not altogether disappear. It is often, 
 for instance, extraordinarily difficult to 
 determine in the case of a child of six or 
 seven years how far his or her religion 
 has even at that age become directly 
 personal, or whether God is not often a 
 Being to whom access is only possible 
 through someone else. 
 
 The evidence obtainable on this point 
 
 is most contradictory. A mother writes, 
 
 '' Children's faith soon be- 
 
 Religion of comes a real thing between 
 
 Rather Older ^ 
 
 Children, them and their God. My 
 
 little boy of five is perfectly 
 
 delightful in the fulness of his faith. 
 
 Only to-night when I had gone up, as I 
 
 always do, to tell him a Bible story or sing 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 75 
 
 some hymns before he went off to sleep, 
 he suddenly said, * Mother, don't you 
 
 wish Jesus was on earth 
 ^F^^th^'' now ? ' When I said, ' Why 
 
 do you wish it ? ' he answered 
 without the least hesitation, 'Because 
 I should go to Him and ask Him to 
 make me good for always.' And then, 
 a little time afterwards, he suddenly 
 started up, when I thought he was asleep, 
 and said, ' Oh ! mother, wouldn't it be 
 dreadful if we had not got a God ! ' " 
 
 Another mother tells of a little daughter 
 who has been ** a doubting Thomas from 
 
 her babyhood," To her the 
 ^Thomas?^ personaHty of God was very 
 
 real, but she refused to 
 accept anything at first through the 
 medium of another — even of her mother. 
 A good many of her quaint sayings have 
 been preserved — and her mother still 
 remembers how disconcerting these often 
 were in the course of a Bible lesson. She 
 
76 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 would suddenly break in with " Why was 
 God so cruel ? I hate Him. Can't you 
 explain ? I don't think much of Him 
 if He doesn't let fathers and mothers know 
 everything ! " At the same time she was 
 seldom wiUing to accept much on anyone's 
 judgment but her own. A httle brother 
 shared her lessons, and often sighed with 
 impatience at her interruptions. *' Oh, 
 
 R ," he would say, " I do wish you 
 
 could get some trust ! " When learning 
 the Catechism this little girl refused to 
 say, " Yes, verily, so I wiU." " No," she 
 said, " I shan't say that. I haven't made 
 up my mind whether I want to be good 
 or not, and I certainly shan't say that." 
 So for about six months that question 
 was never put to her, and at last one day 
 she remarked, *' I could say that now if 
 you like ! " 
 
 In both these instances there can be 
 little doubt that no one came in any way 
 between the child and the Creator, but, 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 77 
 
 on the other hand, a good many parents 
 
 consider that there is for some years 
 
 a difficulty in the minds of 
 
 Relative children as to the inter- 
 Importance of . . ^ , . 
 
 Authorities, vention 01 human bemgs 
 between them and God, 
 arising either from their habit of connect- 
 ing their prayers and religious experiences 
 mainly with their mother or nurse, or 
 from a curious inability to realise the 
 supremacy of the Almighty. An example 
 of this latter difficulty may be given in the 
 words of a little child in Yorkshire who 
 was overheard to say to a companion, 
 ** Don't do that or perhaps God will see 
 you, and He'll teU the Vicar." 
 
 Much has been written by others about 
 
 children's prayers, but it is impossible to 
 
 ignore what is to them the 
 
 ^Praye«'* most real and important part 
 
 of their religion. A lady 
 
 living in Cheltenham says : "I think that 
 
 children get a belief in prayer very early. 
 
78 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 My youngest girl the other day looked 
 tired, so I said that she had better 
 not come to the evening service. ' Oh, 
 but I must/ she said, ' I want to pray 
 for Miss Beale.' " This was at the begin- 
 ning of that well-known lady's fatal illness. 
 Another example of belief in prayer on 
 the part of a child was brought to the 
 
 notice of the present writer 
 ^Tn^p^aylr!^^ by a sister of the boy of 
 
 whom the story is told. 
 When a very little chap his brothers and 
 sisters were all invited to a children's 
 party at a neighbouring house, but he 
 had not been included. Much to his 
 grief it was decided that he had better 
 be put to bed when the others started 
 for the party. When saying his prayers 
 he earnestly asked that even yet he might 
 go to the party. He had hardly been 
 tucked up in bed before a messenger 
 came to say that the omission of his name 
 had been an accident and that it was hoped 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 79 
 
 he might still come. He was hurriedly 
 dressed, and in a few minutes had joined 
 the others in their festivity. The impres- 
 sion made upon the boy's mind was never 
 erased. From that day forward he never 
 failed to pray about every smallest event. 
 If he went to a shop to buy a knife he 
 would pray to be guided in his choice. 
 If he went out to dinner he would silently 
 pray as he took off his coat in the hall 
 that the evening might be enjoyable. 
 Nothing ever again shook him in his belief 
 in the power of prayer. 
 
 Some of the original petitions in chil- 
 dren's prayers are often exceedingly quaint, 
 but they go to prove their 
 Children's belief in their words being 
 PetitTons. heard, and it would be cruel 
 to laugh at them or snub 
 the expression of their desires. Some 
 friends of the writer when they were little 
 used to be very fond of interpolating their 
 special wishes into their prayers. One 
 
80 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 of them when a tiny girl kneeUng at her 
 mother's side after praying for her father 
 and mother and brothers and sisters, 
 \ said, " And please God make mother less 
 strict." 
 
 Another child in the same family had 
 been shown a coloured picture of Noah's 
 sacrifice and the rainbow, which impressed 
 her so much that she added to her evening 
 prayers, '* And oh ! God, please show 
 me a rainbow very soon ! " 
 
 From the same source comes a charming 
 story of a small boy who had taken a 
 dislike to a cousin of his own age called 
 Malcolm. It so happened that each of 
 them had a baby brother, and the httle 
 boy in question broke off in the middle 
 of his prayers one evening to ejaculate, 
 ** Please God make me and my baby 
 brother stronger and stronger, and 
 Malcolm and his little brother weaker and 
 \ weaker, so that when we fight we may 
 conquer ! " 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 81 
 
 The next point to be noticed in dealing 
 
 with the rehgion of children is the vexed 
 
 question as to the wisdom 
 
 cSgoing. ^^ enforcing attendance at 
 
 pubhc worship. There can 
 
 be no doubt at all that, if overdone, 
 
 compulsory churchgoing may lead to 
 
 disastrous results. A man to whom 
 
 frequent attendance at ser- 
 
 Too^Much ^'^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ 
 irksome, looks back to his 
 
 childhood when he was expected to be 
 
 present at Sunday services, week-day 
 
 services, Sunday School, choir practices, 
 
 missionary and other meetings, until he 
 
 became weary of the very name of such 
 
 things. Rather nervous of blame, he 
 
 never ventured to express a wish to 
 
 absent himself, and to those early days 
 
 and their discipline he ascribes his present 
 
 reluctance. 
 
 On the other hand, it is no doubt true 
 
 that it is dangerous to use no compulsion, 
 6— (3319) 
 
82 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 and to allow the formation of a habit 
 
 of staying away from church on the 
 
 smallest excuse. The real 
 
 Too^LUtU ^iffi^^l^y i^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^ course 
 between making Sunday the 
 dull, cold, miserable day that it too 
 frequently became in the earlier part of 
 the last century and allowing it to be 
 as secular as it so often is at present. 
 
 A lady who has been specially success- 
 ful in bringing up her children to love 
 Sunday and its observances, says, " I 
 make a point of extra nice clothes and nice 
 food on Sundays (it sounds horribly 
 material !) but I want to make everything 
 connected with goodness and religion 
 attractive, and, however much we may 
 wish they were not so, our souls and 
 bodies affect each other in an extraor- 
 dinary way. My youngest child of five 
 and a half, having begun Churchgoing 
 regularly six months ago, begs to stay on 
 through the whole service, only saying 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 83 
 
 at the end, ' What a lot of kneehng ! But 
 I like it ; can I stay again ? ' Of course, 
 there were two reasons for his wish : 
 his love of being near me, and the music 
 which he also loves." 
 
 Another instance may be quoted here, 
 
 taken, as was the last, from the family 
 
 of lay people. Here again 
 
 ^^w^b^^ everything was done to make 
 
 Children. Sundays bright and happy 
 
 and to bring up the children 
 
 to consider Churchgoing a treat. So 
 
 fond did they become of the services that 
 
 the two youngest — a girl of seven and a 
 
 boy of five — were accustomed to hold a 
 
 special service of their own when with 
 
 their mother in the drawing-room after 
 
 tea on Sundays. Their mother describes 
 
 these functions as follows, and, though 
 
 they may seem to some people to have 
 
 a spice of '* play acting," yet the 
 
 children were extremely in earnest in all 
 
 they did. Here is her account : " They 
 
84 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 used to put on pinafores, the opening to 
 come in front, and wore sashes for stoles. 
 My duty was to sit at the piano as 
 organist. I had to play a voluntary as 
 they came in. They chose the hymns, 
 and each chose a chapter in the Bible to 
 read. They stood on a chair to read their 
 chapters. One day I remember that the 
 little boy, who could not yet read very 
 fluently, chose the one in St. Luke 
 with seventy-two verses and went straight 
 on with it to the end ! They took it in 
 turns to preach, again standing on the 
 chair. The elder child always wrote her 
 sermon, but the little boy's was extem- 
 pore. After the sermon the missionary 
 box was handed round and we each put 
 something in. The service ended by 
 their kneeling down side by side and 
 singing ' Jesu, tender Shepherd, hear 
 me.' One evening the younger child 
 stood up on his chair to preach, and began 
 to get redder and redder and looked very 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 85 
 
 much worried, but I did not dare to move 
 from my seat as organist. At last his 
 sister whispered, ' What's the matter, 
 darhng ? ' on which he said, ' Every 
 word of the sermon has gone out of my 
 head.' So she promptly stood on her 
 chair and said, ' The congregation will 
 excuse the sermon this evening. Hymn 
 No. 348.' I have come across one of the 
 little girl's written sermons, and give it 
 here : — 
 
 "'Little Children Love one Another.' 
 
 " * You love your brother and sister 
 
 very much indeed though you do fight 
 
 with them. Yes, that noutty, 
 A Child's noutty Sayten gets inside 
 Sermon. -^g, and then we can't fight 
 
 without Jesus' help. Yes, 
 if we ask Him to help us I know He will. 
 He is so kind. He will do almost any- 
 thing you ask Him to do for you, if it is 
 not wrong. Yes, we all go wrong some- 
 times and feel very cross with ourselfs. 
 
86 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Little children sometimes think that all 
 big people are very good indeed, but they 
 all go wrong, too, as well as you or I might, 
 but God knows all our ways and what 
 we do and sees and hears what we say. 
 Oh ! then, little children, love one 
 another, and so we must love Him.' " 
 
 As to the number and kind of services 
 
 to which children should be taken it 
 
 is impossible to lay down 
 
 Simplicity a general rule. Where 
 
 in Speaking to ^j ^, ., , > c • >» 
 
 Children. Children s Services are 
 held by a man who has the 
 gift of attracting and interesting children, 
 the difficulty is partially solved. But 
 these are not much use when they are 
 conducted by persons who cannot suffi- 
 ciently simplify their language, or by 
 those who are so far out of sympathy with 
 their audience as to appear to be conde- 
 scending or in the smallest degree pom- 
 pous — characteristics which are readily 
 observed and resented by all children. 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 87 
 
 But probably many people will agree 
 that " Children's Services " alone cannot 
 supply all that is required, in so far as 
 they do not accustom children to the 
 ordinary Church services, as to which it 
 is not too much to say that a certain 
 amount of familiarity breeds affection 
 rather than contempt. 
 
 But in considering the advisability of 
 
 taking Httle children to Church, due 
 
 regard must be had to the 
 
 Differences individual child. As has 
 in Children's 
 
 Temperament, been said, it is absolutely 
 impossible to lay down a 
 general rule. Even the members of the 
 same family are frequently so different in 
 disposition as to make it unwise to treat 
 them all alike. Some may be so sensitive 
 to the awe-inspiring atmosphere of reli- 
 gious services as to cause a fear lest their 
 mind should become morbid on the 
 subject. Very probably such children 
 would express a strong wish to attend on 
 
88 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 every possible occasion, but their pleasure 
 is akin to that which is sometimes felt by 
 people of unhealthy mind who dehght 
 in torturing themselves by picturing 
 nameless horrors. Other children, and 
 these are the most frequently found, look 
 upon Churchgoing as an entertainment 
 enjoyed by grown-up people and therefore 
 much to be desired, though they them- 
 selves soon grow weary of the whole 
 thing. 
 
 An example of what is meant came to 
 
 the notice of the writer a short time ago 
 
 when staying in the same 
 
 ^r Church?'' house with two httle children, 
 
 a brother and sister, who 
 
 were taken to an afternoon service for 
 
 almost the first time in their lives. The 
 
 boy, a year or two the elder, was a rather 
 
 nervous, highly-strung little chap, and he 
 
 spent nearly the whole time in saying in 
 
 a very low voice, " O God, help me ! 
 
 I will be good ! " He seemed unable to 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 89 
 
 think of anything but the fact that he 
 was in God's house, and unable to get 
 rehef from the overpowering sensation of 
 awe. His httle sister, on the other hand — 
 a fat, merry, matter-of-fact child — evi- 
 dently considered the whole thing to be 
 a kind of social function interfered with 
 by most unnecessary restrictions. She 
 turned herself about from side to side 
 and nodded and smiled at her numerous 
 acquaintances, paying especial attention 
 to the seats occupied by the servants from 
 the house where she was staying. After 
 a time she yawned audibly and gave 
 obvious signs of getting bored, finally 
 nestling against her mother's side and 
 faUing sound asleep. It is obvious to 
 everyone that two children such as these 
 would need very different treatment in 
 the matter of Churchgoing and religious 
 education generally. 
 
 Such a child as the little girl described 
 above may be said to possess the normal 
 
90 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 feelings of her age. Most very young 
 
 children are entirely unable to grasp the 
 
 greatness of God and the seriousness 
 
 of religion. If they appear 
 
 Children's ^q Q^^er people to be 
 
 Unintentional ^ ^ 
 
 Irreverence, irreverent, it must not be 
 counted to them for a sin. 
 It is simply caused by the limitations of 
 their understanding. Thus, a small child 
 was heard to call out during the baptism 
 of a baby, *' Why doesn't he use a sponge ? " 
 No irreverence was meant, but the remark 
 showed that the child's mind was further 
 developed in practical than in spiritual 
 matters. So, again, the absurd questions 
 so often put by little children when told 
 that God is everywhere. It is very 
 common for them at once to suggest all 
 kinds of ridiculous places without meaning 
 in any way to be irreverent. 
 
 Such things of course add to the 
 difficulties of teaching religion to those 
 who are very young, but it is certain 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 91 
 
 that great patience and tenderness is 
 
 necessary for those who attempt the 
 
 task. Forgetfulness of the 
 
 Great point of view of the child 
 Patience ^ 
 
 Necessary, often leads to expressions of 
 horror and even of anger 
 at apparently profane remarks, but such 
 expressions are unjust and may not 
 seldom give the child a permanent dislike 
 to what ought to be the happiest of all 
 its lessons. 
 
 One other caution may be given here. 
 
 It is a fatal mistake for those who are 
 
 bringing up little children to 
 
 Little Children gpeak in their presence of 
 have Long ^ ^ 
 
 Ears. religious matters in a way 
 
 which they do not desire the 
 children to absorb and do not fancy that 
 they understand. A child may be build- 
 ing a house of bricks in a far corner of 
 the room and yet be listening with all its 
 ears to the talk going on between its 
 elders. A very little boy was once taken 
 
92 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 to Church when a sermon was preached 
 about the Will of God. No one thought 
 it possible that he understood a word of 
 it, but at tea that afternoon he was, being 
 slightly out of sorts, allowed no jam, on 
 which he promptly said, " Well, if it's 
 God's Will that I should have nothing 
 but bread and butter, it's no good fighting 
 against it ! " — a practical and excellent 
 comment upon the morning's sermon. 
 
 Lest anything that has been written in 
 this chapter should seem to be discourag- 
 ing as to the religious training of children, 
 two things may be set down here as full 
 of hope. 
 
 The first may be disposed of in a few 
 
 words. There is little doubt that women 
 
 are naturally more religious 
 
 ol^'womL than men, or at least that 
 they more easily give ex- 
 pression to their feelings and beliefs. 
 What a great matter it is, then, that the 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 93 
 
 earliest training of children is in the hands 
 of women ! It is quite possible that the 
 reason for the greater religious expression 
 on the part of women lies to some extent 
 in the fact that girls remain so much 
 longer under the direct influence of their 
 mother. But that is by the way ; what 
 is important is that there are multitudes 
 of truly religious women who may best 
 of all be trusted to impart their own faith 
 to little children. 
 
 The other matter for hopefulness lies 
 in the fact that the very things that 
 often present difficulties to 
 D r^ht^^^'th gr^wn-up people are specially 
 Unseen. attractive to children. Any- 
 thing connected with the 
 unseen world, anything quite impossible 
 according to the laws of nature as we 
 know them, interests and takes hold of 
 children at once. This is plain from the 
 often-repeated request, " Do tell us a 
 fairy story." 
 
94 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 When to this is added the impression 
 
 made on a child's mind by the vision 
 
 of a gorgeous sunset, or of a 
 
 Impression great \vide-spreading view, 
 
 Beauties there seems to be a good deal 
 
 of Nature, upon which it is possible to 
 
 work. A man friend of the 
 
 writer has told him that his first real 
 
 impressions of the greatness and goodness 
 
 of God came to him as a child when 
 
 contemplating beautiful scenery; and an 
 
 aunt of the late Bishop Walsham How 
 
 used to say that when he was a very little 
 
 boy, and was looking from a window at 
 
 the sunset, he was heard to say, '' Oh ! 
 
 God ! " 
 
 How easy it would be to kill these 
 
 beginnings of faith ! How easy for a 
 
 teacher who had studied the 
 
 ^CritkLm^'' Higher Criticism to wither 
 
 the growth of a beUef in the 
 
 unseen and incomprehensible ! Is it 
 
 worth while to risk this by scrupulously 
 
THE CHILD'S RELIGION 95 
 
 teaching that Elijah's chariot of fire and 
 Jonah's whale had better be taken as 
 allegories ? A teacher with great expe- 
 rience of little children has said, and said 
 most truly, '' Religion attracts greatly 
 because of the mystery which surrounds 
 the unseen. Besides this, the beauty 
 and the wonderful fitness of all things in 
 nature strengthen more than anything 
 a child's belief in a Divine Creator." 
 
 Perhaps, as one last word, it may be 
 said that that mother will succeed best 
 in the religious training of her children 
 who feels that it is the chief and highest 
 work she has to do. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS IMITATION 
 
 No one who has to do with children can 
 fail to be struck by their almost universal 
 \ habit of imitation. This 
 
 Selection of begins at a very early age, 
 the^Path^of ^^^' while some imitative 
 a Child. expressions and gestures are 
 partly the result of heredity, 
 others are ob\dously copied from the 
 persons with whom the child is most 
 familiar. This makes it, of course, ex- 
 tremely important that the servants and 
 even the friends who are brought most 
 closely into contact with a child should 
 be selected with the greatest care. 
 
 How often a bad accent or " twang " is 
 picked up as soon as a child begins to 
 speak, and with what difficulty it is 
 eradicated afterwards ! The habit, too, 
 
 96 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 97 
 
 which obtains with some parents (who 
 
 do not want to be bothered with their 
 
 children) of letting them 
 
 S^ants'Vall. ^^"^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ 
 servants is greatly to be 
 
 deprecated. It saves the trouble of a 
 
 special nursery dinner, audit often happens 
 
 that the servants in a house are fonder of 
 
 the company of the children than are their 
 
 parents, but for all that the tendency to 
 
 imitate is so strong that habits are pretty 
 
 sure to be learnt which it will be very 
 
 troublesome to get rid of afterwards. 
 
 Here is an example : 
 
 A little girl, whom circumstances had 
 
 relegated to the entire charge of servants, 
 
 was taken out to a children's tea-party, 
 
 when she was scarcely four years old. 
 
 It was a splendid tea, and she was a fine 
 
 healthy little girl with an equally fine 
 
 healthy appetite. Bread and butter, 
 
 cake, jam sandwiches, and buns all 
 
 disappeared with equal ease, and there 
 
 7— (2319) 
 
98 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 came a time when the rest had finished 
 and she had just one mouthful left. . . . 
 There was a slight pause in the general 
 chatter, and at that unlucky moment the 
 little girl in question gave an unmis- 
 takable hiccough. Many of the children 
 there would have blushed with distress 
 at such an incident, but this little maiden, 
 accustomed to the manners of the 
 servants' hall, looked round with an 
 ingratiating smile and merely remarked 
 — " Copplyments ! " 
 
 Everyone has heard of children who 
 
 have occasionally used " swear words " 
 
 in imitation of their elders, 
 
 Swear Words, and some may possibly have 
 
 heard the true story of a 
 
 little girl who was given a cup of tea to 
 
 hand to a visitor. As she crossed the 
 
 short space with careful footsteps and 
 
 eyes fixed anxiously on her burden she 
 
 was heard to mutter to herself " By 
 
 George, baby, you must be 'teady ! " 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 99 
 
 Examples such as these show the 
 readiness with which children pick up the 
 phraseology of their seniors, and it is a 
 mistake to suppose that, because a child 
 does not exactly understand what is said, 
 therefore no impression is made upon its 
 mind. 
 
 The greater the admiration of a child 
 \ for an older person the greater the desire 
 to imitate it. A small boy 
 ^ Uke'pather! usually considers his father 
 the most wonderful man he 
 knows, and consequently spends a good 
 deal of time and effort in trying to be like 
 him. A little chap of four or five years 
 old will throw himself into a chair and 
 cross his legs in absurd imitation of his 
 father, and nothing seems too small for 
 children to notice and copy. The manner 
 of carrying a stick, the attitude of stand- 
 ing on the hearthrug, the little trick of 
 clearing the throat, will all be reproduced 
 to the life, and it has sometimes been a 
 
100 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 matter of surprise to an onlooker that the 
 mimicry of some small but absurd trick 
 has not been the means of breaking the 
 older person of the habit. 
 
 An excellent example of the desire of 
 a little boy to become like his father was 
 brought to the writer's notice a year or 
 two ago. A small girl, the daughter of 
 very " horsey " parents, was trying to 
 entertain a boy cousin a little younger 
 than herself. After taking him into the 
 stables and showing him the horses, she 
 turned to him and said, '' I daresay, if 
 you are very good, you might be a groom 
 some day." To which came the reply, 
 " No, I shan't ! When I grows up I shall 
 ^ be exactly like father — skin showing 
 through my hair and all ! " 
 
 There will often be a great desire on 
 the part of one parent that a child shall 
 imitate and resemble the other. If this 
 natural wish be carried too far there is 
 a danger lest the individuality of the 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 101 
 
 child be interfered with. It must never 
 be forgotten that no two people can be 
 
 or were meant to be exactly 
 Individuality alike, and that in every 
 Encouraged, child that is born there are 
 
 seeds of good qualities and 
 faculties belonging specially to that child. 
 A slavish copy of anyone else, however 
 worthy, will assuredly tend to choke the 
 growth of these. It would be impossible 
 to compute how many artists with the 
 seeds of greatness within them have been 
 condemned to mediocrity by a life-long 
 endeavour to reproduce the master from 
 whom they have learned, instead of 
 making an endeavour to work out their 
 own salvation. 
 
 So it is with children. Nothing is more 
 sad than to see a child, at an age when 
 
 his or her natural freshness 
 ^"chUd^*^^ and simplicity should be 
 
 most clearly in evidence, 
 already cramped and artificial through an 
 
102 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 effort to copy some older person. A 
 gentleman once took shelter in a house 
 during a heavy storm. The master and 
 mistress were both out, but their little 
 daughter was summoned from her ABC 
 to talk to the unexpected guest. He told 
 her he was sorry to have brought her 
 downstairs, to which came the simpering 
 reply, " Oh ! pray don't mention it ! " 
 Imitatio ad nauseam ! 
 
 One way in which the love of imitation 
 comes out is in the delight all children 
 take in " dressing up," and 
 Dressing Up. in any form of charades or 
 dumb crambo. This is pro- 
 bably a very useful way of developing 
 originality and of setting children's wits 
 to work. Where it is not coupled with 
 the putting on of gorgeous raiment, and 
 is not merely an excuse for " showing 
 off," the very variety of character 
 assumed ensures its being a wholesome 
 exercise. Dumb crambo is especially 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 103 
 
 helpful, for in that pastime there is 
 practically no opportunity for self- 
 glorification, while it tends directly 
 to stimulate the children's 
 Crambo. ingenuity and to kill their 
 
 self-consciousness. 
 
 All observers of child life have noticed 
 
 in some little ones an unhealthy trick of 
 
 making faces, posturing, or 
 
 Posturing. <^therwise trying to attract 
 
 attention. This is unnatural 
 
 and should be carefully watched and 
 
 eradicated. But it should be remembered 
 
 that in most cases of that kind the cause 
 
 is physical — generally a weakness in the 
 
 nervous system — and the child must be 
 
 dealt with most tenderly though firmly. 
 
 On the other hand, many people can 
 
 recall instances where what may be 
 
 described as a true theatrical tendency 
 
 has shown itself in a perfectly healthy 
 
 and charming manner in very young 
 
 children. No better example of this can 
 
104 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 be found than is contained in a little paper 
 lying under the writer's hand. To trans- 
 pose it would be to spoil the vividness of 
 the story, so it is given here just in its 
 original form. 
 
 '* I was more or less of a newcomer in 
 
 our village when I one day received a 
 
 pressing invitation to tea 
 
 ^vfca^rigt^ at the Vicarage. When I 
 arrived I found my hostess, a 
 charming white-haired and white-shawled 
 old lady, in her usual arm-chair by the 
 drawing-room fire, and, seeing the chair 
 on the other side of the hearth empty, 
 I dropped into it with a delicious feeling 
 of comfort after my walk through the chill 
 and gloom of a foggy evening. I had not 
 been many minutes installed when tea 
 was brought in, and the hot cakes which 
 my soul loved were deposited on the httle 
 brass stand inside the fender at my feet. 
 
 " Following fast on the arrival of the 
 tea came the two daughters of the house. 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 105 
 
 who had been busy in various parts of 
 the parish, and were eager to compare 
 notes and exchange the gossip they had 
 gleaned between the gulps of hot tea 
 with which they refreshed the inner 
 woman. 
 
 ''Meantime, I confess to wondering 
 why I had been honoured with an invita- 
 tion which was almost as pressing as a 
 three-line whip. My curiosity was quick- 
 ened by the fact that no sooner had we 
 finished our meal than the tea-table was 
 carried off to a distant part of the room, 
 and a smile and look of enquiry went 
 round, followed by a nod on the part of 
 my hostess, the signal for one of the 
 daughters to run away for a minute or 
 two from the room. There was just that 
 httle silence which precedes an ' event,' 
 and then she returned to be greeted by 
 'Well?' 'AH right,' she replied, and 
 silence fell on us again, to be broken 
 almost immediately by a tap at the door, 
 
106 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 a tap that would never have been heard 
 had it not been for our stillness of expec- 
 tation. The elder and more impetuous 
 of the daughters made a rush from her 
 chair but was called back, and then in 
 a moment I knew why I had been asked. 
 From behind the high screen just inside 
 the door there peeped a baby face ! 
 And such a baby face ! Roguishness, 
 bashfulness, mirth, and indecision were 
 mingled in the little dimpling face and 
 twinkling blue eyes. 
 
 " There was a shake of golden curls — 
 
 no, not quite curls, and yet nothing else 
 
 expresses the tangle of light 
 
 ^of^B^b*^^ that formed a background to 
 that beauty of two summers 
 — and then the vision disappeared. Shy- 
 ness had won a momentary victory, but 
 was routed on a friendly hand being held 
 out round the screen to encourage the 
 merry mischief that was never far to seek 
 in her to assert itself. 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 107 
 
 " A little shriek of pleasure, and she 
 had run into the middle of the room 
 towards granny's chair, but stopped short 
 just where the circle of light from a reading 
 lamp fell upon her. I shall not soon 
 forget the picture. I had never seen her 
 before, and, coming upon me in this 
 unexpected way with her brightness and 
 her beauty and her marvellous expression, 
 she made an impression out of all 
 proportion to her years. 
 
 " It was, I fear, the sight of me that 
 caused her to stop so suddenly in her run 
 to the loving arms that were stretched out 
 for her. 
 
 " Neither she nor I had been prepared 
 for the sight of the other, and a strange 
 and bearded man may well alarm a little 
 lady of two. 
 
 " There was, no doubt, at first a distinct 
 look of alarm, but she rose to the occasion. 
 It might no doubt be possible to overawe 
 this new and ferocious-looking being : 
 
108 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 at all events it would be well to try, 
 or he might perhaps be open to a joke 
 
 and be propitiated in that 
 Ac^esjf ^^y ' Some such thoughts 
 
 were evidently in her mind, 
 for first of all she stared at me with a 
 frown, then made a deliciously dignified 
 bow towards me, and then, almost before 
 the bow was finished, stooped down, and 
 drew her frock round her feet, saying, 
 ' Baby dot no legs ! ' going off into a fit 
 of decidedly forced laughter by way of 
 carrying off her joke, should I prove too 
 dense to see it. 
 
 '* Well, it served her purpose : it was 
 a kind of introduction, and it enabled her 
 to get over the awkward moments of her 
 first shyness and to reach the haven of 
 granny's chair. We were soon firm friends 
 after that. I happened to have a watch 
 * like daddy's,' which was an assurance 
 of my respectability, and I openly and 
 fervently admired a certain pair of 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 109 
 
 little red shoes, and what lady can 
 resist a well-timed compliment on her 
 turn-out ? 
 
 " After a short time spent in such polite 
 conversation, it suddenly occurred to the 
 little fairy that she was not doing her 
 proper share towards entertaining the 
 company. A little wriggle freed her from 
 any restraining hands or inconvenient 
 people, and she ran to the far end of the 
 room. From this vantage ground she 
 ran forward from time to time into the 
 better-lit part at our end with all the 
 anxiety to be well received of a born 
 actress. The first ' act ' consisted in her 
 picking up her tiny skirts and walking on 
 her toes, saying ' Muddy, muddy ! Baby's 
 feet wet ! ' Then with a shriek of delight 
 she rushed off, to come back the next 
 minute waving her hands over her head 
 and gazing solemnly upwards, saying, 
 * Wind b'owing ! Clouds and wind ! 
 Baby's f 'ightened ! ' But this only lasted 
 
110 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 for a minute before she dashed off and 
 returned declaring that she was another 
 child, a little girl she had not seen more 
 than once or twice, but whom she 
 evidently desired to imitate. 
 
 "It is impossible to describe the effect 
 produced upon me by this extraordinary 
 performance by so young a child. Her 
 rapid change of mood bewildered me : 
 the mischievous laughter of one moment 
 was so quickly followed by a look of 
 wonder or terror or sadness, to be suc- 
 ceeded in its turn by a sudden scream 
 of delight, that I felt as if I were watching 
 something not altogether canny. It was 
 really almost a relief when at last she 
 buried her face in a friendly lap and cried 
 for bed and * nanna.' 
 
 " Even then the rapid change of mood 
 
 was not all over, for in the midst of her 
 
 tears she was gathered into 
 
 nurse's comfortable arms, 
 
 and as she left the room a decidedly 
 
THE CHILD'S IMITATION 111 
 
 pert little voice was heard to say, 
 ' Baby did c'y ! ' 
 
 " So I found out why my friends at the 
 Vicarage, who knew my weakness for 
 children, had asked me to tea, but I have 
 never been able to analyse the exact 
 impression left on my mind beyond that of 
 a lovely and excited baby." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS PLEASURES 
 
 What a happiness it is that in the 
 
 memories of most people the joys of 
 
 childhood so far exceed its 
 
 Happiness. S^iefs. Two of the most 
 powerful agents for good in 
 the life of a child are love and happiness, 
 and it may be confidently assumed that 
 where there is an abundance of the 
 former the existence of the latter is 
 assured. 
 
 It may happily be asserted that it has 
 been the sad lot of few of those who read 
 these lines to have known an unloved 
 childhood. To this may be ascribed 
 the happy recollections of most who 
 look back upon their earliest years. 
 
 But in this chapter some attempt will 
 be made to examine certain special 
 
 112 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 113 
 
 pleasures rather than to generalise as to 
 the atmosphere of happiness in which 
 alone a child will really thrive. 
 
 While happiness is necessary for all 
 
 children, those who have most closely 
 
 studied child life will agree 
 
 homines tot sent entice " may 
 well be applied to the great variety of 
 ways in which this happiness is sought. 
 It is impossible to treat all children alike, 
 or to lay down any general rule. A little 
 girl will find her chief dehght in dogs and 
 horses, while Iier brother steals away to 
 play with dolls. Two small boys will go 
 out into the garden, and, while one is keen 
 to learn any sort of manly game, the other 
 stands about cold and listless, bored to 
 death by the mere sight of bat or 
 ball. 
 
 Nothing is less hkely to produce happi- 
 ness than to attempt to force little children 
 to amuse themselves in any set way. 
 
 8— (2319) 
 
114 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 How many people have been disappointed 
 
 by their efforts in this direction ! A 
 
 ''recreation *' ground has per- 
 
 Faiiure of ];japs \)qqxi provided by some 
 
 Compulsory r ir 
 
 Pleasures, charitable person at great 
 expense. Ten to one it will 
 be deserted by the little ones for whom it 
 was primarily intended and given over to 
 the tender mercies of lads and lasses in 
 their *' teens." The small children find 
 nothing left to their imagination, and 
 infinitely prefer some dirty, and, to adult 
 eyes, disadvantageous corner. 
 
 There was just such a case in a large 
 northern town. The recreation ground was 
 opened with pomp, and was elaborately 
 fitted with swings, parallel bars, etc. For 
 a week or two a few children made efforts 
 to amuse themselves there, but it was 
 quickly deserted. In the immediate 
 neighbourhood were sundry patches of 
 ground where no houses had as yet 
 been built, and on which lay fascinating 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 115 
 
 heaps of brick bats and refuse. Needless 
 to say these offered far greater attractions 
 than the new and orderly playground. 
 Small children do not care to play " to 
 order.*' They have enough of that during 
 school hours. When they get a bit older 
 they will be willing enough to join in 
 games on specified grounds and governed 
 by codes of rules, but while they are little 
 they like to find their own playgrounds 
 and invent their own games. 
 
 Memory brings a vision of two children, 
 one a little girl with soft dark hair and 
 big black eyes, who is dressed 
 ^s?a^ck\rd ^ ii^ ^ blue and white cotton 
 frock, and a big white straw 
 hat ; the other a sturdy, but common- 
 place boy, in grey knickerbockers, a 
 hoUand blouse, with a broad black leather 
 belt, and a flannel cap. They are about 
 the same age, neither of them being yet 
 seven, and they are playing in a stack- 
 yard. It is not the stacks that are the 
 
116 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 attraction, for just now there are none 
 there, but for all that it is a glorious play- 
 ground. In the first place, it is well out 
 of the way of the grown-up people, and 
 in the next place, though there are no 
 stacks, there are the stone supports on 
 which they once stood. What excellent 
 tables they make, these old grey upright 
 blocks, of which the flat round tops 
 project like real tables, and are practically 
 useful in preventing rats and mice from 
 climbing up. But there is something else 
 which has drawn the children to that spot, 
 for all about in the yard there is to be 
 found a tall plant with a quantity of red 
 seed, which must, I fancy, be some kind of 
 sorrel. It is delicious to draw your hand 
 up the stalk and bring it away full of this 
 seed, and that is what these children are 
 busy doing. 
 
 Next they put it in a heap on a slate 
 which they have discovered, and then 
 search for pieces of brick and fiat stone, 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 117 
 
 which are piled on the top. In this way a 
 certain quantity of the seed is compressed, 
 and called a cheese, which is deposited with 
 ceremony upon one of the stone tables. 
 
 The little girl has been the leader 
 throughout ; she has decided which 
 plants were ripe enough to be stripped, 
 how much seed was necessary to form a 
 cheese, and upon which of the stones the 
 feast should be spread. The boy has been 
 her obedient servant, a position of things 
 which reaches its climax when the little 
 lady suddenly states that she doesn't like 
 cheese, and orders him to eat it all up ! 
 
 This is a vision that has come from time 
 to time for more than forty years, and 
 few playgrounds have seemed so attractive. 
 
 Then there is the old tree of the garden. 
 
 Who does not^ love the memory of the 
 
 games played beneath it, and 
 
 In'ti^VrZ. the seats it afforded among 
 
 its boughs ? Maybe it was a 
 
 mulberry, or merely an ancient laurel. 
 
118 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Playgrounds may be found in and under 
 both. In another case it was a mighty 
 yew, noted in the annals of the county. 
 A few feet up upon its massive stem, the 
 children had special seats, and woe betide 
 intruders caught trespassing ! Beneath it 
 was a long bench, of which the supports 
 were obviously at one time a part of one 
 of the great boughs, while the seat had 
 in the distant ages been green. 
 
 What feasts were spread upon this seat 
 
 — what shops were kept with this for the 
 
 counter ! There is a dust 
 
 ^^ Shop. ^^ ^^^^ *^^^s beneath old yews, 
 and consists of the dead and 
 crumbled petals. What splendid stuff it 
 is to play with ! It can be sold as snuff, 
 or almost anything, and it pours out of a 
 teapot as easily as water. But there is 
 no need to say more ; everyone can 
 remember the invented games, and the 
 best-loved haunts of their childhood. 
 
 One more playground of a thoroughly 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 119 
 
 unconventional character may well be 
 
 mentioned here. It is just where the base 
 
 of one of the Whitby piers 
 
 A Whitby , , . . 
 
 Playground, starts from the end of a narrow 
 
 street or passage. The huge 
 
 stones worn and rounded at their edge 
 
 make a couple of steps down to the 
 
 water's edge, but steps so big that, if you 
 
 are still a small boy, they compel you to 
 
 sit down and slide and scramble, holding 
 
 on as best you may, till you have reached 
 
 the bottom. It is great fun to watch 
 
 the children descending by their various 
 
 methods. Big boys (and girls too) manage 
 
 it easily, laughing and shouting as they 
 
 bump their way down. But with the 
 
 little ones it is different. A girl arrives, 
 
 with a baby wrapped up in a shawl ; this 
 
 requires management : baby is set down 
 
 on the top step, and told to stay quite 
 
 still, then away slides the small nurse 
 
 on to the intermediate resting-place some 
 
 three or four feet below ; then a pair of 
 
120 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 arms are stretched up, and baby struggles 
 into them with a chuckle of satisfaction, 
 and is once more deposited, while the 
 elder sister springs down on to the soft 
 wet sand, and next minute baby, too, is 
 safe in the desired corner. This is what 
 it practically is, this desirable playground, 
 just a corner in the harbour laid bare at 
 low tide, and having the pier on its one 
 side, and the walls of the old town on the 
 other. How lovely those old walls were ! 
 Looking right up one sees the ends pro- 
 jecting above the gables of red-tiled roofs, 
 while below are the grey walls — no, not 
 grey, though many seem so at first sight, 
 but yellow, blue, red, green — every colour, 
 in fact, that stones will take, when long 
 exposed to sea and weather. Then at the 
 bottom just above the sand runs a long 
 wide course of stones that are covered 
 by every tide, and have in consequence 
 become clothed with a fringe of brown 
 and green and golden seaweed. 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 121 
 
 There are small windows here and there, 
 high up in the walls, and now and again 
 a sheet or a towel is hung out to dry, a 
 picturesque object enough against a mass 
 of building ; and from above the wall of 
 a yard a number of poles, leaning in the 
 corner, project and break the monotony 
 of the surface. 
 
 It lies right inside the harbour, and 
 every time the tide goes down it leaves 
 a certain quantity of semi-decomposed 
 objects to scent the atmosphere of this 
 special spot. 
 
 Then again, what is far worse, there are 
 small square openings here and there in 
 the wall and from these there trickle 
 continuously the contents of many wash- 
 tubs and slop-pails. Yet here it is that 
 a group of children come whenever the 
 tide allows, to play their quiet games — 
 quiet, for they never run about or make 
 much noise, but seem happiest crawling 
 on hands and knees, or squatting in a 
 
122 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 circle and playing with the garbage and 
 refuse which has stranded there. 
 
 This is doubtless the attraction ; the 
 
 beauties of the scene evidently never occur 
 
 to them at all, the evil 
 
 ^Trote'^ smells affect them not. But 
 there are new playthings 
 there continually. As the water recedes 
 fresh treasures day by day are left upon 
 the shiny floor — half sand, half mud — of 
 their playground. What opportunities 
 for their invention and imagination ! 
 Yesterday there were two small dead 
 crabs, a broken saucer, and an empty 
 sardine box ; to-day's chief items are the 
 wicker end of a worn-out lobster-pot, 
 a bit of rope, and a whole quantity of 
 mussel shells which have been thrown 
 away after the baiting of a long line. 
 What endless games are played with these 
 materials ! First of all the shells are 
 pushed into the sand squares, making 
 little gardens, which are duly furnished 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 123 
 
 with bits of green seaweed. To them 
 comes a small market woman carrying the 
 fragment of wicker-work in which she 
 places the green stuff she purchases and 
 pays for with pebbles, the bit of rope 
 being used to sling the laden basket on her 
 bent back, as she walks off to market 
 under the heavy load. 
 
 Then the shells are hurriedly gathered 
 up, and baby is established with her back 
 against the wall, and in 
 ^"""of ^Shop.""^ front of her the total accu- 
 mulation of odds and ends 
 is arranged in lots, each one marked off 
 by a line drawn in the sand, and then the 
 children come to buy at baby's shop — 
 a matter of huge delight to the shopkeeper, 
 who distributes her goods rashly and 
 impulsively, and is evidently bored at 
 being made to receive payment ! 
 
 But an end comes at last : a voice is 
 heard shouting, baby is lifted up on to 
 the first step again, and all the little bare 
 
124 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 legs and ruddy feet go scampering off to 
 tea! 
 
 It would be easy enough to give many 
 
 more examples than these two or three, 
 
 but they will be sufficient to 
 
 Playing at illustrate the preference of 
 
 Being \ ^ 
 
 Grown Up. little children of all and 
 every class for unconven- 
 tional playgrounds and games proceeding 
 from their own vivid imaginations. Ima- 
 gination supplies the keynote to so many 
 of the pleasures of children. How 
 greatly, for instance, they delight in 
 playing at being grown up ! Nothing 
 gives them keener pleasure than being 
 treated like their elders. It is partly the 
 importance of it, but largely also the 
 exercise of imagination and an appre- 
 ciation (duly suppressed) of the fun of the 
 situation. 
 
 A few years ago it fell to the lot of the 
 writer to witness the joys of two very 
 small people who came by themselves (oh ! 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 125 
 
 the importance of it) upon a regular 
 visit. 
 
 They were some six and seven years old, 
 and a most reserved and old-fashioned 
 little couple in their ways. 
 TwrchiW^e'S. The elder, Reggie, was singu- 
 larly quiet and thoughtful. 
 His face, of considerable beauty of feature, 
 with large grey eyes, wore ordinarily an 
 expression of solemnity, if not of melan- 
 choly, and it required an intimacy of some 
 considerable standing to obtain more 
 than monosyllabic replies in his high but 
 very gentle voice. 
 
 His companion was a little sister 
 properly called Marjorie, but who had 
 hardly yet outgrown " Baby." Such an 
 upright, delicate dimpled, flower of a child, 
 with the same big eyes and curling lashes 
 as her brother, but with a reserve far 
 more easily overcome, and a much greater 
 readiness to break into smiles or even 
 indulge in romps. She completely 
 
126 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 " mothered " Reggie, and her anxiety 
 that he should do the right thing, and 
 her Uttle quick orders to him, were most 
 amusing. 
 
 Their hostess met them a few days 
 before their visit, and their excitement 
 about it all was intense. 
 
 " What luggage shall you bring ? " 
 
 " Oh ! just a hat-box or two ! " 
 
 *' It's all arranged about our visit to you 
 I do so love arranging things. Couldn't 
 we have some more arrangements ? '* 
 
 This, of course, Baby. So every conceiv- 
 able thing was " arranged," and every 
 minute of the two days planned out. 
 Their hostess told them she should expect 
 them to bring lots of things in their 
 luggage. 
 
 *' Oh ! " said Baby, " I shall bring my 
 tea -gown. And what shall yoti 
 wear ? " 
 
 The day arrived, and they were met at 
 the station. 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 127 
 
 *' Well, what luggage have you 
 brought ? '' 
 
 " Twelve hat-boxes," promptly repHed 
 Reggie with a flicker of humour just 
 lighting up his face. One turned up, and 
 was found to contain the entire clothing, 
 etc., of the pair. This vast piece of 
 luggage was put in Baby's room, and then 
 came the request that they might be 
 allowed to unpack for themselves. Reggie 
 was quickly hurried into his own room 
 with his tiny pile of belongings, and then 
 Baby began to unpack hers. She was 
 shown a large wardrobe, as well as a good- 
 sized chest of drawers, and evidently felt 
 that it would be infra dig, not to use them 
 both, so, after putting one wee garment 
 in one drawer and one in another till each 
 held something, she gravely took the 
 little bag which held her shoes and hung 
 it up in solitary grandeur in the wardrobe ! 
 
 The extreme politeness and considera- 
 tion of these little visitors were continually 
 
128 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 coming out. Baby was asked whether 
 she would Hke a room to herself or a sofa 
 in her hostess's room. 
 
 " You see, Aunt E., I don't know what 
 to say," was the reply. On being pressed 
 further, she said, " Well, I was thinking 
 about the beds ! It seems a good deal of 
 trouble just for us. You see, they are big 
 beds." 
 
 Reggie, too, was just as anxious to 
 consider others. " If it isn't too much 
 trouble," he said, on being asked whether 
 something should be brought him. '' I'm 
 afraid when we are gone you will say 
 ' bother those troublesome children ' ! " 
 
 He was just as attentive, too, to his 
 sister, buttoning her little petticoat for 
 her and anything she couldn't manage 
 for herself. 
 
 The whole of the proceedings described 
 so far were practically part of a charade 
 or play. The children were for these 
 two days grown-up people, and being 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 129 
 
 endowed with an extra allowance of 
 imagination, played their part in every 
 detail. 
 
 Not that they could keep it up quite 
 all the time ! There were games at hide- 
 and-seek that entirely dispelled illusion 
 for a while. Then there were visits to the 
 poultry yard and animals, when it was 
 impossible to put such restraint upon one's 
 feelings of surprise and delight as to 
 appear properly blas6 and grown up. 
 For instance, when Baby suddenly dis- 
 covered a large field-spider, there was a 
 scream of astonishment as she exclaimed, 
 *' Oh, Aunt E., here's a thing with a lot 
 of legs and a dot in the miggle ! " And 
 again, in the poultry yard, it was scarcely 
 in keeping with the part of a lady who 
 had arrived at years of discretion to say, 
 " How I should Hke to lay in those nice 
 lickle nests ! " 
 
 But on the whole these two little people 
 carried out their intention of paying a 
 
 9--(23T9) 
 
130 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 real grown-up visit with perfect success 
 up to the very moment when they were 
 
 once more in the train by 
 '^\eavt^'' themselves on their return 
 
 journey of some six miles, 
 each one grasping firmly their half-ticket, 
 and the last ghmpse we had was of Reggie 
 gravely lifting his little straw hat, as the 
 train steamed out of the station. There 
 is all the difference in the world between 
 this sort of playing at being grown up, and 
 the assumption of airs and graces which 
 some children display. The one is real 
 pleasure, the other the merest mockery. 
 Children who are no sooner out of the 
 nursery than they ape their elders in an 
 insatiable desire for a succession of smart 
 clothes and evening parties are seldom 
 happy children. Those who care for their 
 little ones and want to fill their early 
 years with real pleasures will take care 
 to avoid the causes which produce children 
 such as these. 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 131 
 
 It may perhaps be said that the main 
 factors are two. 
 
 If children be allowed to absorb the 
 
 spirit that is pervading the world at the 
 
 present day — the spirit of 
 
 Modern revolt against all authority, 
 
 Authority, the notion, that is, that 
 
 everyone is to do exactly 
 
 as he or she chooses — that will of itself 
 
 bring about a state of mind which is 
 
 destructive of real happiness. Notions 
 
 such as these are quickly picked up, and 
 
 parents who themselves set all rules and 
 
 authority at defiance cannot expect their 
 
 children to submit to control. 
 
 Then there is a second cause which is 
 
 too often at work, and which does a great 
 
 deal towards turning some 
 
 Self-Conscious children into disagreeable 
 
 Jealous " 
 
 Children. and discontented young folk. 
 
 When people are continually 
 
 trying to emulate if not excel their 
 
 neighbours in appearance and in the 
 
132 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 entertainments they provide, children are 
 quick enough to take their cue from what 
 they see and overhear, with the result 
 that they are miserable if they think their 
 frocks are less fashionable than their 
 neighbours', and are rude and disconten- 
 ted if at one party they do not get as 
 handsome presents as at some other. 
 
 This is all wrong, and distinctly dimin- 
 ishes the pleasure that these children 
 might otherwise enjoy. 
 
 It would without doubt add enor- 
 mously to the real happiness of children 
 if a league could be formed 
 
 o^s^mpieJ ^f ^11 parents who should be 
 
 ^pLn^ies.' ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ children's 
 parties within certain speci- 
 fied bounds of simplicity and within 
 certain reasonably early hours. 
 
 But this is by the way. It is pleasanter 
 to turn for another minute or two to speak 
 of the pleasures childlike children find in 
 the simple joys that lie around their path. 
 
THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 133 
 
 There can be no doubt that the more 
 
 natural the employment or amusement 
 
 the greater the pleasure. A 
 
 Natural little girl is given a tiny 
 
 fhe^Most dustpan and allowed to 
 
 Enjoyed, sweep the carpet, or she has 
 
 a drawer full of odds and 
 
 ends and is asked to sort and arrange 
 
 them. She will spend an entire morning 
 
 in such an occupation with the keenest 
 
 pleasure, and if anyone who has watched 
 
 her should also see her when dressed up 
 
 at some " smart *' party that same evening 
 
 there would be no doubt in the mind of 
 
 the onlooker as to which brought most 
 
 real happiness to the child. 
 
 One of the greatest dehghts that can be 
 afforded to children must come in for a 
 word of mention. Who does 
 Story-telling, not remember the story- 
 teller of his or her childhood ?. 
 Perhaps it was *' father," who when he 
 came in at tea time would let the whole 
 
134 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 family swarm on and about his arm-chair, 
 and would tell another bit of the thrilling 
 tale which he always broke off each 
 evening at the very most exciting point. 
 Or sometimes it would be one of the bigger 
 children, gifted with an extraordinary 
 power of calling up robbers and demons, 
 who enthralled an audience by the nar- 
 ration of horrors which stimulated their 
 imagination and made them feel deli- 
 ciously " creepy." No such things as 
 *' chestnuts " exist for children. The 
 oftener the story has been told the better 
 they like it, and never hesitate to choose 
 an old favourite before a brand new tale. 
 But this chapter is already becoming 
 too long. It would be easy to enumerate 
 numberless simple amusements which 
 bring real pleasure to children. But the 
 same moral can be drawn in every case. 
 The simpler and more natural the occu- 
 pation the greater the pleasure. Do not 
 all children revel in playing with the earth 
 
r*' 
 
 THE CHILD'S PLEASURES 135 
 
 and water that lie about their feet ? 
 Whether they are the lucky ones who can 
 build sand castles and let the sea-water 
 fill the moats, or whether they can only 
 play in the gutter by their door, they are 
 ten times happier in such pleasures as 
 these than in any grander or more 
 elaborate amusements. To the recogni- 
 tion of this fact those who plan children's 
 pleasures will owe their chief success. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE CHILD — ITS PATHOS 
 
 Just as there is no summer without its 
 cool grey days, so among the sunn}^ 
 crowd of children about our path there is 
 here and there a child who seems to live 
 beneath a shadow. 
 
 Just, too, as the tender colouring of the 
 grey landscape has a special charm which 
 
 only needs the seeking, so 
 CWidren. these quiet little ones amply 
 
 repay the observation of 
 
 those who do not let them steal away and 
 
 escape notice as they always wish to do. 
 
 No one who cares for children can have 
 
 failed to have come in contact with some 
 
 who are silent when their comrades shout, 
 
 grave when the rest are laughing, and 
 
 look wistfully on when games are in 
 
 progress. 
 
 136 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 137 
 
 They are, possibly, well enough liked 
 by the rest, but somehow they are 
 different, and because of this difference 
 go their own way to which the others have 
 become accustomed. 
 
 There are, of course, sometimes obvious 
 reasons. In the greater number of cases 
 
 the child's health — or want 
 ft/orfference. ^^ health-accounts for the 
 
 separateness of its life and 
 pursuits. Sometimes, it may be feared 
 that harsh surroundings in its home have 
 crushed the spirit out of it and made it 
 timid and suspicious. But sometimes it 
 is a mere question of temperament. The 
 child has, perhaps, inherited some queer 
 strain of sentimental self-consciousness, 
 or some nervous dread of publicity, which 
 causes it to be like the famous parrot 
 which said little but thought a lot — a 
 condition of things exactly the reverse 
 of what may usually be found in a 
 thoroughly healthy-minded child. But, 
 
138 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 whatever the cause, it is for the most 
 part true that it is well worth while to 
 lay siege to the affections of such a child, 
 and try to establish confidential relations. 
 The result of a habit of thoughtfulness 
 
 and of a life a little lonelier 
 ChUdfen, ^^^^ ^hat of others will 
 
 generally tend to the laying 
 up a store of quaint fancies and imaginings 
 about the objects of everyday life, as well 
 as often developing a sympathy which 
 the lonely child has no wish and few 
 chances to exhibit. These things are 
 well worth bringing to the light by anyone 
 who is sufficiently persevering to win the 
 affection and confidence of the little one. 
 Such children are not averse to all 
 companionship, but are terribly afraid of 
 anyone who does not understand. They 
 have often enough been laughed at, and 
 they keep their thoughts and interests 
 carefully hidden from all who cannot be 
 absolutely trusted, and it is so very few 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 139 
 
 indeed whom they discover to belong to 
 this category. Once, however, they are 
 perfectly sure of anyone, they will lead 
 them to their secret haunts in field or 
 garden, will confide to them their dread 
 of certain places and people, and finally 
 will allow their most cherished wishes to 
 escape them. In almost all cases the 
 great desire of such children is for some- 
 thing to love, or for somebody in whose 
 affections they may be first. 
 
 In this connection it is curious to notice 
 
 how early the natural bent of a child will 
 
 show itself. This is espe- 
 
 ^^%^atural ^j^^y ^^e case with girls 
 
 whose mothering propensity 
 comes out at a very tender age. A 
 wistful little maiden who always seemed 
 to want something more than satisfied 
 her more boisterous companions had slid 
 her hand into that of a grown-up friend 
 in whom she had learnt to confide, and 
 who was trying to amuse her by telling 
 
140 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 her about a litter of puppies which had 
 
 been born to a retriever called Topsy. 
 
 Looking down, the lady saw that the 
 
 child's face had grown serious even to 
 
 sadness, which was accounted for by the 
 
 conversation that followed. 
 Not a^Mother cc jj^^ ^j^ -^ j^^^^ p „ ^^j^ 
 
 the nttle girl. " I think she 
 is four," was the answer. At once the 
 child's eyes filled with tears as she sighed, 
 "And I am six and I'm not a mother yet ! " 
 With boys it will generally be found 
 that, if they have taken to solitary ways, 
 
 and belong to the class of 
 Se^ets^ children who are pathetically 
 
 different to the rest, they 
 have some bent, some special interest, 
 which they keep carefully to themselves 
 until a really sympathetic friend wins 
 their secret from them. Not infrequently 
 it is a hiding-place inside a bush or in 
 some corner of the garden where rubbish 
 has been thro^\^l and where the small boy 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 141 
 
 has made himself a '* house '* with pieces 
 of an old packing case and any other 
 oddments that have come to hand. 
 Sometimes it is an animal of which he has 
 found the home and with which he spends 
 most of his spare time. A toad in a hole 
 
 in a wall was for a long time 
 The Toad, the secret joy of a very 
 
 small boy until his little 
 sister confided to him that she had got a 
 toad in a hole close by, which on exam- 
 ination proved to be the same animal 
 which had two outlets to its abode ! The 
 boy's secret being thus discovered all his 
 pleasure was gone, and he at once deserted 
 his pet. 
 
 The present writer happened once to 
 pay a visit to some friends who had a 
 
 little son of about three or 
 '^^*' Frogs^r"^ four years old. This little 
 
 fellow used often to dis- 
 appear in the garden, and was evidently 
 in enjoyment of some secret which he was 
 
142 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 too shy to impart to anyone. After a few 
 days his confidence was gained, and he led 
 off his new friend to a spot where there 
 was a muddy httle pool about two feet 
 in diameter. On the edge of this were 
 two frogs which he had found dead, and 
 had brought here hoping that they would 
 revive. They had been dead for some 
 time and were anything but sweet, but 
 he stroked them and looked up in the 
 most wistful way to see whether his pets 
 were properly appreciated. It was really 
 pathetic to see his eyes fill with tears 
 when he was told that they were quite, 
 quite dead, and must be buried without 
 further delay. 
 
 Sometimes, of course, the pathos in a 
 child is accounted for by some physical 
 infirmity which separates him or her 
 from the rest. Here is an instance. 
 
 A painter had one day set up his 
 umbrella and easel close to a little hamlet, 
 and when school was over there was 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 143 
 
 the usual rush of the children to look at 
 '' the man " and see what he was doing. 
 Hating solitude and delight- 
 Children ing in children, he faced 
 Painter Man. quickly round upon his stool 
 and gave them a nod of 
 welcome. " Come to see what sort of a 
 picture I'm making, eh ? " was his greeting. 
 "Yezzur," was the reply in the broad 
 dialect of the district. " Well, now, 
 what do you think of it ? " he asked, 
 as he held it up for them to see. At 
 first there is only much drawing in of 
 breath and many an '' Oh ! " as they 
 look at what seems to them at first 
 sight a meaningless kaleidoscope of 
 colours. At last one makes out one 
 thing and one another in the unfinished 
 drawing. " There's the tree, look ! " 
 " See the blue sky ! " "I can see 
 William Timms's house, / can ! " And 
 so on for some minutes until almost every 
 part of the picture had been properly 
 
144 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 identified. Just then a shout from one 
 or two women proclaimed the fact that 
 those who wanted any dinner had better 
 make haste and get it while they had a 
 chance. This gave ** the man " a few 
 quiet minutes during which he ate his own 
 sandwiches, but before he had swallowed 
 the last mouthful the troop of children 
 was back again to see all that might be 
 seen before the school bell rang. 
 
 It was during these last few minutes 
 that the painter noticed a boy whom 
 
 he had not seen among the 
 Jacob. others before. He was a 
 
 little chap — not more than 
 six or seven years old — with soft fair hair 
 and a pink and white complexion. Two 
 things attracted his attention to the boy. 
 One was the extreme neatness and clean- 
 ness of his dress. His clothes were not 
 of better material than those of the other 
 boys, but they were so very tidy. His 
 collar, too, was spotlessly white, and his 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 145 
 
 hair glossy and unruffled. The other 
 thing about him which seemed ^ecuHar 
 was the amount of deference and con- 
 sideration that was shown him by the 
 rest. He was given a good place close 
 behind " the man's " elbow, and once or 
 twice, when there was some pushing, one 
 of the children called out, *' Now, then, 
 keep quiet, can't you ? Don't you see 
 you're shovin' against Jacob Joyce ? " 
 
 Now and then, too, there would be a 
 curious sort of appeal to the little fellow : 
 someone would say, '* Isn't it lovely, 
 Jacob ? There's red and blue and all 
 manner of colours ? " And Jacob would 
 solemnly answer " I likes yed ! " Then a 
 whisper would go round, " Hearken to 
 him ; he likes red, Jacob does." 
 
 And all the while to the painter as he 
 worked away there seemed something odd 
 about the boy, and something unusual 
 if not uncanny in the way in which the 
 others treated him. 
 
 xo— (2319) 
 
146 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 At last the school bell rang, and all but 
 three of the children rushed off helter 
 skelter to their lessons. The three who 
 stayed behind were a big girl of twelve 
 who was looking after a baby sister, and 
 Jacob Joyce. 
 
 The picture was nearing completion. 
 That most absorbing half-hour had 
 arrived when just a little deepening of a 
 shadow here, and the wiping out of a curl 
 of smoke there, made all the difference, 
 and the painter was wrapped up in his 
 work, and scarcely noticed the three 
 children. 
 
 The elder girl was busy plaiting grasses, 
 
 and the baby had crawled nearer and 
 
 nearer to the easel until a 
 
 Jacob Sings, paint brush suddenly shaken 
 out sprinkled her little face 
 and she set up a dismal cry. In vain the 
 sister hushed and rocked her. Nothing 
 seemed of any use until the girl said, 
 " Shall Jacob sing to baby ? " Then the 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 147 
 
 sobs were instantly quieted, and from 
 close behind him the painter heard a 
 strangely sweet voice begin clear and true 
 ''Once in 'oyal David's City." Right 
 through the dear old children's hymn the 
 singer went, and long before the end 
 each of the three listeners were enthralled 
 by the melody. 
 
 Leaning a little backwards the big 
 grown man, whose thoughts had gone back 
 to the days when he, too, sang carols, 
 stretched out a hand to caress the little 
 singer who edged himself along the grass 
 till he was able to rest his head against the 
 painter's knee. So they stayed quietly 
 for a time, a detail being now and then 
 added to the picture, while a Uttle hand 
 crept up every few minutes to touch the 
 coat or stroke the knee of the boy's 
 new-found friend. 
 
 So the other children found them when 
 they came back from school. Now the 
 picture was more easily understood 
 
148 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 and far more to their liking, but in all 
 their anxiety to see, no one pushed in front 
 
 of little Jacob. '' Bootiful 
 ''^Blhir^' picture," he said, and all 
 
 of them echoed his words. 
 '' I can't do a picture," he added, and the 
 other children said not a word. " No," 
 said the painter, '* but Jacob can make 
 beautiful music," and stooping down he 
 lifted the little fellow on to his knee. 
 Then for the first time he understood. 
 Jacob Joyce was blind. 
 
 Although children frequently fail to 
 realise the great shadows which from time 
 
 to time darken the lives of 
 
 A Child's their elders, yet sometimes 
 
 Perception -^ 
 
 of Sorrow, a perception of a great sor- 
 row will force its way to the 
 mind of a child, and nothing more pathetic 
 can be witnessed than the dumb per- 
 plexity with which a child faces such 
 trouble. There is something in it that 
 reminds one of the wistful expression in 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 149 
 
 the face of a favourite dog when it is 
 restlessly wandering about a house watch- 
 ing the preparations for its master's 
 departure, or has incurred a measure of 
 chastisement for an offence that it does 
 not understand. 
 
 Two little boys lived at a small farm- 
 house on the outskirts of a Cotswold 
 village. One evening the 
 
 ery'^sBfue. S^ey homestead with its 
 deep stone-slatted roof was 
 all aglow in the sunset, the latticed win- 
 dows blazing like so many separate suns, 
 while beneath them chrysanthemums — 
 yellow, red, and white-— added their 
 brilliance to the picture. Close by an 
 immense elm tree shone in the golden 
 glory of its autumn robe. Beneath it on 
 an old dry wall the two little boys were 
 perched just where some of the stones 
 had been knocked away. One was sitting 
 astride, the other faced the road with his 
 two little brown legs dangling side by side. 
 
150 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 The boys seemed much the same age, 
 and to the eyes of a lady who was passing 
 by very much aUke, but this was no doubt 
 owing to the fact that they were each 
 dressed in a blue blouse and each had a 
 little blue flannel cap on the top of a 
 cluster of fair curls. 
 
 It was not long before the lady had 
 made friends with the little chaps, and she 
 always kept an eye on the watch for the 
 blue blouses when she was walking in the 
 fields or lanes near the farm. It was 
 soon obvious that one was not only deci- 
 dedly the elder of the two, but leader, 
 protector, champion, and hero of his 
 little brother. The devotion of the 
 younger child was touching. If he were 
 asked a question he mutely referred it to 
 the other. If he were given anything he 
 never failed to see whether it would be 
 acceptable in the eyes of the superior 
 being whom he worshipped. The two 
 little boys blue were inseparable, and 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 151 
 
 were bound by the best of all ties in which 
 each needs something that the other has 
 to give. 
 
 There came a day when the lady, who 
 had taken the pair of them into her 
 affections, went away from home. She 
 
 did not return for several 
 ^lUe r weeks, and when she did so 
 
 she determined to walk the 
 mile and a half from the station to the 
 village to enjoy the freshness of the 
 country air after that of a stuffy railway 
 carriage. Her shortest way was by a 
 footpath which led through the fields at 
 the back of the farmhouse. Near the 
 stack-yard was a bit of grass ground, 
 once an orchard, where a few old apple 
 trees were still standing. Here the clothes 
 lines were accustomed to be stretched 
 between two or three sloping posts. Here 
 she had often noticed the bit of colour 
 against the greys of the house and the old 
 tree stems when the two blue blouses had 
 
152 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 undergone the necessary wash, and were 
 hanging out to dry. ... On this par- 
 ticular afternoon the lady was hurrying 
 home, delighting in every well-known 
 sight and sound. She heard the geese 
 in the yard, and saw the smoke curling up 
 against the great elm- tree. Then she 
 reached the orchard wall and looked 
 across. The patch of blue caught her eye 
 at once : but there was something wrong : 
 never before had she seen only one blouse 
 on the line, just as she had never seen one 
 of the boys alone. What did it mean ? 
 In another moment she caught sight of 
 the younger child. " Why, where is 
 Willie ? " was the quick question. But 
 there was no answer. For a moment the 
 boy looked at her with big wondering eyes, 
 then turned and was gone in an instant. 
 She lost sight of him behind the laurel 
 bush near the farmhouse door. 
 
 So long as she lived that lady will never 
 forget the dumb pathos of the child's 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 153 
 
 expression. Its explanation was one 
 more little grave in the children's corner 
 of the churchyard. 
 
 These examples that have been given 
 are of cases where the cause of the pathos 
 discerned in children can be easily traced. 
 It is not infrequently the case that some- 
 thing unhappy — something appealing — is 
 noticed in a child, but that nothing can 
 be discovered to account for it. The 
 observer feels sure that there is some- 
 thing wrong, but all efforts to bring it to 
 light or to be of any help are baffled. 
 
 It was not so long ago that a man for 
 whom children had a special interest 
 found himself compelled to 
 ^^ Cottre*^^ pass along the same country 
 lane for many days in suc- 
 cession. At one point there stood a 
 cottage which presented a blank end to 
 the road, its windows and door facing a 
 small garden and being in full view of 
 
154 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 passers-by for some distance. It had at 
 first a most melancholy appearance owing 
 to its having been for a long time un- 
 occupied. The windows looked gloomy 
 and black, the scrap of garden was over- 
 grown and bedraggled, the old pear tree 
 on the front had been blown loose and one 
 branch hung in a dissipated manner over 
 the porch, while on the path lay a couple 
 of broken stone tiles which had fallen 
 from the roof. 
 
 One day, however, the passer-by noticed 
 
 a great change. Evident signs of habitation 
 
 made their appearance, and 
 
 '^CurSns^ signs of a most unusual kind 
 
 in a primitive country-place, 
 
 for in every window in the house there 
 
 appeared bright fresh yellow muslin 
 
 curtains. 
 
 Needless to say, conjecture was rife as 
 to the newcomers but no one seemed to 
 know who they were or whence they came. 
 
 At last one day the above-mentioned 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 155 
 
 pedestrian passed a child whom he had 
 not seen before, and by that time he knew 
 the face of every child who lived within a 
 mile or two. 
 
 She was about nine years old, and better 
 dressed than most of the cottage children. 
 Her white pinafore was spotlessly clean, 
 and of fine material, and there was some- 
 thing dainty about the white linen hat 
 which shaded her from the June sunshine. 
 But the most striking things about her 
 were her hair and her complexion. The 
 former was of a particularly beautiful 
 shade of red, and fell thick and curling 
 beneath the white brim of her hat. The 
 latter was pink and white, and, though 
 perfectly healthy, a strong contrast to 
 the browns and reds of the villagers' 
 bairns. She was pushing a perambulator 
 containing a thoroughly well-appointed 
 baby, and seemed so absorbed in the task 
 that she gave no sort of response to the 
 man's greeting as he passed by. 
 
156 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 After this they met on most days, and 
 
 more than once he saw her entering or 
 
 leaving the house with the 
 
 ,., T^^ yellow curtains. She never 
 
 Mysterious "^ 
 
 Child. seemed to speak to anybody, 
 and never had anything to 
 do with other children who were playing 
 in the lane. 
 
 Do what he would the man could never 
 get so much as an answering smile from 
 the child's full and sensitive-looking lips. 
 There was a curious air of mystery about 
 her, and a reserve and habitual melan- 
 choly of expression that went to his heart. 
 Added to this there was an appearance of 
 loneliness about her life, for no other 
 member of the family ever seemed to come 
 to the door when she went or came, and 
 for all that could be seen she and the baby 
 might have been living all alone. 
 
 To a child-lover this daily vision of 
 an unnaturally solitary and probably 
 unhappy hfe was insupportable. He was 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 157 
 
 continually on the look out for a chance 
 of breaking through the girl's reserve, 
 and trying to brighten her life. 
 
 At last one day it seemed as if the 
 opportunity had come. 
 
 A mile or so beyond the cottage the lane 
 crossed a stream by a low stone bridge. 
 It was a cheerless spot in the 
 Stonf Iridgl dusk Of evening, for the 
 water ran dark and stealthily 
 between old grey willow-trees, but here 
 it was that he found her, by herself and 
 leaning over the low stone parapet. He 
 went straight up to her and said " Good 
 evening," before he noticed that she was 
 crying quietly, as those people do whose 
 tears are frequent. Putting his hand 
 over hers as it lay on the wall he asked 
 her what was amiss. For one second she 
 looked up in his face, and he made sure 
 that he would learn her secret. The next 
 instant a look of terror passed over her, 
 and she snatched her hand away. Before 
 
158 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 he could say a word or recover from his 
 surprise she was gone. He saw the white 
 flutter of her pinafore as she ran home- 
 wards down the murky lane, and he never 
 saw her again. By the next evening the 
 house was unoccupied once more, and he 
 had nothing but the memory of a child's 
 pathos which could never be explained. 
 
 There is just one other bit of pathos 
 
 which crops up now and again in children's 
 
 lives. It happens sometimes 
 
 ^ ChUd!*"^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ devotion to some- 
 one who has shown them 
 kindness or taken notice of them is 
 accidentally overlooked, and the con- 
 sequent feeling of desertion is most 
 pathetic. Girls are more liable to this 
 experience than boys, and when it is borne 
 in upon a small child for the first time 
 that she is less attractive than her fellows 
 and must in consequence expect to 
 receive less notice even from those upon 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 159 
 
 whom she has poured out her chief store 
 of affection, the suffering entailed is 
 frequently acute. 
 
 In selecting a teacher or companion for 
 children it would be no bad plan to 
 observe those who on an occasion when 
 many Uttle ones are gathered together 
 take notice of the ugly children. They 
 are the true child-lovers. 
 
 An example of the kind of pathos 
 referred to came to the notice of the 
 writer some years ago at a children's 
 party, and he set down the sensations of 
 the little girl in question in some lines 
 which she is supposed to speak. 
 
 " My Bissop." 
 
 I went to the Bissop's party 
 
 In my vi'let velveteen : 
 The others went last year, you know, 
 
 But I hadn't never been. 
 
 I was only four ; and mother said 
 It was really much too late ! 
 
 But now I'm five — though all a year 
 Was a 'mendous time to wait ! 
 
160 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 I knew the Bissop very well, 
 
 For didn't I sit on his knee 
 When he came for Confummation, 
 
 And stopped at our house for tea ? 
 
 He's a dear old man — our Bissop — 
 
 And he'll hardly ever miss 
 Stroking the hair of a little girl 
 
 And giving her a kiss. 
 
 So I did look forward to going, 
 
 (And I whispered it all to my doll) — 
 
 Though Tom said he didn't see the good 
 Of taking a mealy-faced Moll. 
 
 But I didn't know I was ugly, 
 And nothing about being shy. 
 
 So I couldn't sit still with 'citement 
 All the whole way in the fly ! 
 
 We got there at last : there was numbers 
 Of boys and girls at their teas. 
 
 And oh ! — in the corner — the Bissop ! — 
 With two little girls on his knees. 
 
 I knew they was much more pretty 
 Than me ; but I thought perhaps 
 
 Their turn would be over bye and bye 
 And he'ld take me up on his laps ! 
 
 So I went quite close, till Susie 
 
 Told me I mustn't stare — 
 But I don't b'lieve it mattered, 
 
 He didn't know I was there ! 
 
 Then the rest of the children got dancing, 
 And I was knocked down on the floor, 
 
 So I w'iggled my way to a corner, 
 And sat just close to the door. 
 
THE CHILD'S PATHOS 161 
 
 For I thought he'ld pass and see me, 
 
 And once he did really stand 
 Quite close to me — my Bissop ! — 
 
 And I touched his coat with my hand. 
 
 But oh ! he never noticed ; 
 
 He didn't seem to see : 
 And when he was kissing anyone 
 
 They was other children than me, 
 
 I fink I must be ugly. 
 
 It wasn't the velveteen, 
 'Cause when she had it on last year 
 
 Susie looked like a queen ! 
 
 Yes ; I had some toys and a bootiful tea. 
 And my cracker had got a ring ! 
 
 And I fink I enjoyed the party 
 'Cept p'raps for only one fing I 
 
 And when I got home to dolly, 
 And she was in bed by my side, 
 
 I twied to tell her about it — 
 
 But she was asleep — and I cmed. 
 
 I- (a 19) 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 WAYSIDE CHILDREN 
 
 The study of some particular child is of 
 great interest. If the child be one with 
 whom one is brought into daily contact 
 the study may become most exhaustive 
 and may prove the means of imparting 
 a new and helpful knowledge of childhood 
 generally, 
 
 A noted botanist has devoted years to 
 
 the study of the chickweed. He has 
 
 added to his own and to the 
 
 Flowers ^ general knowledge of botany 
 
 ChMren ^ ^^^^ store of information 
 
 by his temporarily exclusive 
 
 attention to this one plant. But he would 
 
 be the last to deny the charm of a stroll 
 
 through lanes or fields where multitudes 
 
 of flowers claim passing attention and 
 
 admiration. To pause every few minutes 
 
 to observe a cluster of primroses, a bank 
 162 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 163 
 
 of mercury, or even a pink-tipped daisy — 
 to halt suddenly as a whiff of sweet per- 
 fume tells us of a hidden nest of violets — 
 to gather two or three of the cowslips 
 that spangle the meadows — all this may 
 belong to the lightest side of the study of 
 botany. But it has a charm that few can 
 resist, and thus far at least the veriest 
 beginner can follow. 
 
 So it is with the study of childhood. 
 Almost everywhere we go on our daily 
 road of life there are children to be found, 
 children differing one from another as 
 widely as the primrose from the violet, 
 but each one worth our notice and 
 possessed of a special charm. 
 
 It is extraordinary to find on talking to 
 
 one and another how few 
 
 The Loss to people realise the pleasure 
 
 Fa'ulo Notice that they lose by failing 
 
 Children, ^q observe the little wayside 
 
 children. There are many 
 
 persons capable of passing by without 
 
164 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 seeing the loveliest of wayside flowers, but 
 there are more who take no heed at all of 
 our wayside children. And yet, if the loss 
 to the former is great, the loss to the latter 
 is greater far. A flower can charm the 
 eye or delight the sense of smell : it can 
 interest the scientific observer who notes 
 its construction and mode of growth; 
 but that is all. There is no reflected 
 light, no joy felt by the flower and 
 flashed back in happy answering glance, 
 be its eye never so bright. For most 
 people there is no increase of knowledge 
 from day to day, and certainly there is 
 none of that increase of understanding 
 between observer and observed which 
 lends such charm to the chance meetings 
 with the children who are about our path. 
 Some people are too busy and rush 
 along in too great a hurry. Some people 
 are too self-important. They are grown 
 up, and fancy that the fact that they 
 are older has so greatly increased their 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 165 
 
 value that it would be lowering themselves 
 to take notice of children. They will 
 
 assert that they cannot be 
 ^^'^^'Sc*''* bored with them. They will 
 
 brush them impatiently aside 
 if they are too closely approached by 
 children when other people are present. 
 There is a certain amount of insincerity 
 in all this, for when such people fancy 
 that they are unobserved they not 
 infrequently yield to the natural tempta- 
 tion of noticing and even playing with 
 little children. 
 
 Some people, again, fancy that to let 
 children know that they are observed is 
 
 bad for their character, and, 
 
 ^*p^!r^r*^* of course, it is possible to 
 
 Balance, make them self-conscious 
 
 and conceited by taking too 
 much notice of them. On the other hand, 
 there is a danger of children becoming 
 morbid, nervous, and secret if they find 
 themselves ignored and unappreciated. 
 
166 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 A child's nature is essentially responsive. 
 It opens out and expands to a show of 
 affection just as a flower to the sunshine, 
 and, as a bud will become withered and 
 diseased when continuously exposed to 
 grey skies and rain, so the character of a 
 child will suffer irretrievable damage 
 from a prolonged course of neglect and 
 cold looks. 
 
 Taking it, then, for granted that 
 nothing but good is likely to follow from 
 a habit of noticing the children whom we 
 meet, it is interesting to remember how 
 greatly our days have been brightened 
 and our own enjoyment increased by this 
 very thing. 
 
 There is a long grey wall leading 
 
 towards the centre of the village. It is 
 
 what is called a " dry " 
 
 The Children ^^11, that is to say, it is built 
 
 Under the 
 
 Wall. without mortar. There is, 
 
 therefore, no great interest in 
 
 it nor any special beauty except where the 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 167 
 
 tints of the little lichens catch the eye of 
 the close observer. The monotony is 
 broken here and there by a bulge in the 
 stonework where an elm-tree in the field 
 has gradually pushed its roots against the 
 foundations. 
 
 But the path beside the wall is seldom 
 lacking in attractions. It is the daily 
 
 playground of the children 
 ^ThiWren.''^ from the cottages which he 
 
 back from the road between 
 where the wall ends and the big barn 
 juts out endways on to the footpath. 
 These cottages are but two in number and 
 have all the picturesqueness of old gables 
 and steep stone-slab roofs. Hoary and 
 bent and lined with the passage of years 
 they seem to speak of old age in every 
 feature. But they echo to-day with the 
 sound of children's voices, and their old 
 stone flags speak from morning to night 
 with the patter of little footsteps. From 
 these two houses come the troop of 
 
168 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 children who play beneath the long grey 
 wall. As a matter of fact there are ten of 
 them altogether — six from one cottage, 
 four from the other. Of these the two 
 eldest boys of the six are just getting too 
 old to play, and are generally doing jobs 
 for mother, or even sometimes for the 
 farmer for whom their father works, on 
 the days when they are free from school. 
 Then there is in each house a baby too 
 small to be trusted anywhere except in 
 its cot or in its mother's arms. This 
 leaves six children for the wayside, when 
 the two Uttle girls who are old enough to 
 go to school have returned to superintend 
 the amusements of the rest, or four who 
 may be found there at any hour of the 
 day when the weather is at all propitious. 
 What bits of sunshine they make ! 
 Let the day be as dull and the road as 
 monotonous as possible it cannot be 
 altogether cheerless when a couple of 
 little chaps with sunny tousled hair and 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 169 
 
 ruddy cheeks stop pulling their soap box 
 full of mud and stones to laugh up in 
 
 your face and say ** Good 
 Marnin'. marnin', Sir," though it be 
 
 four o'clock in the afternoon. 
 Whereby hangs a tale. These two urchins 
 are somewhere between two and four 
 years old, and it had been their habit 
 to greet a friend with a friendly pat and 
 a shout of '* Hey ! " Thereupon one dayt 
 the friend, thinking that their manners 
 might now be taken in hand and it being 
 then shortly after breakfast, said ** You 
 must say * Good morning, Sir,' " which 
 after one or two tries they very creditably 
 did, and have continued at all hours 
 from that day forward. 
 
 But further down the wall is a little 
 group of three. One, a still smaller boy, 
 
 evidently the next in order 
 cSn. ^^ ^^^ fair-haired family. 
 
 He cannot yet keep up with 
 his brothers, and so is taken in hand by 
 
170 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 the two dark-haired httle girls who look 
 up shyly and smilingly from beneath long- 
 fringed lashes. The younger, " Nellie," 
 has been ill and is a queer little figure 
 pinned up in a shawl which reaches to 
 the ground ; the elder is a fat roundabout 
 lady of nearly four, with dark beady eyes, 
 and a trick of sliding a grubby little hand 
 into that of her special friends when they 
 stop for a minute's chat. She is full of 
 character and thoroughly appreciates the 
 importance of being in charge of the 
 other two, looking up with an absurd 
 apologetic smile when the little invalid 
 thrusts forward a few bits of dusty grass 
 and a much-mauled daisy as an offering 
 to the powers that be. 
 
 But, meantime, school has come out, 
 and the number of wayside children is 
 rapidly increasing. A girl of ten or so is 
 quietly knitting as she strolls homewards, 
 her busy fingers hardly stopping as 
 she smiles and curtseys, turning as an 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 171 
 
 afterthought to ask whether she may 
 bring some water-cresses to the house. 
 
 Leaning over a garden wall is a delight- 
 ful little person. She has a very short 
 way to go home and knows 
 
 Ga?den Wall. ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^y 
 
 yet. So she stops as soon 
 as she is inside the wicket to indulge in 
 a further look at the " busy world," of the 
 lane in which she lives, and to seize any 
 chance there may be of a gossip. The 
 garden ground inside the wall is consider- 
 ably above the level of the road — a most 
 convenient thing for this sturdy little lady 
 of five, for it enables her to lean her arms 
 upon the wall and her face upon her arms, 
 and so to survey the world in much 
 comfort. 
 
 Should any one approach whom she 
 wishes to avoid, nothing is simpler than 
 to crouch down and hide until the unde- 
 sirable passer-by is out of sight. Should, 
 however, a friend appear who is welcome, 
 
172 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 but whose presence causes a sudden fit 
 of shyness, the rosy cheeks are quickly 
 hidden in the dimpled arms and a cloud of 
 dark curls tossed over all until a finger 
 judiciously inserted somewhere where the 
 crease of the fat little neck may be sup- 
 posed to be causes a chuckle of delight, 
 and a crimson face and two great blue 
 eyes are momentarily lifted to be buried 
 again in an instant beneath the mass of 
 soft dark hair. But this is a regulation bit 
 of by-play which never lasts long. Con- 
 fidences are soon exchanged and news 
 imparted about the sort of day it has 
 been in school and the health of a doll 
 which fell to her lot at the last treat. 
 Then sometimes — when she is in her 
 tenderest humour — a pair of bright red 
 lips are put up for a kiss, and she trots 
 off down the path to where mother is 
 waiting under the porch of clematis. 
 
 And so it would be possible to go on for 
 long enough. 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 173 
 
 By the roadside, in the field ways, by 
 
 the pathway near .the brook, at many a 
 
 cottage doorway, by many a 
 
 CounS. wicket-gate, our country 
 children, in the beauty of 
 healthfulness and youth, add a hundred- 
 fold to the happiness of those who passing 
 by have eyes to see and hearts to 
 understand. 
 
 But there are others. It is impossible 
 
 to pass along the side streets of our many 
 
 towns without finding the 
 
 th^Town. ^^^^^^ wayside children. They 
 are mostly those who are of 
 that specially attractive age which makes 
 them just too young to go to school and 
 just too old to be kept in the house, so 
 they get somewhere between the two places, 
 and are generally playing in the gutter. 
 
 They have not often the same beauty 
 as the country children, and they have 
 not the same readiness to accept the 
 approaches of " grown-ups." Their 
 
174 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 surroundings almost from their birth make 
 them suspicious and on their guard against 
 possible dangers. But they are children 
 for all that. They will notice and 
 respond to a friendly smile. It is wonder- 
 ful how a sharp and anxious little face is 
 beautified by the smile that after a 
 moment of doubt will come in answer. 
 
 Go down a long street of mean houses, 
 each one the counterpart of every other, 
 and see if there be anything to brighten 
 the way that can compare with the laugh- 
 ter and the play of the wayside children. 
 It is more difficult perhaps to appreciate 
 these little ones, but it should be remem- 
 bered that a friendly greeting is worth 
 more to them than to a country child who 
 gets a dozen such on its way from school. 
 The reflected light, the responsive happi- 
 ness is not so evident at first sight as in 
 the case of country children, but it is even 
 more real when once confidence has been 
 established. 
 
WAYSIDE CHILDREN 175 
 
 A man whose daily walk led him down 
 a certain dingy street saw a tiny boy with 
 
 grimy face and badly devel- 
 
 ^Friendshf^'^ oped limbs playing with a 
 
 was Won. banana skin in the gutter. 
 
 The man nodded to him — 
 the boy shrank away in terror. Next day 
 the man nodded again. The boy had 
 decided there was nothing to be afraid 
 of, and spat at the man. Next day the 
 boy only stared. The day after he 
 shouted '* Hi ! " as the man went on. 
 In time the little fellow smiled back at 
 the greeting which he now began to 
 expect. Finally the triumph was com- 
 plete when the boy — a tiny chap— was 
 waiting at the corner and seized the man's 
 fingers in his dirty little fist. It was a 
 dismal street, but it became one of the 
 very brightest spots in all that man's 
 walk through life. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 children's meetings 
 
 In these days, when the teaching of any 
 virtue necessitates a special Society, and 
 when no Society is complete without its 
 Children's Branch, children's meetings are 
 matters of almost everyday occurrence. 
 
 To say that these meetings are for the 
 most part successful would be scarcely 
 accurate. They are too numerous, and 
 speakers to whom children will listen are 
 too few. 
 
 To whom, then, will they give a hear- 
 ing ? That is a difficult question, almost 
 as difficult to answer as if it 
 
 ^^^1^^"^ were asked ''Who can 
 Children whistle a tune ? " At all 
 
 Listen ? 
 
 events it is quite as difficult 
 to tell people how to gain the attention of 
 children as it is to tell them how to whistle 
 a tune. If they can, they can ; and if 
 
 176 
 
CHILDREN'S MEETINGS 177 
 
 they can't, it isn't much use telhng them. 
 However, it is just possible that anyone 
 who has looked through the pages of this 
 little book may have been stirred to think 
 about children, and to try to understand 
 them. In that case a step has been taken 
 on the road to being one of those lucky 
 people to whom children will listen. 
 
 Small boys and girls, like dogs, know 
 by intuition the people who are fond 
 
 of them, and unless the 
 
 K^^^^^th"* would-be speaker belongs to 
 
 Friends. this class he need not hope 
 
 to get their attention. 
 Grown-up people listen to someone whom 
 they do not like on the chance of finding 
 something to criticize or ridicule. Children 
 simply do not listen at all. 
 
 But a love for children is not enough. 
 There must be the effort to understand 
 them. Unless there be at least some 
 comprehension of their characters, there 
 is bound to be a lack of that sym- 
 pathy which is the essential requisite. 
 
 I3--(23I9) 
 
178 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Somehow or other, children seem to feel 
 at once whether or not 
 
 Children 
 
 must be there exists that subtle link 
 
 between themselves and the 
 
 speaker, and if they cannot discover 
 
 it they will not — perhaps even cannot — 
 
 listen. 
 
 The mistake so often made is to imagine 
 
 that it is easy to understand children. 
 
 The exact opposite is the 
 
 ^ Arr""^* ^^^^' I^ is far easier for any- 
 one to understand grown-up 
 people whose minds work much in the 
 same way as his own than to comprehend 
 and sympathise with the curiously complex 
 thoughts and reasonings of children. 
 
 It has been seen how strangely imagina- 
 tive all children are, but at the same time 
 they are often most literal. There is a 
 well-kno\vn story of a little girl selling 
 artificial flowers at a bazaar who was so 
 anxious that there should be no mistake 
 on the part of the purchasers that she 
 said to each, " They are not realy you 
 
CHILDREN'S MEETINGS 179 
 
 know ; they are stuffed / " No doubt 
 
 this same child would have 
 
 Saleswoman ^^^^^^^ these same flowers 
 
 as absolutely real if she had 
 
 had them to play with, and would have 
 
 let her imagination run riot with them. 
 
 Again, children are often so tender- 
 hearted that they cannot bear to hear of 
 the sufferings of other children, but will 
 inflict intense pain on some insect with 
 complete callousness, the reason being 
 that the one comes within their 
 comprehension while the other does not. 
 
 These simple matters are mentioned 
 here merely to show the complicity of 
 children's characters, and to try to induce 
 those who wish to teach them to abandon 
 the idea that it is perfectly easy to 
 understand children. 
 
 The next necessity for anyone who 
 . , ^. wants to gain the attention 
 
 Infection ^ 
 
 Spreads of a group of little ones is 
 to remember that they are 
 extraordinarily hable to infection, 
 
180 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Just as chicken-pox introduced into 
 a children's party by one child will spread 
 to most of the others, so if one person at a 
 meeting be thoroughly interested and 
 keen, the rest will be sure to catch the 
 infection. That person must, of course* 
 be the speaker. 
 
 It is no sort of use talking to children 
 
 because the speaker has got to say 
 
 something. It is essential 
 
 ^Usdest:* ^^^^^ ^^ should have some- 
 thing to say. Further, it is 
 no use his having something to say unless 
 he is himself enthusiastically interested. 
 Anyone who has tried to speak to children 
 will know how their attention is gone in 
 a moment so soon as he says half-a-dozen 
 words of mere platitude. All this points 
 to the need of careful preparation and 
 thorough knowledge of what he has to say. 
 Then he must say it simply. 
 E^ent?^ Children do not understand 
 long words, and cannot fol- 
 low involved sentences. It is not unusual 
 
CHILDREN'S MEETINGS 181 
 
 to hear the chairman of a children's 
 meeting begin by sa5dng, '* My dear 
 young friends, — if I may be allowed so 
 to designate some whose acquaintance 
 I have hitherto not been so fortunate as 
 to cultivate — the admirable society to 
 which, as I understand, you have given 
 your adherence inculcates those principles 
 of self-abnegation which have long been 
 designated as the true foundations of all 
 existence at once joyous and altruistic." 
 Can anything be more hopeless ? The 
 succeeding speakers must be uncommonly 
 vivacious and interesting if the children 
 are to recover from such a fatal beginning. 
 
 It is no bad thing to try to speak 
 in words of one syllable. If that is 
 thought hopeless it may be mentioned 
 that the Bishop of Bristol 
 MoSiawis. not long ago published a 
 whole sermon in monosylla- 
 bles, just to show what can be done. 
 
 But, on the other hand, it is a serious 
 mistake to talk down to children. That 
 
182 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 is to say, the stuff must be good though 
 
 the language be simple. 
 
 ^R^^^^T Children resent having washy 
 
 Feeble Talk, sentiments served up to 
 
 them in baby language. 
 
 They can understand great thoughts if 
 
 properly presented. 
 
 It has been suggested that when very 
 young indeed they dislike the non- 
 sensical manner in which they are ad- 
 dressed by many adoring women. This 
 has been given as one reason why a baby 
 on being first introduced to a strange 
 man and a strange woman will generally 
 prefer to go to the man. The supposition 
 is that the baby thinks he will stand more 
 chance of hearing rational language.. It 
 is certain that most people have heard 
 ladies speak to little children in a babble 
 which they would not use to a self- 
 respecting dog for fear he should bite 
 them ! 
 
 But to speak more seriously : yet 
 another matter to bear in mind is that 
 
CHILDREN'S MEETINGS 183 
 
 monotony must at all costs be avoided. 
 
 A speech which, however 
 
 ingredfents S^^^ ^^ other ways, is entirely 
 
 to Chnd^rtJ!" pathetic, will fail to keep 
 
 children's attention, while a 
 
 speech that is entirely funny will fail to 
 
 rouse their interest in the object of the 
 
 meeting. There may be tears — a few — 
 
 there must be laughter — now and then. 
 
 There must be stories and there must be 
 
 morals : the art is to make the one almost 
 
 as interesting as the other. 
 
 It may perhaps be allowed to insert 
 
 here one or two practical hints. For 
 
 instance, it is absolutely essential that the 
 
 children should be able to see the face 
 
 of the speaker clearly. It is 
 
 ^SeakV^ well that he, too, should be 
 
 Important, able to See the faces of his 
 
 audience. But the former 
 
 is the more important. If a room, then, 
 
 has windows so placed that either the 
 
 speaker or the children must face them, 
 
 it is better that the speaker should do so. 
 
184 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 Children find it almost impossible to 
 listen to anyone whom they cannot see, 
 a fact which points to the value of a 
 sustained effort on the part of the speaker 
 to catch the eye of first one and then 
 another of his audience. 
 
 That leads on to the desirability of 
 getting rid so far as possible 
 
 Meetings as of formality. There should 
 
 Informal ' -^ 
 
 as Possible, be no barriers between the 
 speaker and the children. A 
 high platform is fatal. It is even more 
 fatal when there is also a table and a 
 water bottle. The speaker should be 
 as close to the children as he can, 
 consistently with being able to see and 
 be seen. 
 
 Here is a description of a thoroughly 
 
 successful children's meeting. A large low 
 
 room with old oak beams 
 
 ^MeetTn?""^ and a dark poUshed floor. 
 
 The only light a blazing fire 
 
 of logs. In the darker corners a few 
 
 groups of mothers and other " grown 
 
CHILDREN'S MEETINGS 185 
 
 ups." Near the centre of the floor, two 
 or three large Indian mats, and in front 
 of them a big low easy chair facing the fire 
 light. In this chair is the speaker, and 
 on his knees and on the arms of the chair 
 cluster three or four of the smallest 
 children. The rest are sitting just 
 anyhow upon the coloured mats. They 
 are all perfectly quiet and well inclined 
 for a rest, for they have just had a suc- 
 cession of games — blind man's buff and 
 '* Jacob, where art thou? " the favourites. 
 For half-an-hour or so they sit and listen 
 to the story of other children less happy 
 than themselves, and learn how best to 
 help them. Then comes '* Good-night," 
 and they go away with impressions still 
 vivid, and with new and brave resolutions. 
 Some such happy informal talks as this 
 may often be held in summer on the grass 
 
 beneath the trees, but the 
 Meetings, ^^^y distractions of the 
 
 open air — a butterfly may 
 turn away all thoughts — make such 
 
186 BOOK OF THE CHILD 
 
 meetings more difficult than those held 
 indoors. 
 
 The hints given in these few pages seem 
 utterly inadequate, and to include only 
 such matters as must occur to all. They 
 have been set down here as some reply 
 to the frequent question '' How can 
 children's meetings be made successful ? " 
 
 There is but one more word to be said. 
 Grown-up people are so greatly distracted 
 by the cares and occupations of their daily 
 life that it needs special preparation before 
 they can understand little children. To 
 anyone who wishes to influence their 
 simple yet imaginative minds the task is 
 almost hopeless unless he will try to fulfil 
 that most difficult command and himself 
 '' become as a little child." 
 
Appendix 
 
 It is of considerable interest, and may be in some 
 cases of practical value to those interested in the 
 well-being of children to notice in order some of the 
 principal Acts of Parliament which have been passed 
 during the last twenty-five years on behalf of 
 children : — 
 
 1883. 46 & 47 Vic, c. 53. Employment of Children 
 in Factories and Workshops. 
 
 1885. 48 & 49 Vic, c 69. Criminal Law Amend- 
 ment Act, relating to criminal assaults on 
 children and to the finding of children in 
 disorderly houses. 
 
 1887. 50 & 51 Vic, c 58. Employment in Coal 
 Mines. 
 
 1889. 52 Sc 53 Vic, c 44. The Prevention of 
 Cruelty to Children Act. This was the first 
 of the three Acts, the others being passed in 
 1894 and 1904 respectively. Sometimes called 
 " The Children's Charter." It is very wide in 
 application, making it an offence to assault, 
 illtreat, neglect, abandon, or expose a child under 
 sixteen years of age in a manner likely to cause 
 such child unnecessary suffering or injury to 
 its health. 
 
 1891. 54 & 55 Vic. c. 3. The Custody of Children 
 Act, dealing with the power of the Court to 
 decline to issue a writ for the production of a 
 child to an unfit parent, and with the power of 
 the Court to order repayment of costs of bringing 
 up a child. 
 
 187 
 
188 APPENDIX 
 
 1891. 54 & 55 Vic, c. 75 & 76. Further enact- 
 ments concerning employment in Factories and 
 Workshops. 
 
 1892. 55 & 56 Vic. c 4. Betting Act. whereby 
 it became a misdemeanour for anyone for the 
 purpose of earning commission to send circulars, 
 etc, to invite an infant to make any bet or wager. 
 
 1893. 56 & 57 Vic, c 48. Reformatory Schools 
 Act. giving power to a Court to remand a youth- 
 ful offender to a prison or to any other place, 
 which has in practice always been assumed to 
 be a workhouse. 
 
 1894. 57 & 58 Vic, c. 33. Industrial Schools Act. 
 Education. 
 
 1897. 60 & 61 Vic, c 57. Infant Life Protection 
 Act, concerning persons receiving infants for 
 hire for the purpose of maintenance. An Act 
 for the abolition of illicit baby-farming. 
 
 1899. 62 & 63 Vic, c 37. Poor Law Act. concern- 
 ing the control of guardians over orphans and 
 children of persons unfit to have control of them 
 
 1901. 1 Ed. VII, c 20. Youthful Offenders Act, 
 providing for (1) the removal of disqualifications 
 attaching to felony, (2) the liability of parent 
 or guardian in the case of youthful offenders, 
 (3) the remand of youthful offenders to other 
 places than prisons, (4) the recovery of expenses 
 of maintenance from parent or person legally 
 liable, etc., etc. 
 
 1901. 1 Ed. VII, c 27. Intoxicating Liquors (Sale 
 to Children) Act, forbidding the sale or delivery 
 
 save at the residence or working place of the 
 purchaser of any description of intoxicating 
 
APPENDIX 189 
 
 liquor to any person under the age of fourteen 
 years, except in corked and sealed vessels, in 
 quantities not less than one reputed pint. It 
 should be noticed that the Licensing Act of 1872 
 prohibited the sale of any description of spirits 
 to any person apparently under the age of 
 sixteen years. 
 
 1903. 3 Ed. VII, c. 45. The Employment of 
 Children Act, containing restrictions on th« 
 hours of employment, age of employees, nature 
 of employment, etc., etc. 
 
 There have also been several Education Acts 
 either passed or proposed, but it is doubtful whether 
 these have not usually had their origin in the exi- 
 gencies of party politics rather than in a bond fide 
 desire for the welfare of children. An honourable 
 exception is the Elementary Education (Defective 
 and Epileptic Children) Act of 1899. 
 
 Printed by Sir Isaac Pitman & Sons, Ltd., Baih. 
 (2319) 
 
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