CHAPTER VIII

LIST OF BOOKS FOR PRIMARY GRADES 190

SPECIAL METHOD IN PRIMARY READING

CHAPTER I

THE REASON FOR ORAL WORK IN STORIES

The telling and reading of stories to children in early years, before

they have mastered the art of reading, is of such importance as to

awaken the serious thought of parents and teachers. To older people it

is a source of constant surprise--the attentive interest which children

bestow upon stories. Almost any kind of a story will command their

wide-awake thought. But the tale which they can fully understand and

enjoy has a unique power to concentrate their mental energy. There is an

undivided, unalloyed absorption of mind in good stories which augurs

well for all phases of later effort. To get children into this habit of

undivided mental energy, of singleness of purpose in study, is most

promising. In primary grades, the fluttering, scatter-brained truancy of

thought is the chronic obstacle to success in study.

The telling or reading of stories to children naturally begins at home,

before the little ones are old enough for school. The mother and father,

the aunts and uncles, and any older person who delights in children,

find true comfort and entertainment in rehearsing the famous stories to

children. The Mother Goose, the fables, the fairy tales, the "Arabian

Nights," Eugene Field's and Stevenson's poems of child life, the Bible

stories, the myths, and some of the old ballads have untold treasures

for children. If one has a voice for singing the old melodies, the charm

of music intensifies the effect. Little ones quickly memorize what

delights them, and not seldom, after two or three readings, children of

three and four years will be heard repeating whole poems or large parts

of them. The repetition of the songs and stories till they become

thoroughly familiar gives them their full educative effect. They become

a part of the permanent furniture of the mind. If the things which the

children learn in early years have been well selected from the real

treasures of the past (of which there is a goodly store), the seeds of

true culture have been deeply sown in their affections.

The opportunities of the home for good story-telling are almost

boundless. Parents who perceive its worth and are willing to take time

for it, find in this early period greater opportunity to mould the lives

of children and put them into sympathetic touch with things of beauty

and value than at any other time. At this age children are well-nigh

wholly at the mercy of their elders. They will take what we give them

and take it at its full worth or worthlessness. They absorb these things

as the tender plant absorbs rain and sunshine.

The kindergarten has naturally found in the story one of its chief means

of effectiveness. Stories, songs, and occupations are its staples.

Dealing with this same period of early childhood, before the more taxing

work of the school begins, it finds that the children's minds move with

that same freedom and spontaneity in these stories with which their

bodies and physical energies disport themselves in games and

occupations.

It is fortunate for childhood that we have such wholesome and healthful

material, which is fitted to give a child's mental action a well-rounded

completeness. His will, his sensibility, and his knowing faculty, all in

one harmonious whole, are brought into full action. In short, not a

fragment but the whole child is focussed and concentrated upon one

absorbing object of thought.

The value of the oral treatment of stories is found in the greater

clearness and interest with which they can be presented orally. There is

a keener realism, a closer approximation to experimental facts, to the

situations, the hardships, to the sorrows and triumphs of persons. The

feelings and impulses of the actors in the story are felt more sharply.

The reality of the surrounding conditions and difficulties is presented

so that a child transports himself by the power of sympathy and

imagination into the scenes described.

There is no way by which this result can be accomplished in early years

except by the oral presentation of stories. Until the children have

learned to read and have acquired sufficient mastery of the art of

reading so that it is easy and fluent, there is no way by which they can

get at good stories for themselves. Average children require about three

years to acquire this mastery of the reading art. Not many children read

stories from books, with enjoyment and appreciation, till they are nine

or ten years old; but from the age of four to ten they are capable of

receiving an infinite amount of instruction and mental stimulus from

hearing good stories. In fact, many of the best stories ever produced in

the history of the world can be thoroughly enjoyed by children before

they have learned to read. This is true of Grimm's and Andersen's

stories, of the myths of Hiawatha and Norseland, and of the early

Greeks, of the Bible stories, the "Arabian Nights," "Robin Hood,"

besides many other stories, poems, ballads, and biographies which are

among the best things in our literature.

In these early years the minds of children may be enriched with a

furnishment of ideas of much value for all their future use, a sort of

capital well invested, which will bring rich returns. Minds early

fertilized with this variety of thought material become more flexible,

productive, and acquisitive.

For many years, and even centuries, it was supposed that early education

could furnish children with little except the forms and instruments of

knowledge, the tools of acquisition, such as ability to read, spell, and

write, and to use simple numbers. But the susceptibility of younger

children to the powerful culture influence of story, poem, and nature

study, was overlooked.

We now have good reason to believe that there is no period when the

educative and refining influences of good literature in the form of

poems and story can be made so effective as in this early period from

four to ten years. That period which has been long almost wholly devoted

to the dry formalities and mechanics of knowledge, to the dull and

oftentimes benumbing drills of alphabets, spelling, and arithmetical

tables, is found to be capable of a fruitful study of stories, fables,

and myths, and an indefinite extension of ideas and experiences in

nature observation.

But the approach to these sunny fields of varied and vivid experience is

not through books, except as the teacher's mind has assimilated their

materials and prepared them for lively presentation.

The oral speech through which the stories are given to children is

completely familiar to them, so that they, unencumbered by the forms of

language, can give their undivided thought to the story. Oral speech is,

therefore, the natural channel through which stories should come in

early years. The book is at first wholly foreign to them, and it takes

them three years or more of greater or less painful effort to get such

easy mastery of printed forms as to gain ready access to thought in

books. A book, when first put into the hands of a child, is a complete

obstruction to thought. The oral story, on the contrary, is a perfectly

transparent medium of thought. A child can see the meaning of a story

through oral speech as one sees a landscape through a clear window-pane.

If a child, therefore, up to the age of ten, is to get many and

delightsome views into the fruitful fields of story-land, this miniature

world of all realities, this repository of race ideas, it must be

through oral speech which he has already acquired in the years of

babyhood.

It is an interesting blunder of teachers, and one that shows their

unreflecting acceptance of traditional customs, to assume that the

all-absorbing problem of primary instruction is the acquisition of a new

book language (the learning to read), and to ignore that rich mother

tongue, already abundantly familiar, as an avenue of acquisition and

culture. But we are now well convinced that the ability to read is an

instrument of culture, not culture itself, and primarily the great

object of education is to inoculate the children with the ideas of our

civilization. The forms of expression are also of great value, but they

are secondary and incidental as compared with the world of ideas.

There is an intimate connection between learning to read and the oral

treatment of stories in primary schools which is very interesting and

suggestive to the teacher. Routine teachers may think it a waste of time

to stop for the oral presentation of stories. But the more thoughtful

and sympathetic teacher will think it better to stimulate the child's

mind than to cram his memory. The young mind fertilized by ideas is

quicker to learn the printed forms than a mind barren of thought. Yet

this proposition needs to be seen and illustrated in many forms.

Children should doubtless make much progress in learning to read in the

first year of school. But coincident with these exercises in primary

reading, and, as a general thing, preliminary to them, is a lively and

interested acquaintance with the best stories. It is a fine piece of

educative work to cultivate in children, at the beginning of school

life, a real appreciation and enjoyment of a few good stories. These

stories, thus rendered familiar, and others of similar tone and quality,

may serve well as a part of the reading lessons. It is hardly possible

to cultivate this literary taste in the reading books alone, unrelieved

by oral work. The primers and first readers, when examined, will give

ample proof of this statement. In spite of the utmost effort of skilled

primary teachers to make attractive books for primary children, our

primers and first readers show unmistakable signs of their formal and

mechanical character. They are essentially drill books.

It seems well, therefore, to have in primary schools two kinds of work

in connection with story and reading, the oral work in story-telling,

reproduction, expression, etc., and the drill exercises in learning to

read. The former will keep up a wide-awake interest in the best thought

materials suitable for children, the latter will gradually acquaint them

with the necessary forms of written and printed language. Moreover, the

interest aroused in the stories is constantly transferring itself to the

reading lessons and giving greater spirit and vitality even to the

primary efforts at learning to read. In discussing the method of primary

reading we shall have occasion to mention the varied devices of games,

activities, drawings, dramatic action, blackboard exercises, and picture

work, by which an alert primary teacher puts life and motive into early

reading work, but fully as important as all these things put together is

the growing insight and appreciation for good stories. When a child

makes the discovery, as Hugh Miller said, "that learning to read is

learning to get stories out of books" he has struck the chord that

should vibrate through all his future life. The real motive for reading

is to get something worth the effort of reading. Even if it takes longer

to accomplish the result in this way, the result when accomplished is in

all respects more valuable. But it is probable that children will learn

to read fully as soon who spend a good share of their time in oral story

work.

In discussing the literary materials used in the first four grades, we

suggest the following grading of certain large groups of literary

matter, and the relation of oral work to the reading in each subsequent

grade is clearly marked.

ORAL WORK. READING.

_1st Grade._ Games, Mother Goose. Lessons based on Games, etc.

Fables, Fairy Tales. Board Exercises.

Nature Myths, Child Poems. Primers, First Readers.

Simple Myths, Stories, etc.

_2d Grade._ Robinson Crusoe. Fables, Fairy Tales.

Hiawatha. Myths and Poems.

Seven Little Sisters. Second Readers.

Hiawatha Primer.

_3d Grade._ Greek and Norse Myths. Robinson Crusoe.

Ballads and Legendary Andersen's & Grimm's Tales.

Stories. Child's Garden of Verses.

Ulysses, Jason, Siegfried. Third Readers.

Old Testament Stories.

_4th Grade._ American Pioneer History Greek and Norse Myths.

Stories. Historical Ballads.

Early Biographical Stories Ulysses, Arabian Nights.

of Europe, as Alfred, Hiawatha, Wonder Book.

Solon, Arminius, etc.

This close dependence of reading proper, in earlier years, upon the oral

treatment of stories as a preliminary, is based fundamentally upon the

idea that suitable and interesting thought matter is the true basis of

progress in reading, and that the strengthening of the taste for good

books is a much greater thing than the mere acquisition of the art of

reading. The motive with which children read or try to learn to read is,

after all, of the greatest consequence.

The old notion that children must first learn to read and then find,

through the mastery of this art, the entrance to literature is exactly

reversed. First awaken a desire for things worth reading, and then

incorporate these and similar stories into the regular reading exercises

as far as possible.

In accordance with this plan, children, by the time they are nine or ten

years old, will become heartily acquainted with three or four of the

great classes of literature, the fables, fairy tales, myths, and such

world stories as Crusoe, Aladdin, Hiawatha, and Ulysses. Moreover, the

oral treatment will bring these persons and actions closer to their

thought and experience than the later reading alone could do. In fact,

if children have reached their tenth year without enjoying those great

forms of literature that are appropriate to childhood, there is small

prospect that they will ever acquire a taste for them. They have passed

beyond the age where a liking for such literature is most easily and

naturally cultivated. They move on to other things. They have passed

through one great stage of education and have emerged with a meagre and

barren outfit.

The importance of oral work as a lively means of entrance to studies is

seen also in other branches besides literature.

In geography and history the first year or two of introductory study is

planned for the best schools in the form of oral narrative and

discussion. Home geography in the third or fourth year, and history

stories in the fourth and fifth years of school, are best presented

without a text book by the teacher. Although the children have already

overcome, to some extent, the difficulty of reading, so great is the

power of oral presentation and discussion to vivify and realize

geographical and historical scenes that the book is discarded at first

for the oral treatment.

In natural science also, from the first year on the teacher must employ

an oral method of treatment. The use of books is not only impossible,

but even after the children have learned to read, it would defeat the

main purpose of instruction to make books the chief means of study. The

ability to observe and discern things, to use their own senses in

discriminating and comparing objects, in experiments and investigations,

is the fundamental purpose.

In language lessons, again, it is much better to use a book only as a

guide and to handle the lessons orally, collecting examples and stories

from other studies as the basis for language discussions.

It is apparent from this brief survey that an oral method is appropriate

to the early treatment of all the common school studies, that it gives

greater vivacity, intensity, simplicity, and clearness to all such

introductory studies.

The importance of story-telling and the initiation of children into the

delightful fields of literature through the teacher rather than through

the book are found to harmonize with a mode of treatment common to all

the studies in early years.

In this connection it is interesting to observe that the early

literature of the European nations was developed and communicated to the

people by word of mouth. The Homeric songs were chanted or sung at the

courts of princes. At Athens, in her palmy days, the great dramatists

and poets either recited their productions to the people or had them

presented to thousands of citizens in the open-air theatres. Even

historians like Thucidides read or recited their great histories before

the assembled people. In the early history of England, Scotland, and

other countries, the minstrels sang their ballads and epic poems in the

baronial halls and thus developed the early forms of music and poetry.

Shakespeare wrote his dramas for the theatre, and he seems to have paid

no attention at all to their appearance in book form, never revising

them or putting them into shape for the press.

This practice of all the early races of putting their great literature

before the people by song, dramatic action, and word of mouth is very

suggestive to the teacher. The power and effectiveness of this mode of

presentation, not only in early times but even in the highly civilized

cities of London and Athens, is unmistakable proof of the educative

value of such modes of teaching. This is only another indication of the

kinship of child life with race life, which has been emphasized by many

great thinkers.

The oral method offers a better avenue for all vigorous modes of

expression than the reading book. It can be observed that the general

tendency of the book is toward a formal, expressionless style in young

readers. Go into a class where the teacher is handling a story orally

and you will see her falling naturally into all forms of vivid narrative

and presentation, gesture, facial expression, versatile intonation,

blackboard sketching and picture work, the impersonation of characters

in dialogue, dramatic action, and general liveliness of manner. The

children naturally take up these same activities and modes of uttering

themselves. Even without the suggestion of teachers, little children

express themselves in such actions, attitudes, and impersonations. This

may be often observed in little boys and girls of kindergarten age, when

telling their experiences to older persons, or when playing among

themselves. The freedom, activity, and vivacity of children is, indeed,

in strong contrast to the apathetic, expressionless, monotonous style of

many grown people, including teachers.

But the oral treatment of stories has a tendency to work out into modes

of activity even more effective than those just described.

In recent years, since so much oral work has been done in elementary

schools, children have been encouraged also to express themselves freely

in blackboard drawings and in pencil work at their desks by way of

illustrating the stories told. Moreover, in paper cutting, to represent

persons and scenes, in clay modelling, to mould objects presented, and

in constructive and building efforts, in making forts, tents, houses,

tools, dress, and in showing up modes of life, the children have found

free scope for their physical and mental activities. These have not only

led to greater clearness and vividness in their mental conceptions, but

have opened out new fields of self-activity and inventiveness.

So long as work in reading and literature was confined to the book

exercises, nearly all these modes of expression were little employed and

even tabooed.

Finally, the free use of oral narrative in the literature of early

years, in story-telling and its attendant modes of expression, opens up

to primary teachers a rare opportunity of becoming genuine educators.

There was a time, and it still continues with many primary teachers,

when teaching children to read was a matter of pure routine, of formal

verbal drills and repetitions, as tiresome to the teacher, if possible,

as to the little ones. But now that literature, with its treasures of

thought and feeling, of culture and refinement, has become the staple of

the primary school, teachers have a wide and rich field of inspiring

study. The mastery and use of much of the preferred literature which has

dropped down to us out of the past is the peculiar function of the

primary teacher. Contact with great minds, like those of Kingsley,

Ruskin, Andersen, the Grimm brothers, Stevenson, Dickens, Hawthorne, De

Foe, Browning, AEsop, Homer, and the unknown authors of many of the best

ballads, epics, and stories, is enough to give the primary teacher a

sense of the dignity of her work. On the other hand, the opportunity to

give to children the free and versatile development of their active

powers is an equal encouragement.

Teachers who have taken up with zeal this great problem of introducing

children to their full birthright, the choice literature of the world

suited to their years, and of linking this story work with primary

reading so as to give it vitality,--such teachers have found school life

assuming new and unwonted charms; the great problems of the educator

have become theirs; the broadened opportunity for the acquisition of

varied skill and professional efficiency has given a strong ambitious

tone to their work.

CHAPTER II

THE BASIS OF SKILL IN ORAL WORK

Accepting the statement that skill in oral presentation of a story is a

prime demand in early education, the important question for teachers is

how to cultivate their resources in this phase of teaching, how to

become good story-tellers.

It may be remarked that, for the great majority of people, story-telling

is not a gift but an acquisition. There are, of course, occasional

geniuses, but they may be left out of consideration. They are not often

found in the schoolroom any more than in other walks of life. What we

need is a practical, sensible development of a power which we all

possess in varying degrees. Nor is it the fluent, volatile, verbose

talker who makes a good oral teacher, but rather one who can see and

think clearly: one who knows how to combine his ideas and experiences

into clear and connected series of thought.

We may proceed, therefore, to a discussion of the needs and resources of

a good story-teller.

1. Without much precaution it may be stated that he should have a rich

experience in all the essential realities of human life. This covers a

large field of common things and refers rather to contact with life

than to mere book knowledge. Yet it is the depth, heartiness, and

variety of knowledge rather than the source from which it springs that

concerns us. Books often give us just this deep penetrating experience,

as soon as we learn how to select and use them. We need to know human

life directly and in all sorts of acts, habits, feelings, motives, and

conditions,--something as Shakespeare knew it, only within the compass

of our narrower possibilities. Likewise the physical world with its

visible and invisible forces and objects besetting us on every side.

These things must impress themselves upon us vividly in detail as well

as in the bulk. The hand that has been calloused by skill-producing

labor, the back that aches with burdens bravely borne, the brain that

has sweat with strong effort, are expressions of this kind of knowledge

of the world. Clear-grained perceptions are acquired from many sources:

from travel, labor, books, reflection, sickness, observation. I go

to-day into a small shop where heavy oak beer-kegs are made, and watch

the man working this refractory material into water-tight kegs that will

stand hard usage at the hands of hard drinkers for twenty years. If my

mind has been at work as I watch this man for an hour, with his heavy

rough staves made by hand, his tools and machines, his skill and strong

muscular action, the amount and profit of his labor, that man's work has

gone deep into my whole being. I can almost live his life in an hour's

time, and feel its contact with the acute problems of our modern

industrial life. That is a kind of knowledge and experience worth fully

as much as a sermon in Trinity Church or a University lecture.

The teacher needs a great store of these concrete facts and

illustrations. Without them he is a carpenter without tools or boards.

He needs to know industries, occupations, good novels, typical life

scenes, sunsets, sorrows, joys, inventions, poets, farmers--all such

common, tangible things. Even from fools and blackguards he can get

experiences that will last him a lifetime if they only strike in and do

not flare off into nothingness.

Social experience in all sorts of human natures, disposition, and

environing circumstance is immediately valuable to the teacher.

Close acquaintance with children, with their early feelings and

experiences, with their timidity or boldness, with their whims or

conceits, their dislikes and preferences, their enthusiasms and

interests, with their peculiar home and neighborhood experiences and

surroundings, with their games and entertainments, with the books and

papers they read, with their dolls and playthings, their vacations and

outings, with their pets and playhouses, with their tools and mechanical

contrivances--all these and other like realities of child life put the

teacher on a footing of possible appreciation and sympathy with

children. These are the materials and facts which a good teacher knows

how to work up in oral recitations.

Of course the kindly, sympathetic social mood which is not fretted by

others' frailties and perversities, but, like Irving or Addison,

exhibits a liberal charity or humorous affection for all things human,

is a fortunate possession or acquisition for the teacher.

2. It may be said also, without fear of violent contradiction, that a

teacher needs to be a master of the story he is about to tell. It may be

well to spread out to view the important things necessary to such a

mastery. The reading over of the story till its facts and episodes have

become familiar and can be reproduced in easy narrative is at least a

minimum requirement. Even this moderate demand is much more serious than

the old text-book routine in history or reading, where the teacher, with

one eye on the book, the other on the class, and his finger at the

place, managed to get the questions before the class in a fixed order.

Let us look a little beneath the surface of the story. What is its

central idea, the author's aim or motive in producing it? Not a little

effort and reflection may be necessary to get at the bottom of this

question. Some of the most famous stories, like "Aladdin," "Gulliver's

Travels," and the "City Musicians," may be so wild and wayward as to

elude or blunt the point of this question. The story may have a hard

shell, but the sharp teeth of reflection will get at the sweet kernel

within, else the story is not worth while. In some of the stories, like

"Baucis and Philemon," "The Great Stone Face," "The Pied Piper of

Hamelin," "The Discontented Pine Tree," and "Hiawatha's Fasting," the

main truth is easily reflected from the story and caught up even by the

children.

This need for getting at the heart of the story is clearly seen in all

the subsequent work. It is the exercise of such a critical judgment

which qualifies the teacher to discriminate between good and poor

stories. In the treatment of the story the essential topics are laid out

upon the basis of this controlling idea or motive. The leading aims and

carefully worded questions point toward this central truth. The side

lights and attendant episodes are arranged with reference to it like the

scenes in a drama. The effort to get at the central truth and the

related ideas is a sifting-out process, a mode of assimilating and

mastering the story more thorough-going than the mere memorizing of the

facts and words for the purpose of narration. The thought-getting

self-activity and common-sense logic which are involved in this mode of

assimilating a story are good for both pupils and teacher.

The mastery of a story needed by an oral teacher implies abundance of

resource in illustrative device and explanation. When children fail to

grasp an idea, it is necessary to fall back upon some familiar object

or experience not mentioned in the book. Emergencies arise which tax the

teacher's ingenuity to the utmost. Even the children will raise queries

that baffle his wit. In preparing a story for the classroom it is

necessary to see it from many sides, to foresee these problems and

difficulties. Oftentimes the collateral knowledge derived from history

or geography or from similar episodes in other stories will suggest the

solution.

It is a favorite maxim of college teachers and of those who deal mostly

with adults or older pupils, that if a person knows a thing he can teach

it. Leaving out of account the numerous cases of those who are well

posted in their subjects, but cannot teach, it is well to note the

scope, variety, and thoroughness of knowledge necessary to a good

teacher to handle it skilfully with younger children. Besides the

thorough knowledge of the subject which scholars have demanded, it

requires an equally clear knowledge of the mental resources of children,

the language which they can understand, the things which attract their

interest and attention, and the ways of holding the attention of a group

of children of different capacities, temper, and disposition. Any

dogmatic professor who thinks he can teach the story of "Cinderella" or

Andersen's "Five Peas in the Pod," because he has a full knowledge of

the facts of the story, should make trial of his skill upon a class of

twenty children in the first grade. We suggest, however, that he do it

quietly, without inviting in his friends to witness his triumph.

No, the mastery of the subject needed for an effective handling of it in

oral work is different and is greater than they have yet dreamed of who

think that mere objective knowledge is all that is needed by a teacher.

The application of knowledge to life is generally difficult, more taxing

by far than the mere acquisition of facts and principles. But the use of

one's knowledge in the work of instructing young children, in getting

them to acquire and assimilate it, is perhaps the most difficult of all

forms of the application of knowledge. It is difficult because it is so

complex. To think clearly and accurately on some topic for one's single

self is not easy, but to get twenty children of varying capacities and

weaknesses, with their stumbling, acquisitive, flaring minds, to keep

step along one clear line of thought is a piece of daring enterprise.

The mastery of the story, therefore, for successful oral work, must be

detailed, comprehensive, many-sided, and adapted to the fluttering

thoughts of childhood.

3. The chief instrument through which the teacher communicates the story

is oral speech, and this he needs to wield with discriminating skill and

power. Preachers and lecturers, when called upon to talk to children,

nearly always talk over their heads, using language not appropriate and

comprehensible to children. Those accustomed to deal with little folks

are quickly sensitive to this amateur awkwardness. Young teachers just

out of the higher schools make the same blunder. They are also inclined

to think that fluency and verbosity are a sign of power. But such false

tinsel makes no impression upon children except confusion of thought.

Children require simple, direct words, clearly defined in thought and

grounded upon common experience and conviction. Facts and realities

should stand behind the words of a teacher. What he seeks to marshal

before children is people and things. Words should serve as photographs

of objects; instantaneous views of experiences. In some social and

diplomatic circles words are said to conceal thought, but this kind of

verbal diplomacy has no place in schools.

It is an interesting question how far the language and style of the

authors should be preserved by the narrator. It would be an error to

forbid the exact use of the author's words and an equal error to require

it. It seems reasonable to say that the teacher should become absorbed

in the author's style and mode of presenting the story. This will lead

to a close approximation to the author's words, without any slavish

imitation. In the midst of oral presentation and discussion it would be

impossible to hold strictly to the original. The teacher's own language

and conception of the story will press in to simplify and clarify the

meaning. No one holds strictly to a literary style in telling a story.

Conversational ideas and original momentary impulses of thought demand

their own forms of utterance. And yet it is well to appropriate the

style and expression of the writer so as to accustom the children to the

best forms. A few very apt and forcible sentences will be found in any

good author which the teacher will naturally employ.

But the teacher must have freedom. When he has once thoroughly

appropriated the story he must give vent to his own spontaneity and

power. Later, when the children come to read these stories, they will

enjoy them in their full literary form.

4. The power of clear and interesting presentation of a story is one of

the chief professional acquisitions of a good primary teacher. It

involves many things besides language, including liveliness of manner,

gesture, facial expression, action, dramatic impersonation, skill in

blackboard illustration, good humor and tact in working with children, a

strong imagination, and a real appreciation for the literature adapted

to children.

Perhaps the fundamental need is simplicity and clearness of thought and

language combined with a pleasing and attractive manner. Vague and

incomprehensible thoughts and ideas are all out of place. The teacher

should be strict with himself in this matter, and while reading and

mastering the story, should use compulsion upon himself to arrive at an

unmistakable clearness of thought. The objects, buildings, palaces,

woods, caves, animals, persons, and places should be sharply imaged by

the imagination; the feelings and passions of the actors should be

keenly realized. Often a vague and uncertain conception needs to be

scanned, the passage reread, and the notion framed into clearness. In

describing the palace of the sleeping beauty, begirt with woods, the

sentinels standing statuelike at the portal, the lords and ladies at

their employments, the teacher should think out the entrance way, hall,

rooms, and persons of the palace so clearly that his thought and

language will not stumble over uncertainties. Transparent clearness and

directness of thought are the result of effort and circumspection. They

are well worth the pains required to gain them. A teacher who thinks

clearly will generate clear habits of thought in children.

The power of interesting narrative and description is not easily

explained. It is a thing not readily analyzed into its elements. Perhaps

the best way to find out what it is may be discovered by reading the

great story-tellers, such as Macaulay, Irving, Kingsley, De Foe,

Hawthorne, Homer, Plutarch, Scott, and Dickens. Novelists like George

Eliot, Victor Hugo, Cooper, Scott, and Dickens, possess this secret

also, and even some of the historians, as Herodotus, Fiske, Green,

Parkman, Motley, and others. It is not so important that a teacher

should give a cold analysis of their qualities as that he should fall

insensibly into the vivid and realistic style of the best story-tellers.

One who has read Pyle's Robin Hood stories until they are familiar will,

to a considerable extent, appropriate his fertile and happy Old-English

style, the sturdy English spirit of bold Robin, his playful humor, and

his apt utterance of homely truths.

There are certain qualities that stand out prominently in the good

story-tellers. They are simple and concrete in their descriptions, they

deal very little in general, vague statements or abstractions, they hold

closely to the persons of the story in the midst of interesting

surroundings, they are profuse in the use of distinct figures of speech,

appealing to the fancy or imagination. They often have a humorous vein

which gives infinite enjoyment and spreads a happy charity throughout

the world.

The art of graphic illustration on the blackboard is in almost constant

demand in oral work. Even rude and untechnical sketches by teachers who

have no acquired skill in artistic drawing are of the greatest value in

giving a quick and accurate perception of places, buildings, persons,

and surrounding conditions of a story or action. The map of Crusoe's

island, the drawings to represent his tent, cave, boat, country

residence, fortifications, dress, utensils, and battles are natural and

simple modes of realizing clearly his labors and adventures. They save

much verbal description and circumlocution. The teacher needs to

acquire absolute boldness and freedom in using such illustrative

devices. The children will, of course, catch this spirit, as they are by

nature inclined to use drawing as a mode of expression.

A similar freedom in the teacher is necessary in the use of bodily

action, gesture, and facial expression in story-telling. The teacher

needs to become natural, childlike, and mobile in these things; for

children are naturally much given to such demonstrations in the

expression of their thought. Little girls of three and four years in the

home, when free from self-consciousness, are marvellously and

delightfully expressive by means of eyes, gestures, hands, and arms and

whole bodily attitudes. Why should not this naive expressiveness be

gently fostered in the school? Indeed it is, and in many schools the

little ones are as happy and whole-souled and spontaneous in their modes

of expression as we have suggested.

Dramatization, if cultivated, extends a teacher's gamut of

expressiveness. Our inability or slowness to respond to this suggestion

is a sign of a certain narrowness or cramp in our culture and training.

In Normal schools where young teachers are trained in the art of

reading, the dramatic instinct should be strongly developed. The power

to other one's self in dramatic action, to assume and impersonate a

variety of characters, is a real expression and enlargement of the

personality. It demands sympathy and feeling as well as intellectual

insight. The study and reading of the great dramatists, the seeing of

good plays, amateur efforts in this direction, the frequent oral reading

of Shakespeare, Dickens, and other dramatists and novelists will

cultivate and enlarge the teacher's power in this worthy and wholesome

art.

The use of good pictures is also an important means of adding to the

beauty and clearness of stories. The pictures of Indian life in

"Hiawatha," the illustrated editions of "Robinson Crusoe," the copies of

ancient works of art in some editions of the Greek myths, Howard Pyle's

illustrated "Robin Hood," and other books of this character add greatly

to the vividness of ideas. Such pictures should be handled with care,

not distributed promiscuously among the children while the lesson is

going on. The teacher needs to study a picture, and discuss it

intelligently with the children, asking questions which bring out its

representative qualities.

It is evident the skilful oral presentation of a story calls out no

small degree of clear knowledge, force of language, illustrative device,

dramatic instinct, and a freedom and versatility of action both mental

and physical.

5. A clear outline of leading points in a story is a source of strength

to the teacher and the basis later of good reproductive work by the

children. The short stories in the first grade hardly need a formal

outline, and even in second grade the sequence of ideas in a story is

often so simple and easy that outlines of leading topics may not be

needed. But in third and fourth grade it is well in the preliminary

study and mastery of a story to divide it up into clearly marked

segments, with a distinctive title for each division. It is difficult to

get teachers to do this kind of close logical work, and still more

difficult to have them remember it in the midst of oral presentation and

discussion. If the main points of the story as thus outlined are placed

upon the blackboard as the narrative advances, it keeps in mind a clear

survey of the whole and serves as the best basis for the children's

reproduction of the story. It compels both teacher and pupils to keep to

a close logical connection of ideas and a sifting out of the story to

get at the main points. Without these well-constructed outlines the

memory of the story is apt to fall into uncertainty and confusion, and

the children's reproduction becomes fragmentary and disorderly.

Experience shows that teachers are prone to be loose and careless in

bringing their stories into such a well-ordered series of distinct

topics. It is really a sign of a thoughtful, logical, and judicious

mastery of a subject to have thrown it thus into its prominent points of

narration. Oral work often fails of effectiveness and thoroughness,

because of these careless habits of teachers. Such an outline, when put

into the children's regular note-books, serves as the best basis for

later surveys and reviews.

6. The oral narration and presentation of stories has a curious way of

being turned into _development lessons_, in which the teacher deals in

questions and problematic situations and the children work out many of

the facts and incidents of the story by a series of guesses and

inferences. These are well known as development lessons, and they are

capable of exhibiting the highest forms of excellence in teaching or the

most drivelling waste of time. The subject is a hard one to handle, but

it needs a clear and simple elucidation as much as any problem in the

teaching profession. Generally speaking it is better for young teachers

not to launch out recklessly upon the full tide of development

instruction. It is better to learn the handling of the craft on quieter

waters. Development work needs to be well charted. The varying winds and

currents, storms and calms, need to be studied and experienced before

one may become a good ship's master. Let young teachers first acquire

power in clear, simple, direct narration and description, using apt and

forcible language and holding to a clear-cut line of thought. This is no

slight task, and when once mastered and fixed in habit becomes the

foundation of a wider freedom and skill in development exercises. The

works of the great story-tellers furnish excellent models of this sort

of skill, and teachers may follow closely in the lines struck out by

Scott or Hawthorne in narrating a story.

A book story cannot do otherwise than simply narrate; it cannot develop,

set problems and questions and have children to find solutions and

answers. It must tell the facts and answer the questions. But in oral

narration there is room not only for all the skill of the story-writer,

but also the added force of voice, personality, lively manner, gesture,

action, and close adaptation to the immediate needs of children and

subject. This is enough to command the undivided effort of the young

teacher at first, without entering the stormy waters and shifting

currents of pure development work.

Yet the spirited teacher will not go far in narrating a story without a

tendency to ask questions to intensify the children's thought, or to

quicken the discussion of interesting points. Even if the teachers or

parents are but reading a good story from a book, it is most natural, at

times, to ask questions about the meaning of certain new words, or

geographical locations, or probabilities in the working out of the

story. These are the simple beginnings of development work, and produce

greater thoughtfulness, keener perceptions of the facts, and a better

absorption of the story into a child's previous knowledge.

A sharp limitation of development work is also found in the circumstance

that a large share of the facts in a story cannot by any sort of

ingenuity be developed. They form the necessary basis for later

development questions. Even many of the facts which might be developed

by a skilful teacher are better told directly, because of the difficulty

and time-devouring nature of the process. There may be a few central

problems in every story, which, after the necessary facts and conditions

have been plainly told, can be thoroughly sifted out by questions,

answers, and discussions. But to work out all the little details of a

story by question and surmise, to get the crude, unbaked opinions of all

the members of a class upon every episode and fact in a story, is a

pitiful caricature of good instruction.

The purpose of good development work is to get children to go deeper

into the meaning of a story, to realize its situations more keenly, and

to acquire habits of thoughtfulness, self-reliant judgment, and

inventiveness in solving difficulties. These results, and they are among

the chiefest set for the educator, cannot be accomplished by mere

narration and description. Their superior excellence and worth are the

prize of that superior skill which first-class development work demands.

With these preliminary remarks, criticisms, and limitations in mind, we

may inquire what are the essentials of good development work in oral

lessons.

(1) Determine what parts of a story are capable of development; what

facts must be clearly present to the mind before questions can be put

and inferences derived. In a problem in arithmetic we first state the

known facts, the conditions upon which a solution can be based, and

then put a question whose answer is to be gained by a proper conjunction

and inference from these facts. The same thing is true in reasoning upon

the facts in a story.

(2) In placing a topic before children it is always advisable to touch

up the knowledge already possessed by the children, or any parts of

their previous experience which have strong interpretative ideas for the

new lesson. At this point apt questions which probe quickly into their

_previous knowledge and experience_ are at a premium. The teacher needs

to have considered beforehand in what particulars the children's home

surroundings and peculiar circumstances may furnish the desired

knowledge. The form of the questions may also receive close attention.

For these words must provoke definite thought. They should have hooks on

them which quickly drag experience into light.

(3) In order to give direction to the children's thoughts on the story's

line of progress, _interesting aims_ should be set up. These aims,

without anticipating precise results, must guide the children towards

the desired ends and turning-points in the story. The mind should be

kept in suspense as to the outcome, and the thoughts should centre and

play about these clearly projected aims. Such aims, floating constantly

in the van, are the objective points, towards which the energy of

thought is directed. Every good story-teller keeps such aims expressly

or tacitly in view. Novelists and dramatists hinge the interest of

readers or spectators upon this curiosity which is kept acutely

sensitive about results. Such an aim should be simple and concrete, not

vague or abstract, or general. It may be put in the form of a question

or statement or suggestion. It will be a good share of the teacher's

work in the preparation of the lesson to pick out and word these aims

which centre upon the leading topics of the lesson. For it is not enough

to have an aim at the beginning of a story, every chapter or separate

part of the story should have its aim. For aims are what stimulate

effort and keep up an attentive interest.

(4) Self-activity and thoughtfulness in working out problems find their

best opportunity in development work. The book, in narrating a story,

cannot set problems, or, if it does, it forthwith assumes the task of

solving them. But in the oral development of a story the essential facts

and conditions may be clearly presented and the solution of the

difficulties, as in arithmetic, left largely to the ingenuity and

reasoning power of the children. In the story of Hiawatha's

boat-building the problem may be set to the children as to what

materials he will use in the construction of the canoe, how the parts

were put together, and how he might decorate it. Not that the children

will give the whole solution, but they can contribute much to it. In

"Robinson Crusoe" many such problems arise. How shall he conceal his

cave and house from possible enemies? Where can he store his powder to

keep it from the lightning and from dampness? In fact, nearly every step

in Crusoe's interesting career is such a problem or difficulty to battle

with. In Kingsley's "Greek Heroes" and other renderings of the Greek

myths, the heroes are young men who have shrewdness, courage, and

strength to overcome difficulties. To put these difficulties before

children in such a way that they by their own thinking may anticipate,

in part at least, the proper solutions, is one of the chief merits of

development work. The story of Ulysses is a series of shrewd

contrivances to master difficulties or to avoid misfortunes, so that his

name has become a synonym for shrewdness. The story itself, therefore,

furnishes prime opportunities to develop resourcefulness. How shall he

escape from the enraged Polyphemos in the cave? His invention of the

wooden horse before Troy; his escape from the sirens; his battle with

the suitors and others. The story of Aladdin has such interesting

inventions, and even the fairy tales and fables have many turns of

shrewdness and device where the children's wits may be stimulated. The

turning-points and centres of interest in all such stories are the true

wrestling-grounds of thought. To put them point-blank before children in

continuous narrative, without question or discussion, is not the way to

produce thoughtfulness and inventive power. Merely reading or telling

stories to children without comment is entertaining, but not educative

in the better sense. Children will have plenty of chances at home and in

the school library to read and hear stories, but it is the business of

the school to teach them how to think as they read, to produce a habit

of foreseeing, reviewing, comparing, and judging. The serious defect of

much of young people's reading, from ten years on, is its superficial,

transitory character. It lacks depth, strength, and permanency. It is

not many stories that can be orally treated in this thorough-going way,

but enough to give the right idea, and to cultivate habit and taste for

more thoughtful study.

For skilled teachers, therefore, development lessons, within certain

limits, constitute a most important phase of oral instruction. It has

been sometimes assumed that a child acquires greater self-reliance and a

stronger exercise in self-activity by learning his lesson by himself

from a book. This is probably true in much of the arithmetic, where he

works out the solution of problems unaided; but in history and

literature the book work is chiefly memory work, and oftentimes becomes

of such parrot-like character as to be almost destitute of higher

educative qualities. It is advisable, therefore, to strengthen the

educative value of story work by giving it, through oral instruction,

this problem-solving character, this thought-stimulating, self-reliant

attitude of mind.

7. When the teacher has shown his best skill in presenting and

discussing a section of a story, it then devolves upon the children to

show their knowledge and grasp of the subject by reproducing it. The

task of getting this well done requires, perhaps, as much skill and

force of character as all previous work of oral instruction. Obstacles

are met with at once. It is dull work to go back over the same thing

again, and the children soon get tired of it. They want something new

and more exciting, and press for the rest of the story. Many children

are at first deficient in power of attention and in language, so that

their efforts at reproduction are clumsy and poor. The interest is weak,

the attention of the children scattering, and the class is apt to go to

pieces under the strain of such dull work. This is an emergency where a

teacher needs both skill and force of character. (What a comfort it is

to a writer to have such a platitude as this to fall back upon, when he

gets a teacher into a place where nothing but his own devices can save

him.)

There are, however, some hopeful considerations which may encourage a

teacher whose feet are not already too deep in the bog of

discouragement.

Children enjoy the retelling of good stories with which they are

familiar. They will do it at home, even if they are not very proficient

at it in school. In every class there are some talkative children who

are always willing to make an effort. Again, it is not always difficult

to interest boys and girls in doing a thing that requires skill and

power, such as memory, attentiveness, and mastery of correct language.

The force of the teacher's influence and authority is worth something in

setting up high standards of proficiency. Indeed, children respect a

teacher who makes rigorous demands upon them. The retelling of stories

is, after all, no harder nor duller than the reciting of a lesson

learned out of a book.

On the other hand, the whole effectiveness of oral work depends upon the

success of these oral reproductions. If children know that the teacher

is in earnest they will be more attentive, so as to be able to fulfil

the requirement. Such a reproduction reveals at once a child's correct

or incorrect grasp of the subject, and in either case the teacher knows

what to do next. Errors and misconceptions can be corrected and such

explanations or additional facts given as will clarify the subject.

In such reproductions it is praiseworthy to help the children as little

as possible, to throw them back upon their own power as much as

possible. If the teacher constantly relieves them with suggestive

questions, they lean more and more upon her direction and lose all

self-reliant power of continuous narrative. No, let the teacher keep a

prudent silence, let her seal her lips, if necessary, in order to teach

boys and girls to stand on their own power of thought.

Under this sort of discipline, kindly but rigorous, children will

gradually acquire confidence in manner, variety and choice of language,

in short, the ability to grasp clearly, hold firmly, and express

accurately the ideas which are presented to them.

The whole purpose of this sort of instruction is not so much to see how

skilfully a teacher can present a lesson (though that is a fine art) as

to determine how well a boy or girl can master or express knowledge, can

learn to think and speak for himself.

8. Some teachers despair of treating stories orally in large classes of

primary children. The task of holding together such wriggling varieties

of mental force and mental inertia is great. Some children are quick and

excitable, others are unresponsive and dull. Some are timid and

sensitive, others bold and demonstrative. Some are talkative and

irrepressible, others silent or listless.

It is interesting to consider the function and value of a good child's

story to fit in to such varying needs and personalities. If the purpose

of the primary school is simply to keep children busy at some kind of

orderly work, there are other tamer employments than stories. But if the

idea is to put children's minds and bodies into healthy, vigorous

action, it would be difficult to find a more suitable instrument than a

fitting story.

But a good primary teacher knows better than to establish brusque and

fixed standards of uniform success for all children. It will take much

time and patience to get anything like good oral responses from some

children. Like budding flowers some unfold their leaves and petals much

quicker at the touch of sunshine than others. But the sun does not stop

shining because all do not come out at once. The crudest efforts of

little children must be received with kindness and encouragement. The

power of reproducing thought and language is very slowly acquired by

many children. They are timidly self-conscious, distrustful of their own

powers, and have not learned to throw themselves with confidence upon

the good-will of their teachers. It may take months with some children

to overcome these obstacles, and to bring them to a confident use of

their powers, but it is the highest delight of a teacher to reach this

result.

Some children, on the other hand, are so talkative and impulsive that

they will monopolize the time of the class to no good purpose. Their

enthusiasm requires tempering and their soberer thought strengthening.

Another difficulty lies in the necessary effort to get correct English,

to gradually mould the language of children into correct forms. The

perverse habits of children, the influence of home and playground, the

inveterate preference for slang and crude, crass expressions, and their

sensitive pride against unusual refinements of speech, make the

cultivation of good English an uphill task. But roads must be laid out

through this wilderness of hills and valleys, stumps and brush. And

these roads must be gradually worked down into smooth highways of

travel. It is pioneer toil, requiring the steady use of axe and mattock

and spade.

There is no kind of school training where good English can be cultivated

to better advantage, where the power of correct, independent,

well-articulated speech can be so well strengthened as in oral story. It

is in the close contact of this work that the teacher is dealing

directly with the original stock of experiences, ideas, and words of

every child, and with these as instruments of acquisition, helping him

to get a spirited introduction to the world of ideas in books and

literature.

It is here that we can get a glimpse of that vast work which the

elementary schools of the country are doing in the way of Americanizing

the children of various nationalities and in giving them not only a

common language, but a common body of ideas rooted in the earliest

experiences of childhood and already laying hold of many of the richest

treasures of American history and of the world's literature.

9. As children advance from the first year into the second and third

years the character of the oral story-telling gradually changes.

Children should acquire more power of attention, greater command of

language and ability to grasp and hold at one telling a larger section

of a story. The stories themselves become more complex, the questions

and problems set by the teacher more difficult. The necessity for sharp,

logical outlines of leading topics increases as one advances in the

grades. Older children can be held more rigidly to common standards of

excellence in thought and language. In this, however, the teacher should

always remember that children differ greatly in their natural powers of

expression, and that a forcing process will not be so successful as a

stimulating and encouraging attitude in the teacher.

10. The good oral treatment of most stories leads the children to much

activity in material constructions. Where the minds of children are

brought to a healthy activity their bodies and physical energies are

pretty sure to be called into play to work out the suggested lines of

thought. "Robinson Crusoe" invariably leads the children to a multitude

of building and making enterprises, such as moulding vessels in clay,

constructing the barricade around his tent and cave, the making of

chairs and tables, etc.

We have already noticed the readiness of children to make blackboard or

other drawings of interesting objects in a story, or to cut them out

with scissors from paper. This effort to experience the realities of

life more directly by making objects of common utility and necessity is

a characteristic and powerful tendency of childhood. It is commonly seen

in children about the house, when, for example, they must have wagons,

wheelbarrows, tools, or a set of garden implements with which to imitate

the employments of their elders. Parkman and others often speak of the

constant practice of little Indian boys with bow and arrows.

Our purpose here is not to discuss this matter at length, but simply to

notice its prominent place in connection with the oral lesson in story.

The intense interest awakened in stories leads quickly to these efforts

at construction. What shall the teacher do with this powerful tendency

of children to carry over these ideas into the field of practical

constructive labor? To the thinker this tendency is perhaps the surest

proof of the value of the story. It does not stop with words nor ideas.

It pushes far into the region of voluntary, physical, and mental labor

and application of knowledge.

The teacher who will make good use of this enterprising constructive

desire of children must know definitely about tools, boards, shops,

various industries, and technical trades, the special materials,

inventions, and devices of artisans in the common occupations, such as

farming, gardening, blacksmithing, the carpenter shop, the baker, the

quarry, the brick kiln, etc.

It will not be strange if many teachers recoil, at first glance, from

this leap into industrial life. It suggests that the schoolhouse must

become a big machine shop, agricultural station, etc. The trouble is, of

course, that teachers do not feel themselves qualified in these things.

They know almost as little as the children about such matters, and have

much less inclination to know more.

But our modern education is taking a decided turn in this direction, and

with good reason. The close acquaintance of our teachers with the common

occupations of life, with their materials, tools, machines,

constructions, and skill would supply them with a rich collection of

practical, concrete, illustrative knowledge of the greatest use in

instructing children. It is impossible to mention anything which would

be of more service to them in the details of instruction. The advantages

to the children of such teaching, re-enforced by this concrete detail of

common life, are so numerous and important as to deserve a special

effort. The benefit to teachers would quickly more than recompense them

for the labor involved. By occasional visits of observation in shops,

fields, stores, and factories, by assisting children in their

constructive efforts, the teacher will acquire knowledge, strength, and

confidence for such work. The unfamiliarity of teachers with these

everyday industrial matters, and their feeling of helplessness as

regards things not in the usual routine of school, are the real

hindrances to be overcome.

There are other subjects in the school course, like home geography and

the early lessons in nature study, which deal more directly than stories

with these practical forms of industrial life and constructive

activity. They will also demand and cultivate an increasing knowledge of

this practical phase of life and education. The lessons in oral

story-telling stand thus closely linked with progressive experimental

knowledge in other studies.

A brief retrospect and summary of the requirements necessary as a basis

of good oral treatment of stories will impress us with the skill and

resourcefulness needed by the teacher.

1. First-hand experience with the realities of life.

2. Intimate knowledge and sympathy with child life.

3. The many-sided mastery of the story for teaching purposes.

4. Skill in the use of simple, apt, and forcible language.

5. Power of narrative and description, together with various forms of

graphic illustration, dramatic action, etc.

6. Clear and simple outline of leading topics.

7. Acquired power in the use of development methods, including question,

problem, discussion, aims, and the training of children to self-activity

and thoughtfulness.

8. The successful oral reproduction of stories by the children.

9. Tact in the handling of large classes, with children of differing

temperament and capacity, and the encouragement of timid children.

10. Changing character of oral work in advancing grades.

11. The need of insight and ability to supervise constructive

activities.

These things include a wide range of clear knowledge and confident skill

and resource. Teachers need first of all to cultivate resourcefulness in

the use of their own knowledge and experience, and to add to both of

these as rapidly as circumstances permit.

The mere reading of stories to children by the teacher, at odd times, on

Friday afternoons or on special occasions, is also of much value as a

means of interesting children in a wide range of good books. It is a

source of entertainment and culture, which, when judiciously and

skilfully employed, adds much to the educative power of the school.

CHAPTER III

FIRST GRADE STORIES

FAIRY TALES

Young children, as we all know, are delighted with stories, and in the

first grade they are still in this story-loving period. A good story is

the best medium through which to convey ideas and also to approach the

difficulties of learning to read. Such a story, Wilmann says, is a

pedagogical treasure. By many thinkers and primary teachers the fairy

stories have been adopted as best suited to the wants of the little folk

just emerging from the home. A series of fairy tales was selected by

Ziller, one of the leading Herbartians, as a centre for the school work

of the first year. These stories have long held a large place in the

home culture of children, especially of the more cultivated class. Now

it is claimed that what is good for the few whose parents may be

cultured and sympathetic, may be good enough for the children of the

common people and of the poor. Moreover, stories that have made the

fireside more joyous and blessed may perchance bring vivacity and

happiness into schoolrooms. The home and the school are coming closer

together. It is even said that well-trained, sympathetic primary

teachers may better tell and impress these stories than overworked

mothers and busy fathers. If these literary treasures are left for the

homes to discover and use, the majority of children will know little or

nothing of them. Many schools in this country have been using them in

the first grade in recent years with a pleasing effect.

But what virtue lies concealed in these fairy myths for the children of

our practical and sensible age? Why should we draw from fountains whose

sources are back in the prehistoric and even barbarous past? To many

people it appears as a curious anachronism to nourish little children in

the first decade of this new century upon food that was prepared in the

tents of wandering tribes in early European history. What are the merits

of these stories for children just entering upon scholastic pursuits?

They are known to be generally attractive to children of this age, but

many sober-minded people distrust them. Are they really meat and drink

for the little ones? And not only so, but the choicest meat and drink,

the best food upon which to nourish their unfolding minds?

Fairy tales are charged with misleading children by falsifying the truth

of things. And, indeed, they pay little heed to certain natural laws

that practical people of good sense always respect. A child, however, is

not so humdrum practical as these serious truth-lovers. A little girl

talks to her doll as if it had real ears. She and her little brother

make teacups and saucers out of acorns with no apparent compunctions of

conscience. They follow Cinderella to the ball in a pumpkin chariot,

transformed by magic wand, with even greater interest than we read of a

presidential ball. A child may turn the common laws of physical nature

inside out and not be a whit the worse for it. Its imagination can

people a pea-pod with little heroes aching for a chance in the big

world, or it can put tender personality into the trunk and branches of

the little pine tree in the forest. There are no space limits that a

child's fancy will not spring over in a twinkling. It can ride from star

to star on a broomstick, or glide over peaceful waters in a fairy boat

drawn by graceful swans. Without suggestion from mother or teacher,

children put life and personality into their playthings. Their

spontaneous delights are in this playful exercise of the fancy, in

masquerading under the guise of a soldier, bear, horse, or bird. The

fairy tale is the poetry of children's inner impulse and feeling; their

sparkling eyes and absorbed interest show how fitting is the contact

between these childlike creations of the poet and their own budding

thoughts.

In discussing the qualities requisite in a fairy story to make it a

pedagogical treasure, Wilmann says:[1] "When it is laid down as a first

and indispensable requirement that a story be genuinely childlike, the

demand sounds less rigorous than it really is. It is easier to feel

than to describe the qualities which lend to a story the true childlike

spirit. It is not simplicity alone. A simple story that can be

understood by a child is not on that account childlike. The simplicity

must be the ingenuousness of the child. Close to this lies the abyss of

silliness into which so many children's stories tumble. A simple story

may be manufactured, but the quality of true simplicity will not be

breathed into it unless one can draw from the deeper springs of poetic

invention. It is not enough that the externals of the story, such as

situation and action, have this character, but the sensibilities and

motives of the actors must be ingenuous and childlike; they should

reflect the child's own feeling, wish, and effort. But it is not

necessary on this account that the persons of the story be children.

Indeed the king, prince, and princess, if they only speak and act like

children, are much nearer the child's comprehension than any of the

children paraded in a manufactured story, designed for the 'industrious

youth.' For just as real poetry so the real child's story lies beyond

reality in the field of fancy. With all its plainness of thought and

action, the genuine child's story knows how to take hold of the child's

fancy and set its wings in motion. And what a meaning has fancy for the

soul of the child as compared with that of the adult. For us the

activity of fancy only sketches arabesques, as it were, around the

sharply defined pictures of reality. The child thinks and lives in such

arabesques, and it is only gradually that increasing experience writes

among these arabesques the firmer outlines of things. The child's

thoughts float about playfully and unsteadily, but the fairy tale is

even lighter winged than they. It overtakes these fleeting summer birds

and wafts them together without brushing the dust from their wings.

[1] Wilmann, _Paedagogische Vortraege_.

"But fostering the activity of fancy in children is a means, not an end.

It is necessary to enter the field of fancy because the way to the

child's heart leads through the fancy. The effect upon the heart of the

child is the second mark and proof of the genuine child's story. We are

not advocates of the so-called moral stories which are so short-winded

as to stop frequently and rest upon some moral commonplace. Platitudes

and moral maxims are not designed to develop a moral taste in the minds

of young children, for they appeal to the understanding and will of the

pupil and presuppose what must be first built up and established. True

moral training is rather calculated to awaken in the child judgments of

right and wrong, of good and evil (on simple illustrative examples). Not

the impression left by a moralizing discourse is the germ of a love of

the good and right, but rather the child's judgment springing from its

own conviction. 'That was good.' 'What a mean thing!'

"Those narratives have a moral force which introduce persons and acts

that are simple and transparent enough to let the moral light shine

through, that possess sufficient life to lend warmth and vigor to moral

judgments. No attempt to cover up or pass over what is bad, nor to paint

it in extravagant colors. For the bad develops the judgment no less than

the good. It remains only to have a care that a child's interest

inclines toward the good, the just, and the right."

Wilmann summarizes the essentials of a good story, and then discusses

the fairy tales as follows:--

"There are then five requirements to be made of a real child's story:

Let it be truly childlike, that is, both simple and full of fancy; let

it form morals in the sense that it introduces persons and matters

which, while simple and lively, call out a moral judgment of approval or

disapproval; let it be instructive and lead to thoughtful discussions of

society and nature; let it be of permanent value, inviting perpetually

to a reperusal; let it be a connected whole, so as to work a deeper

influence and become the source of a many-sided interest.

"The child's story which, on the basis of the aforenamed principles, can

be made the starting-point for all others, is Grimm's fairy tale of folk

lore. We are now called upon to show that the folk-lore fairy tale

answers to the foregoing requirements, and in this we shall see many a

ray of light cast back upon these requirements themselves.

"Is the German fairy tale childlike? full of simplicity as well as of

fancy? A deeply poetic saying of Jacob Grimm may teach us the answer.

'There runs through these poetic fairy tales the same deep vein of

purity by reason of which children seem to us so wonderful and blessed.

They have, as it were, the same pale-blue, clear, and lustrous eyes

which can grow no more although the other members are still delicate and

weak and unserviceable to the uses of earth.' Klaiber quotes this

passage in his 'Das Maerchen und die Kindliche Phantasie,' and says with

truth and beauty, 'Yes; when we look into the trusting eyes of a child,

in which none of the world's deceit is to be read as yet, when we see

how these eyes brighten and gleam at a beautiful fairy tale, as if they

were looking out into a great, wide, beautiful wonder-world, then we

feel something of the deep connection of the fairy story with the

childish soul.' We will bring forward one more passage from a little

treatise, showing depth and warmth of feeling, which stealthily takes

away from the doubters their scruples about the justification of the

fairy tale. 'It is strange how well the fairy tale and the child's soul

mutually understand each other. It is as if they had been together from

the very beginning and had grown up together. As a rule the child only

deals with that part of real life which concerns itself and children of

its age. Whatever lies beyond this is distant, strange, unintelligible.

Under the leading of the fairy tale, however, it permits itself to be

borne over hill and valley, over land and sea, through sun and moon and

stars, even to the end of the world, and everything is so near, so

familiar, so close to its reach, as if they had been everywhere before,

just as if obscure pictures within had all at once become wonderfully

distinct. And the fairies all, and the king's sons, and the other

distinguished personages, whom it learns to know through the fairy

tale,--they are as natural and intelligible as if the child had moved

its life long in the highest circles, and had had princes and princesses

for its daily playmates. In a word, the world of the fairy tale is the

child's world, for it is the world of fancy.'

"For this reason children live and move in fairyland, whether the

story be told by the mother or by the teacher in the primary school.

What attention as the story proceeds! What anxiousness when any

danger threatens the hero, be he king's son or a wheat-straw! What

grief, even to tears, when a wrong is practised upon some innocent

creature! And far from it that the joy in the fairy tale decrease

when it is told or discussed over again. Then comes the pleasure of

representation--bringing the story upon the stage. Though a child has

but to represent a flower in the meadow, the little face is transfigured

with the highest joy.

"But the childish joy of fairy tales passes away; not so the inner

experiences which it has brought with it. I am not affirming too much

when I say that he who, as a child, has never listened with joy to the

murmuring and rustling of the fresh fountain of fairyland, will have no

ear and no understanding for many a deep stream of German poetry. It is,

after all, the modest fountain of fairy song which, flowing and uniting

with the now noisy, now soft and gently flowing, current of folk song,

and with the deep and earnest stream of tradition, which has poured such

a refreshing current over German poetry, out of which our most excellent

Uhland has drawn so many a heart-strengthening draught.

"The spirit of the people finds expression in fairy tale as in tradition

and song, and if we were only working to lift and strengthen the

national impulse, a moral-educative instruction would have to turn again

and again to these creations of the people. What was asserted as a

general truth in regard to classical products, that they are a bond

between large and small, old and young, is true of national stories and

songs more than of anything else. They are at once a bond between the

different classes, a national treasure, which belongs alike to rich and

poor, high and low. The common school then has the least right of all to

put the fairy tale aside, now that few women versed in fairy lore, such

as those to whom Grimm listened, are left.

"But does the fairy tale come of noble blood? Does it possess what we

called in the case of classics an old title of nobility? If we keep to

this figure of speech, we shall find that the fairy tale is not only

noble, but a very royal child among stories. It has ruled from olden

times, far and wide, over many a land. Hundreds of years gone, Grimm's

fairy stories lived in the people's heart, and not in Germany alone. If

our little ones listen intently to Aschenputtel, French children

delighted in Cindrillon, the Italian in Cenerentola, the Polish in

Kopcinszic. The fact that mediaeval story-books contain Grimm's tales is

not remarkable, when we reflect that traits and characteristics of the

fairy tale reach back beyond the Christian period; that Frau Holle is

Hulda, or Frigg, the heathen goddess; that 'Wishing-cap,' 'Little

Lame-leg,' and 'Table Cover Thyself,' etc., are made up out of the

attributes of German gods. Finally, such things as 'The Sleeping

Beauty,' which is the earth in winter sleep, that the prince of summer

wakes with kisses in springtime, point back to the period of primitive

Indo-German myth.

"But in addition to the requirement of classical nobility, has the fairy

story also the moral tone which we required of the genuine child's

story? Does the fairy story make for morals? To be sure it introduces to

an ideal realm of simple moral relations. The good and bad are sharply

separated. The wrong holds for a time its supremacy, but the final

victory is with the good. And with what vigor the judgment of good and

evil, of right and wrong, is produced. We meet touching pictures,

especially of good-will, of faithfulness, characteristic and full of

life. Think only of the typical interchange of words between Lenchen and

Fundevogel. Said Lenchen, 'Leave me not and I will never leave thee.'

Said Fundevogel, 'Now and nevermore.' We are reminded of the Bible words

of the faithful Ruth, 'Whither thou goest I will go; where thou lodgest

I will lodge; where thou diest I will die and there will I be buried.'

"Important for the life of children is the rigor with which the fairy

tale punishes disobedience and falsehood. Think of the suggestive

legendary story of the child which was visited again and again with

misfortune because of its obstinacy, till its final confession of guilt

brings full pardon. It is everywhere a Christian thread which runs

through so many fairy stories. It is love for the rejected, oppressed,

and abandoned. Whatever is loaded with burdens and troubles receives the

palm, and the first becomes the last.

"The fairy story fulfils the first three requirements for a true child's

story. It is childlike, of lasting value, and fosters moral ideas. As to

unity it will suffice for children of six years (for this is, in our

opinion, the age at which it exerts its moral force) that the stories be

told in the same spirit, although they do not form one connected

narrative. If a good selection of fairy tales according to their inner

connection is made, so that frequent references and connections can be

found, the requirement of unity will be satisfied.

"The fairy tale seems to satisfy least of all the demand that the true

child's story must be instructive, and serve as a starting-point for

interesting practical discussion. The fairy story seems too airy and

dreamy for this, and it might appear pedantry to load it with

instruction. But one will not be guilty of this mistake if one simply

follows up the ideas which the story suggests. When the story of a

chicken, a fox, or a swan is told it is fully in harmony with the

childish thought to inquire into the habits of these animals. When the

king is mentioned it is natural to say that we have a king, to ask where

he lives, etc. Just because the fairy tale sinks deep and holds a firm

and undivided attention, it is possible to direct the suggested thoughts

hither or thither without losing the pleasure they create. If one keeps

this aim in mind, instructive material is abundant. The fairy tale

introduces various employments and callings, from the king to the

farmer, tailor, and shoemaker. Many passages in life, such as betrothal,

marriage, and burial, are presented. Labors in the house, yard, and

field, and numerous animals, plants, and inanimate things are touched

upon. For the observation of animals and for the relation between them

and children, it is fortunate that the fairy tale presents them as

talking and feeling. Thereby the interest in real animals is increased

and heartlessness banished. How could a child put to the torture an

animal which is an old friend in fairy story?

"I need only suggest in this place how the fairy story furnishes

material for exercises in oral language, for the division of words into

syllables and letters, and how the beginnings of writing, drawing,

number, and manual exercises may be drawn from the same source.

"From the suggestions just made the following conclusions at least may

be reasonably drawn. A sufficient counterpoise to the fantastical nature

of the fairy tale can be given in a manner simple and childlike, if the

objects and relations involved in the narratives are brought clearly

before the senses and discussed so that instruction about common objects

and home surroundings is begun."

In speaking of Shakespeare's early training in literature, Charles

Kingsley says:--

"I said there was a literary art before Shakespeare--an art more simple,

more childlike, more girlish, as it were, and therefore all the more

adapted for young minds, but also an art most vigorous and pure in point

of style: thoroughly fitted to give its readers the first elements of

taste, which must lie at the root of even the most complex aesthetics.

"The old fairy superstition, the old legends and ballads, the old

chronicles of feudal war and chivalry, the earlier moralities and

mysteries and tragicomic attempts--these were the roots of his poetic

tree--they must be the roots of any literary education which can teach

us to appreciate him. These fed Shakespeare's youth; why should they not

feed our children's? Why indeed? That inborn delight of the young in all

that is marvellous and fantastic--has that a merely evil root? No

surely! It is a most pure part of their spiritual nature; a part of 'the

heaven which lies about us in our infancy'; angel-wings with which the

free child leaps the prison-walls of sense and custom, and the drudgery

of earthly life."

Felix Adler says:[2] "But how shall we handle these _Maerchen_ and what

method shall we employ in putting them to account for our special

purpose? I have a few thoughts on this subject, which I shall venture to

submit in the form of counsels.

[2] _Moral Instruction of Children._ D. Appleton & Co.

"My _first counsel_ is: Tell the story; do not give it to the child to

read. There is an obvious practical reason for this. Children are able

to benefit by hearing fairy tales before they can read. But that is not

the only reason. It is the childhood of the race, as we have seen, that

speaks in the fairy story of the child of to-day. It is the voice of an

ancient far-off past that echoes from the lips of the storyteller. The

words 'once upon a time' open up a vague retrospect into the past, and

the child gets its first indistinct notions of history in this way. The

stories embody the tradition of the childhood of mankind. They have on

this account an authority all their own, not, indeed, that of literal

truth, but one derived from their being types of certain feelings and

longings which belong to childhood as such. The child, as it listens to

the _Maerchen_, looks up with wide-opened eyes to the face of the person

who tells the story, and thrills responsive as the touch of the earlier

life of the race thus falls upon its own. Such an effect, of course,

cannot be produced by cold type. Tradition is a living thing and should

use the living voice for its vehicle.

"My _second counsel_ is also of a practical nature, and I make bold to

say quite essential to the successful use of the stories. Do not take

the moral plum out of the fairy-tale pudding, but let the child enjoy it

as a whole. Do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral

point. You will squeeze all the juice out of it if you try. Do not

subordinate the purely fanciful and naturalistic elements of the story,

such as the love of mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of

fellowship with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on

the moral element. On the contrary, you will gain the best moral effect

by proceeding in exactly the opposite way. Treat the moral element as an

incident, emphasize it indeed, but incidentally. Pluck it as a wayside

flower. How often does it happen that, having set out on a journey with

a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the way which we had not

foreseen, but which in the end leaves the deepest impression on the

mind....

"The value of the fairy tales is that they stimulate the imagination;

that they reflect the unbroken communion of human life with the life

universal, as in beasts, fishes, trees, flowers, and stars; and that

incidentally, but all the more powerfully on that account, they quicken

the moral sentiments.

"Let us avail ourselves freely of the treasures which are thus placed at

our disposal. Let us welcome _das Maerchen_ into our primary course of

moral training, that with its gentle bands, woven of 'morning mist and

morning glory,' it may help to lead our children into bright realms of

the ideal."

A selection of fairy stories suited to our first grade will differ from

a similar selection for foreign schools. There has been a disposition

among American teachers for several years to appropriate the best of

these stories for use in the primary schools. In different parts of the

country skilful primary teachers have been experimenting successfully

with these materials. There are many schools in which both teachers and

pupils have taken great delight in them. The effort has been made more

particularly with first grade children, the aim of teachers being to

lead captive the spontaneous interest of children from their first

entrance upon school tasks. Some of the stories used at the first may

seem light and farcical, but experiments with children are a better

test than the preconceived notions of adults who may have forgotten

their early childhood. The story of the "Four Musicians," for example,

is a favorite with the children.

At the risk of repetition, and to emphasize some points of special

importance, we will review briefly the method of oral treatment and the

use of the stories in early primary reading.

The children have no knowledge of reading or perhaps of letters. The

story is told with spirit by the teacher, no book being used in the

class. Question and interchange of thought between pupil and teacher

will become more frequent and suggestive as the teacher becomes more

skilled and sympathetic in her treatment of the story. In the early

months of school life the aim is to gain the attention and cooeperation

of children by furnishing abundant food for thought. Children are

required or at least encouraged to narrate the story or a part of it in

the class. They tell it at school and probably at home, till they become

more and more absorbed in it. Even the backward or timid child gradually

acquires courage and enjoys narrating the adventures of the peas in the

pod or those of the animals in the "Four Musicians."

The teacher should acquire a vivid and picturesque style of narrating,

persistently weaving into the story, by query and suggestion, the

previous home experiences of the children. They are only too ready to

bring out these treasures at the call of the teacher. Often it is

necessary to check their enthusiasm. There is a need not simply for

narrative power, but for quick insight and judgment, so as to bring

their thoughts into close relation to the incidents. Nowhere in all the

schools is there such a call for close and motherly sympathy. The gentle

compulsion of kindness is required to inspire the timid ones with

confidence. For some of them are slow to open their delicate thought and

sensibility, even to the sunny atmosphere of a pleasant school.

A certain amount of drill in reproduction is necessary, but fortunately

the stories have something that bears repetition with a growing

interest. Added to this is the desire for perfect mastery, and thus the

stories become more dear with familiarity.

Incidentally, there should be emphasis of the instructive information

gathered concerning animals and plants that are actors in the scenes.

The commonest things of the house, field, and garden acquire a new and

lasting interest. Sometimes the teacher makes provision in advance of

the story for a deeper interest in the plants and animals that are to

appear. In natural science lessons she may take occasion to examine the

pea blossom, or the animals of the barnyard, or the squirrel or birds in

their cages. When, a few days later, the story touches one of these

animals, there is a quick response from the children. This relation

between history and natural science strengthens both.

Many an opportunity should be given for the pupils to express a warm

sympathy for gentle acts of kindness or unselfishness. The happiness

that even a simple flower may bring to a home is a contagious example.

Kindly treatment of the old and feeble, and sympathy for the innocent

and helpless, spring into the child's own thought. The fancy, sympathy,

and interest awakened by a good fairy tale make it a vehicle by which,

consciously and unconsciously, many advantages are borne home to pupils.

Among other things, it opens the door to the reading lesson; that is, to

the beginning efforts in mastering and using the symbols of written

language. The same story which all have learned to tell, they are now

about to learn to read from the board. One or two sentences are taken

directly from the lips of the pupils as they recall the story, and the

work of mastering symbols is begun at once with zest. First is the clear

statement of some vivid thought by a child, then a quick association of

this thought with its written symbols on the board. There is no readier

way of bringing thought and form into firm connection, that is, of

learning to read. Keep the child's fresh mental judgment and the written

form clearly before his mind till the two are wedded. Let the thought

run back and forth between them till they are one.

After fixing two or three sentences on the board, attention is directed

more closely to the single words, and a rapid drill upon those in the

sentence is followed by a discovery and naming of them in miscellaneous

order. Afterward new sentences are formed by the teacher out of the same

words, written on the board, and read by the children. They express

different, and perhaps opposite forms of thought, and should exercise

the child's sense and judgment as well as his memory of words. An

energetic, lively, and successful drill of this kind upon sentences

drawn from stories has been so often witnessed, that its excellence is

no longer a matter of question. These exercises are a form of mental

activity in which children delight if the teacher's manner is vigorous

and pleasant.

When the mastery of new word-forms as wholes is fairly complete, the

analysis may go a step farther. Some new word in the lesson may be taken

and separated into its phonic elements, as the word _hill_, and new

words formed by dropping a letter and prefixing letters or syllables, as

_ill_, _till_, _until_, _mill_, _rill_, etc. The power to construct new

words out of old materials should be cultivated all along the process of

learning to read.

Still other school activities of children stand in close relation to the

fairy tales. They are encouraged to draw the objects and incidents in

which the story abounds. Though rude and uncouth, the drawings still

often surprise us with their truth and suggestiveness. The sketches

reveal the content of a child's mind as almost nothing else--his

misconceptions, his vague or clearly defined notions. They also furnish

his mental and physical activities an employment exactly suited to his

needs and wishes.

The power to use good English and to express himself clearly and

fittingly is cultivated from the very first. While this merit is purely

incidental, it is none the less valuable. The persistence with which bad

and uncouth words and phrases are employed by children in our common

school, both in oral work and in composition, admonishes us to begin

early to eradicate these faults. It seems often as if intermediate and

grammar grades were more faulty and wretched in their use of English

than primary grades. But there can be no doubt that early and persistent

practice in the best forms of expression, especially in connection with

interesting and appropriate thought matter, will greatly aid

correctness, fluency, and confidence in speech. There is also a

convincing pedagogical reason why children in the first primary should

be held to the best models of spoken language. They enter the school

better furnished with oral speech than with a knowledge of any school

study. Their home experiences have wrought into close association and

unity, word and thing. So intimate and living is the relation between

word and thought or object, that a child really does not distinguish

between them. This is the treasure with which he enters school, and it

should not be wrapped up in a napkin. It should be unrolled at once and

put to service. Oral speech is the capital with which a child enters the

business of education; let him employ it.

A retrospect upon the various forms of school activity which spring, in

practical work, from the use of a good fairy story, reveals how

many-sided and inspiriting are its influences. Starting out with a rich

content of thought peculiarly germane to childish interests, it calls

for a full employment of the language resources already possessed by the

children. In the effort to picture out, with pencil or chalk, his

conceptions of the story, a child exercises his fanciful and creative

wit, as well as the muscles of arms and eyes. A good story always finds

its setting in the midst of nature or society, and touches up with a

simple, homely, but poetic charm the commonest verities of human

experience. The appeal to the sensibility and moral judgment of pupils

is direct and spontaneous, because of the interests and sympathies that

are inherent in persons, and touch directly the childish fancy. And,

lastly, the irrepressible traditional demand that children shall learn

to read, is fairly and honestly met and satisfied.

It is not claimed that fairy tales involve the sum total of primary

instruction, but they are an illustration of how rich will be the

fruitage of our educational effort if we consider first the highest

needs and interests of children, and allow the formal arts to drop into

their proper subordination. "The best is good enough for children," and

when we select the best, the wide-reaching connections which are

established between studies carry us a long step toward the now

much-bruited correlation and concentration of studies.

BOOKS OF MATERIALS FOR TEACHERS

Classic Stories for the Little Ones. Public School Publishing Co.,

Bloomington, Ill.

Grimm's Fairy Tales (Wiltse). Ginn & Co.

German Fairy Tales (Grimm). Maynard, Merrill, & Co.

Grimm's German Household Tales. Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

Stories from Hans Andersen. Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

Andersen's Fairy Tales, two volumes. Part I and Part II. Ginn & Co.

Fairy Stories and Fables. American Book Co.

Fables and Folk Stories (Scudder). Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

Rhymes and Jingles (Dodge). Scribner's Sons.

Fairy Stories for Children (Baldwin). American Book Co.

Songs and Stories. University Publishing Co.

Fairy Life. University Publishing Co.

Six Nursery Classics (O'Shea). D. C. Heath & Co.

Grimm's Fairy Tales. Educational Publishing Co.

A Book of Nursery Rhymes (Welch). D. C. Heath & Co.

Verse and Prose for Beginners in Reading. Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

Heart of Oak, No. I. D. C. Heath & Co.

Heart of Oak, No. II. D. C. Heath & Co.

The Eugene Field Book. Scribner's Sons.

Moral Education of Children (Adler). D. Appleton & Co. Chapter VI.

on Fairy Tales.

Literature in Schools (Scudder). Houghton, Mifflin, & Co. Chapter

on Nursery Classics.

THE FABLES

No group of stories has a more assured place in the literature for

children than the AEsop's "Fables." Some of the commonest have been

expanded into little stories which are presented orally to children in

the first school year, as "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Ants and the

Grasshoppers," "The Dog and his Shadow," and others. They are so simple

and direct that they are used alongside the fairy tales for the earliest

instruction of children.

As soon as children have acquired the rudiments of reading the AEsop's

"Fables" are commonly used in the second and third school year as a

reading book, and all the early reading books are partly made up from

this material.

If we inquire into the qualities of these stories which have given them

such a universal acceptance, we shall find that they contain in a

simple, transparent form a good share of the world's wisdom. More recent

researches indicate that they originated in India, and reached Europe

through Persia and Arabia, being ascribed to AEsop. This indicates that

like most early literature of lasting worth, they are products of the

folk-mind rather than of a single writer, and it is the opinion of Adler

that they express the ripened wisdom of the people under the forms of

Oriental despotism. The sad and hopeless submission to a stronger power

expressed by some of the fables, it is claimed, unfits them for use in

our freer life to-day.

There are certain points in which their attractiveness to children is

clearly manifest. The actors in the stories are usually animals, and the

ready interest and sympathy of children for talking animals are at once

appealed to. In all the early myths and fairy tales, human life seems to

merge into that of the animals, as in "Hiawatha," and the fables

likewise are a marked expression of this childlike tendency.

Adler says: "The question may be asked why fables are so popular with

boys. I should say because schoolboy society reproduces in miniature, to

a certain extent, the social conditions which are reflected in the

fables. Among unregenerate schoolboys there often exists a kind of

despotism, not the less degrading because petty. The strong are pitted

against the weak--witness the fagging system in English schools--and

their mutual antagonism produces in both the characteristic vices which

we have noted above." A literature which clearly pictures these

relations so that they can be seen objectively by the children may be of

the greatest social service in education.

Adler says further: "The psychological study of schoolboy society has

been only begun, but even what lies on the surface will, I think, bear

out this remark. Now it has become one of the commonplaces of

educational literature that the individual of to-day must pass through

the same stages of evolution as the human race as a whole. But it should

not be forgotten that the advance of civilization depends on two

conditions: first, that the course of evolution be accelerated, that the

time allowed to the successive stages be shortened; and, secondly, that

the unworthy and degrading elements which entered into the process of

evolution in the past, and at the time were inseparable from it, be now

eliminated. Thus the fairy tales which correspond to the myth-making

epoch in human history must be purged of the dross of superstition which

still adheres to them, and the fables which correspond to the age of

primitive despotisms must be cleansed of the immoral elements they still

embody."[3]

[3] Adler, _Moral Instruction of Children_, pp. 88-89.

The peculiar form of moral teaching in the "Fables" suits them

especially to children. A single trait of conduct, like greediness or

selfishness, is sharply outlined in the story and its results made

plain. "We have seen nothing finer in teaching than the building up of

these little stories in conversational lessons--first to illustrate some

mental or moral trait; then to detach the idea from its story picture,

and find illustrations for it in some other act or incident. And nothing

can be more gratifying as a result, than, through the transparency of

childish hearts, to watch the growth of right conduct from the impulses

derived from the teaching; and so laying the foundations of future

rightness of character."[4]

[4] Introduction to Stickney's _AEsop's Fables_. Ginn & Co.

The moral ideas inculcated by the fables are usually of a practical,

worldly-wisdom sort, not high ideals of moral quality, not virtue for

its own sake, but varied examples of the results of rashness and folly.

This is, perhaps, one reason why they are so well suited to the immature

moral judgments of children.

Adler says: "Often when a child has committed some fault, it is useful

to refer by name to the fable that fits it. As, when a boy has made room

in his seat for another, and the other crowds him out, the mere mention

of the fable of the porcupine is a telling rebuke; or the fable of the

hawk and the pigeons may be called to mind when a boy has been guilty of

mean excuses. On the same principle that angry children are sometimes

taken before a mirror to show them how ugly they look, the fable is a

kind of mirror for the vices of the young." Again: "The peculiar value

of the fables is that they are instantaneous photographs which

reproduce, as it were, in a single flash of light, some one aspect of

human nature, and which, excluding everything else, permit the attention

to be entirely fixed on that one."

But the value of the fable reaches far beyond childhood. The frequency

with which it is cited in nearly all the forms of literature, and its

aptness to express the real meaning of many episodes in real life, in

politics and social events, in peace and war, show the universality of

the truth it embodies. A story which engraves a truth, as it were with a

diamond point, upon a child's mind, a truth which will swiftly interpret

many events in his later life, deserves to take a high place among

educative influences.

FABLES AND NATURE MYTHS

Scudder's Fables and Folk Stories. Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

AEsop's Fables (Stickney). Ginn & Co.

Book of Legends (Scudder). Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

Stories for Children (Lane). The American Book Co.

A Child's Garden of Verses (Stevenson). Scribner's Sons.

AEsop's Fables. Educational Publishing Co.

The Book of Nature Myths (Holbrook). Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.

The Moral Instruction of Children (Adler), Chapters VII and VIII.

D. Appleton & Co.

CHAPTER IV

SECOND GRADE STORIES

"ROBINSON CRUSOE"

In selecting suitable literature for children of the second grade, we

follow in the steps of a number of distinguished writers and teachers

and choose an English classic--"Robinson Crusoe." Rousseau gave this

book his unqualified approval, and said that it would be the first, and,

for a time, the only book that Emile should read. The Herbartians have

been using it a number of years, while many American teachers have

employed it for oral work in second grade, in a short school edition. In

one sense, the book needs no introduction, as it has found its way into

every nook and corner of the world. Originally a story for adults, it

has reached all, and illustrated Christmas editions, designed even for

children from three years and upward, are abundant. To the youth of all

lands, it has been, to say the least, a source of delight, but it has

been regarded as a book for the family and home. What would happen

should the schoolmaster lay his hand on this treasure and desecrate it

to school purposes! We desire to test this classic work on the side of

its pedagogical value and its adaptation to the uses of regular

instruction. If it is really unrivalled as a piece of children's

literature, perhaps it has also no equal for school purposes.

In making the transition from the fairy tale to "Robinson Crusoe," an

interesting difference or contrast may be noticed. Wilmann says:[5]

"'Crusoe' is at once simple, and plain, and fanciful; to be sure, in the

latter case, entirely different from the fairy tale. In the fairy story

the fancy seldom pushes rudely against the boundaries of the real world.

But otherwise in 'Crusoe.' Here it is the practical fancy that is

aroused, if this expression appear not contradictory. What is Crusoe to

do now? How can he help himself? What means can he invent? Many of the

proposals of the children will have to be rejected. The inexorable 'not

possible' shoves a bolt before the door. The imagination is compelled to

limit itself to the task of combining and adjusting real things. The

compulsion of things conditions the progress of the story. 'Thoughts

dwell together easily, but things jostle each other roughly in space.'"

[5] Wilmann, _Paedagogische Vortraege_.

There are other striking differences between "Crusoe" and the folk-lore

stories, but in this contrast we are now chiefly concerned. After

reaching the island, he is checked and limited at every step by the

physical laws imposed by nature. Struggle and fret as he may against

these limits, he becomes at last a philosopher, and quietly takes up the

struggle for existence under those inexorable conditions. The child of

seven or eight is vaguely acquainted with many of the simple employments

of the household and of the neighborhood. Crusoe also had a vague memory

of how people in society in different trades and occupations supply the

necessaries and comforts of life. Even the fairy stories give many hints

of this kind of knowledge, but Robinson Crusoe is face to face with the

sour facts. He is cut off from help and left to his own resources. The

interest in the story is in seeing how he will shift for himself and

exercise his wits to insure plenty and comfort. With few tools and on a

barbarous coast, he undertakes what men in society, by mutual exchange

and by division of labor, have much difficulty in performing. Crusoe

becomes a carpenter, a baker and cook, a hunter, a potter, a fisher, a

farmer, a tailor, a boatman, a stock-raiser, a basket-maker, a

shoemaker, a tanner, a fruit-grower, a mason, a physician. And not only

so, but he grapples with the difficulties of each trade or occupation in

a bungling manner because of inexperience and lack of skill and exact

knowledge. He is an experimenter and tester along many lines. The entire

absence of helpers centres the whole interest of this varied struggle in

one person. It is to be remembered that Crusoe is no genius, but the

ordinary boy or man. He has abundant variety of needs such as a child

reared under civilized conditions has learned to feel. The whole range

of activities, usually distributed to various classes and persons in

society, rests now upon his single shoulders. If he were an expert in

all directions, the task would be easier, but he has only vague

knowledge and scarcely any skill. The child, therefore, who reads this

story, by reason of the slow, toilsome, and bungling processes of Crusoe

in meeting his needs, becomes aware how difficult and laborious are the

efforts by which the simple, common needs of all children are supplied.