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THE STORY IN PRIMARY INSTRUCTION
Sixteen Stories and How to Use Them
by
SAMUEL B. ALLISON. PH. D.
Principal of the Walsh School, Chicago
and
H. AVIS PERDUE
Primary Instructor, Chicago Normal Practice School
A. Flanagan Company
Chicago
Copyright 1902
By A. Flanagan Company
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY DISCUSSION 5
THE STORY IN PRIMARY INSTRUCTION 5
1. The Mastery of a Vocabulary not the Material of Instruction.
2. A Wider Circle and Purpose, Growing out of the Child’s Life
and Needs.
3. Language Teaching.
THE SELECTION OF THE SUBJECT MATTER 11
1. Phase of Mind Activity in Early Civilisation.
2. A Third Element of the Race Products.
3. The Legendary and the Mythological the Child’s Natural Food.
4. How Are We to Discriminate as to the Material to be
Selected?
5. Narratives Selected and the Basis of Selection.
6. The Four Story Groups.
THE PROBLEM OF CORRELATION 20
SUGGESTIONS 23
1. The Treatment.
2. Reproduction.
3. The Preparation.
4. Narration.
5. The Deepening.
6. The Nature Material.
7. Ethical Material.
8. Reading.
9. Drawing. Etc.
10. Dramatisation.
11. Construction.
SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIVE STORIES 35
THE SEVEN LITTLE GOATS 35
1. The Mother Goat.
2. The Wolf.
3. The Wolf in the House.
4. The Mother Goat’s Return.
5. Detail of Form Work (Diagram).
THE STARDOLLARS 44
1. At Home.
2. In the Fields.
3. In the Forest.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 48
1. At Home.
2. In the Woods.
3. At Grandmother’s House.
THE SWEET RICE PORRIDGE 54
1. The Little Girl and her Mother.
2. The Wonderful Rat.
3. The Mother Well Again.
4. The Flood of Rice.
5. The Valley Filled Up.
MOTHER FROST 63
1. The Lost Spindle.
2. The Maid in the Well.
3. The Return Home.
4. The Idle Maid.
SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED 70
1. The Home.
2. How Snow-White and Rose-Red Played.
3. The Bear.
4. A Dwarf In Trouble.
5. The Dwarf Fishing.
6. The Dwarf and an Eagle.
7. The Bear Again.
THE COCK AND THE HEN 83
1. On the Mountain.
2. The Travelers.
3. At the Inn.
4. The Innkeeper.
DEATH OF THE COCK 89
1. The Cock’s Death.
2. The Funeral.
3. Crossing the River.
BIRDIE AND LENA 93
1. How the Hunter Found Birdie.
2. The Cook.
3. How Birdie was Saved.
4. The Search.
5. The Servants Go Again to the Forest.
6. The Cook Punished.
THE WOLF AND THE FOX 102
1. At the Farm Yard.
2. At the Farm House.
3. In the Cellar.
THE STREET MUSICIANS 107
1. How the Musicians Came Together.
2. In the Forest.
3. The Robbers Return.
4. Detail of Form Work (Diagram).
THE STRAW, THE COAL AND THE BEAN 116
1. The Meeting.
2. The Journey.
CINDERELLA 120
1. How Cinderella Got Her Name.
2. The Fair.
3. The Ball.
4. How Cinderella Went to the Ball.
THE WONDERFUL TRAVELER 130
1. The Traveler.
2. The Kind Man Grants Wishes.
3. The Proud Man Overtakes the Traveler.
4. The Proud Man’s Wishes.
HANS AND THE FOUR BIG GIANTS 141
1. The House in the Country.
2. Leaving Home.
3. Hans in the City.
4. The King’s Palace.
5. Hans Starts on his Journey.
6. Hans Meets Another Giant.
7. Hans Meets a Third Giant.
8. Hans Meets a Fourth Giant.
9. How Hans Got the Necklace.
THE FIR TREE 155
1. In the Forest.
2. The Wood-Cutters.
3. Other Trees Go from the Forest.
4. The Fir Tree Has its Wish.
INTRODUCTION.
I.
THE STORY IN PRIMARY INSTRUCTION.
The greatest need of the primary school to-day is some positive
content or subject matter of instruction. The popular conception of
such a school is that its main function is to teach the young child to
read, write, and cipher. That is, that it has to do mainly with the
formal aspects of language and numbers. So long as a certain amount of
facility is gained in these formal arts, there is little disposition to
demand anything more.
Even so great an authority as the Committee of Fifteen has championed
this view, and has given as its deliberate judgment that the first
four years of school life should be devoted to the mastery of the
formal phases of instruction. While it may be contended that it is not
meant to exclude the giving of a positive subject matter, still it is
interpreted as sanctioning the present obvious over-emphasis of the
formal side of language in our primary schools.
A strict conformity to this formal program would mean that the first
four years of school life, the most impressionable period in the
pupil’s school career, are to be empty of any real subject matter.
The mastery of written and printed forms is to be set up as an end in
itself, losing sight of the fact that they are but means for conveying
the thought, feelings, experiences, and aspirations of the race from
one generation to another.
When we consider what the child at the age of six or seven really
is; when we consider his love of story, his hunger for the concrete
material of knowledge, his deep interest in the widening of his
experience,--it is evident that such a course is out of all harmony
with his real nature. It is the giving of stones when the cry is for
bread. It is even worse than the proverbial making of bricks without
straw. It is attempting to make bricks with straw alone.
THE MASTERY OF A VOCABULARY NOT THE MATERIAL OF INSTRUCTION.
It will be granted that the mastery of a printed and a written
vocabulary is of the utmost importance. As a subordinate end, the
ability to interpret the printed page and to express thought in
correct form is the most imperative demand upon the school. But these
acquirements are not a content in themselves. They are not the material
of instruction. In themselves, they do not enlarge the understanding or
furnish the food which the young mind hungers for--and must have if it
is maintained in a condition of health. They are mere forms, and the
dwelling upon them during the impressionable years of childhood results
in a deadening of his interest and dwarfing of his powers, so that the
over-emphasis of this phase of education to the exclusion of content
defeats its own ends.
Laying the foundation for a future character edifice, keeping active
the developing interests, the widening of his experience, the formation
of interpretative concepts,--these are of greater value from the point
of view of language mastery, even of its spoken and written forms, than
the persistent drill in its formal elements.
Language teaching must be approached from the content side if we are
to get any genuine interest in the overcoming of difficulties on the
part of the child. There is no interest for the child in the language
forms themselves when presented in abstraction and emphasized as such.
He may be drilled into proficiency, but the interest does not come from
the relation of these formal elements to his own needs or activity.
The interest has been external and it flags as soon as the external
excitement is withdrawn. A genuine interest, an intrinsic one growing
out of his own needs and nature, can be fostered only by supplying a
subject matter adapted to the various levels of thought through which
his development leads him. If this is furnished, it is no partial,
intermittent attention that the pupil gives. While dealing with such a
content he is not forming the habit of mind-wandering and inattention
so frequently seen when children are kept closely to word drill and to
reading for elocutionary purposes.
A WIDER CIRCLE AND PURPOSE, GROWING OUT OF THE CHILD’S LIFE AND NEEDS.
The possession of a wide acquaintance with the standard subject matter
of child literature before serious attempts at learning to read are
made, will subordinate the acquisition of a reading vocabulary as means
to an end desired on the part of the child. There will be purpose in
it for him. The learning to read will be seen as a step necessary to
a fuller expression of activities already going on, and difficulties
will be overcome because their mastery is a means in a wider circle of
purpose growing out of the child’s own life and needs. If, in early
years, the emphasis is removed from the form to the content side of
instruction, if his native hunger for folklore and nature-material is
satisfied, the learning to read will be lifted out of drudgery and will
be accomplished with self-effort, and with a rapidity truly surprising.
The early forcing of technique is not a real gain in the child’s
education, however much may be apparently accomplished. Immediate
results are not a safe guide for instruction in the primary grades.
They are, many times, a positive loss in time, and are gained at the
expense of dwarfing the mental and physical powers. There is no real
need of forcing the process of learning to read if the teacher is ready
with a subject matter which the child is already going out to meet.
The time of the first year of school life would conduce far more to
the child’s progress if spent with learning to read and write as a
secondary consideration, and the giving of a real body of culture,
ethical, and nature material as a main purpose. Subsequent progress
would be all the more rapid and instruction be all the more educative
because a wider range of interest would call forth self-active
participation of all the powers. The widening of experience and the
formation of interpretative concepts would allow further instruction
to be grasped with sufficient avidity to carry it over into actual
assimilation into the self.
LANGUAGE TEACHING.
What has been said with regard to the relation of reading to a content
is equally true with regard to what is known as language teaching. It
is a hopeless task to endeavor to give skill in the use of language
independent of a content which is not in accord with the pupil’s own
stage of development. The interest, to be genuine, and productive
of self-effort, must always be in the content. An enrichment of his
vocabulary, a proper use of words, correct form of oral and written
speech must come, not for themselves, but as results of an effort to
the adequate expression of something which the pupil is interested to
communicate.
The widespread criticism directed against the results of language
teaching in our schools no doubt has something of justification.
This defect does not come from lack of attention to the matter, or
from indifference on the part of the teachers, but largely from the
over-emphasis of the purely formal aspects of language. The matter is
approached from the wrong side. In early years, to get form we must
emphasize content. In the primary grades, formal insistence on correct
technique should be at the minimum, while richness and variety of
subject matter should be at the maximum.
Nor is this without application to the remaining forms of language
expression,--drawing and music. Skill in aesthetic forms can come only
from an interest in something to be expressed in these forms.
When we consider that the child, up to the eighth or ninth year of his
life, has not a sufficient mastery of a reading vocabulary to enable
him to get for himself out of books material for which he has deepest
need, and which is his natural and proper nourishment, the imparting to
him orally such material assumes an aspect of gravest importance. Shall
his early years of school life be barren and empty? Surely the teacher
has a duty in this respect beyond giving merely formal instruction.
She should not allow the pressure for immediate technical results to
deprive the child of his inheritance in the folklore and the epic
treasures of the race.
It has been shown by experiment that, with young children, instruction
is taken more readily through the ear than through the eye. Their
pre-school education has been acquired largely through auditory
impressions and exists in the mind in the form of auditory images. To
throw the emphasis at once on visual impression and imagery is too
violent a break in their mental habits.
II.
THE SELECTION OF THE SUBJECT-MATTER.
The kind of content proper to early childhood is determined by the
nature of the child himself. It is the child that is to be educated.
The teacher must take him as he is, with full trust that the
strengthening of those powers at present active will result in his
highest good. All attempts to improve on nature has been abortive.
Every normal child is active in those ways which the race experience
has embedded in him. His activities are echoes of those by which the
race has been successful. The conception of the child standing over
against the real subject matter of education and in direct antagonism
to it, between which and him there is no intrinsic relation and into
which he must be introduced by external means, is not in harmony with
an optimistic philosophy or with a correct understanding of pedagogical
principles.
There must be, in the nature of things, a relation between the
activities already functioning in the child and the material the
assimilation of which will constitute him not only a thoroughly
equipped individual but also a socially efficient factor. It is a
mistaken view to suppose that the exercise and the development of the
activities dominant in early childhood will lead away from the best
interests of the individual or endanger his efficiency as a member of
society. It is anomalous to assume that the impulses and interests of
childhood must be suppressed or eradicated in order to fit him for
participation in social life. These impulses have been implanted in
his nature by actual participation in a social life on the part of his
ancestry, and they are the possibilities of a worthy social development.
While this is true, while the determining factor in the selection and
arrangement of the subject-matter of education is the child himself,
yet the undoubted parallelism between his growth and that of the race
widens the scope and furnishes the broader basis for such selection
and arrangement. It matters little to what extent such a parallelism
is accepted. The principle once established makes it a matter of
indifference whether we proceed from the individual or from the
broader standpoint of the psychological history of the race. This
psychological history is made out by a study of the literature products
left behind in the ascent from the lower levels of development to the
higher, as represented in modern civilization.
PHASE OF MIND ACTIVITY IN EARLY CIVILIZATION.
A survey of the literary remains of the past gives conclusive proof
that the characteristic phase of mind activity in the dawning periods
of civilization is the imaginative or mythical. The earliest literary
product of every people is the epic, whose chief elements are legends,
myths and the heroic, and whose authorship is not individual but of
the race itself. Such a product, not the creation of any one mind, but
slowly fashioned through the centuries by the poetic genius of the
race, however trivial it may seem, has strong claims on our deepest
veneration. It should receive most careful study and consideration.
These epic remains come from the innermost life of a people. They are
the expression of this life. They are eloquent witnesses of a strong
imagination dealing with the mysteries of earth, of sky, and of life
itself. They tell of the morning of history, when man was close to
nature--a part of nature. The earth, trees, waters, animals--all forms,
animate and inanimate, had voices for him. He communed with them. He
treated them as of equal rank with himself.
A THIRD ELEMENT OF THE RACE PRODUCTS.
But, in addition to their imaginative character and their closeness
to nature, these race products have still a third element of the
utmost value for use as material for primary instruction. While they
“enforce no moral” they tell “a story, and the moral in solution with
the story.” Each tale is a narration without comment. The ethical
teaching involved is in the most concrete form. It is not set out and
emphasized, but lies wrapped up in the movement of the narrative itself
and awaits the exercise of the child’s ethical judgment.
Viewed from our ethical standpoint, folklore does not always come up to
the highest standard. There are objectionable features in many tales.
In this respect they reflect the uncritical and even crude morals of
the time. While this is true of some of the tales, in many the ethical
teaching is pure, lofty and wholesome, and furnishes an element greatly
needed in our primary schools. We have here held up for esteem and
veneration these virtues of head and heart and action that lie at the
base of a happy, considerate and industrious home life. Baseness,
cruelty, ingratitude, and laziness are brought home to the individual
in their consequences. The corresponding virtues are shown in their
true relation to happiness and well being. This may not be the highest
form of ethical activity, but it is the only kind of ethical teaching
on a level with child thought. The morality of the stories is set forth
in the concrete as a principle of action found valuable in the race’s
history.
That such a content is a great _desideratum_ for purposes of ethical
instruction in our schools all will admit. The condition of religious
thought is such as to preclude the use of sacred literature. Perhaps
it would not afford so many advantages for purposes of ethical
teaching in the first year of school life as literature closer to the
childhood of the race in its origin. Some subject-matter that affords
opportunity for the exercise of the ethical judgment is an imperative
demand for our time. What is there more suitable than this embalmed
judgment of the race as to what is valuable in conduct and character?
Here are stored up in a form that appeals to the child material for
generalizations as to the conditions of well-being and of happiness,
as well as of a moral and a useful life. All that the race has
thought, felt, and experienced is here at the service of the child.
One is almost tempted to use the expression of Hegel and say that, in
assimilating the ethical teaching of these racial literatures, the
child is being suckled at the breast of the Universal Ethos.
THE LEGENDARY AND THE MYTHOLOGICAL THE CHILD’S NATURAL FOOD.
Even to casual observation there is close correspondence between child
nature and the characteristics of the early literature of the race.
Children are wholly in the imaginative on mythical level of thought.
They are immersed in the sensuous. They refuse to be bound by the hard
matter of fact. They will away and claim the world as their own through
which to roam on the unfettered wing of fancy. They claim freedom to
construct their own world and to people it with creatures of their own
fabrication, independent of the shackles of time and space.
The child also feels himself a part of nature, not as something
standing over against it. The separation has not yet come. He ascribes
an equal and like personality to animate and inanimate objects. He is
at home among animals and plants. There is spontaneous interest in all
phases of nature, and inborn love for her creatures; and as to the
ethical element, the child is not without points of contact for it. He
is born with social impulses. He is not only to be a social creature,
but is one at all stages of development. He is nothing if not social.
The fiction of original, independent individuality which must be thrown
off, given up, or eradicated before becoming a social being, is fast
giving way to the natural or organic theories of social origin and
growth. The very impulses which are sometimes cited to show the natural
depravity of childhood are the vigorous reaching out of his nature
toward a participation in the social life.
Thus there can be little doubt as to the fitness of legendary and
mythological material for the needs of the child. It is his natural
food. It fits in with his forms of thought--is in obvious relation
to them. It meets the needs of activities already functioning. It
discloses a world in which he can be at home. It falls in with his
interpretation of this world, while the simple social life therein
depicted appeals to his interest.
HOW ARE WE TO DISCRIMINATE AS TO MATERIAL TO BE SELECTED?
If this position is granted, how then, out of the vast richness of the
material, are particular selections to be made? What principles should
govern in our choice? As already hinted there are degrees of value, for
purposes of instruction, in the immense treasury of folklore, myth and
fable. It will be readily conceded that what is known as folklore has
qualities rendering it of greatest value, for the first years of school
life. It is simple and direct. Its conception of the world is that
of pure naturalism. The formal myth and fable belong to later stages
of mental development. The fable, too, has the objection of being
explicitly didactic in its enforcement of the moral.
NARRATIVES SELECTED AND THE BASIS OF SELECTION.
In the following narratives, for the most part consisting of German
_Märchen_, the principles of selection given below have been kept in
mind:
1. The story must be simple, direct, and imaginative.
2. It must have strong ethical significance and must avoid cruel
situations. Stories dealing with happy home life--emphasizing industry,
thrift, and usefulness--are to be given preference.
3. It must offer a content rich in social allusion, in outdoor life,
and in references to natural objects, animate and inanimate.
4. It should be of such abiding worth that it will bear repetition and
hold interest.
5. It must be dramatic; that is, there should be movement, activity,
dialogue, interesting and even humorous incidents, but all subordinate
to a central unity. Only such a dramatic unity can work a deep and
lasting impression.
These principles of selection are in the main those enunciated by
William Rein in his excellent manual, _Das Erste Schuljahr_, a book
with which every primary teacher should be familiar. The stories here
presented have the sanction of such eminent students of pedagogy as
William Rein, Ziller, Just, and Hiemish--all leaders of educational
thought in Germany.
The text of the first fourteen tales has been translated with a
few adaptations from the German of Hiemish, as found in his _Das
Gesinnungsunterricht_. To these have been added Andersen’s _Fir Tree_
and Miss Harrison’s _Hans and the Four Big Giants_.
The order here given is not essential, but on the whole it will be
found a rational one. The succession could be determined by many
points of view. The one here chosen is that of relation to home
life. The series begins with the simplest home relations of parents
and brother and sister. It gradually broadens into the wider circle
of companionship, and contact with the world external to the home.
It culminates in Miss Harrison’s fine story, _Hans and the Four Big
Giants_, where the separation from home is complete and the child is
brought into contact with the highest industrial and scientific phases
of modern civilization. Transition from the more simple situations to
the more complex and longer narratives have also been kept in mind.
THE FOUR STORY GROUPS.
Thus the stories fall into four groups. The First Group comprises _The
Seven Little Goats_, _The Star Dollars_, _Red Riding Hood_, _Sweet
Rice Porridge_, _Mother Frost_, and _Rose-Red and Snow-White_. These
stories are confined chiefly to the home circle and deal with the
relation of parent and child.
The Second Group is _The Cock and the Hen_, _The Death of the Cock_,
and _Birdie and Lena_. These are partly inside and partly outside the
family circle. There is contact with persons outside the home.
The Third Group is _The Wolf and the Fox_, _The Street Musicians_,
_The Straw_, _The Coal and the Bean_, _The Wonderful Traveler_, and
_Cinderella_. This group extends the relationship further into the
external world.
Lastly, in the story of _Hans and the Four Big Giants_, the horizon
is widened so as to include the separation from the home and an
independent career among strangers. _The Fir Tree_ is added for use as
a Christmas story for those who desire it. In fact, many of the stories
could be taken out of their order and be used as introductions to the
study of the seasons. The Cock and the Hen is an autumn story, while
several others might be used as dealing with spring time.
III.
THE PROBLEM OF CORRELATION.
The two chief problems of educational practice concern the selection
and the arrangement or organization of the educative material. The
problem of the organization of the subject-matter is spoken of as
Correlation or Concentration. Any proposal silent on this point would
not be adequate to the best school thought or practice of the hour.
The main contention over this question hinges on what subject should
be taken as a center around which other lines of instruction should
be gathered. Against the proposition to use the historical or
culture-historical material as such a center objections can easily be
raised. It will be granted that it does not offer an ideal point of
departure for all the activities of even the primary school. It will be
granted further that such a center is not the true center of the social
life. It is liable to over-emphasize the purely intellectual side of
instruction at the expense of the volitional phases, and it cannot be a
center for the correlation of number.
But mathematics and literature do not correlate. Arithmetic and
formal science have arisen in dealing with the practical problems of
industrial processes. They are forms which industrial processes have
taken on. There are some reasonable objections to the correlation of
what is called “Construction Work” with this literature material.
But, on the whole, the narrative, or story, offers, under present
conditions, the only practicable center for correlation in the first
school year. Especially since, at this period, formal number work and
science proper are at their minimum. For the language arts,--reading,
writing, spelling, exercises in oral speech,--it is the natural medium.
The aesthetic arts,--drawing and music--and even construction work, can
be correlated here without undue violence to instruction as an organic
unity. This material, too, furnishes at least a point of departure for
what is known as nature study. It will find abundant inspiration in the
animals, plants, and natural objects alluded to.
From what has been said, it will be seen that the stories are to be
used as a medium of instruction, not just told and enjoyed. They are
to be regarded as subject-matter to be assimilated and expressed.
They provide a content by means of which the various school arts may
reverse their usual direction and become, so to speak, centrifugal--the
spontaneous outflowing of the self.
Merely telling the story does not exhaust its possibilities. It should
be made a means for the exercise of the entire round of childish
activities. Unless the understanding is enlarged, the sympathies
widened, the ethical sense deepened, and steady advance made in all
lines of technique, the teacher will miss the true aim.
IV.
SUGGESTIONS.
The manner or method of presenting and using the material is based
largely on Herbart’s “Formal Steps.” Though an effort has been made to
get away from their rigidity, no teacher can afford to become hampered
by the requirements of a too rigid system or a too formal method of
instruction. Yet there must always be a consciousness of what meets
the demands of educative instruction. Apperception, or learning, takes
place under certain conditions only. These conditions must be met.
THE TREATMENT.
It is not the intention to give a list of set questions whose form
and order are to be rigidly followed. It is difficult to fix upon the
precise point where such questions cease to be helpful and suggestive
and begin to trench on the legitimate province of the teacher. In order
to avoid this unpardonable sin, the treatment of some of the stories
has been elaborated quite fully, to show the work entire as it has been
given to children; while that of others has been outlined, noting only
the main points to be brought out and leaving the form of presentation
largely to the teacher’s individuality.
Nothing can take the place of originality and spontaneity. If a fixed
program is followed, the main purpose of the work will be missed and
the interest for both teacher and children will evaporate. In the
treatment of the two elements, the ethical and the nature material have
been separated from each other and from the other parts. This is for
the purpose of emphasizing them in the teacher’s mind. The plan need
not be followed in the actual work. Questions and explanations may be
introduced into the narration if care be taken that the interruption
does not break the thread of the story.
There has been no attempt to divide the subject into lessons. However,
the preparation, the narration, and the deepening should, in most
cases, be all that is undertaken in one period of fifteen minutes. This
is as long as young children should be kept to one exercise. If this is
done in the morning session, the reproduction and the other exercises
could come in the afternoon session.
REPRODUCTION.
A child learns to talk fluently and with correctness by talking. Oral
speech should come before written speech. If the pupil can talk in
good English with ease there will not be much trouble with written
expression. To this end there should be much time given to oral
reproduction by the children. Even the most backward child should
be encouraged to attempt it. There will be a strong temptation to
allow the brilliant story tellers to do most of the reproducing. Each
child should be thrown wholly on his own responsibility. Let him tell
what he can in his own way and reserve corrections until he is done.
The story itself should be kept fluid. It should not be allowed to
crystallize into set phrases on the part of either teacher or children.
Great liberty should be allowed in reproduction, so that freshness and
spontaneity may never be lacking. The reproduction may immediately
follow the deepening process or be reserved for a separate period. It
should be given from the beginning frequently.
THE PREPARATION.
It is well to give the aim or purpose of the story first. This may be
in the form of a brief outline giving the general direction which the
story is to take. Some such hint seems a pedagogical necessity. Nothing
is so tiresome to an adult, even, as to listen to a discourse whose aim
and purpose are not apparent. And then the movement as a whole should
be in the mind of the children from the first.
It is in accordance with sound pedagogy to bring to the foreground
of consciousness the ideas already possessed by the children, and
known to be related to what is to be presented. The new is learned
or understood (apperceived) by the old. That which has been once
assimilated enters into and modifies old concepts; these in turn
classify the new material and reduce it to order and unity. It is
therefore important that, before a story is told, the related ideas
be brought forward ready for use by means of a few well directed
questions. In many cases the proper result may be attained by
suggesting a difficulty or problem for the children to solve.
THE NARRATION.
After the preparation follows the story. It should be given in short
divisions. Each such division should be as far as possible a dramatic
unity, subordinate of course to the main one.
The story should be told, not read. Every primary teacher should be a
story teller. Anyone that has felt the deep, enthusiastic response of
children to a story well told will feel amply repaid for any effort to
cultivate the art of story telling. On this point few suggestions can
be given. The main elements of good story telling are intrinsically
connected with the emotional and spiritual endowments. A genuine
appreciation of child-nature must be combined with a lively and
emotional manner of expression.
THE DEEPENING.
It is wise in most cases to question on the main points of the
narration. This fixes them in the children’s minds so that reproduction
of the story will more readily follow. The amount of such questioning
must be determined by the needs of the class. Only the main points
should be dwelt upon. With young children details should be avoided.
THE NATURE-MATERIAL.
The best way to widen the experience of children is to bring them
into actual contact with things. But, as organized and carried on at
present, the school can do very little of this first-hand teaching.
However, at school age, such is the activity of childhood, most
children have a considerable body of nature experience which can be
used as interpretative concepts for new and similar material. Careful
teaching will always aim to discover what experience the individual
members of a class have had in order that inadequate ideas may be
strengthened and given greater detail. This may be done by some child’s
telling his experience, by the teacher giving the information--using
descriptions, pictures or drawings,--or finally by proper questioning.
Starting from what is already known, a skillful teacher can build up
an idea, though of course more or less indefinite, of the object or
process that is comparatively unknown. Questioning can never do more
than bring into explicitness what is really in the mind in a vague
way. Yet, when we consider that the possibilities of all science and,
in fact, of all knowledge, are implicit in the experiences of the
normal child of school age, it is seen that the use of questions as
an educative means is practically unlimited and that it should not be
neglected even in the primary grades.
There is in the stories an abundance of nature-material and of material
bearing on industrial occupations and processes that may serve, when
properly used, as an excellent basis for mental growth in these
directions. In making sure that ideas along these lines are clear, a
foundation is being laid for a more vital grasping of geographical
instruction later on.
The old object-lesson was an effort in this direction, but its
formality and isolation killed it. It is not the purpose to recommend
formal object lessons. The main purpose should be to see that the
allusions to natural objects and to industrial occupations and
processes are understood. And if they are not, to bring them into
adequate clearness by proper instruction.
THE ETHICAL MATERIAL.
There is a wide difference, so far as method is concerned, between
setting forth the moral to a tale in an explicit way and allowing
children to express their judgments upon concrete facts of conduct. The
latter is all that should be attempted. In the reaction from formal
moral instruction there is danger of going to the other extreme and
neglecting it entirely.
The vital element in literature--its ultimate _raison d’etre_--is its
ethical import. It constitutes the ethical medium. It gives each child
the benefit of the experience of the race. The duty of the school to
give occasion for the exercise of ethical judgments is greater than its
duty to train the merely intellectual judgment. For the one determines
what is good or bad, the other what is real or unreal. Right conduct is
of more importance than mere knowing.
READING.
The teaching of the mechanics of reading concerns itself with affixing
visual images of words to the auditory vocabulary already possessed by
the child. As this is a purely formal process, having little educative
value in itself, the judicious teacher will welcome any suggestion
toward minimizing routine drill. Instead of attempting to fix the
visual form of each word, she will limit the formal instruction to
giving the child a capability of deciphering new words for himself,
that is, of translating them into motor images of articulation.
Instruction that does not give to the child this capability is wasting
time and misdirecting energy.
In order to have facility in the mastering of new words, it is
necessary that there be a knowledge of the vocal value of the letters
and an acquaintance with the groups into which words may be separated
according to similarity of sound. Thus daily short drills upon the
purely formal side seems a necessity. This should be done in a separate
exercise, however.
At the same time this formal process should not be wholly divorced
from the thought side. The learner should be able to grasp quickly
the meaning the sentence conveys as a whole, and to give it natural
expression. To make this connection between the two elements as close
as possible, the sentences to be given visual form should be taken from
the children themselves. These can be written on the board, or printed
in large type on Manila sheets (forming a chart),[A] or in ordinary
type on slips to be given to the children.
The possession by the class of the common subject-matter which the
stories supply, renders this plan feasible and always full of interest.
Knowledge of the content will reinforce the recognition of words and
sentences and thus make progress in acquiring a visual vocabulary rapid
and, in part, unconscious. Moreover, the anticipation of the meaning
of what is about to be read will result in a natural expression of
it. If the child has even a provisional grasp of the meaning of the
whole sentence before attempting to read it, the expression will
largely take care of itself. Until the comprehension of the meaning
is instantaneous, there should always be a preliminary study of the
sentence to be read, so that the thought as a whole may at least be
foreshadowed in the mind of the child.
In this way there is a vital relation between reading as a formal
process and that which is read. This obviates the necessity of using
isolated and unfamiliar topics as well as those having no value in
themselves. From the first the reading matter should have value for the
child--be related to his stage of thought and to his dominant interests.
DRAWING, ETC.
The stories are an excellent source from which to draw material for
expression in the various aesthetic exercises--drawing, paper cutting,
modeling clay, or dramatization. Whatever the form, it should be the
spontaneous portrayal of the child’s own imagery. However crude the
product may be, if it is a genuine attempt at such expression, it has
the essential element of an aesthetic creation and should have our
respect as such. With a very little instruction in putting on sky and
ground, in representing distance, progress will be rapid.
Drawing should be in a color medium, and be a daily exercise.
Paper-cutting is of absorbing interest to children and is a form of
school art that rapidly gives definiteness to the images of natural
objects. It brings out a high degree of manual dexterity and offers
almost as wide a scope for individual composition as drawing.
These exercises, not needing the teacher’s immediate direction, can
take the place of the many forms of meaningless “busy work” that a
misdirected ingenuity has devised for the purpose of keeping children
“still.”
DRAMATIZATION.
Another form to which the stories lend themselves readily is
dramatization. Children take intense delight in throwing striking
situations into dramatic form. This exercise also should be undirected.
If the story has not become crystallized into set phrases, this form of
reproduction becomes a genuine language exercise.
CONSTRUCTION.
In the foregoing we have examples of artistic creation. There is a
spontaneous impulse toward embodying in a suitable form the child’s
own imagery. This activity goes on for its own sake; it gives pleasure.
In construction proper, where direction is given and objects are made
from dictation to serve a useful purpose, we have activity passing over
into what is called work. This side should not be neglected. Children
are to live in a real world, where the purpose of activity is not
always in the activity itself but may lie in something external to it.
Things have to be made for certain definite purposes and because of
certain needs. These control the activity.
While it may be admitted that the stories do not form the ideal
connection for uniting such activity with the whole, yet, under present
conditions, they offer the only means practicable. Children will take a
deeper interest in making Red Riding Hood’s basket than in making one
that has not this ideal environment.
Attention is called to that excellent little manual, “Construction
Work,” by Worst, where measurements and directions can be found for the
construction of most of the familiar articles of the household.
FOOTNOTE:
[A] The Flanagan Chart Outfit is valuable for this purpose.
SIXTEEN STORIES
AND
HOW TO USE THEM.
THE SEVEN LITTLE GOATS.
I.
Preparation.
We are going to hear a story of a mother goat who left her seven little
ones at home while she went into the forest to get food for them.
Who has not seen a goat? What do we call a young goat? What kind of
food will the mother goat get?
Have you ever been left alone? Were you not told how to behave? What do
you suppose the mother goat told her little ones as she went away? Let
us hear.
Narration.
THE MOTHER GOAT.
Once there lived an old goat who had seven young ones. She loved them
as every mother loves her children. One day she wished to go into the
forest to get food for her children. So, calling them to her, she said:
“Dear children, I am going into the forest to get you something to eat.
Now be on your guard against the wolf; for, if he comes here, he will
eat you up. But you will know him by his rough voice and his black
feet.”
The little goats replied: “Dear mother, we will be very careful and pay
close attention to what you say. You need not be at all anxious about
us.” So the mother bleated a good-bye and ran off quite contented.
Model Treatment.
1. Why was the mother goat going to the forest?
About what animal did she tell them?
How were they to know him? Tell what the little goats said in reply.
Reproduction by the children.
2. Where have you seen a goat? What animal does the goat look like?
What does he eat? Where does he live? What kind of a voice has the
goat? What kind of feet has he?
Tell what you know about a forest? What is found in a forest?
3. Tell what the goat did that shows she was a kind and careful
mother? Who cares for you and gives you food and clothing and sends
you to school? What does your father do to help care for you? Your
mother?
Tell the promise the little goats made.
Tell how you think they acted.
II.
Preparation.
The story will now tell us how the wolf came and tried to get into the
house. How do you think he tried to get in?
Tell how he might get in.
Narration.
THE WOLF.
Not long after the mother had gone the little goats heard a knock at
the door, and pretty soon a deep, rough voice said: “Open the door, my
dear children; it is your mother. She has brought each of you something
to eat.” But the little goats cried out: “You are not our mother. You
have a great, rough voice. You are the wolf.”
So the wolf went to a shop near by where he bought some chalk. He ate
this and it made his voice soft and fine. Then he came back and knocked
again, and called out as softly as he could, “Open the door, dear
children; your mother has come from the forest and wants to get in.”
But the little goats were still afraid and said, “Put your feet on the
window-sill so that we can see them.” The wolf did so and they at once
cried out, “Oh! you are not our mother. You have black feet. You are
the wicked wolf.” So the wolf turned and went away.
Model Treatment.
1. What did the wolf say when he came the first time? How did the
goats know him? What did he do? How did the goats know him the second
time he came?
Reproduction of the story from the beginning.
2. Where does the wolf live? What kind of home has he? Is he a tame
animal? What kind of food does he eat? What animal does he look like?
Is his voice like the goat’s? Are their feet alike?
3. Have the little goats kept their promise to their mother? Do you
like the way they have acted? Do you like the way the wolf acted?
III.
Preparation.
The story now tells us how the wolf finally got into the house and what
he did there.
How do you think the wolf succeeded in deceiving the goats? How did he
change his voice? Do you wish to hear what the wolf next did?
What do you think he did? He made his voice soft and loving like that
of the mother goat. Do you think he could make his feet like hers? How
could he?
Let us hear what he did with his feet.
Narration.
THE WOLF IN THE HOUSE.
The wolf did not know now what to do. Presently he thought, “I will go
to the baker.” So to the baker he went and said, “I have hurt my feet;
put some dough on them.” The baker felt sorry for the wolf and put some
dough on his feet.
Then the wolf ran to the miller and in a rough voice said, “Strew some
white flour on my feet.” The miller, thinking the naughty wolf was
going to deceive some one, did not want to do it. But the wolf said,
“If you do not do so at once, I will eat you.” This made the miller
afraid. So he powdered the wolf’s feet with flour.
This done, the wolf went a third time to the door of the house and said
softly, “Open the door for me, dear children. It is your mother. I have
come back and brought each one of you something nice to eat.”
But the little goats still remembered what their mother had said and
called out, “Show us your feet and we shall know whether you are our
mother or not.” The wolf put his feet in the window as before. Now,
when the little goats saw that the feet were white, they thought that
it was really their dear mother and opened the door.
But who should walk in but the wicked wolf! The little goats were
terribly frightened and each one ran to hide himself as best he could.
One ran under the table, the second hid in the bed, a third jumped into
the oven, a fourth slipped into the cupboard, a fifth hid in the back
kitchen among the pots and pans, a sixth hid under the wash-tub, and
the seventh hid in the clock case. But the wolf found them all and ate
them one after the other,--all but the youngest that hid in the clock
case. He did not find him.
Then he said to himself, “Well, well! I am tired. I must have a nap.”
And he went out into the green meadow and lay down to sleep under a
tree by a little brook.
Model Treatment.
1. What did the wolf say to the baker? What to the miller? How were
the goats deceived? Where did each one hide? Which one was saved?
Reproduction from beginning.
2. Tell what the baker does? The miller? Have you seen a mill where
flour is made?
How is flour made? What grains are used to make flour? What grains
have you seen growing? What name do we give to the persons that raise
grain for us?
3. Tell why the baker put dough on the wolf’s feet? Why did the miller
put flour on? Had the wolf really hurt his feet? Describe the wolf’s
conduct. What do you think of him?
IV.
Preparation.
We shall next hear about the mother goat’s return and about how she
felt and what she did.
Tell what you think she did.
Can you think of any way she could get her dear children again?
Where did the wolf go? What did he do?
Narration.
THE MOTHER GOAT’S RETURN.
Well, it was not long before the mother goat came back from the forest
with the food for her children. When she came near the house, what a
sight met her eyes! The door stood wide open. The table, the chairs and
the benches were overturned. The dishes were broken. The quilts and
pillows were on the floor. She was amazed. She looked around, but not
one little goat could she see. She sought for them, but not one could
she find. She called each by his name, but no one answered.
Finally she heard a frightened little voice call out, “Dear mother,
here I am, hid in the clock case.” The mother goat opened the clock.
There, sure enough, was the youngest little goat. As soon as he could
speak, he told his mother what had happened and how the wicked wolf had
swallowed the other little goats.
The mother goat was so grieved at first that she could not think what
to do. But presently she ran out, followed by her youngest child. As
they came to the meadow they saw the wolf lying under the tree fast
asleep. Then the mother thought, “Perhaps my children are still alive.”
She sent the little goat to the house to fetch a pair of shears, a
needle, and some thread. She cut the wolf’s body open and one of the
little goats peeped out. As she cut farther, one after another the six
little goats jumped out. What joy there was! “Now, children,” said the
mother, “go fetch some stones.” With these she filled up the wolf’s
stomach. She then sewed up his body.