Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, one of the greatest musicians and composers

that ever lived, was born in Salzburg, Germany, January 27, 1756. His

father was a famous violinist. At the age of three little Wolfgang

loved to hear the playing of his sister Maria, who was just five

years older. At four he was able to play minuets and compose little

pieces. At five he played in public, and at six composed a difficult

concerto for a full orchestra. One day before he was seven, his father

was walking in the country with him when they came to a great church

which contained the largest organ Wolfgang had ever seen. “Father,

let me play it,” he said. Well pleased, his father began to blow the

bellows. Wolfgang pushed aside the high stool, stood upon the pedals,

and began playing. Softly at first the deep tones rose, awakening the

stillness of the old church, and then the strains swelled louder and

louder until all who heard marveled that a young child could play such

wonderful music. No wonder the father was proud of his two children.

No wonder the palaces of Europe were opened to them and that they were

petted, admired, and loaded with caresses and presents. The little

boy’s charming appearance and cheerful disposition endeared him to all.

So innocent and natural was his manner that at Vienna he sprang up

into the Empress’s lap and kissed her heartily. In another place when

he slipped upon the polished floor, Marie Antoinette lifted him up,

and he said, “You are very kind. When I grow up I will marry you.” He

always loved his father, and was always gentle and obedient, saying,

“Next after God is my father.” Though so modest, he played without fear

before kings.

Many musicians were jealous of his genius and said, “A trick is being

played on the people.” So one day he was invited to the house of a

famous musician to play before a number of great performers. The old

musician gave him the most difficult piece he had ever written, knowing

Mozart had never seen it, and to the wonder of all, he played it so

splendidly they were convinced of his great genius. But as the envy of

his enemies did not decrease, he was obliged to seek Italy to earn his

living. At Rome he went to the Sistine Chapel to hear the celebrated

“Miserere,” which, on returning home, he wrote down note by note--a

feat which created a great sensation, for the singers were forbidden to

transcribe the music on penalty of dismissal. So delighted was the pope

with him that he presented Mozart with the Order of the Golden Spur.

He played the harp, the organ, the violin, and every instrument in the

orchestra. He composed many operas as well as church music and concert

music. Perhaps the happiest part of his life was when he traveled with

his sister and his beloved father, revealing the wonders of his musical

genius to the great of the earth, not for money or fame, but for the

great pleasure he gave and received from his art.

One day a stranger called on him, requesting him to compose a requiem,

and offering to pay him for this in advance. Mozart worked hard at

it, but when the stranger returned it was not ready, and he paid the

musician some more money in advance for it. When the stranger called

the third time, Mozart was dead; and the requiem still unfinished. When

he died he was very poor, and the few friends he had, because it rained

on the day of his funeral, left him unattended, to be carried to his

grave in a potter’s field. Thus he, who had in his lifetime produced so

much wonderful music, was buried unhonored and unsung, without funeral

ceremony or acclaim. But to-day, not only in Germany but over all the

earth, the music of his immortal name is heard, and his praise is sung.

3. OLE BULL, VIOLINIST

In the quaint little town of Bergen, in Norway, February 5, 1810, was

born a boy, the eldest of ten children. His father was a chemist, and

his mother a noble, intelligent woman, and they both loved music.

Little Ole Bull would often crawl under the settee or sofa to listen

to the music when his relatives came to his home to sing and practise,

and he was often whipped, when discovered, for being so naughty. He

loved music, and when he was in the field, where he often played

alone, he thought he heard the music of the little bluebells swinging

in the wind, as he lay among the flowers. When he was four years old

his uncle gave him a yellow violin. He kissed it in his delight, and

began to learn the notes at the same time that he did his letters,

and although forbidden to play until after study hours, he often

forgot and was punished both at home and in school. When he was eight

years old a music-teacher was provided, and his father bought him a

new, red violin. That night Ole could not sleep. In his night-dress

he stole to the room where the violin lay, and because it was so red

and so pretty, and the pearl screws smiled at him, he just pinched

the strings, and when it smiled more and more, he had to try the bow,

and then he forgot that it was night and everybody asleep, so he

played, very softly at first, and then he kept on forgetting until

suddenly--crack went his father’s whip across Ole’s back, and the

little red violin fell to the floor and was broken. He said, “I wept

much for it, but it did no good, for the doctor never could make it

well.” But he kept on with his study, and in two years he began to

compose his own music, making his violin sing with the birds and brook,

the roar of the waterfall, the dripping of the rain, and the whispering

of the wind. When Ole was eighteen he went to the University at

Christiania, where he attracted the attention of one of the professors,

who encouraged him to give concerts and later aided him with money

to go to Paris. In that great city no one cared for this unknown

violinist, and he could not get a chance to play. One day when he had

but little money left, an old man who lived in the same house with him

advised the violinist to draw all his money out of the bank, pretending

that it was not safe there. Ole drew his money out, and that night the

old man stole all Ole’s money and clothes, leaving him penniless in

the strange city. In his distress he sought a new home in a house with

a card in the window, “Furnished Rooms to Let.” He went up the steps

and when the woman saw how ill and poor he looked, she said there was

no room. But her little granddaughter said, “Look at him, grandmamma.”

The old lady put on her glasses and saw he looked like her son who had

died, and so she took Ole in and nursed him tenderly through brain

fever. Later little Felice, the granddaughter, became Ole’s wife. A

nobleman asked him to play at a grand concert, where he earned three

hundred dollars. Then he took lessons of some great teachers and made

a tour of the world on which he received great sums for his playing.

In America his audiences went wild with delight. He used to visit the

asylums and hospitals and play for the inmates. All through his life

he tried to help others, not only with his music, but with his money.

His sweet wife and his beautiful children died, and he was left alone,

but he was never too sorrowful or too busy to help the most humble who

came to him. He died at his beautiful home near Bergen, Norway. At

his funeral the rich and great gathered to honor him, and after his

body was lowered into its flower-hung grave, the poor peasants came by

hundreds with their green boughs or sprigs of fern or wildflowers and

filled his grave with them--because they loved him!

4. LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, AUTHOR

Louisa May Alcott was born in Germantown, Pa., November 29, 1832.

Her father was a cultured school-teacher and her mother of an old

aristocratic family. Louisa was the eldest of four daughters, whose

happy life she pictures in “Little Women,” herself being “Jo.” She was

a wild, happy-hearted, enthusiastic girl, preferring whistling and

romping and boys’ games rather than girls’. Their home was frequently

visited by such literary people as Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorne, who

were her father’s friends. At eight years of age she wrote this poem of

eight lines:

Welcome, welcome, little stranger,

Fear no harm and fear no danger;

We are glad to see you here,

For you sing, “Sweet spring is near.”

Now the white snow melts away;

Now the flowers blossom gay.

Come, dear bird, and build your nest

For we love our robin best.

Her mother preserved this poem, and told her if she kept on she might

one day be a second Shakespeare. She was fond of telling fairy stories

to amuse her sisters and friends, and often turned the old tales into

little plays which the children acted in a barn. One of these plays

was “Jack and the Bean Stalk.” A squash vine, placed in the barn, was

the bean-stalk, and when it was cut down the boy who played Giant,

would come tumbling down from the hay-loft. At thirteen she wrote the

beautiful poem, “My Kingdom.” After she became a school-teacher she

was always helping somebody, taking care of an invalid or the poor,

or sewing to help her mother. She continued to write stories. Some of

the stories were rejected and the publisher advised her to stick to

her school-teaching. Returning from the Civil War, where she had been

a valued nurse to the wounded soldiers, she presented, through her

father, several short stories to a publisher, who rejected them, with

the advice that she write a story for girls. She thought she could not

do that, and wrote “Little Women” to prove that she could not, but it

is perhaps the best-loved girls’ story ever written. Then she wrote

“Little Men,” of which fifty thousand copies were ordered before it was

printed. She received one hundred thousand dollars for her books. Her

life-desire was now realized in having money enough to make her family

comfortable. Her father died in 1888, and she followed him only three

days after. Miss Louisa May Alcott, besides being a writer, was also an

earnest advocate of woman suffrage and temperance.

5. ROSA BONHEUR, PAINTER

Rosa was born in poverty. Her father, an artist too, was compelled to

give drawing lessons, and her mother had to go from house to house

teaching music to assist in supporting their four children. Her mother

dying when Rosa was twelve years old, and her father marrying again,

the gifted girl was sent away to school where she spent most of her

time in drawing funny pictures of her teachers. Later her father taught

her to copy the old masters in the Louvre. When she was seventeen she

determined her life-work--animal painting; but being too poor to buy

models, she would take long walks into the country to study and draw

living animals, and later on kept a sheep on her roof-garden for a

model. At nineteen she sent two pictures to the Fine Arts Exposition,

“Goat and Sheep” and “Two Rabbits,” and others soon followed. When her

father died she took his place as Director of the School of Design for

Girls, and her sister, Juliette, became a teacher in the same school.

She studied eighteen months before painting “The Horse Fair,” which

famous picture was purchased in England for eight thousand dollars,

and later by A. T. Stewart, of New York, and is now in his collection

in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Landseer, the great English artist,

said of her “Horse Fair,” “It surpasses me, although it’s a little

hard to be beaten by a woman.” When at her work Rosa Bonheur often

dressed in male attire with a large, white collar. She was always busy,

cheerful, and generous. Her pictures brought her large sums, which she

spent not only in providing for her family and old servants, but in

generously assisting poor students. She had one of the most beautiful

studios in Paris. When Prussia conquered France the Prussian soldiers

were ordered not to disturb Rosa Bonheur or her servants. The poor

idolized this wonderful woman, for she always loved them. She died at

her home May 25, 1899. But through her wonderful works she still helps

us to see the beauty of common things and to feel the poetry in what

might seem the drudgery of life.

6. JENNY LIND, SINGER

Jenny Lind, the “Swedish nightingale,” fills a place all her own among

the world’s great artists of song. Gifted in voice, beautiful in face,

lovely in character, a princess among givers, the guardian angel of the

poor and unfortunate, she was for many years the idol of all classes of

people, adored not simply for her talent, but also as one of the most

perfect of women. She was born in Stockholm, Sweden, October 6, 1820.

Her father was a good-natured man, who enjoyed song, but he was unable

to provide for his family. Her mother was a woman of determination, who

helped care for the family by teaching school. When very small Jenny

showed a love for the singing of birds, and often when she sang to her

pet cat, as it sat with a blue ribbon around its neck in the window,

people in the street used to listen and wonder. One day a lady heard

the child’s voice, and said, “She is a genius; she must be trained.”

At nine she sang before the music-master of the Royal Theater, and he

was moved to tears and at once accepted her, and for ten years she was

educated in singing and elocution at the expense of the government

of Sweden. Jenny began to act and sing in the Royal Theater at ten,

and sang and played continuously until she was twenty. From twelve to

fifteen she sang in concerts, and the Swedish people became very proud

of her. At twenty she was made a member of the Royal Swedish Academy of

Music, and was appointed court singer. The progress in her art led her

to devote four hours or more daily for almost a year in practising the

scales and exercises under a great teacher in Paris. Then she began to

travel through Europe, singing before kings, nobles, and distinguished

people, and to crowded audiences who hailed her as “the first singer

of the world,” and paid enormous prices to hear her. At last she

consented to sing in the United States. When she arrived at New York

thousands were on the dock eager to catch a glimpse of her. Triumphal

arches surmounted by eagles bore the inscription, “Welcome, Jenny Lind.

Welcome to America!” At the first concert, where thousands listened

enchanted to her in Castle Garden in New York, some persons paid as

high as six hundred and fifty dollars for a single ticket. Jenny

Lind’s share for this one concert was nearly ten thousand dollars. She

immediately sent for the mayor of the city and distributed the whole

amount among charitable institutions. Throughout her life she felt that

the money she earned was only hers in trust, as well as her voice. She

said: “It is a great joy and a gift from God to be allowed to earn so

much money and afterward to help one’s fellow men with it. This is the

highest joy I wish for in life.” Everywhere she gave benefit concerts

for charitable institutions or for individuals in need. In New York

alone she gave away forty thousand dollars in charities. When warned

against so much liberality, as some unworthy persons would seek aid,

she always replied, “Never mind, if I assist ten and one is worthy,

I am satisfied.” At thirty-one she married Mr. Otto Goldschmidt,

of Hamburg, an accomplished musician, and they secured a beautiful

residence in England, where they lived most happily for many years,

until her death, November 2, 1887, at the age of sixty-seven. Queen

Victoria, who had often heard her sing and who greatly honored her,

sent a wreath of beautiful white flowers.

Mendelssohn said of her, “I never met so noble, so true, and real an

art nature as Jenny Lind.” N. P. Willis said: “To give away more

money in charity than any other mortal; to be humble, simple, genial,

unassuming, and still be the first of prima donnas; to have begun as a

beggar girl and risen to receive more honor than a queen, this is the

combination that makes the wonder of a dozen heroines in one single

girl.”

7. LINCOLN, EMANCIPATION PRESIDENT

When the Hall of Fame was opened in New York City, George Washington

was found to have the votes of one hundred per cent of the electors,

and Abraham Lincoln came next with ninety-nine per cent. Lincoln, the

great emancipator of four million slaves, and the preserver of the

nation’s unity, came next to Washington, the Father and first President

of his country. In Harden, now Larue County, Ky., February 12, 1809,

he was born and grew up in such poverty as few boys have ever known.

His mother died when the little fellow was very young, so that not

until little Abe was seven years old, and his stepmother, a woman of

energy and intelligence, took charge of the desolate household, did

the shaggy-headed, ragged, barefoot, forlorn lad begin “to feel like a

human being.” From the time he could hold an axe in his little hand he

was expected to work. His father was a lazy, shiftless, “poor Southern

white,” which is the last word in unthrift. He hired out Abe to the

neighbors to plow, dig ditches, chop wood, drive oxen, and “tend the

baby” when a farmer’s wife was busy, keeping all the scanty wages Abe

earned and growling because the lad loved to read when he had finished

his work. Often he came home at night all aching with cold and wet,

not to lounge at leisure as other boys, but while his parents slept,

he rolled another log on the fire to give him light, or by the aid

of a pine-knot stuck in the wall to light the dingy cabin, he read

such books as he could borrow. When sixteen years old, besides being

a rail-splitter and teamster, he was earning six dollars a month by

managing a ferryboat across the Ohio River. Perhaps the turning-point

in his life came when he found two old law-books that had been thrown

away with some rubbish he was hauling. He read these books and stored

up the information they gave. His wide reading enabled him later to

speak eloquently, especially against the slave-trade which he hated.

One day, passing through the great slave-market of New Orleans, and

seeing a girl being auctioned from the slave-block, his soul was so

kindled that he decided then and there, “I’ll knock that thing hard, if

I ever get a chance.” And he did. He was tender-hearted, and nothing

aroused him more than to see a helpless animal or person mistreated.

He was six feet four inches tall, awkward and homely in countenance,

very powerful, a famous wrestler, but he was never known to use his

strength for his own benefit, and while he whipped the bullies that

made him fight, he never picked a quarrel in his life. He served as

captain in the Black Hawk war, and at the age of twenty-two ran for the

legislature and was defeated. He ran a country store in Springfield,

Ill., and failed, but he paid up the last dollar, although this took

him fourteen years to do. He studied law and became a leading lawyer,

admired for his honesty as well as industry. He stood always for peace

if possible, and often persuaded his clients to make up their quarrel

in his office instead of going to law. While he was an attorney,

feeling that his lack of education put him at a disadvantage with

Eastern men who, educated and trained in great colleges, were coming

West, he determined “to be ready for them,” and so undertook a home

course of study in mathematics, logic, and literature. It was hard

work, but he won. He was elected to the Legislature of Illinois, sent

to Congress at Washington, became the leader of the Republican party,

and in 1860 was elected President of the nation. During the terrible

years of the Civil War his hand guided the torn and distracted

country out of the cyclone of hatred and bloodshed into peace and

prosperity. Few souls in history have had fiercer trials than those

through which he passed. His friends grew impatient and found fault,

his enemies jeered, his closest followers doubted, but he could neither

be hurried, delayed, nor swerved from the cause of right he had laid

out for himself. His patience, self-possession, resources, tact,

large-heartedness, and faith in God never failed him.

On January 1, 1863, President Lincoln signed the Proclamation of

Emancipation, and by his stroke of the pen set four million human

beings free. No wonder that in many churches in the United States, as

well as in England, Christian people sang “The year of jubilee is come!”

In spite of his lack of early education, his speeches and documents

are among the finest in our history. His Gettysburg address every boy

should know. In his second inaugural address this sentence occurs:

“With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the

right as God gives us to see the right, let us finish the work we are

in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have

borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphans, to do all which

may achieve and cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves and

with all nations.”

Just as he was about to enjoy the hard-won victory of peace, an insane

assassin laid low the great emancipator, “a sacrifice upon the altar

of Freedom.” He died April 15, 1865, sincerely mourned by “the boys in

blue” and “the boys in gray” and the States of the nation that he had

saved in union.

Abraham Lincoln will always rank as one of the greatest presidents,

and, as the years roll on, his place in the affection and reverence of

his countrymen becomes more secure. James Russell Lowell wrote this

fitting tribute to him:

Our children shall behold his fame,

The kindly, earnest, brave, far-seeing man,

Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame,

New birth of our new soil, the first American.

8. HORACE GREELEY, EDITOR

Horace Greeley was born February 11, 1811, on a small stony farm in

New Hampshire, in a lonely, unpainted house. His parents were very

poor, being unable to feed and clothe and educate their family of seven

children, of whom Horace was the third. His mother, a bright, cheerful,

laughing woman, loved to tell her children stories. When Horace was two

years old he would lie on the floor and look at the words in the Bible

and ask about the letters. At three he went to school, and very soon

learned to read and to spell wonderfully. Before he was six he had read

the Bible, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and every book he could borrow. He

would lie before the fireplace after a hard day’s work on the farm and

read by the light of a pine-knot. When he went to bed, he would tell

his brother what he had been reading or studying, but his brother would

fall asleep while Horace was talking.

When he was thirteen the school-teacher said to Horace’s father, “Mr.

Greeley, your boy knows more than I do. It is no use to send him to

school any more.” He had always wanted to be a printer. One day he

walked twelve miles and was given a trial in a printer’s office. He

learned more in a day than most boys do in a month. The other boys

joked him. They threw ink and type at him. Because Horace’s hair was

light, they got the ink-ball and stained it black. Everybody looked

for a fight, but he good-naturedly washed the ink from his hair, and

became the favorite of all. During the four years he spent learning

his trade he visited his home twice, walking most of the six hundred

miles each way. Later he trudged all the way on foot to New York,

walking along the canal-path, and arrived there with all his clothes

in a bundle carried over his back with a stick, and with but ten

dollars in his pocket. Soon he started the printing of several cheap

newspapers, but he lost money on each of these until, on borrowed

money, he started the New York Tribune, which has been increasingly

successful to the present time. His income from the Tribune was

long above fifteen thousand dollars a year, frequently as much as

thirty-five thousand dollars or more. Subscriptions for his paper were

found in all the North from Maine to Oregon, large packages going to

remote rural districts, and everywhere a personal affection for the

editor was felt. In his editorials he advocated from time to time such

doctrines as protective tariff, national cooperation for the elevation

of labor, total abstinence from intoxicating liquors, and above all,

antislavery. He was elected to Congress, and while there introduced the

first bill for giving small tracts of government land free to actual

settlers. He wrote books, visited Europe, and traveled through America

to California. On his return he wrote, “Go West, young man!” He helped

to nominate Lincoln for president, and later was himself nominated

for president, being defeated by Grant by more than one-half million

majority. One month after this great defeat his wife died, and soon

after he was attacked with brain fever and died November 29, 1872, aged

sixty-one years. Through life his personal peculiarities, careless

dress, and independent manners, had brought upon him endless ridicule,

but his death revealed his high position as a leader of opinion and, as

Whittier called him, “our later Franklin.”

9. AUDUBON, NATURALIST

Every boy who loves out-of-door life should know the story of John

James Audubon. He was born on a farm in Louisiana, May 4, 1780. His

parents were French and when very young he was taken to France where he

attended school. His favorite study was of animals and birds. He often

roamed the woods, bringing home birds’ nests and eggs, curious rocks,

and bits of moss. His father bought him a picture-book of birds. The

delighted boy painted these copies, but saw they were not like real

birds. Later he took lessons of the great French painter, David, who

taught him to draw and paint things as they are. Returning to America,

his father gave him a large farm in Pennsylvania where his studies of

birds led him to decide to write a book on bird life, and illustrate

it by his own drawings. This was a great task, but when this young man

decided to do anything he never allowed difficulties to stand in his

way. So he began his work and studied and painted year after year.

He had to live much of the time in the woods, studying how the birds

lived and built their nests. Sometimes he went by boat down the river;

sometimes he went on horseback. Often he tramped alone through the

trackless woods. Many nights he slept out-of-doors. He lost all his

money and was obliged to stop his work and paint portraits and sell his

choice drawings for a living. His heroic wife took up school-teaching

to help him out with his work. One day while traveling he left his

paintings of nearly a thousand birds in a wooden box in the home of

a friend. Two months later, when he returned and opened the box, he

found two large rats had got into the box and cut up all the paintings

with their sharp teeth, making a nest for their young among the gnawed

pieces. He said, “I will make better paintings!” It took him four

long years to complete his pictures, but at last the great book was

completed and published and praised throughout France, England, and the

United States.

The Society for the Protection of Our Feathered Friends was organized

by this great naturalist, who spent the rest of his life for this great

object. At present there are few places where boys and girls have not

heard of Audubon. He died at his beautiful home on the Hudson River,

greatly honored and beloved in France, England, and the United States.

10. EDISON, WIZARD OF ELECTRICITY

Thomas Alva Edison, the “Wizard of Electricity,” was born in Milan,

Ohio, February 11, 1847. His birthplace was located on the canal.

As there were no railways, it was a very busy little place. Edison

used to spend all his playtime at the shops where the canal-boats

were built, learning all about the tools being used. Thus before he

was seven he began to show his love of machinery. When he was seven

years old his parents removed to Michigan. Edison was already well

advanced in education for a boy of his age, for his mother had been

his careful teacher and companion. They had read and discussed many

books together, especially history, of which he was very fond. Two or

three books on electricity had come into his hands and these he read

with great interest. As his father was poor, it became necessary, when

Thomas was eleven years of age, for him to earn his own living. He

applied for a position as newsboy on the Grand Trunk Railroad, and he

was soon making from four to five dollars a day. When the Civil War

broke out his earnings so greatly increased that he hired another boy,

and had a place fixed up in an express car, in which he placed a small

printing-press and began to publish a paper of his own. He gathered

his news on the train and from agents on the route, often securing the

latest news being telegraphed to the great papers. His papers had a

good sale. Stevenson, the great English engineer, was so pleased with

a copy he bought on the train, and with its editor, that he took one

thousand copies, and thus the _Weekly_ and its editor became known and

quoted in England. He was reading, studying, and experimenting every

moment he could get from his work. But he experimented once too often

when a bottle of phosphorus was jerked out of his hand by the jolting

of the train and instantly the car was in flames. The conductor helped

put out the fire and then deposited the youthful inventor, with his

printing-press, on the platform of the next station. This ended his

laboratory on the train, but he still continued his work, and coaxed

his father to let him fit up a workshop at home, where he experimented

with telegraph instruments, stringing wires on trees, insulating them

with old bottles, and teaching his boy friends the mystery of their

use. He was anxious to learn telegraphy, which he succeeded in doing,

being taught by a telegraph-operator whose little child Thomas had

saved from being killed by a freight-train at the risk of his own life.

He soon secured a night operator’s position, but instead of sleeping in

the daytime, young Edison spent his days experimenting, and so was too

sleepy at night to do his work well. He lost several night positions,

but soon got day-work and continued his experiments. He went from city

to city, but he cared more for the wonders of electricity than the

routine of office work, though his work was always accurate. In Boston

he chanced to buy Faraday’s book on electricity, and at once decided

that life was short, and he had so much to do that he must hustle--and

he has been hustling ever since.

His first invention was an automatic repeater by which messages could

be transmitted without the presence of the operator. Since then his

inventions have been many and important, among them the quadruplex

telegraph, the printing telegraph, the megaphone, the aerophone,

the phonograph, the moving-picture machine, the storage battery,

the incandescent lamp and light system, and the kinetoscope. He has

received patents for more than seven hundred inventions by which daily

life has been made more attractive. Thomas Alva Edison is the foremost

genius of his day, and the modern magician who has made “the fairy

tales of science” as fascinating as “Aladdin’s Wonderful Lamp,” or

“Boots and His Brothers.”

11. BURBANK, FAIRY GODFATHER OF THE ORCHARDS

This is the story of a boy with a magic wand who has made everything

he touched more beautiful and more useful. Even when a little baby, he

would hold flowers in his hands for hours, never harming them. He loved

flowers best of all--better than pets or animals or playthings; better

than anything else in the world except his dear mother with her loving,

smiling eyes. He and his mother were chums. His father loved books, but

his mother loved flowers. While Luther Burbank loved beautiful thoughts

from books, like his father, the flowers, trees, and plants that his

mother loved, attracted him to the fields and orchards. All the time

he longed to help nature. He wondered if he could make weeds useful

and make more and better potatoes grow in each hill. He planted the

potato-seed ball, watched it, picked it up when the dog knocked it down

and, after a great deal of work he had the delicious Burbank potato.

Then, taking the little field-daisy that he found growing by the

roadside, he sent to Japan for daisies from that land, and planted the

two together. The bees carried the pollen from one flower to another,

and after a long time there was the beautiful Shasta Daisy, which is

named for Mount Shasta that is within sight of Mr. Burbank’s home.

He is the fairy godfather of the orchards, for he waves his magic wand,

and year after year his trees bear finer fruit--sweeter oranges, better

plums, larger apricots; and the world is richer for his work.

He teaches the men who help him his magic. They grow tender-eyed, and

their fingers are quick and gentle as they plant the tiny seeds, set

the tender grafts, and nurse the little frail flower-stalks. He is now

a rich man, but he was not always so. When he first left his home in

Massachusetts to go to California, he could get no work, and he was

often hungry. At last he got a place in a hothouse doing the work he

loved--tending flowers and plants. But the poor boy had no money for a

room, and had to sleep in the plant-house. But this place was so damp

he grew ill, and a poor woman, seeing that he was ill because he did

not have the right kind of food, made him drink a pint of milk from

her one cow every day. Luther was afraid he might never be able to pay

her back, but when he got better and was able to work he paid the good

woman for the milk.

When people saw what a wonderful boy Luther Burbank really was, he

had more than he could do. He saved his money, bought a little farm,

and began to invent wonderful ways of doing things. Later he bought a

great nursery, where he loved to experiment with plants and berries and

vegetables. He took the prickly, ugly cactus growing in the desert,

scratching the hands and tearing the clothes, and caused it to shed its

thorns and to put forth flowers and fruit that is good for man and

beast. No wonder he is called the “Fairy Godfather of the Orchards,”

this man with the smiling blue eyes, loving boys and girls next after

the flowers, and loving his mother best of all. What is the magic wand

of the “Flower Magician”? It is “Patient Toil”!

12. MARY LYON, EDUCATOR

Girls who appreciate the possibility of the higher education of women

in America will hold the name of Mary Lyon in high esteem. She was

born on a stony Massachusetts farm, February 28, 1797. She was not

pretty, but her face was bright and intelligent, and her spirit was

proud, energetic, and helpful. She loved to devise ways by which she

could do the largest amount of work in the shortest time. One day she

said, “Mother, I have found a way to make time.” At school she showed

a wonderfully retentive memory. When Mary was still young, her father

died, leaving the family quite poor. But Mary’s mother with energy,

prudence, and cheerfulness, managed the little farm so as to keep her

children together. Her flowers were the sweetest anywhere. She always

found time to do many kind deeds for her neighbors. Struggling against

poverty, Mary taught school for almost nothing; spun and wove her own

clothes; and studied hard. Her friends thought her foolish to try and

learn so much, saying she could never use it. But deep down in her

heart she felt she was to lift the world toward the higher education of

woman. So she toiled on for years amid hardship, disappointment, and

opposition, for neither the men nor the women of that day approved of

women being educated or speaking in public. When she solicited funds

for her college her friends thought she was unwomanly and a disgrace to

her sex. But her earnest, unselfish, persistent spirit won friends for

her cause, and on October 3, 1836, Mount Holyoke Seminary, the first

school in America for the higher education of women, was founded. She

was at the head of it until her death. Her influence over the young

ladies was wonderful. She was firm but kind, always expecting them to

do right without rules. She was greatly beloved. When she died she was

buried in the seminary grounds and a beautiful marble tablet stands

over her honored grave, on one side of which are the words:

Mary Lyon, the Founder of Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, and for

twelve years its Principal; a Teacher for more than thirty-five

years and of more than three thousand pupils. Born Feb. 28, 1797;

Died March 5, 1849.

After her death a paper was found containing seven ways of wasting

time, against which she guarded, as follows:

1. Indefinite musings.

2. Anticipating needlessly.

3. Needless speculations.

4. Reluctance to begin a duty.

5. Not deciding at once in doubtful cases.

6. Musing needlessly on what has been said or done, or what may be.

7. Spending time in reveries which should be spent in prayer.

13. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE, NURSE

Florence Nightingale was born in Florence, Italy, in 1820. She was the

daughter of an English landowner, who lived on a picturesque estate in

Derbyshire, and who gave her the best education she could secure from

books, school, and travel. As a little girl she showed great interest

in the poor and sick, and was kind to animals. Even the squirrels

on the lawn made friends with her. Often as she sat at her father’s

table with all the good things to eat and the beautiful silver, glass,

and china before her, she would think of the poor and sick who were

without even an orange to quench the thirst of fever. Frequently she

drove with her father’s physician into the country, taking baskets

filled with dainties, often denying herself something that she might

share with others. Everybody loved to have her enter the sickroom, for

her unselfish and helpful nature made her a tender nurse. Until then,

nurses were taken from the same class of women as ordinary domestic

servants. Few realized that nursing was an art to be learned, requiring

intelligence, knowledge, and skill, as well as sympathy and love. But

the devotion of Florence Nightingale changed all this. She was an

accomplished young lady, possessing abundant wealth. She was happy at

home, a general favorite, and the center of an admiring circle. She was

favored with everything that might have made her social and domestic

life full of attractiveness to most young women. But she turned her

back on the gay world that opened to her to tread a path that led to

suffering and sorrow. She went to Germany to take training as a nurse,

beginning at the very start. She learned the use of the washing-cloth,

the scrubbing-brush, and the duster. For three months she was in daily

and nightly attendance on the sick in the German hospital. Returning

to England she gave her time, strength, and means to nursing her

sisters in the Hospital for Sick Governesses in London. Here her health

began to fail, and she returned home to seek the needed rest in her

father’s home of wealth. But a new cry arose for help. The Crimean

war was raging. There was a great want of skilled nurses to relieve

the dreadful sufferings of the wounded soldiers who were lying in the

hospitals. She at once offered her services to her country, and was

sent, with thirty-four other women nurses, reaching Russia on the day

of the fearful battle of Inkerman, November 5, 1854. The hospitals

were filled with sick and wounded soldiers--four thousand suffering

from cholera and other horrors that war brings. Miss Nightingale met

the wounded and dying with smiles and words of cheer. Many of the sick

wept for joy at the first touch of a woman’s hand they had felt for

years. She seemed to be everywhere, superintending the washing of their

clothing, and beds, cooking their food, assisting the chaplain with

his school, furnishing books for the soldiers to read, writing their

letters, saving their money, or sending it to their relatives at home.

How the soldiers loved her! Many of them whom she could not personally

tend kissed her very shadow as it fell on their pillows, as she passed

at night. They called her the “Lady of the Lamp.”

He sleeps! Who o’er his placid slumber bends?

His foes are gone; and here he hath no friends.

Is it some seraph sent to grant him grace?

No! ’Tis an earthly form with human face!

Returning to England at the close of the war she was invited to

Balmoral Castle by Queen Victoria, who gave her a beautiful jewel, an

emblem of her work, with the inscription, “Blessed are the Merciful,”

engraved on one side, surmounted by a crown of diamonds. The English

Government gave her two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which she

used in founding “The Nightingale School of Nurses” in London. The

English soldiers wanted to erect a statue of her in London, and each

promised to give one penny for it, thinking she could not object to a

gift so small from each grateful giver; but she refused to let them do

it, telling them that it would please her more if they would give the

money to the hospitals. She left a record of unselfish devotion to

duty which has enriched the world. She died in 1910, full of years and

honors.

On England’s annals, through the long

Hereafter of her speech and song,

That light its rays shall cast

From portals of the past.

A Lady with a Lamp shall stand

In the great history of the land,

A noble type of good,

Heroic womanhood.

--_Longfellow, “Santa Filomena”_

14. FRANCES E. WILLARD, REFORMER

Frances E. Willard was born in Churchville, near Rochester, N. Y. When

she was two years old her family moved to Oberlin, Ohio, and when she

was five, to the beautiful farm in Wisconsin, “Forest Home.” Here she

spent her girlhood, working and playing in the fields with her only

brother and sister Mary. Her father promised each of the children a

library if they would not use coffee or tea until they were twenty-one.

They gladly complied with this condition, because each of them had

a great thirst for knowledge. Frances wrote stories, plays, poems,

and essays at an early age, and at sixteen she won a prize for an

essay on “Country Houses.” At eighteen she entered Milwaukee College,

but with the removal of the family to Evanston, Ill., she entered

Northwestern University, graduating with honors. She first taught a

country school, then became teacher in her alma mater, then a teacher

in Pittsburg Female Seminary, and later preceptress in the Genesee

Wesleyan Seminary, at Lima, N. Y. After a short time of travel in

Europe studying widely and writing for American magazines, she made so

deep an impression in an address delivered at a woman’s missionary

meeting, that she was urged to become a lecturer, which she did with

great success. In 1871 she was elected president of the woman’s college

of her alma mater, and two years later she became dean of the college

and professor of esthetics in the Northwestern University. In 1873 she

gave up her college work to organize the Woman’s Christian Temperance

Union of America, and to begin her twelve years’ campaign with lectures

before four thousand audiences. She was largely instrumental in

securing the enactment of laws in many States of the Union to introduce

physiological temperance and the scientific study of stimulants and

narcotics into the curriculum of the public schools. For years she was

misunderstood; often bitterly criticized, despised, and scorned. But

at last she triumphed! Distinguished philanthropists, reformers, and

citizens of England assembled in the City Temple of London to give her

a reception, and heaped upon her the highest honors, which she modestly

received in the name of the women of America. Beginning with nothing,

in twenty years, single-handed, this noble woman organized the women

of her country into a vast army that extends to village and city, and

State and nation, and to foreign lands, with vast equipment of more

than sixty departments and methods of activity for public agitation,

a system of temperance journals for children and youth for securing

instruction in the public schools upon the nature of stimulants. It

is said Frances Willard was a woman without a fault. Not only in

temperance, but in every good work, did she work for the redemption of

humanity. In an article to girls, she wrote: “Keep to your specialty,

whether it is raising turnips, or painting screens or battle scenes,

studying political economy or domestic receipts. Have a resolute aim.

If I were asked the mission of the ideal woman, I would reply, ‘It is

to make the whole world homelike!’”

15. LIVINGSTONE, MISSIONARY-EXPLORER

David Livingstone was born in Blantyre, Scotland, March 19, 1813. His

father was a traveling tea-merchant who often acted as a colporter,

distributing tracts, and showing a true missionary spirit. His mother

was an active, sunny, loving woman. His home, enriched by little beyond

the bare necessities of life, was happy and brightened by industry,

cheerfulness, love for one another, and faith in God. He was a good boy

to his mother, often helping her sweep and even scrub, “if she would

bolt the door so none of the boys would see him,” because in Scotland

it was thought beneath a man’s dignity to “help the women-folk.” It

was the proud boast of his mother that in his sweeping, “he even swept

under the door-mat.” He loved to climb the hills of beautiful Scotland,

gathering wildflowers, curious stones, and mineral specimens. One day

he climbed the highest tower in the ruins of Bothwell Castle and carved

his name above those of the other boys. When he was ten he was sent to

work as a piecer in a cotton-factory. With a part of his first week’s

wages he purchased a Latin grammar. Although working from six in the

morning until eight at night, he attended night-school from eight to

ten, learning Latin and the sciences. At the age of sixteen he was

familiar with Virgil and Horace and other classical authors. In his

thirst for knowledge he placed his book on the spinning-jenny where

he could read it as he walked back and forth at his work. When he was

nineteen he gave up his work in the winter months to attend Glasgow

University, where he studied Greek, medicine, and theology. He became

deeply interested in missionary work and desired to go to China, but

Dr. Robert Moffat persuaded him to go to Africa by telling him that “on

a clear morning could be seen the smoke of a thousand villages where no

missionary had ever been.” So, in December, 1840, he began the long,

five-months’ trip to the far-off African coast, studying the stars and

taking observations by them, which experience was of great value to him

later when in Africa he was deserted by his guides and had to blaze his

own trail. He traveled inland, first learning the language and then

preaching, healing, and teaching. In the forest one day he shot at a

lion which sprang upon him, caught him by the shoulder, shook him as a

terrier dog does a rat, crushed his arm, and would have ended his life

at once if one of the natives had not appeared and quickly shot the

lion dead. In 1844 David Livingstone married the daughter of Doctor

Moffat. He went back to Scotland several times, where he wrote many

books, one of which made him rich; but he used his wealth in further

work of discovery and the suppression of the slave-trade. In 1863 he

set out on his long search for the source of the Nile, and for seven

long years amid sufferings, massacres, atrocities, disappointments, he

traveled through the jungles of the black continent, until one day, in

1871, Henry M. Stanley, sent out by the New York _Herald_, appeared,

“almost as an angel from heaven.” Stanley, who lived with him in the

same house, boat, and tent for four months, said, “I never found a

fault in him.” Stanley urged him to return, but Livingstone felt his

task was unfinished, and so plunged again into the work, writing to the

New York _Herald_: “All I can add in my loneliness is, may heaven’s

rich blessing come down on every one, American, English, or Turk,

who will help to heal the open sore of the world”--meaning the awful

slave-traffic. Not long after, an attack of pneumonia made him so weak

that he had to be carried to a hut, where his servants left him for

the night. About four o’clock in the morning the boy who lay at the

door keeping watch called in alarm. By the light of the candle still

burning they saw him upon his knees by his bedside, as if in prayer.

Then they knew that he had gone on his last journey, and without a

single attendant. Lovingly his devoted servants embalmed his body and

sent it to England to be buried in Westminster Abbey with the great of

the earth. But his heart they buried by Lake Banguilo, in the land for

whose people he had toiled so long, and for whom he gave up his life.

On April 18, 1874, the great missionary-explorer was laid in his grave

in Westminster Abbey, with sorrow and yet with rejoicing, for they knew

well that his life had not been lived in vain.

Open the abbey doors and bear him in

To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage--

The missionary, come of weaver kin,

But great by work that brooks no lower wage.

He needs no epitaph to guard a name

Which men shall prize while worthy work is known;

He lived and died for good--be that his fame;

Let marble crumble--this is Living-stone!

16. SPURGEON, PREACHER

The life-story of Charles Haddon Spurgeon is an epic of accomplishment.

The eldest of a family of seventeen children--a true Rooseveltian

family--he was born June 19, 1834, to Rev. John Spurgeon, minister

of the Congregational Church at Kilvedon, Essex County, England, and

his wife, formerly Miss Jarvis. Both parents were earnest, devout,

intellectual people who gave their children all that was possible to

provide on a very small salary. At an early age he went to live in the

home of his grandfather, also a Congregational minister. One day a

visiting minister, struck with the boy’s ability and character, said,

“This lad will preach the gospel to thousands.” Having received a good

education at a private academy at Colchester, at fifteen he became an

assistant school-teacher. One Sunday, when he was sixteen, he visited a

little Methodist church and heard a sermon on the text, “Look unto me

and be ye saved.” This sermon led to his conversion. He said, “I had

been waiting to do fifty things, but when I heard the word ‘Look!’ what

a charming word it seemed to me.” At seventeen he became a teacher in a

classical school in Cambridge, and was often in demand for addresses to

Sunday-school children. At eighteen he was known as the “boy preacher,”

and became minister of the Baptist Church at Waterbeach, five miles

from Cambridge, on an annual salary of two hundred dollars. This young

school-teacher also preached at thirteen village stations maintained by

his little church. An address at a Sunday-school anniversary was heard

by a stranger, who was so much impressed by it that he recommended

this young man as the pastor of a famous Baptist church in London,

to which he was called at the age of nineteen. He was so eloquent,

persuasive, straightforward, that he won the hearts of his hearers, and

soon all London and England was talking of the youthful Whitefield.

Within a year the church building had to be enlarged and overflowing

congregations came to hear him in the great Exeter Hall. Then the

enlarged church proved much too small to accommodate the crowds who

flocked to hear him. The Music Hall of Surrey Gardens, an immense

building, was rented, and it was a common thing for him to preach to

ten thousand people at one service. He was ridiculed and caricatured

in merciless ways by newspapers, ministers, and others, but his motto

was, “Drive On! Drive On!” And in his simple and earnest preaching he

drove on. In 1861 the great, classic Metropolitan Tabernacle was opened

for services. It cost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and seats

five thousand five hundred persons, with standing room for almost one

thousand more. For thirty years, or until his death, he preached in

the great building with every seat and all the available standing-room

occupied. His congregation included all classes--professional men,

tradesmen, dock-hands, soldiers in their bright-red uniforms, men

and women of title, the poor outcast with the shawl over her head,

the blear-eyed drunkard, Chinamen and bronzed Indiamen, and visitors

from America and other lands--all hanging on the words of this most

popular preacher of the world. In appearance he was not a prepossessing

man. He was below the medium height, stout, his short hair brushed

back from a low forehead, small eyes, heavy lips, fat cheeks hanging

over a heavy jaw fringed with a short beard. He looked like a plain,

every-day business man. Instead of a white cravat he wore a little

black tie. His voice was remarkable for its sweetness and purity, as

well as its penetrating power. His language was simple, but a massive

grandeur accompanied his simplicity of speech, which captivated every

listener. There was also a peculiar directness of address that made

every hearer feel that he was the person spoken to as a member of a

family entering into confidence with the father of the household.

Besides being “England’s greatest preacher,” as an archdeacon of

Saint Paul’s Cathedral called him, he was a great philanthropist,

commentator, administrator, lecturer, and writer. An orphanage for boys

was begun in 1867, and one for girls in 1880, at Stockwell, London.

In these orphanages five or six hundred father-less children, from

six to ten years, find a comfortable home and training until they

are fourteen. People of wealth entrusted to him large gifts of money

for this philanthropic work, because they had perfect confidence

in whatever he undertook. He built a Pastor’s College, where poor

young men could receive proper training for their work as ministers

or missionaries. He also edited a monthly magazine, “The Sword and

Trowel”; wrote commentaries; organized a colportage association; and

encouraged his wife’s “Book Fund” to provide free gifts of books for

poor pastors. He wrote and published thirty-seven volumes of sermons

and numberless tracts. He loved to give away Bibles. He was beloved by

all denominations, and his sermons and other works, read and admired

by all classes, have been translated into many foreign tongues. He was

very happy in his home life with his charming wife and twin sons, who

became preachers. “That word ‘home,’” he used to say, “rings like a

peal of wedding bells, only more sweet and low, and it chimes deeper

into the ear of the heart.” After a short illness, this great preacher

and philanthropist died, at the age of only fifty-eight. That wonderful

voice, which for more than forty years had swayed great multitudes with

its fervid eloquence, was heard by a few listeners to say, faint and

low, and almost inarticulate, “I have finished my course. I have kept

the faith.” These words were inscribed on his coffin of olive-wood, the

wood itself symbolic of peace.

17. GRENFELL, MEDICAL MISSIONARY

Where the bitter winds of the north Atlantic sweep over the coast

of Labrador, and the giant icebergs slowly sail in their opalescent

majesty through the waters of the ocean, like phantom ships or dream

palaces, lies a country inhabited by very poor fisherfolk, who depend

upon the scanty harvests gathered from the waters for their living.

When the “catch” is poor there is much suffering, and the children are

clothed and fed more poorly than usual. The warm, bright days are few,

and there are no swimming holes or long, delightful summer vacations

and picnics for boys and girls.

Far away in merry England under its soft and sunny skies, a boy was

born in 1865--Wilfred T. Grenfell. When he became a young medical

student he heard Dwight L. Moody, the great American evangelist, so

interpret the old, old story of Jesus in terms of loving service

for others, that he resolved to devote his life to the poor and

desolate. With such a vision of love the young physician left his home

and friends, and sailed away up into the North Sea among the poor

fishermen, where there were no doctors to cure them when they were

ill or set their broken bones when the cruel sea dashed them upon the

rocks. Later, when others came to help, Doctor Grenfell decided to

go where no one else cared to go. He again sailed away, this time to

Labrador and the coast of Newfoundland. How cheerless and desolate that

country appears, how far away from England and America! Think of the

coldest day and bitterest storm you ever knew, and that is what Doctor

Grenfell found when he arrived, all alone, and where he has worked

so long and hard to make life happier and to help the poor Eskimos

understand something of the unselfish love of the Christ-life, which

is his ideal. He found them ignorant, poor, and miserable. When they

were ill there was no one to help. When they fell over the mountain

spurs and broke their bones, they must die or be crippled for life,

for no one knew how to put the bones in place. Along three thousand

miles of coast this good man goes in summer in his little steamboat,

fighting the cruel waves, dodging the icebergs, always in peril, but

never caring as long as he can reach the sick and ease their pain

and suffering. In winter the water is frozen, and he must take his

long, perilous journey by sledge. With his teams of dogs hitched to

his stout sledge “Lend-a-hand,” he drives over those snow-covered

fields where there are only tall poles set up to mark a trail, often

being lost in the storms or breaking through the ice into the waters

of half-frozen streams, or being dashed over the side of the steep

path, or being buried under an avalanche of snow from which he must

dig himself and his dogs out. But he is never discouraged. With a keen

sense of humor he sees the funny side of things and in those cheerless,

miserable homes he laughs and tells his experiences, plays with the

little ones, and makes every one around him happy. He is Santa Claus

to the children, and “Good Samaritan” to the man by the wayside. Often

“Lend-a-hand” is his only bed, for although the dogs are trained to

watch for the poles set to mark the path, they sometimes miss them in

the storm, and stray from the trail, and then Doctor Grenfell turns

his sledge up on the side, digs a hole in the snow, lights a fire,

and crawls into his sleeping-bag and spends the night out-of-doors,

while the dogs dig a place in the snow for themselves, to wait for

the morning light to help them to find the lost trail. Through Doctor

Grenfell a hospital has been erected on the coast, where trained

physicians and nurses care for the poor people who are shipwrecked or

who can be taken away from their wretched homes to be cared for. Do you

wonder that the people love this bright, cheerful Englishman, with the

endurance of a man and the tenderness of a woman, who is translating

his life into love, and trying to follow John Wesley’s golden advice in

the simple familiar lines?

Do all the good you can,

By all the means you can,

In all the ways you can,

In all the places you can,

At all the times you can,

To all the people you can,

As long as ever you can.

18. WRIGHT BROTHERS, AVIATORS

Rarely in the history of the world have two great brothers been linked

as closely together as Wilbur and Orville Wright, the pioneers in

aviation. Four years different in age, they grew up together, studied,

experimented, invented, and dared together. Each has an equal claim

to be called the creator of the aeroplane, the Edison of the air, the

dean of birdmen, and even “the first man to fly.” Wilbur may have

been the first actually to rise from the earth in an engine-driven,

“heavier-than-air” aeroplane, but neither of the brothers would ever

make a positive statement about it. They always spoke of themselves as

“Wright Brothers,” or “We.” Wilbur was born near Millville, Ind., April

16, 1867; Orville, in Dayton, Ohio, August 19, 1871. Their father was

a cultured bishop of the United Brethren Church, and their mother was

a college graduate. Both boys graduated from the Dayton public school

and high school, after which they became printers and bicycle dealers

in a dingy, common-place little brick shop. Here fame found them. They

had no idea of flying until 1896, when they read the newspaper report

of the death of Otto Lillienthal, who, after he had made over two

thousand gliding flights in the air, met his death by a fall. In 1900

they became intensely interested in the experiments with air-gliders

then carried on by Professor Langley, Octave Chanute, and others. On

a country road outside of Dayton they began to fly kites and gliders

equipped with an ingenious motive-power method of control. After this

they went to Kitty Hawk, N. C., where a number of sand-dunes made a

suitable place to glide from against the strong, steady winds that

they found necessary for their gliding tests. They studied birds in

flight and found that, in reality, a bird is an aeroplane. The part of

the wings nearest to the body support it in the air, leaving the more

flexible portion at the extremities to flap up and down and act as

propellers. By gliding experiments they also found that the air along

the surface of the earth is continually undergoing a churning movement,

every building, hill, and tree sending up its air wave. In 1903 they

made their first real flight of twelve seconds with their twelve

horsepower aeroplane; in 1904 they increased their flight from one to

five minutes; and in 1905 they made a hundred and fifty flights, making

twenty-four miles through the air in thirty-eight minutes. Desiring

some government to purchase their invention, they offered it to France,

only to be refused. But two years later Wilbur sailed for France, where

he was so successful in flights that the French Government paid him

one hundred thousand dollars; and in Italy and Germany many private

sales were made. Meanwhile Orville was flying his aeroplane at Fort

Meyer in the United States, where he succeeded in selling a machine to

the United States Government for thirty thousand dollars. In one of

his flights Orville received a fall, which broke his thigh and caused

the death of Lieutenant Selfridge, the first victim of power-driven

aeroplanes. How both brothers ever lived through their early flights

is a matter of wonder. A part of the explanation is to be found in

their character. They proved their scientific theories to the last

point. They were always courageous, never reckless. Unstinted praise

should be given them because they have been a conservative influence

in the field of aviation. By precept, example, and command, when they

could command, they fought against the recklessness of performers who

have dared death in unnecessary feats to thrill spectators at a show.

Neither in America nor in Europe did either of them make one curve or

flight for sensational effect. It seems strange that Wilbur should have

died in his bed of typhoid fever, and not have met his death from a

fall. He died in the height of his inventive genius and glory, leaving

his brother Orville to continue the work alone. He left a large estate

as the result of their joint invention. But best of all, he left an

unsullied name. Simple, honest, unaffected, devoted to his art, he

lived, worked, and died as becomes a true man. He was always gentle and

modest, as is his brother. The things he had done never seemed much

to him on account of the things he intended to do. In the record of

American inventions there is no more brilliant chapter than the story

of their marvelous conquest of the air, and no matter what the future

may hold in store, the name and fame of the Wright Brothers will live

with those of Watts, Stephenson, Howe, Arkwright, Fulton, and Edison.

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate,

Can circumvent, or hinder, or control

The firm resolve of a determined soul,

Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;

All things give way before it soon or late.

What obstacle can stay the mighty force

Of the sea-seeking river in its course,

Or cause the ascending orb of day to wait?

Each well-born soul must win what it deserves.

Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate

Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,

Whose slightest action or inaction serves

The one great aim.

Why, even death stands still

And waits an hour, sometimes, for such a will.

19. JANE ADDAMS, SETTLEMENT WORKER

Among the “girls who became useful,” none can take a higher rank than

Jane Addams, the founder of “Hull House,” a center which radiates

love and good will into the great city of Chicago. This “Palace of

a Thousand Joys” is a little city of refuge for the homeless and

hopeless, for the man without work, for the overworked mother whose

fretful children can be left to the gentle care of the sweet-voiced

helpers of Miss Addams, for the discouraged mill-girl and factory-hand,

for the old and young of that bustling city.

Miss Addams was born in a home of plenty in Cedarville, Ill., where

her happy childhood was passed without knowing poverty, as she played

with her brother in the free out-of-doors that should be the heritage

of every boy and girl in America. She was not strong, as her spine

was weak, and she had to carry her head on one side. This was a great

sorrow to her, for she was afraid her father, a large, handsome man,

would be ashamed of his plain, crooked girl. But she found her father

was all the more tender to his frail child. He talked lovingly to her

of the equality of all, of the rich and poor, and taught her that the

duty of the rich was to help make life happier for the poor. In this

teaching of her wise, loving father, was laid the foundation of the

life-work of this “Little Sister of the Poor.” She was so sensitive

that once when she had told an untruth she could not sleep until she

had confessed her fault to her father, who said: “I am glad if I have a

little daughter who must tell lies, that she cannot sleep afterward.”

She attended the village school until she went to Rockford to a

seminary, from which she graduated. Afterward she went to Europe

several times, visiting all the great art-galleries. While in London

she went to the East Side, where the poorest of England’s poor live.

She was greatly grieved by the sight of tiny children, half-starved,

with old, wizened faces, toiling from morning until night in the mills

and factories, with never a day to play in the green fields, chasing

the butterflies and gathering wildflowers. In America she saw things

that made her sad--poverty, vice, and sorrow; little children and weak

women with tasks too heavy for them, and with no time for pleasure

or improvement. So when she was traveling in Spain for pleasure, she

suddenly resolved to devote the rest of her life to helping the poor

of her own land. Returning to Chicago, she and her friend, Miss Starr,

took an old house that had once been a handsome home, but was now in

the midst of the poorest part of the city. They fitted it up with

comfortable furniture, hung beautiful pictures brought from Europe on

the walls, and began the work among Chicago’s poor that has resulted in

the celebrated settlement of Hull House. They provided a day-nursery

where little children could be cared for while their mothers were at

work; reading clubs for boys and girls; sewing clubs; a gymnasium; an

art school and kindergarten; entertainments for the children and their

fathers and mothers. Every one is welcome to this bright, cheerful

home, full of love and good will for each and all. The Polish, Italian,

and Jewish children mingle freely together. No creed is thought of

save the creed of Jesus, “A new commandment I give unto you, Love one

another.” The children are told stories, given care when ill, and help

at all times, so that, in the eyes of the world, “Hull House” and “Jane

Addams” now stand together for all that is best and most helpful in

philanthropy and settlement work.

Miss Addams’ service does not cease at the door of Hull House. She goes

about the country talking to thousands of people in the interests of

better laws for children and better wages for women and girls. Do you

wonder that this useful woman is known by the gentle title of “Kind

Heart”?

20. HELEN KELLER, MARVEL

No fairy tale can be more marvelous than the story of Helen Keller,

the wonderful heroine who overcame insurmountable obstacles before she

could find her way to mingle with her fellow men and attain her place

in the world’s work.

[Illustration: HELEN KELLER]

Until she was almost a year old Helen was like other babies--only

brighter. She talked when she was six months old, walked as early as

one year, and seemed interested in everything her baby eyes saw, and

her ears heard. But a serious illness fell upon this bright little baby

girl, and she was not expected to live. When at last she was out of

danger the light had gone from her beautiful eyes, her tiny ears could

not hear the tender crooning of her mother’s voice, and her little

tongue was still. In darkness and silence she must pass her days, as

if some wicked fairy, had suddenly stolen the greatest treasures of

her life. At first she would lie in her mother’s lap, as she had done

while she was ill, but as she grew older she learned to play with her

little colored girl, Martha Washington, who went everywhere with her.

She was also fond of her little dog Belle. She hunted eggs with Martha

and Belle, through the tall grass, where the nests of the guinea-hens

were, and she always wanted to carry the eggs herself for fear Martha

might fall and break them. When she wished to go on an egg-hunt she

would double up her hands and stoop down, as if she were feeling for

something. She nodded her head for “yes,” shook it for “no,” and

shivered for cold, but she would often become angry because she could

not make herself understood by any one, and had to live in her

dungeon of darkness with all the beautiful things of life shut out.

She grew so unhappy in her loneliness that her parents took her to a

great specialist to learn if anything could be done to restore her

sight, speech, or hearing, but all was hopeless. Dr. Graham Bell, of

Washington, told them what was being done for the blind, deaf, and dumb

children in Boston, in the school for the blind under Doctor Anagnos.

He secured a special teacher, Miss Anne Sullivan, who went to live with

the little “shut-in” girl in her home in Tuscumbia, Ala. With infinite

patience the teacher taught Helen the sign-language, first spelling

the words for things in the little hand. Helen thought this was a new

kind of game, but one day when at the pump the teacher held Helen’s

hand under the spout and spelled w-a-t-e-r as the water poured over her

hand, then Helen knew she was being taught the meaning of words. From

that moment she learned very fast. Then she learned to touch the lips

of the speaker, with her sensitive finger-tips, and she understood what

was said. So Helen Keller came out of her house of bondage into the

wonderful world of knowledge and delight. She could “feel” things. She

could express herself. Others could understand her. She could tell the

color of a flower she held. She learned the blind alphabet, she went to

Perkins Institute for the Blind where she learned to read many books in

the blind language. At last she learned to speak. Then she resolved to

go to college. At length she entered Radcliffe College in Cambridge,

Mass., where she studied and listened to the lectures by having some

one who could hear spell the lecture out into her hand. She learned,

to use the typewriter and make out her lessons. At nineteen, when she

entered college, she had accomplished what many girls of that age, in

possession of all their senses, have not accomplished. She wrote a

book of her life which was published and brought her a great deal of

money. She was a general favorite among her schoolmates. She enjoyed

her life, and was bright, happy, and gay; having no consciousness

of being in any way handicapped. She was fond of fun, and laughed

heartily at the funny side of things. She went to the seashore, having

pleasant times in bathing. Although still shut away in blindness and

in deafness, she lives a courageous life of usefulness in a wonderful

degree, and often entertains audiences by the story of her life. Miss

Sullivan is married, but still lives with her and loves her as when she

was a little girl who depended on her for everything worth having in

life.

Helen Keller, this ambitious, brilliant girl who can neither see nor

hear, has been likened to Napoleon Bonaparte in her ability to overcome

insurmountable obstacles and attain the pinnacle of success through

the exercise of an indomitable will-power and the cooperation of those

who loved and admired the spirit and ambition of her, whom Mark Twain

called the “Marvel of the Twentieth Century,” and of whom Edmund

Clarence Stedman sang:

Mute, sightless visitant,

From what uncharted world

Hast voyaged into life’s wide sea

With guidance scant?

As if some bark mysteriously

Should hither glide with spars aslant

And sails all furled.

ALPHABETICAL LIST OF STORIES

PAGE

Addams, Jane, Settlement Worker 284

Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp 60

Alcott, Louisa May, Author 252

America, How, Was Found 200

America, How, Was Named 201

Androcles and the Lion 184

Ant, The, and the Grasshopper 71

Arrow-boy, The, and the Two Friends 135

Audubon, Naturalist 262

Babies, The, and the Wise Judge 137

Baby Brother, The, in a Basket-boat 128

Bear, Why the, Has a Stumpy Tail 77

Bell, The, of Justice 190

Blind Men, The, and the Elephant 70

Bonheur, Rosa, Painter 253

Boone and His Swing 223

Boots and His Brothers 63

Boston Tea Party, The 213

Boy, The, and the Echo 72

Boy, The, and the Mad Dog 242

Boy, The, and the Nuts 66

Boy, The, and the Train 242

Boy, The, Who Hated Trees 103

Boy, The, Who Lived in a Church 130

Boy, The, With His Lunch 164

Boy Hero, The, of Holland 233

Boys, The, and the Frogs 67

Boys, Why, Take off Their Hats in Church 129

Bride, The, Worth Her Weight in Silver 210

Brothers, The First Two 117

Bruce and the Spider 187

Burbank, Fairy Godfather of the Orchards 265

Camel, The Lost 106

Camel, The, in the Tent 72

Christmas Day, The First 150

Christmas Gift, The 112

Christmas Tree, The Legend of 114

Cloud, The 94

Cobwebs, The Golden 113

College Boys, Four, Who Kept Strong 143

College, The First, in America 212

Cornelia and Her Jewels 185

Coyote, The, and the Indian Fire-bringer 88

Cripple, The, at the Beautiful Gate 174

Crow, The, and the Pitcher 68

Damon and Pythias 183

Darling, Grace 237

Daughter, The, Who Honored Her Mother 131

Diamonds and Toads 51

Dick Whittington and His Cat 101

Dog, The, in the Manger 66

Dove, The, and the Ant 67

Duckling, The Ugly 90

Dwarf, The, in the Mulberry Tree 166

Earthquake, The Japanese and the 235

Easter Day, The First 172

Edison, Wizard of Electricity 263

Elephant, The, and the Tailor 105

Emperor, The, and the Bird’s Nest 193

Emperor, The, and the Goose-boy 195

Emperor, The, and the School Children 196

Evangeline and the Burning of Acadia 211

Face, The Great Stone 95

Fir Tree, The 109

Flood, The, and the Rainbow 119

Fourth of July, The First 217

Fox, The, and the Grapes 67

Fox, The, Without a Tail 71

Friend, The Children’s 161

Friends, Four, in the Fiery Furnace 144

Frog King, The 52

Garibaldi and the Lost Lamb 240

Girl, The, and Her Red Petticoat 243

Girl, The Obliging, at the Well 122

Girl, The, Who Knew She Was Right 175

Girl, Tired of Being a Little 105

Gladstone and the Street-sweeper 239

Golden Goose, The 49

Goldilocks and the Three Bears 55

Goose With the Golden Eggs 66

Grasshopper, The Conceited 70

Greeley, Horace, Editor 260

Grenfell, Medical Missionary 278

Hale, Nathan 215

Hare, The, and the Tortoise 69

Hen, The Little Red 48

Heroine, The, of Gettysburg 225

Heroine, The, of North Carolina 219

Heroine, The, of Ohio 221

Hobson and the Merrimac 226

Home, How a Happy, Was Lost 116

Horatius at the Bridge 182

Hovenden and the Little Boy 241

Inchcape Bell, The 187

Indians’ Gunpowder Harvest 205

Jack and the Bean-stalk 58

Jack the Giant-killer 59

Jesus, When, Left His Carpenter Shop 157

Jesus, When, Was a Boy 152

Jesus, When, Was Forsaken 171

Jesus, When, Was Lost 155

Jesus, When, Won His Great Victory 159

Keller, Helen, Marvel 286

King Alfred and the Cakes 186

King, The Little Boy 138

King, The, of the Golden River 91

King, The, With the Basin and the Towel 170

Kit Carson and the Bears 224

Ladder, The, that Reached to Heaven 124

Larks, The, in the Wheat-field 74

Lincoln, Abraham, and the Pig 239

Lincoln, Emancipation President 257

Lind, Jenny, Singer 255

Lion, The, and the Fox 69

Lion, The, and the Mouse 74

“Little Ten Minutes” 198

Livingstone, Missionary-Explorer 273

Longfellow, Poet 246

Lost Colony, The 203

Love, Where, Is, God Is 98

Lyon, Mary, Educator 267

Maid, The, Awakened 162

Man, The, in the Moon 78

Man, The, Who First Sailed Around the World 202

Man, The, Who Was Not Afraid to Pray 146

Man, The, Who Wrote “America” 230

Mayflower, The, and the Pilgrims 206

Miller, The, and His Donkey 75

Monkey, The, and the Cats 73

Mozart, Musician 248

Napoleon and the Drummer-boy 191

Neighbor, The Good 167

Newsboy, The, of Gary 244

Nightingale, Florence, Nurse 268

Ole Bull, Violinist 250

Patriot, The German, and the Barley-fields 234

Patriot, The Swiss, and the Spears 194

Paul Revere’s Ride 214

Persian, The, and His Sons 76

Phaethon’s Wonderful Ride 80

Picciola 192

Piper, The Pied 100

Pocahontas 204

Prince, The Little Lame 136

Prince, The, Who Hated Spiders and Flies 104

Prisoner, The, and the Shipwreck 177

Prometheus, The Greek Fire-giver 79

Putnam and the Wolf 223

Raleigh, Sir Walter 188

Rebecca and the Snake 209

Red Ridinghood 54

Reed, General, and the Bribe 217

Robin’s Breast, Why the, is Red 77

Ross, Betsy, and the Flag 228

Runaway Pancake, The 47

Saint Christopher 108

Saint George and the Dragon 84

Saint Patrick and the Snakes 86

Scepter, The Golden, in the Palace of the Lily 147

Servant, The Russian 236

Shepherd Boy, The, and the Wolf 68

Shepherd Boy, The, Who Slew a Giant 133

Sidney, Sir Philip 189

Slave-boy, The, Who Became a Prince 126

Slave-girl, The, Who Helped a Great Captain 141

Slave, The, Who Ran Away from His Master 179

Sleeping Beauty, The 56

Spurgeon, Preacher 275

Storm-king, The 169

Story, The, Without an End 107

Sunflower, The Story of the 81

Surveyor, The, and the Little Boy 238

Thanksgiving Day, The First 207

Toadstool, The, and the Acorn 67

Tolstoy’s Daughter and the Peasant Boy 197

Tom, the Chimney-sweep 96

Touch, The Golden 82

Trick, One Good 70

Uncle, The Generous, and the Selfish Nephew 121

Washington’s Christmas Victory 218

Willard, Frances E., Reformer 271

Wind, The, and the Sun 68

Wise Men, The, and the Star 151

Woman, The, Who Shared Her Last Loaf 139

World, How the, Was Made 115

Wright Brothers, Aviators 281

Wrists, The, Bound With the Red Thread 197

ETHICAL INDEX OF STORIES

Roman numerals refer to chapters of stories, and Arabic numerals refer

to the number of story in the chapter. By this reference a story

illustrating any ethical principle desired may be readily found. The

pages on which the chapters of stories occur may readily be found by

turning to the Table of Contents in front of book.

Accuracy: II. 11, 13, 15; IV. 13; VIII. 15; IX. 2; XI. 18.

Achievement: I. 11; II. 13; III. 8, 9, 10; IV. 8; VI. 8, 13, 23;

VIII. 6, 15; IX. 1, 12, 14, 15, 17; X. 1-14; XI. 1-20.

Adversity, action in: III. 8, 9, 10; IV. 1; VI. 12, 23;

VII. 11, 12, 13; IX. 1, 4-8, 11, 13-16, 18, 19, 20, 24; X. 1-14;

XI. 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 15, 17, 19, 20.

Agreeableness: II. 18, 23; IV. 2; V. 3, 5; VI. 5, 6, 12, 18;

VII. 3, 7; VIII. 15, 16, 17; IX. 9, 10; X. 2, 7, 8, 14; XI. 1, 3.

Aim: II. 22; III. 8, 9, 10; VIII. 6, 11; IX. 1, 3; XI. 1-20.

Altruism: I. 1, 3, 4, 8, 10; II. 6, 21, 24; III. 2, 4, 8, 9, 10;

IV. 2, 3, 6; V. 1; VI. 12, 18, 23; VII. 5, 9, 11, 13, 14, 16;

VIII. 1-3, 8, 9, 14, 17; IX. 1, 5, 9, 14-21, 24, 25; X. 1-14;

XI. 1-20.

Ambition: I. 10-12; II. 4, 9, 12; III. 8-10; IV. 2, 4, 8; V. 1;

VI. 5, 8, 12, 13, 21, 23; VII. 3, 5, 13, 16; VIII. 11, 16;

IX. 1, 15, 16; X. 3, 10, 14; XI. 1-20.

Anger: III. 9; IV. 2, 6, 7; VI. 3, 5; VIII. 5, 17; IX. 19.

Art, love of: IV. 4; V. 2, 4; VIII. 4; IX. 19, 26; X. 10; XI. 5.

Artfulness: II. 17, 19; IV. 14; VI. 16; IX. 6.

Attention: I. 12; II. 11, 19, 22; IV. 13; VII. 2, 18; IX. 1.

Beauty of character: II. 24; III. 8; IV. 1, 4; V. 5;

VI. 5, 6, 11, 12, 15, 18-20, 22; VII. 3-19; VIII. 4, 9;

IX. 5, 15, 16, 24, 27; X. 3-14; XI. 1-20.

Boasting: II. 12-14; VIII. 4, 7; IX. 19.

Brotherliness: II. 24; IV. 2, 5; VI. 5, 7, 12; VII. 3, 11, 13;

VIII. 9, 17; IX. 5; X. 12; XI. 18.

Carefulness: I. 11; III. 10, 15; VI. 20; VIII. 13.

Carelessness: I. 8; III. 1; IV. 2, 6; V. 5; VI. 3, 5; VII. 9, 11, 16;

VIII. 5, 7, 9, 19; X. 2, 3, 8, 14; XI. 3, 5, 6, 16, 19.

Chivalry: II. 24; III. 8; VIII. 8, 17.

Cleanliness: IV. 5; V. 4; VII. 3.

Complaining: II. 18; IV. 9, 11; V. 2.

Conceit: II. 14; VIII. 7.

Constancy: II. 12; III. 6; VI. 12, 14; VII. 3, 17; VIII. 2: IX. 24.

Contentment: IV. 1, 11; V. 3; VIII. 4, 9.

Courage: I. 10; III. 8-10; VI. 6, 13, 20, 21, 23; VIII. 11, 14, 18;

IX. 1, 5, 7, 13-25; X. 1, 4.

Courtesy: II. 18; V. 5; VI. 5, 6, 12, 20; VII. 15; VIII. 8, 9, 16, 17;

IX. 5, 18, 19; X. 14.

Cruelty to animals: II. 5; IV. 10, 12; VII. 10.

Cruelty to others: II. 3, 10, 18; III. 2; IV. 1, 2, 5, 8;

VI. 3, 16, 17, 22, 23; VII. 10, 11, 14.

Curiosity: IV. 2, 13; VI. 2; IX. 1.

Day-dreaming: I. 12; III. 10; IV. 2, 4-6, 8; VI. 8; VII. 3-5; IX. 1.

Deceit: III. 1; IV. 7; VI. 7.

Decision: VI. 12, 20, 23; VII. 6; VIII. 6; IX. 1, 3, 14.

Determination: III. 8, 9; VIII. 11; IX. 15, 20.

Discontent: I. 1; IV. 1, 9; V. 2; VI. 2.

Dishonor: IV. 2; VIII. 7; IX. 6, 19.

Disobedience: I. 6, 7; III. 3, 5; VI. 2-4.

Earnestness: III. 8, 9; IV. 4; IX. 1, 14.

Education, desire for: I. 12; II. 15; VI. 20; VII. 3, 4; VIII. 15, 16;

IX. 12, 27; X. 11; XI. 4, 7, 8, 10, 12, 14, 15, 20.

Energy: see Aim, Ambition, Achievement, Determination.

Exaggeration, folly of: II. 13; IV. 9, 10.

Fairness: IV. 1; VI. 5; VIII. 17; IX. 6. See also Justice.

Faith: see Loyalty to faith.

Fear, good and bad: I. 2, 5-7, 9; II. 11, 20; III. 8, 9; IV. 1;

VI. 3, 9.

Fidelity: II. 24; VI. 21; VIII. 11. See also Loyalty, Constancy.

Forethought: II. 11, 16; III. 4, 10; IV. 10; VIII. 8, 13; IX. 10, 20.

See Thoughtfulness, Watchfulness.

Forgetfulness: see Neglect, Thoughtlessness.

Forgiveness: II. 24; IV. 6; VI. 5, 8; VII. 14, 19; VIII. 5, 17; IX. 5.

Friendship: III. 6, 10; VI. 5, 12, 14, 15; VII. 19; VIII. 2; XI. 20.

Fun, good and bad: I. 3; II. 5, 10-12, 14, 17; III. 5, 7;

IV. 5, 11, 14; VII. 3, 9; VIII. 11, 15-17; IX. 6, 9, 10.

Generosity: II. 24; IV. 6; V. 5; VI. 5, 12; VII. 11; VIII. 8.

Gentleness: II. 9; III. 8, 9; IV. 4; VI. 12; VII. 11, 12;

VIII. 5, 12, 13, 16.

Giving: see Altruism, Kindness, Generosity, Self-sacrifice.

Golden Rule, regard for: II. 5, 6; IV. 2, 6; V. 5; VI. 5; VII. 11.

Good humor: see Agreeableness.

Good manners: IV. 1, 12; VI. 5, 6, 20; VII. 3, 13; VIII. 5, 8, 16, 17.

Gratitude: I. 10, 12; II. 6; III. 8; VI. 15, 19; VII. 2, 8, 10;

VIII. 2, 3; IX. 8.

Greediness: II. 1, 2; III. 7; IV. 2; VI. 5; VIII. 10; IX. 6.

See Selfishness.

Habits, power of good and bad: I. 6, 7, 9, 12; II. 10, 17, 18;

VI. 20, 22; VII. 3; VIII. 17; IX. 16; XI. 1.

Happiness: III. 7; IV. 1, 2, 11; V. 2; VI. 1; VIII. 4.

Hatred, bad results of: IV. 2, 9; VI. 3, 22, 23; VIII. 7, 17.

Healthfulness, how gained: IV. 5; VI. 20; VII. 3; IX. 8.

Helpfulness: II. 21; III. 2, 4, 8-10; IV. 2, 3, 9, 10; VI. 12, 14, 18;

VII. 9, 12; VIII. 15, 17; IX. 5; XI. 1-20. See also Altruism.

Home, love for: III. 7; V. 5; VI. 2, 6; VII. 3, 8, 10;

VIII. 4, 14, 17; IX. 19; X. 13; XI. 4, 16, 19.

Honesty: II. 24; IX. 6. See Loyalty to honor, Truthfulness.

Honor: see Loyalty to honor.

Hopefulness: VII. 15; IX. 1. See also Patience.

Humility: see Modesty.

Humor: see Fun.

Idleness: II. 16; IV. 2, 16.

Imagination, cultivation of: I. 10-12; II. 8, 11, 15; III. 7;

IV. 1-14; V. 1-5; VI. 16, 19, 20; VII. 3, 4; VIII. 4, 16; IX. 1;

X. 13; XI. 1-20.

Impatience: I. 1, 3, 5; II. 2, 4; IV. 2. See Rashness, Self-will.

Industry: II. 12, 16; IV. 8; VI. 8, 20.

Influence, good and bad: I. 16, 17, 22, 23; III. 10; IV. 4, 5; VI. 11;

VII. 13, 17, 18; VIII. 2; IX. 8, 9, 11.

Jealousy: I. 8; VI. 5, 14; VIII. 4; XI. 2.

Joyfulness: IV. 1; IX. 17.

Justice: II. 20; IV. 1; VI. 16, 23; VIII. 10, 12, 17; IX. 6.

See Fairness.

Kindness: III. 3, 4, 8-10; IV. 2, 3; VI. 23. To animals: V. 3, 4;

VIII. 3, 10, 13; IX. 9; X. 7; XI. 1. To little children: IV. 6;

V. 1, 5; VI. 11, 16, 17; VII. 2, 5, 7, 8, 16, 17; XI. 16.

To parents: VI. 8, 12; VII. 3; XI. 4. To sick and old: I. 3, 4;

IV. 6; VI. 15, 18, 19; VII. 11, 16; VIII. 9; IX. 24; X. 8, 10, 14;

XI. 17, 19.

Knowledge: II. 13, 15; VII. 18; VIII. 15; IX. 6, 26. See Wisdom.

Laziness: see Idleness.

Leadership, qualities of: III. 8, 9; VI. 5, 13, 20; VII. 12, 13, 18;

VIII. 4-6; 15-17; IX. 1, 14, 19, 20.

Liberty, how gained: III. 8, 9; VI. 23; IX. 13-20.

Literature, love of: VI. 10, 20; VII. 3; IX. 12, 27;

XI. 1, 4, 7, 8, 10, 12, 20.

Love: III. 6; IV. 4; V. 5; VI. 12; VII. 7; VIII. 2, 17; IX. 4, 5, 11;

X. 10. Of nature: III. 7; IV. 4, 9, 10; VI. 1; VIII. 12.

To children: I. 1, 9; II. 24; III. 8; VI. 9, 11; VII. 4, 8;

VIII. 4, 17, 19. To friends: see Friendship. To parents: III. 10;

VI. 8, 12; VII. 3, 4; IX. 24; X. 1; XI. 2, 4, 11, 15.

Loyalty: To comrades: VI. 5, 6, 8, 12, 23; VII. 13; VIII. 1, 6, 14;

IX. 4, 15, 20; X. 3. To country: III. 8-10; VI. 13, 15, 17, 23;

VII. 6; VIII. 1, 4, 5, 8, 11, 14; IX. 12-27; X. 2; XI. 7, 8. To

duty: I. 12; III. 8, 9; IV. 8; V. 1; VI. 5; VII. 3-6; VIII. 1, 14;

IX. 15, 16; X. 5. To faith: III. 8; IV. 6; V. 3; VI. 5, 6, 9;

VII. 18. To honor: IV. 1, 8; VI. 23; VIII. 4, 16, 17; IX. 6, 19.

To promises: see Promises. To truth: II. 10; IV. 7, 13; VII. 3;

VIII. 2; IX. 6. Unto death: III. 4; IV. 3; VII. 14; VIII. 14, 18;

IX. 11, 15, 24; X. 4, 10, 14; XI. 7.

Lying: see Deceit, Dishonor.

Modesty: II. 12, 13; III. 8; IV. 1, 4; VI. 5, 12; VII. 13;

VIII. 4, 5, 16; X. 8.

Music, love of: III. 9; IV. 7; VII. 1; IX. 27; XI. 2, 3, 6.

Nature, beauty of: III. 7; IV. 9, 10; VIII. 12.

Neatness: I. 2; V. 4; VII. 13. See Cleanliness.

Neglect: III. 3; VII. 13; VIII. 10.

Obedience: III. 8; IV. 9; VI. 10, 11, 18, 19; VII. 3, 4, 6; VIII. 11;

X. 1.

Observation: see Forethought.

Opportunity: III. 8-10; VII. 13; VIII. 8.

Orderliness: IV. 13; VII. 9, 12, 13; VIII. 13.

Patience: I. 8; II. 4, 12; IV. 1; VII. 14; VIII. 6, 12, 17;

XI. 7, 9, 10, 11.

Patriotism: see Loyalty to country.

Peace and good will: IV. 6; V. 5; VI. 5, 12; VII. 1-3; VIII. 17;

IX. 8.

Perseverance: II. 12; VII. 10; VIII. 6, 11; XI. 20.

Play, love of: II. 5, 10, 14, 17; VI. 15; VII. 3, 4; IX. 9, 22;

X. 11, 12; XI. 4, 9, 10, 13, 14, 20.

Pluck: see Courage.

Politeness: see Good manners.

Prayerfulness: VI. 6, 7, 9, 13, 22; VII. 5, 13, 17; XI. 15.

Pretense: II. 7, 17; IV. 7; VI. 16; VIII. 4; IX. 6.

Promises, keeping: I. 5; IV. 7; VI. 15; IX. 6, 11, 19.

Promptness: I. 9; VI. 11, 12, 16; VII. 2, 3, 6, 10, 12;

VIII. 8, 11, 19; IX. 14, 20; XI. 12.

Prudence: see Forethought.

Punctuality: VI. 11; VIII. 19; XI. 12.

Quarrelsomeness: II. 15, 20; IV. 12; VI. 5, 16; VII. 13; VIII. 17.

Quick-wittedness: IV. 12, 14; VI. 5, 12, 16, 20, 23; VII. 10, 13;

VIII. 4, 8, 11; IX. 5, 22, 26; X. 1-13.

Rashness: III. 5; VIII. 7. See Impatience, Self-will.

Readiness: I. 12; II. 13; VI. 9, 13; VII. 13; VIII. 4, 8, 11;

IX. 14, 20, 22.

Reading, love of: VII. 3; IX. 27; XI. 1, 4, 7, 8, 10, 11, 14, 15, 20.

Resourcefulness: III. 10; IV. 8, 13, 14; VI. 9, 16, 23;

VIII. 4, 8, 12; IX. 5, 6, 14, 19, 20, 22.

Repentance: IV. 9; VI. 7, 19; VIII. 7.

Reverence: VI. 4, 10, 11, 13, 21, 22; VII. 1-3, 6, 10, 14;

VIII. 5, 16; IX. 7, 8.

Rewards of service: III. 8; IV. 1, 2, 4, 8; VI. 5, 6, 9, 12, 13, 23;

VII. 6; VIII. 6, 8; IX. 1, 2; X. 6-14; XI. 1-20.

Ridicule: II. 17; IV. 12; VII. 10; IX. 6.

Rudeness: IV. 1; VIII. 5, 15, 17.

Self-control: IV. 1; VI. 5, 21; VII. 6, 13; VIII. 5, 17.

Self-deception: I. 1; II. 1, 2, 7, 10, 12; III. 1, 5, 7; IV. 11, 14;

VI. 2, 5; VIII. 7, 10, 19; IX. 6, 19.

Self-education, duty of: I. 12; VI. 8, 20; VIII. 17; IX. 12; X. 11;

XI. 4, 7, 8, 20.

Self-injury, by wrong-doing: I. 2, 4, 6, 7; II. 1, 10, 13, 14, 17;

III. 1, 5; IV. 2, 12; VI. 2-5, 7, 22, 23; VIII. 7, 10.

Selfishness: II. 1, 3; VI. 5; VIII. 7.

Self-preservation: I. 1, 2, 11; II. 6, 11, 14, 18; VI. 18, 20;

VII. 18; VIII. 12; IX. 19-23.

Self-reliance: II. 23; IV. 8, 9; VI. 22; IX. 20.

Self-respect: IV. 1; VI. 5. 21, 22; VII. 6, 13; VIII. 4, 17; IX. 19.

Self-sacrifice: III. 1, 10; IV. 3; VI. 23; VII. 13, 14; IX. 1, 5-15;

X. 1-6, 10-12, 14; XI. 7, 13, 15, 17, 19. See Altruism.

Self-will: III. 5; IV. 7; VI. 3, 5; VIII. 7, 19.

Skilfulness: II. 8; IV. 13, 14; VI. 13; VIII. 4, 8, 11, 12, 15;

IX. 22, 26; X. 14.

Speech, good and bad: I. 4; VIII. 4, 5, 7, 13, 17; IX. 20.

Sport: Cruel: II. 5, 10, 11, 17; III. 5, 7; VIII. 7. Good: I. 10;

III. 10; VI. 13, 14; VII. 3, 9; IX. 6, 9, 10; X. 9, 13;

XI. 9-11, 18.

Steadiness: II. 12; VIII. 6; IX. 1.

Stories, love of: IV. 14; VII. 3, 7; XI. 1, 4, 14.

Strength of character: II. 9; III. 8, 9; IV. 1; V. 1; VI. 20, 21;

VII. 6, 12-14; VIII. 4, 5, 17; IX. 14-20.

Sympathy: II. 24; III. 3, 4, 8, 9, 10; IV. 2, 3, 6; V. 5; VI. 18, 19;

VII. 8, 11, 16; VIII. 9, 17; X. 10, 14; XI. 6, 13, 17, 19.

Team-work: II. 15; III. 10; VI. 5, 20, 21; VII. 9; VIII. 1, 20; X. 20;

XI. 11, 18.

Temperance: IV. 2; VI. 20; VIII. 8, 9, 17; XI. 4, 14.

Temptation, resisting: II. 11, 24; VI. 20-22; VII. 6; VIII. 9, 17;

IX. 15, 16, 24; XI. 13.

Tenderness: III. 8; VI. 15; VII. 11; VIII. 12, 13, 17. See Gentleness.

Thoroughness: I. 12; II. 12-14; III. 8, 9; IV. 13, 14; VI. 15;

VII. 3, 17; VIII. 6; IX. 1; X. 9; XI. 18.

Thoughtfulness: III. 10; IV. 3, 6, 13; VI. 9; VII. 4, 11, 13, 14;

VIII. 8, 12, 13, 17, 20; X. 12.

Thoughtlessness: III. 7; IV. 1; VIII. 7.

Thrift: I. 3, 9, 12; II. 16; IV. 2, 8; VI. 8, 18, 20; VII. 9, 11;

IX. 10; XI. 7, 8, 10.

Tidiness: see Neatness.

Truthfulness: II. 10; IV. 7, 13; VII. 3; VIII. 2; IX. 6.

Unselfishness: see Altruism.

Usefulness: see Helpfulness.

Use of time: I. 12; II. 4, 12, 16, 22; III. 3, 6, 10; VII. 5, 11, 16;

VIII. 6, 19; IX. 8; X. 7-9; XI. 7, 8, 10, 12.

Vocational stories: I. 12; III. 8, 9; IV. 3-13; V. 1; VI. 13, 23;

VII. 3, 5, 7, 13, 15; IX. 1, 14, 15, 19, 20, 26;

X. 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 14; XI. 1-20.

Watchfulness: see Attention, Carefulness, Thoughtfulness.

Wisdom: II. 8; III. 8-10; IV. 13; VI. 9, 16; VII. 3; VIII. 4, 17;

IX. 1, 6. See Knowledge, Resourcefulness.

Working together: see Team-work.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Dr. Richard Morse Hodge, in “Journal of Religious Education.”

[2] “The Pedagogical Bible School,” Samuel B. Haslett, p. 267.

[3] “The Pedagogical Bible School,” Haslett, p. 250.

[4] Dr. E. P. St. John, “Stories and Story-Telling,” p. 24.

[5] This tale has been told in varying forms by nearly every race to

typify the sleep of nature during the winter, and its awakening to life

and bloom at the touch of Spring, the beautiful and good Prince.

[6] This and the following two myths are adapted from “The First Book

of Stories for the Story Teller,” by Fanny E. Coe, pp. 170-180.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Text in italics is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hypenation, punctuation, and spelling have been

standardized.

Archaic spelling of words that may have been in use at the time of

publication have been preserved.