CHAPTER II

PRINCIPLES OF SELECTION FOR FAIRY TALES

All our troubles come from doing that in which we have no

interest.--EPICTETUS.

That is useful for every man which is conformable to his own

constitution and nature.--MARCUS AURELIUS.

Genuine interest means that a person has identified himself

with, or found himself in, a certain course of activity. It

is obtained not by thinking about it and consciously aiming

at it, but by considering and aiming at the conditions that

lie back of it, and compel it.--JOHN DEWEY.

I. THE INTERESTS OF CHILDREN

Now that the value of fairy tales in education has been made clear,

let us consider some of those principles of selection which should

guide the teacher, the mother, the father, and the librarian, in

choosing the tale for the little child.

Fairy tales must contain what interests children. It is a well-known

principle that selective interest precedes voluntary attention;

therefore interest is fundamental. All that is accomplished of

permanent good is a by-product of the enjoyment of the tale. The tale

will go home only as it brings joy, and it will bring joy when it

secures the child's interest. Now interest is the condition which

requires least mental effort. And fairy tales for little children must

follow that great law of composition pointed out by Herbert Spencer,

which makes all language consider the audience and the economy of the

hearer's attention. The first step, then, is to study the interests of

the child. We do not wish to give him just what he likes, but we want

to give him a chance to choose from among those things which he ought

to have and, as good and wise guardians, see that we offer what is in

harmony with his interests. Any observation of the child's interest

will show that he loves the things he finds in his fairy tales. He

enjoys--

_A sense of life_. This is the biggest thing in the fairy

tales, and the basis for their universal appeal. The little

child who is just entering life can no more escape its

attraction than can the aged veteran about to leave the

pathway. The little pig, Whitie, who with his briskly

curling tail goes eagerly down the road to secure, from the

man who carried a load of straw, a bit with which to build

his easily destructible house; Red Riding Hood taking a pot

of jam to her sick grandmother; Henny Penny starting out on

a walk, to meet with the surprise of a nut falling on her

head--the biggest charm of all this is that it is life.

_The familiar_. The child, limited in experience, loves to

come in touch with the things he knows about. It soothes his

tenderness, allays his fears, makes him feel at home in the

world,--and he hates to feel strange,--it calms his

timidity, and satisfies his heart. The home and the people

who live in it; the food, the clothing, and shelter of

everyday life; the garden, the plant in it, or the live ant

or toad; the friendly dog and cat, the road or street near

by, the brook, the hill, the sky--these are a part of his

world, and he feels them his own even in a story. The

presents which the Rabbit went to town to buy for the little

Rabbits, in _How Brother Rabbit Frightens his Neighbors_;

the distinct names, Miss Janey and Billy Malone, given to

the animals of _In Some Lady's Garden_, just as a child

would name her dolls; and the new shoes of the Dog which the

Rabbit managed to get in _Why Mr. Dog Runs after Brother

Rabbit_--these all bring up in the child's experience

delightful familiar associations. The tale which takes a

familiar experience, gives it more meaning, and organizes

it, such as _The Little Red Hen_, broadens, deepens, and

enriches the child's present life.

_The surprise_. While he loves the familiar, nothing more

quickly brings a smile than the surprise. Perhaps the most

essential of the fairy traits is the combination of the

familiar and the unfamiliar. The desire for the unknown,

that curiosity which brings upon itself surprise, is the

charm of childhood as well as the divine fire of the

scientist. The naughty little Elephant who asked "a new,

fine question he had never asked before," and who went to

answer his own question of "what the crocodile has for

dinner," met with many surprises which were spankings; and

as a result, he returned home with a trunk and experience.

He is a very good example of how delightful to the child

this surprise can be. The essence of the fairy tale is

natural life in a spiritual world, the usual child in the

unusual environment, or the unusual child in the natural

environment. This combination of the usual and unusual is

the chief charm of _Alice in Wonderland_, where a natural

child wanders through a changing environment that is

unusual. For an idle moment enjoy the task of seeing how

many ideas it contains which are the familiar ideas of

children, and how they all have been "made different." All

children love a tea-party, but what child would not be

caught by having a tea-party with a Mad Hatter, a March

Hare, and a sleepy Dormouse, with nothing to eat and no tea!

Red Riding Hood was a dear little girl who set out to take a

basket to her grandmother. But in the wood, after she had

been gathering a nosegay and chasing butterflies, "just as I

might do," any child might say, she met a wolf! And what

child's ears would not rise with curiosity? "Now something's

going to happen!" The Three Bears kept house. That was usual

enough; but everything was different, and the charm is in

giving the child a real surprise at every step. The house

was not like an ordinary house; it was in the wood, and more

like a play-house than a real one. There was a room, but not

much in it; a table, but there was not on it what is on your

table--only three bowls. What they contained was usual, but

unusually one bowl of porridge was big and hot, one was less

big and cold, and one was little and just right. There were

usual chairs, unusual in size and very unusual when

Goldilocks sat in them. Upstairs the bedroom was usual, but

the beds were unusual when Goldilocks lay upon them. The

Bears themselves were usual, but their talk and action was a

delightful mixture of the surprising and the comical.

Perhaps this love of surprise accounts for the perfect leap

of interest with which a child will follow the Cock in _The

Bremen Town Musicians_, as he saw from the top of the tree

on which he perched, a light, afar off through the wood.

Certainly the theme of a light in the distance has a charm

for children as it must have had for man long ago.

_Sense impression_. Good things to eat, beautiful flowers,

jewels, the beauties of sight, color, and sound, of odor and

of taste, all gratify a child's craving for sense

impression. This, in its height, is the charm of the

_Arabian Nights_. But in a lesser degree it appears in all

fairy tales. Cinderella's beautiful gowns at the ball and

the fine supper stimulate the sense of color, beauty, and

taste. The sugar-panes and gingerbread roof of the Witch's

House, in _Hansel and Grethel_, stir the child's kindred

taste for sweets and cookies. The Gingerbread Boy, with his

chocolate jacket, his cinnamon buttons, currant eyes,

rose-sugar mouth, orange-candy cap, and gingerbread shoes,

makes the same strong sense appeal. There is a natural

attraction for the child in the beautiful interior of

Sleeping Beauty's Castle, in the lovely perfume of roses in

the Beast's Rose-Garden, in the dance and song of the Elves,

and in the dance of the Goat and her seven Kids about the

well.

_The beautiful_. Closely related to this love of the

material is the sense of the beautiful. "Beauty is pleasure

regarded as the quality of a thing," says Santayana.

Pleasures of the eye and ear, of the imagination and memory,

are those most easily objectified, and form the groundwork

on which all higher beauty rests. The green of the spring,

the odor of Red Riding Hood's flowers, the splendor of the

Prince's ball in _Cinderella_--these when perceived

distinctly are intelligible, and when perceived delightfully

are beautiful. Language is a kind of music, too; the mode of

speaking, the sound of letters, the inflection of the

voice--all are elements of beauty. But this material beauty

is tied up in close association with things "eye hath not

seen nor ear heard," the moral beauty of the good and the

message of the true. The industry of the little Elves

reflects the worth of honest effort of the two aged

peasants, and the dance of the Goat and seven Kids reflects

the triumph of mother wit and the sharpness of love. The

good, the true, and the beautiful are inseparably linked in

the tale, just as they forever grow together in the life of

the child. The tales differ largely in the element of beauty

they present. Among those conspicuous for beauty may be

mentioned Andersen's _Thumbelina_; the Indian _How the Sun,

the Moon, and West Wind Went Out to Dinner_; the Japanese

_Mezumi, the Beautiful_; and the English _Robin's Christmas

Song. Little Two-Eyes_ stands out as one containing a large

element of beauty, and _Oeyvind and Marit_ represents in an

ideal way the possible union of the good, the true, and the

beautiful. This union of the good, the true, and the

beautiful has been expressed by an old Persian legend: "In

the midst of the light is the beautiful, in the midst of the

beautiful is the good, in the midst of the good is God, the

Eternal One."

_Wonder, mystery, magic_. The spirit of wonder, like a

will-o'-the-wisp, leads on through a fairy tale, enticing

the child who follows, knowing that something will happen,

and wondering what. When magic comes in he is gratified

because some one becomes master of the universe--Cinderella,

when she plants the hazel bough, and later goes to the

wishing-tree; the fairy godmother, when with her wand she

transforms a pumpkin to a gilded coach and six mice to

beautiful gray horses; Little Two-Eyes, when she says,--

Little kid, bleat,

I wish to eat!

and immediately her little table set with food so

marvelously appears; or Hop-o'-my-Thumb when he steps into

his Seven-League Boots and goes like the wind.

_Adventure_. This is a form of curiosity. In the old tale,

as the wood was the place outside the usual habitation,

naturally it was the place where things happened. Often

there was a house in the wood, like the one "amidst the

forest darkly green," where Snow White lived with the

Dwarfs. This adventure the little child loves for its own

sake. Later, when he is about eleven or twelve, he loves it

for its motive. This love of adventure is part of the charm

of _Red Riding Hood_, of the _Three Bears_, of the _Three

Pigs_, or of any good tale you might mention.

_Success_. The child likes the fairy tale to tell him of

some one who succeeds. He admires the little pig Speckle who

outwitted the Wolf in getting to the field of turnips first,

or in going to the apple tree at Merry-Garden, or to the

fair at Shanklin; who built his house of brick which would

defy assault; and whose cleverness ended the Wolf's life.

This observation of success teaches the child to admire

masterliness, to get the motto, _Age quod agis_, stamped

into his child life from the beginning. It influences

character to follow such conduct as that of the Little Red

Hen, who took a grain of wheat,--her little mite,--who

planted it, reaped it, made it into bread, and then ate it;

who, in spite of the Goose and the Duck, secured to herself

the reward of her labors.

_Action_. Akin to his love of running, skipping, and

jumping, to his enjoyment in making things go and in seeing

others make things go, is the child's desire for action in

his fairy tales; and this is just another way of saying he

wants his fairy tales to parallel life. Action is the

special charm of the Gingerbread Boy, who opened the oven

door and so marvelously ran along, outrunning an old Man, an

old Woman, a little Boy, two Well-Diggers, two

Ditch-Diggers, a Bear, and a Wolf, until he met the Fox

waiting by the corner of the fence. _Dame Wiggins of Lee and

Her Seven Wonderful Cats_--a humorous tale written by Mrs.

Sharp, a lady of ninety, edited by John Ruskin, who added

the third, fourth, eighth, and ninth stanzas, and

illustrated by Kate Greenaway--has this pleasing trait of

action to a unique degree. So also has _The Cock, the Mouse,

and the Little Red Hen_, a modern tale by Félicité Lefèvre.

This very popular tale among children is a retelling of two

old tales combined, _The Little Red Hen_ and the Irish

_Little Rid Hin_.

_Humor_. The child loves a joke, and the tale that is

humorous is his special delight. Humor is the source of

pleasure in _Billy Bobtail_, where the number of animals and

the noises they make fill the tale with hilarious fun. There

is most pleasing humor in _Lambikin_. Here the reckless hero

frolicked about on his little tottery legs. On his way to

Granny's house, as he met the Jackal, the Vulture, the

Tiger, and the Wolf, giving a little frisk, he said,--

To Granny's house I go,

Where I shall fatter grow,

Then you can eat me so!

Later, on returning, when the animals asked, "Have you seen

Lambikin?" cozily settled within his Drumikin, laughing and

singing to himself, he called out slyly--

Lost in the forest, and so are you,

On, little Drumikin! Tum-pa, turn-too!

Humor is the charm, too, of Andersen's _Snow Man_. Here the

child can identify himself with the Dog and thereby join in

the sport which the Dog makes at the Snow Man's expense,

just as if he himself were enlightening the Snow Man about

the Sun, the Moon, and the Stove. There is most delightful

humor in _The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership_, where the

Cat has the face to play upon the credulity of the poor

housekeeper Mouse, who always "stayed at home and did not go

out into the daytime." Returning home from his ventures

abroad he named the first kitten Top-Off, the second one

Half-Out, and the third one All-Out; while instead of having

attended the christening of each, as he pretended, he

secretly had been visiting the jar of fat he had placed for

safe-keeping in the church.

_Poetic justice_. Emotional satisfaction and moral

satisfaction based on emotional instinct appeal to the

child. He pities the plight of the animals in the _Bremen

Town Musicians_, and he wants them to find a refuge, a safe

home. He is glad that the robbers are chased out, his sense

of right and wrong is satisfied. Poetic justice suits him.

This is one reason why fairy tales make a more definite

impression often than life--because in the tale the

retribution follows the act so swiftly that the child may

see it, while in life "the mills of the gods grind slowly,"

and even the adult who looks cannot see them grind. The

child wants Cinderella to gain the reward for her goodness;

and he wishes the worthy Shoemaker and his Wife, in the

_Elves and the Shoemaker_, to get the riches their industry

deserves.

_The imaginative_. Fairy tales satisfy the activity of the

child's imagination and stimulate his fancy. Some beautiful

spring day, perhaps, after he has enjoyed an excursion to a

field or meadow or wood, he will want to follow Andersen's

Thumbelina in her travels. He will follow her as she floats

on a lily pad, escapes a frog of a husband, rides on a

butterfly, lives in the house of a field-mouse, escapes a

mole of a husband, and then rides on the back of a friendly

swallow to reach the south land and to become queen of the

flowers. Here there is much play of fancy. But even when the

episodes are homely and the situations familiar, as in

_Little Red Hen_, the act of seeing them as distinct images

and of following them with interest feeds the imagination.

For while the elements are familiar, the combination is

unusual; and this nourishes the child's ability to remove

from the usual situation, which is the essential element in

all originality. By entering into the life of the characters

and identifying himself with them, he develops a large

sympathy and a sense of power, he gains insight into life,

and a care for the interests of the world. Thus imagination

grows "in flexibility, in scope, and in sympathy, till the

life which the individual lives is informed with the life of

nature and of society," and acquires what Professor John

Dewey calls Culture.

_Animals_. Very few of the child's fairy tales contain no

animals. Southey said of a home: "A house is never perfectly

furnished for enjoyment unless there is in it a child rising

three years old and a kitten rising six weeks; kitten is in

the animal world what a rose-bud is in a garden." In the

same way it might be said of fairy tales: No tale is quite

suited to the little child unless in it there is at least

one animal. Such animal tales are _The Bremen Town

Musicians, Henny Penny, Ludwig and Marleen_ and _The

Elephant's Child_. The episode of the hero or heroine and

the friendly animal, as we find it retained in Two-Eyes and

her little Goat, was probably a folk-lore convention--since

dropped--common to the beginning of many of the old tales.

It indicates how largely the friendly animal entered into

the old stories.

_A portrayal of human relations, especially with children_.

In _Cinderella_ the child is held by the unkind treatment

inflicted upon Cinderella by her Stepmother and the two

haughty Sisters. He notes the solicitude of the Mother of

the Seven Kids in guarding them from the Wolf. In the _Three

Bears_ he observes a picture of family life. A little child,

on listening to _The Three Pigs_ for the first time, was

overwhelmed by one thought and cried out, "And didn't the

Mother come home any more?" Naturally the child would be

interested especially in children, for he is like the older

boy, who, when looking at a picture-book, gleefully

exclaimed, "That's me!" He likes to put himself in the place

of others. He can do it most readily if the character is a

small individual like Red Riding Hood who should obey her

mother; or like Goldilocks who must not wander in the wood;

or like Henny Penny who went to take a walk and was accosted

by, "Where are you going?" In _Brother Rabbit and the Little

Girl_ the Little Girl takes the keenest enjoyment in putting

herself in the customary grown-up's place of granting

permission, while the Rabbit takes the usual child's place

of mentioning a request with much persuasion. The child is

interested, too, in the strange people he meets in the fairy

tales: the clever little elves who lived in the groves and

danced on the grass; the dwarfs who inhabited the

earth-rocks and the hills; the trolls who dwelt in the wild

pine forest or the rocky spurs, who ate men or porridge, and

who fled at the noise of bells; the fairies who pleased with

their red caps, green jackets, and sprightly ways; the

beautiful fairy godmother who waved her wonderful wand; or

those lovely fairy spirits who appeared at the moment when

most needed--just as all best friends do--and who could

grant, in a twinkling, the wish that was most desired.

_The diminutive_. This pleasure in the diminutive is found

in the interest in the fairy characters, Baby Bear, Little

Billy-Goat, Little Pig, the Little Elves, Teeny Tiny,

Thumbelina, and Tom Thumb, as well as in tiny objects. In

the _Tale of Tom Thumb_ the child is captivated by the

miniature chariot drawn by six small mice, the tiny

butterfly-wing shirt and chicken-skin boots worn by Tom, and

the small speech produced by him at court, when asked his

name:--

My name is Tom Thumb,

From the Fairies I come;

When King Arthur shone,

This court was my home.

In me he delighted,

By him I was knighted.

Did you never hear of

Sir Thomas Thumb?

_Doll i' the Grass_ contains a tiny chariot made from a

silver spoon and drawn by two white mice, and _Little

Two-Eyes_ gives a magic table. The child takes keen delight

in the fairy ship which could be folded up and put into a

pocket, and in the wonderful nut-shell that could bring

forth beautiful silver and gold dresses. The little wagon of

Chanticleer and Partlet that took them a trip up to the

hill, and the tiny mugs and beds, table and plates, of Snow

White's cottage in the wood--such as these all meet the

approval of child-nature.

_Rhythm and repetition_. The child at first loves sound;

later he loves sound and sense, or meaning. Repetition

pleases him because he has limited experience and is glad to

come upon something he has known before. He observes and he

wants to compare, but it is a job. Repetition saves him a

task and boldly proclaims, "We are the same." Such is the

effect of the repetitive expressions which we find in _Teeny

Tiny_: as, "Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her

teeny-tiny house, she was a teeny-tiny bit tired"; or, in

_Little Jack Rollaround_, who cried out with such vigorous

persistence, "Roll me around!" and called to the moon, "I

want the people to see me!" In _The Little Rabbit Who Wanted

Red Wings_, one of the pleasantest tales for little

children, the White Rabbit said to his Mammy, "Oh, Mammy, I

wish I had a long gray tail like Bushy Tail's; I wish I had

a back full of bristles like Mr. Porcupine's; I wish I had a

pair of red rubbers like Miss Puddleduck's." At last, when

he beheld the tiny red-bird at the Wishing-Pond, he said,

"Oh, I wish I had a pair of little red wings!" Then, after

getting his wings, when he came home at night and his Mammy

no longer knew him, he repeated to Mr. Bushy Tail, Miss

Puddleduck, and old Mr. Ground Hog, the same petition to

sleep all night, "Please, kind Mr. Bushy Tail, may I sleep

in your house all night?" etc. Repetition here aids the

child in following the characters, the story, and its

meaning. It is a distinct help to unity and to clearness.

_The Elephant's Child_ is an example of how the literary

artist has used this element of repetition, and used it so

wonderfully that the form is the matter and the tale cannot

be told without the artist's words. "'Satiable curtiosity,"

"the banks of the great, grey-green, greasy, Limpopo River,

all set about with fever-trees," and "'Scuse me," are but a

few of those expressions for which the child will watch as

eagerly as one does for a signal light known to be due. The

repetition of the one word, "curtiosity," throughout the

tale, simply makes the point of the whole story and makes

that point delightfully impressive.

Rhythm and repetition also make a bodily appeal, they appeal

to the child's motor sense and instinctively get into his

muscles. This is very evident in _Brother Rabbit's

Riddle_:--

De big bird bob en little bird sing;

De big bee zoon en little bee sting,

De little man lead en big hoss foller--

Kin you tell wat 's good fer a head in a holler?

The song in _Brother Rabbit and the Little Girl_ appeals

also to the child's sense of sound:--

De jay-bird hunt de sparrer-nes;

De bee-martin sail all 'roun';

De squer'l, he holler from de top er de tree,

Mr. Mole, he stay in de ground;

He hide en he stay twel de dark drap down--

Mr. Mole, he hide in de groun'.

_The simple and the sincere_. The child's taste for the

simple and the sincere is one reason for the appeal which

Andersen's tales make. In using his stories it is to be

remembered that, although Andersen lacked manliness in being

sentimental, he preserved the child's point of view and gave

his thought in the true nursery story's mode of expression.

Since real sentiment places the emphasis on the object which

arouses feeling and the sentimental places the emphasis on

the feeling, sincerity demands that in using Andersen's

tales, one lessen the sentimental when it occurs by omitting

to give prominence to the feeling. Andersen's tales reflect

what is elementary in human nature, childlike fancy, and

emotion. His speech is characterized by the simplest words

and conceptions, an avoidance of the abstract, the use of

direct language, and a naïve poetic expression adapted to

general comprehension. He is not to be equaled in child

conversations. The world of the fairy tale must be simple

like the world Andersen has given us. It must be a world of

genuine people and honest occupations in order to form a

suitable background for the supernatural. Only fairy tales

possessing simplicity are suited to the oldest kindergarten

child of five or six years. To the degree that the child is

younger than five years, he should be given fewer and fewer

fairy tales. Those given should be largely realistic stories

of extreme simplicity.

_Unity of effect_. The little child likes the short tale,

for it is a unity he can grasp. If you have ever listened to

a child of five spontaneously attempting to tell you a long

tale he has not grasped, and have observed how the units of

the tale have become confused in the mind that has not held

the central theme, you then realize how harmful it is to

give a child too long a story. Unity demands that there be

no heaping up of sensations, but neat, orderly, essential

incidents, held together by one central idea. The tale must

go to the climax directly. It must close according to Uncle

Remus's idea when he says, "De tale ain't persoon atter em

no furder don de place whar dey [the characters] make der

disappear'nce." It will say what it has to say and lose no

time in saying it; and often it will attempt to say only one

thing. It will be remarkable as well for what it omits as

for what it tells. The Norse _Doll i' the Grass_ well

illustrates this unity. Boots set out to find a wife and

found a charming little lassie who could spin and weave a

shirt in one day, though of course the shirt was tiny. He

took her home and then celebrated his wedding with the

pleasure of the king. This unity, which is violated in

Grimm's complicated _Golden Bird_, appears pleasantly in

_The Little Pine Tree that Wished for New Leaves_. Here one

feeling dominates the tale, the Pine Tree was no longer

contented. So she wished, first for gold leaves, next for

glass leaves, and then for leaves like those of the oaks and

maples. But the robber who stole her gold leaves, the storm

that shattered her glass leaves, and the goat that ate her

broad green leaves, changed her feeling of discontent, until

she wished at last to have back her slender needles, green

and fair, and awoke next morning, happy and contented.

Fairy tales for little children must avoid certain elements opposed to

the interests of the very young child. Temperaments vary and one must

be guided by the characteristics of the individual child. But while

the little girl with unusual power of visualization, who weeps on

hearing of Thumbling's travels down the cow's mouth in company with

the hay, may be the exception, she proves the rule: the little child

generally should not have the tale that creates an emotion of horror

or deep feeling of pain. This standard would determine what tales

should not be given to the child of kindergarten age:--

_The tale of the witch_. The witch is too strange and too

fearful for the child who has not learned to distinguish the

true from the imaginative. This would move _Hansel and

Grethel_ into the second-grade work and _Sleeping Beauty_

preferably into the work of the first grade. The child soon

gains sufficient experience so that later the story

impresses, not the strangeness.

_The tale of the dragon_. This would eliminate _Siegfried

and the Dragon_. A dragon is too fearful a beast and

produces terror in the heart of the child. Tales of heroic

adventure with the sword are not suited to his strength. He

has not yet entered the realm of bold adventure where

Perseus and Theseus and Hercules display their powers. The

fact that hero-tales abound in delightful literature is not

adequate reason for crowding the _Rhinegold Legends, Wagner

Stories_, and _Tales of King Arthur_, into the kindergarten.

Their beauty and charm do not make it less criminal to

present to little children such a variety of images as

knighthood carries with it. These tales are not sufficiently

simple for the little child, and must produce a mental

confusion and the crudest of returns.

_Giant tales_. This would omit _Jack and the Beanstalk, Jack

the Giant-Killer_, and _Tom Hickathrift_, moving them up

into the primary field. A little girl, when eating tongue,

confidingly asked, "Whose tongue?" and when told, "A cow's,"

immediately questioned with tenderness, "Don't he feel it?"

Thereafter she insisted that she didn't like tongue. To a

child of such sensibilities the cutting off of heads is

savage and gruesome and should not be given a chance to

impress so prominently. Life cannot be without its strife

and struggle, but the little child need not meet everything

in life at once. This does not mean that absolutely no giant

tale would be used at this time. The tale of _Mr. Miacca_,

in which "little Tommy couldn't always be good and one day

went round the corner," is a giant tale which could be used

with young children because it is full of delightful humor.

Because of the simplicity of Tommy's language and his sweet

childishness it appeals to the child's desire to identify

himself with the character. Tommy is so clever and inventive

and his lively surprises so brimful of fun that the final

effect is entirely pleasing.

_Some tales of transformation_. The little child is not

pleased but shocked by the transformation of men into

animals. A little girl, on looking at an illustration of

_Little Brother and Sister_, remarked, "If my Sister would

turn into a fawn I would cry." When the animals are

terrifying, the transformation contains horror for the

child. This, together with the length and complexity of the

story, would move _Beauty and the Beast_ up into the second

grade where the same transformation becomes an element of

pleasure. A simple tale of transformation, such as _The

Little Lamb and the Little Fish_, in which Gretchen becomes

a lamb and Peterkin a little fish, is interesting but not

horrible, and could be used. So also could a tale such as

Grimm's _Fundevogel_, in which the brother and sister escape

the pursuit of the witch by becoming, one a rosebush and the

other a rose; later, one a church and the other a steeple;

and a third time, one a pond and the other a duck. In both

these tales we have the witch and transformation, but the

effect contains no horror.

_The tale of strange animal relations and strange creatures.

Tom Tit Tot_, which Jacobs considers the most delightful of

all fairy tales, is brimful of humor for the older child,

but here the tailed man is not suited to the faith and

understanding of six years. _Rumpelstiltskin_, its parallel,

must also be excluded. _The House in the Wood_, and its

Norse parallel, _The Two Step-Sisters_, are both very

beautiful, but are more suited to the second grade. In the

kindergarten it is much better to present the tale which

emphasizes goodness, rather than the two just mentioned,

which present the good and the bad and show what happens to

both. Besides there is a certain elation resulting from the

superior reward won by the good child which crowds out any

pity for the erring child. Such elation is a form of

selfishness and ought not to be emphasized. _Snow White and

Rose Red_ contains the strange dwarf, but it is a tale so

full of love and goodness and home life that in spite of its

length it could be used in the first grade.

_Unhappy tales_. The very little child pities, and its

tender heart must be protected from depressing sadness as

unrelieved as we find it in _The Little Match Girl_. The

image of suffering impressed on a child, who cannot forget

the sight of a cripple for days, is too intense to be

healthful. The sorrow of the poor is one of the elements of

life that even the very little child meets, and it is

legitimate that his literature should include tales that

call for compassion. But in a year or two, when he develops

less impressionability and more poise, he is better prepared

to meet such situations, as he must meet them in life.

_The tale of capture_. This would eliminate _Proserpine_. No

more beautiful myth exists than this one of the springtime,

but its beauty and its symbolism do not make it suitable for

the kindergarten. It is more suited to the elementary child

of the fourth grade. In fact, very few myths of any sort

find a legitimate place in the kindergarten, perhaps only a

few of the simpler _pourquois_ tales. _The Legend of the

Pied Piper of Hamelin_, which is very beautiful, and appeals

to little children because of the piping and of the children

following after, should be omitted from the kindergarten

because the capture at the close--the disappearance of the

children in the hill--is tragic in pathos. It is better to

leave the literature as it is and offer it later when the

child reaches the second grade. The effect of this tragic

end has been realized by Josephine Scribner Gates, who (_St.

Nicholas_, November, 1914) has given to the children, "And

Piped Those Children Back Again." This is a modern

completion of _The Pied Piper_. It most happily makes the

little lame boy who was left in Hamelin when the Piper

closed the door of the mountain, the means of the

restoration of the other children to their parents.

_The very long tale_. This would omit _The Ugly Duckling.

The Ugly Duckling_ is a most artistic tale and one that is

very true to life. Its characters are the animals of the

barn-yard, the hens and ducks familiar to the little child's

experience. But the theme and emotional interest working out

at length through varied scenes, make it much better adapted

to the capacities of a third-grade child. _The White Cat_, a

feminine counterpart of _Puss-in-Boots_--which gives a most

charming picture of how a White Cat, a transformed princess,

helped a youth, and re-transformed became his bride--because

of its length, is better used in the first grade at the same

time with _Puss-in-Boots_. The same holds true of _Peter,

Paul, and Espen_, or its parallel, Laboulaye's _Poucinet_.

This is a fine tale telling how the youngest of three sons

succeeded in winning the king's favor and finally the

princess and half the kingdom. First, Espen had to cut down

the giant oak that shadowed the palace and dig a well in the

courtyard of the castle deep enough to furnish water the

entire year. But after winning in these tests, he is

required to conquer a great Ogre who dwells in the forest,

and later to prove himself cleverer in intellect than the

princess by telling the greater falsehood. It is evident

that not only the subject-matter but the working out of the

long plot are much beyond kindergarten children.

_The complicated or the insincere tale_. This would

eliminate a tale of complicated structure, such as Grimm's

_Golden Bird_; and many of the modern fairy tales, which

will be dealt with later on.

The fairy tales mentioned above are all important tales which the

child should receive at a later time when he is ready for them. They

are mentioned because they all have been suggested for kindergarten

use. The whole field of children's literature is largely unclassified

and ungraded as yet, and such arrangements as we possess show slight

respect for standards. There is abundant material for the youngest,

and much will be gained by omitting to give the very young what they

will enjoy a little later, much better and with freshness. It is true

that a few classics are well-suited to the child at any age, such as

_Alice in Wonderland_, _The Jungle Books_, and _Uncle Remus Tales_. In

regard to this grading of the classics, Lamb in _Mackery End_,

speaking of his sister's education, said, "She was tumbled early, by

accident or design, into a spacious closet of good old English

reading, without much selection or prohibition, and browsed at will

upon that fair and wholesome pasturage. Had I twenty girls they should

be brought up exactly in this fashion." Lamb would have argued: Set

the child free in the library and let him choose for himself, and feed

on great literature, those stories which give general types of

situation and character, which give the simplest pictures of a people

at different epochs. But with all due respect to Lamb it must be said

that Lamb is not living in this scientific day of discovery of the

child's personality and of accurate attention to the child's needs.

Because the _Odyssey_ is a great book and will give much to any child

does not prove at all that the same child would not be better off by

reading it when his interests reach its life. This outlook on the

problem would eliminate the necessity of having the classics rewritten

from a new moral viewpoint, which is becoming a custom now-a-days, and

which is to be frowned upon, for it deprives the literature of much of

its vigor and force.

II. THE FAIRY TALE AS LITERATURE

From the point of view of the child, we have seen that in a subjective

sense, fairy tales must contain the interests of children. In an

objective sense, rather from the point of view of literature, let us

now consider what fairy tales must contain, what are the main

standards which determine the value of fairy tales as literature, and

as such, subject-matter of real worth to the child.

The old tale will not always be perfect literature; often it will be

imperfect, especially in form. Yet the tale should be selected with

the standards of literature guiding in the estimate of its worth and

in the emphasis to be placed upon its content. Such relating of the

tale to literary standards would make it quite impossible later in the

primary grades when teaching the reading of _Three Pigs_, to put the

main stress on a mere external like the expression of the voice. A

study of the story as literature would have centered the attention on

the situation, the characters, and the plot. If the voice is receiving

training in music and in the phonics of spelling, then when the

reading of the tale is undertaken it will be a willing servant to the

mind which is concentrating on the reality, and will express what the

thought compels.

The fairy tale first must be a classic in reality even if it lacks the

crowning touch of perfect form given through the re-treatment of a

literary artist. In _Reynard the Fox_ we have an exact example of the

folk-tale that has been elevated into literature. But this was

possible only because the tales originally possessed the qualities of

a true classic. "A true classic," Sainte-Beuve has said, "is one which

enriches the human mind, has increased its treasure and caused it to

advance a step, which has discovered some moral and unequivocal truth

or revealed some eternal passion in that heart where all seemed known

and discovered; which is an expression of thought, observation, or

invention, in no matter what form, only provided it be broad and

great, refined and sensible, sane and beautiful in itself; which

speaks in its own peculiar style which is found to be also that of the

whole world, a style new and old, easily contemporary with all time."

Immediately some of the great fairy tales stand out as answering to

this test--_Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Jack and the Beanstalk,

Cinderella, Jack the Giant-Killer_,--which has been said to be the

epitome of the whole life of man--_Beauty and the Beast_, and a crowd

of others. Any fairy tale which answers to the test of a real classic

must, like these, show itself to contain for the child a permanent

enrichment of the mind.

Fairy tales must have certain qualities which belong to all literature

as a fine art, whether it is the literature of knowledge or the

literature of power. Literature is not the book nor is it life; but

literature is the sense of life, whose artist is the author, and the

medium he uses is words, language. It is good art when his sense of

life is truth, and fine art when there is beauty in that truth. The

one essential beauty of literature is in its essence and does not

depend upon any decoration. As words are the medium, literature will

distinguish carefully among them and use them as the painter, for

particular lights and shades. According to Pater literature must have

two qualities, mind and soul. Literature will have mind when it has

that architectural sense of structure which foresees the end in the

beginning and keeps all the parts related in a harmonious unity. It

will have soul when it has that "vagrant sympathy" which makes it come

home to us and which makes it suggest what it does not say. Test the

_Tale of Cinderella_ by this standard. As to mind, it makes one think

of a bridge in which the very keystone of the structure is the

condition that Cinderella return from the ball by the stroke of

twelve. And its "vagrant sympathy" is quite definite enough to reach a

maid of five, who remarked: "If I'd have been Cinderella, I wouldn't

have helped those ugly sisters, would you?"

If the fairy tale stands the test of literature it must have proved

itself, not only a genuine classic according to Sainte-Beuve's

standard, and a tale possessing qualities of mind and soul according

to Pater's _Style_, but it must have shown itself also a work owning

certain features distinguishing it as literature. These particular

literary marks which differentiate the literary tale from the ordinary

prose tale have been pointed out by Professor Winchester in his

_Principles of Literary Criticism_. They apply to the old tale of

primitive peoples just as well as to the modern tale of to-day. As

literature the tale must have:

(1) a power to appeal to the emotions;

(2) a power to appeal to the imagination;

(3) a basis of truth; and

(4) a form more or less perfect.

(1) A power to appeal to the emotions. This appeal to the emotions is

its unique distinguishing literary trait. Literature appeals, not to

the personal emotions but to the universal ones. For this reason,

through literature the child may come in time to develop a power of

universal sympathy, which is not the least value literature has to

bestow upon him, for this sympathy will become a benediction to all

those with whom he may have to deal. In order that emotion in the

tales may be literary--make a permanent appeal--according to Professor

Winchester's standards, it must have justness given by a deep and

worthy cause; vividness so that it may enlarge and thrill; a certain

steadiness produced by everything in the tale contributing to the main

emotion; a variety resulting from contrasts of character; and a high

quality obtained through its sympathy with life and its relation to

the conduct of life, so that the feeling for the material beauty of

mere sights and sounds is closely related to the deepest suggestions

of moral beauty. The best literary tales will possess emotion having

all five characteristics. Many tales will exhibit one or more of these

traits conspicuously. No tale that is literature will be found which

does not lay claim to some one of these qualities which appeal to the

broadly human emotions.

Applying the test of emotion to fairy tales, _Cinderella_ possesses a

just emotion, Cinderella's cause is the cause of goodness and kindness

and love, and deserves a just reward. _The Town Musicians of Bremen_

exhibits vivid emotion, for all four characters are in the same

desperate danger of losing life, all four unite to save it, and to

find a home. Andersen's _Steadfast Tin Soldier_ is a good example of

steadiness of emotion, as it maintains throughout its message of

courage. The Tin Soldier remained steadfast, whether on the table just

escaped from the toy-box, or in the street after a frightful fall from

the window, or spinning in a paper boat that bobbed, or sailing under

the crossing, or lying at full length within the fish that swallowed

him, or at last melting in the full glare of the hearth fire. It is a

very good example, too, of vividness of emotion. _The Little Elves_

illustrates steadiness of emotion, it is pervaded by the one feeling,

that industry deserves reward. The French tale, _Drakesbill_, is

especially delightful and humorous because "Bill Drake" perseveres in

his happy, fresh vivacity, at the end of every rebuff of fortune, and

triumphantly continues his one cry of, "Quack, quack, quack! When

shall I get my money back?" _Lambikin_ leaves the one distinct

impression of light gaiety and happy-heartedness; and _The Foolish,

Timid Rabbit_ preserves steadily the one effect of the credulity of

the animals, made all the more prominent by contrast to the wisdom of

the Lion. Variety of emotion appears in tales such as _Cinderella,

Little Two-Eyes, Sleeping Beauty_, and _Three Pigs_, where the various

characters are drawn distinctly and their contrasting traits produce

varied emotional effects. All the great fairy tales appeal to emotion

of a high moral quality and it is this which is the source of their

universal appeal. It is this high moral quality of the spiritual

truth, which is the center of the tale's unity, holding together all

the parts under one emotional theme. This is the source of the

perennial freshness of the old tale; for while the immortal truth it

presents is old, the personality of the child that meets it is new.

For the child, the tale is new because he discovers in it a bit of

himself he had not known before, and it retains for him a lasting

charm so that he longs to hear it again and again. The beauty of

truth, the reward of goodness, and the duty of fairness, give a high

emotional quality to _Little Two-Eyes_; and _Sleeping Beauty_

illustrates the blighting power of hatred to impose a curse and the

saving power of love to overcome the works of hatred.

Considering folk-tales from the standpoint of emotion, if asked to

suggest what author's work would rank in the same class, one is rather

surprised to find, that for high moral quality, variety, and worthy

cause, the author who comes to mind is none other than Shakespeare.

Perhaps, with all due respect to literature's idol, one might even

venture to question which receives honor by the comparison,

Shakespeare or the folk-tales? It might be rather a pleasant task to

discover who is the Cordelia, the Othello, the Rosalind, and the

Portia of the folk-tales; or who the Beauty, the Bluebeard, the

Cinderella, the Puss-in-Boots, and the Hop-o'-my-Thumb, of

Shakespeare.

The little child is open to emotional appeal, his heart is tender and

he is impressionable. If he feels with the characters in his tales he

develops a power of emotion. In Andersen's _Snow Man_ it is hard to

say which seems more human to him or which makes more of an emotional

appeal, the Snow Man or the Dog. He is sorry for the poor Shoemaker in

_The Little Elves_, glad when he grows rich, delighted for the Elves

when they receive their presents, and satisfied at the happy end.

Since literature depicts life and character in order to awaken noble

emotions, it follows that one must omit to present what awakens

repulsive or degrading emotions. And it is for this reason, as has

been mentioned under the heading "Elements to be avoided," that the

tales of the witch and the dragon must be excluded, not for all time,

but for the earliest years, when they awaken horror.

Through fairy tales we have seen that the emotional power of the child

is strengthened. This has been effected because, in the tale just as

truly as in life, action is presented in real situations; and back of

every action is the motive force of emotion. This cumulative power of

emotion, secured by the child through the handling of tales, will

serve daily a present need. It will be the dynamic force which he will

require for anything he wishes to accomplish in life. It will give the

child the ability to use it in any situation similar to that in which

it was acquired. It will make a difference in his speech; he will not

have to say so much, for what he does say will produce results. This

growing power of emotion will carry over into feelings of relation and

thus lead to judgment of values. This evaluation is the basis of

reasoning and answers to the child's daily call to think from causes

to consequences. This increasing power of emotion develops into the

æsthetic sensibilities and so results in a cultivation of taste and an

understanding of life. Emotion therefore leads to appreciation, which,

when logically developed, becomes expression. Fairy tales, thus, in

conducting emotional capacity through this varied growth and toward

this high development, hold an educational value of no mean order.

(2) The power to appeal to the imagination. Emotion can be aroused by

showing the objects which excite emotion. Imagination is this power to

see and show things in the concrete. Curry says, "Whenever the soul

comes vividly in contact with any fact, truth, etc., whenever it takes

them home to itself with more than common intensity, out of that

meeting of the soul and its object there arises a thrill of joy, a

glow of feeling. It is the faculty that can create ideal presence."

When through imagination we select spontaneously from the elements of

experience and combine into new wholes, we call it creative

imagination.--The creative imagination will be viewed here as it

appears in action in the creative return given by the child to his

fairy tales.--When we emphasize a similarity seen in mere external or

accidental relations or follow suggestions not of an essential nature

in the object, we call it fancy. Ruskin, in his _Modern Painters_,

vol. I, part III, _Of the Imaginative Faculty_, would distinguish

three classes of the imagination:--

(a) _The associative imagination_. This is the power of imagination by

which we call into association other images that tend to produce the

same or allied emotion. When this association has no common ground of

emotion it is fancy. The test for the associative imagination, which

has the power to combine ideas to form a conception, is that if one

part is taken away the rest of the combination goes to pieces. It

requires intense simplicity, harmony, and absolute truth. Andersen's

_Fairy Tales_ are a perfect drill for the associative imagination.

Literature parallels life and what is presented calls up individual

experience. Any child will feel a thrill of kinship with the

experiences given in _The Tin Soldier_--a little boy's birthday, the

opening of the box, the counting of the soldiers, and the setting of

them upon the table. And because here Andersen has transformed this

usual experience with a vivacity and charm, the tale ranks high as a

tale of imagination. _Little Ida's Flowers_ and _Thumbelina_ are tales

of pure fancy. Grimm's _The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean_ and _The

Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle_ rank in the same class, as also

do the Norse _The Doll i' the Grass_ and the English _Tom Thumb_.

(b) _The penetrative imagination_. This power of imagination shows the

real character of a thing and describes it by its spiritual effects.

It sees the heart and inner nature of things. Through fancy the child

cannot reach this central viewpoint since fancy deals only with

externals. Through the exercise of this power the child develops

insight, intuition, and a perception of spiritual values, and gains a

love of the ideal truth and a perpetual thirst for it. He develops

genuineness, one of the chief virtues of originality. He will tend not

to have respect for sayings or opinions but will seek the truth, be

governed by its laws, and hold a passion for perfection. This power of

imagination makes of him a continual seeker, "a pilgrim upon earth."

Through the penetrative imagination the child forgets himself and

enters into the things about him, into the doings of Three Pigs or the

adventures of Henny Penny.

(c) _The contemplative imagination_. This is that special phase of the

imagination that gives to abstract being consistency and reality.

Through the contemplative imagination the child gains the significance

of meaning and discerns the true message of the tale. When merely

external resemblance is caught, when the likeness is forced, and the

image created believed in, we have fancy. The contemplative

imagination interprets the past in the tale and relates it to the

future. It shows what is felt by indicating some aspect of what is

seen. Through the exercise of this power the child develops the

capacity to see. This capacity has received a high estimate from

Ruskin, who said, "Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think,

thousands can think for one who can see." For language-training the

capacity to see gives that ability to image words which results in

mental growth.

The labor of the spirit seeking the full message of the fairy tale,

often is rewarded with bits of philosophy which are the essence of its

personal wisdom. Even the Woman Suffragists of our day might be amused

to find, in _The Cat and Mouse in Partnership_, this side-light on one

of their claims. The Mouse said she did not know what to think of the

curious names, Top-off, Half-Out, and All-Out, which the Cat had

chosen. To which the Cat replied, "That is because you always stay at

home. You sit here in your soft gray coat and long tail, and these

foolish whims get into your head. It is always the way when one does

not go out in the daytime." Sometimes the philosophy of the tale is

expressed not at all directly. This is the case in Andersen's _The

Emperor's New Suit_, a gem in story-telling art--more suited to the

second grade--where the purpose of the story is veiled, and the satire

or humor is conveyed through a very telling word or two.--"'I will

send my _old, honest_ minister to the weavers,' thought the Emperor.

And the old, honest minister went to the room where the two swindlers

sat working at empty looms. 'Heaven preserve me!' thought the old

minister, opening his eyes wide. 'Why, I cannot see anything!'--But he

did not say so." The entire tale is a concrete representation of one

point; and the concreteness is so explicit that at the close of the

story its philosophy easily forms itself into the implied message of

worldly wisdom: People are afraid to speak truth concerning much

through cowardice or through fear of acting otherwise than all the

world. The philosophy underlying _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_ is even

finer as a bit of truth than the perfect art of the literary story:

That what happens in life does not matter so much as the way you take

it. The Tin Soldier always remained steadfast, no matter what

happened. Kipling's _Elephant's Child_ is more charming than ever when

looked at from the standpoint of its philosophy. It might be

interpreted as an allegory answering the question, "How should one get

experience?" a theme which cannot be said to lack universal appeal.

_The Ugly Duckling_ is full of sayings of philosophy that contribute

to its complete message. The Cat and the Hen to whom the duckling

crept for refuge said, "We and the world," and could not bear a

difference of opinion. "You may believe me," said the Hen, "because I

tell you the truth. That is the way to tell your friends." Their

treatment of the Duckling expressed the philosophy: "If you can't do

what I can you're no good." The Hen said to him, "You have nothing to

do, that's why you have such strange ideas." The Duckling expressed

his philosophy by saying quietly, "You don't understand me."

These bits of philosophy often become compressed into expressions

which to-day we recognize as proverbs. The words of the Mother Duck,

"Into the water he goes if I have to kick him in," became a

Scandinavian proverb. "A little bird told it," a common saying of

to-day, appears in Andersen's _Nightingale_ and in _Thumbelina_. But

this saying is traceable at least to the third story of the fourth

night in Straparola, translated by Keightley, _The Dancing Water, the

Singing Apple, and the Beautiful Green Bird_, in which the bird tells

the King that his three guests are his own children. "Even a cat may

look at a king," is probably traceable to some fairy tale if not to

_Puss-in-Boots_. The philosophy in the fairy tales and the proverbs

that have arisen in them, are subjects which offer to the adult much

pleasure and fruitfulness.

But one must ask, "Does this philosophy appeal to the child? Is it not

adult wisdom foreign to his immaturity?" The old folk-tales are the

products of adult minds; but the adults were grown-ups that looked

upon the world with the eyes of children, and their philosophy often

was the philosophy of childhood. For childhood has its philosophy; but

because it meets with repression on so many sides it usually keeps it

to itself. When given freedom and self-activity and self-expression,

the child's philosophy appears also. And it is the inner truth of the

tale rather than the outer forms of sense and shapes of beauty which,

when suited to the little child, appeals to this child-philosophy and

makes the deepest impression upon him.

In the literary fairy tale there often appears a philosophy which is

didactic and above and beyond the child's knowledge of the world. It

remains a question how much this adult philosophy appeals to him.

Although his tales were written for his grandchildren, so finished a

telling of the tale as we find in Laboulaye, with its delightful hits

of satire, appeals more to the grown-up versed in the ways of the

world. But the sage remarks of worldly wisdom of Uncle Remus could not

fail to impress a little boy: "Go where you will and when you may, and

stay long ez you choosen ter stay, en right dar en den you'll sholy

fin' dat folks what git full er consate en proudness is gwine ter git

it tuck out 'm um."--Uncle Remus treated the little boy as if he was

"pestered with sense, like grown-ups," and surely the little boy

gained much amusement from sayings such as these: "If you know the man

thab would refuse to take care of himself, I'd like mighty well if

you'd point him out."--"Well, well," said Uncle Remus soothingly, "in

deze low groun's er sorrer, you des got to lean back en make

allowances fer all sorts er folks. You got ter low fer dem dat knows

too much same ez dem what knows too little. A heap er sayin's en a

heap er doin's in dis roun' worl' got ter be tuck on trus'."--The

child does not get the full force of the philosophy but he gets what

he can and that much sinks in.

It is through the contemplative imagination that the child realizes

the meaning of particular tales. He learns: that _Cinderella_ means

that goodness brings its own reward; that _Three Pigs_ means that the

wise build with care and caution, with foresight; that _Star Dollars_

means compassion for others and kindness to them; and that _Red Riding

Hood_ means obedience.

The power of the contemplative imagination is based on the

indistinctness of the image. It suggests, too, the relation between

cause and effect, which reason afterwards proves; and therefore it is

a direct aid to science. In the tales there are expressed facts of

truth symbolically clothed which science since then has discovered.

And now that folk-lore is being studied seriously to unfold all it

gives of an earlier life, perhaps this new study may reveal some new

truths of science hidden in its depths. The marvels of modern shoe

manufacture were prophesied in _The Little Elves_, and the power of

electricity to hold fast was foretold in _Dummling and his Golden

Goose_. The wonders of modern machinery appeared in the magic axe of

Espen that hit at every stroke; and the miracle of modern canals sees

a counterpart in the spring which Espen brought to the giant's

boiling-pot in the wood. The magic sleep from which there was an

awakening, even after a hundred years, may have typified hypnotism and

its strange power upon man. These are realizations of some of the

wonders of fairyland. But there may be found lurking in its depths

many truths as yet undiscovered by science. Perhaps the dreams of

primitive man may suggest to the present-day scientist new

possibilities.--What primitive man has done in fancy present-day man

can do in reality.

(3) A basis of truth. All fine emotional effects arise from truth. The

tale must hold the mirror and show an image of life. It must select

and combine facts which will suggest emotion but the facts must be a

true expression of human nature. The tale, whether it is realistic in

emphasizing the familiar, the commonplace, and the present, or

romantic in emphasizing the strange, the heroic, and the remote, must

be idealistic to interpret truly the facts of life by high ideals. If

the tale has this basis of truth the child will gain, through his

handling of it, a body of facts. This increases his knowledge and

strengthens his intellect. And it is to be remembered that, for the

child's all-round development, the appeal of literature to the

intellect is a value to be emphasized equally with the appeal to the

emotions and to the imagination. Speaking of the nature of the

intellect in his essay on _Intellect_, Emerson has said: "We do not

determine what we will think. We only open our senses, clear away as

we can all obstruction from the fact, and suffer the intellect to

see." Attention to the intellectual element in literature gives a

power of thought. The consideration of the truth of the fairy tale

aids the child to clear, definite thinking because the experience of

the tale is ordered from a beginning, through a development, to a

climax, and to a conclusion. It assists him to form conclusions

because it presents results of circumstances and consequences of

conduct. Continued attention to the facts, knowledge, and truth

presented in the tales, helps the child to grow a sincerity of spirit.

This leads to that love of actual truth, which is one of the armors of

middle life, against which false opinion falls harmless.

(4) A form, more or less perfect. Form is the union of all the means

which the writer employs to convey his thought and emotion to the

reader. Flaubert has said, "Among all the expressions of the world

there is but _one_, one form, one mode, to express what I want to

say."--"Say what you have to say, what you have a will to say, in the

simplest, the most direct and exact manner possible, with no

surplusage," Walter Pater has spoken. Then the form and the matter

will fit each other so perfectly there will be no unnecessary

adornment.

In regard to form it is to be remembered that feeling is best awakened

incidentally by suggestion. Words are the instruments, the medium of

the writer. Words have two powers: the power to name what they mean,

or denotation; and the power to suggest what they imply, or

connotation. Words have the power of connotation in two ways: They may

mean more than they say or they may produce emotional effect not only

from meaning but also from sound. To make these two suggestive powers

of words work together is the perfect art of Milton. Pope describes

for us the relation of sound to sense in a few lines which themselves

illustrate the point:--

Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows,

And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows.

But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,

The hoarse, rough verse, should like the torrent roar.

When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw.

The line too labors, and the words move slow:

Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,

Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main.

When a kindergarten child, the most timid one of a group, on listening

to the telling of _The Bremen Town Musicians_, at the description of

the Donkey and the Dog coming to the Cat, sitting in the road with a

face "dismal as three rainy Sundays," chuckled with humor at the word

"dismal," it was not because she knew the meaning of the word or the

significance of "three rainy Sundays," but because the sounds of the

words and the facial expression of the story-teller conveyed the

emotional effect, which she sensed.

The connection between sound and action appears in _Little Spider's

First Web_: The Fly said, "Then I will _buzz_"; the Bee said, "Then I

will _hum_"; the Cricket said, "Then I will _chirp_"; the Ant said,

"Then I will _run_ to and fro"; the Butterfly said, "Then I will

_fly_"; and the Bird said, "Then I will _sing_." The effect is

produced here because the words selected are concrete ones which

visualize. Repetitive passages in the tales often contribute this

effect of sound upon meaning, as we find in _The Three Billy-Goats

Gruff_: "Trip, trap; trip, trap! went the bridge as the youngest

Billy-Goat Gruff came to cross the bridge." The sound of the words in

this entire tale contributes largely to the meaning. The Troll roared

and said, "Now I'm coming to gobble you up!" Usually the bits of rhyme

interspersed throughout the tales, illustrate this contribution of

sound to meaning; as in the _Three Pigs_:--

Then I'll huff,

And I'll puff,

And I'll blow your house in!

Especially is this the case in tales dignified by the cante-fable

form; such as Grimm's _Cinderella_:--

Rustle and shake yourself, dear tree,

And silver and gold throw down to me!

Or in _Little Two-Eyes_:--

Little kid, bleat,

I wish to eat!

Or in _The Little Lamb and the Little Fish_:--

Ah, my brother, in the wood

A Iamb, now I must search for food!

The suggestive power of words to convey more than they mean, is

produced, not only by the sounds contained in the words themselves,

but also largely by the arrangement of the words and by the

speech-tunes of the voice in speaking them. Kipling's _Elephant's

Child_ is a living example of the suggestive power of words. The "new,

fine question" suggests that the Elephant's Child had a habit of

asking questions which had not been received as if they were fine.

"Wait-a-bit thorn-bush," suggests the Kolokolo Bird sitting alone on

the bush in placid quiet. "And _still_ I want to know what the

crocodile has for dinner" implies that there had been enough spankings

to have killed the curiosity, but contrary to what one would expect,

it was living and active. When Kolokolo Bird said with a _mournful_

cry, "Go to the banks of the great, grey-green, greasy Limpopo River,"

etc., the implication of _mournful_ is, that there the Elephant's

Child would have a sorry time of it. The expression, "dear families,"

which occurs so often, is full of delightful irony and suggests the

vigorous treatment, anything but dear, which had come to the

Elephant's Child from them.

Perfect form consists in the "ability to convey thought and emotion

with perfect fidelity." The general qualities characteristic of

perfect form, which have been outlined by Professor Winchester, in his

_Principles of Literary Criticism_, are: (1) precision or clearness;

(2) energy or force; (3) delicacy or emotional harmony; and (4)

personality. Precision or clearness demands the precise value and

meaning of words. It requires that words have the power of denotation.

It appeals to the intellect of the reader or listener and demands that

language be neither vague nor ambiguous nor obscure. Energy or force

demands that perfect form have the quality of emotion. It requires

that words have especially the power of connotation. It appeals to the

emotions of the reader or listener and has the power to hold the

attention. It demands of language that sympathy which will imply what

it would suggest. Delicacy or emotional harmony demands that perfect

form please the taste. It requires that an emotional harmony be

secured by a selection and arrangement of the melody of words and of

the emotional associations which, together with the meanings, are tied

up in words. It demands that words have the power of perfect

adaptation to the thought and feeling they express, that words have

both the power of denotation and of connotation. It appeals to the

æsthetic sense of the reader or listener, it gives to form beauty and

charm. Personality is the influence of the author, the charm of

individuality, and suggests the character of the writer.

At the same time that perfect form is characterized by the general

qualities of precision, energy, delicacy, and personality, as

composition consisting of words, sentences, paragraphs, or large

wholes, its elements must be controlled by certain main principles,

which have been presented by Professor Barrett Wendell in _English

Composition_. Perfect form cannot possess the four general qualities

above mentioned unless its elements are controlled by these main

principles. These are: (1) the principle of sincerity; (2) the

principle of unity; (3) the principle of mass; and (4) the principle

of coherence. Sincerity demands of perfect form that it be a just

expression. Unity demands that every composition should group itself

about a central idea. There must be one story, all incidents

subordinated, one main course of action, one main group of characters,

and one tone of feeling to produce an emotional effect. Variety of

action must lead to one definite result and variety of feeling to one

total impression. Unity demands that the tale must have a plan that is

complete, with no irrelevant material, and that there must be a

logical order and a climax. Mass demands that the chief parts of every

composition should readily catch the eye. It maintains a harmonious

proportion of all the parts. Coherence demands of any composition that

the relation of each part to its neighbors should be unmistakable, and

that the order, forms, and connections of the parts preserve this

relation.

When form secures a perfect adaptation of the language to the thought

and feeling expressed, it may be said to possess style, in a broad

sense of the word. In a more detailed sense, when form is

characterized by precision, energy, delicacy, and personality, and at

the same time has the elements of its composition controlled by the

principles of sincerity, unity, mass, and coherence, it is said to

possess style. The fairy tale which is a classic characterized by that

perfect form called style, will possess the general qualities of

precision, energy, delicacy, and personality; and the elements of its

structure, its words, its sentences, its paragraphs, will display a

control of the principles of sincerity, unity, mass, and coherence.

A tale which well illustrates the literary form possible to the

child's tale, which may be said to possess that perfection of form we

call style, and which may be used with the distinct aim to improve the

child's English and perfect his language expression, is the modern

realistic fairy tale, _Oeyvind and Marit_.

_Oeyvind and Marit_ is so entirely realistic as to be excluded here,

but the talking rhymes which the Mother sings to Oeyvind bring in the

fairy element of the talking animals. In the form of this tale, the

perfect fidelity with which the words fit the meaning is

apparent--nothing seems superfluous. When Oeyvind asked Marit who she

was, she replied:--

"I am Marit, mother's little one, father's fiddle, the elf in the

house, granddaughter of Ole Nordistuen of the Heidi farms, four years

old in the autumn, two days after the frost nights, I!"

And Oeyvind replied:--

"Are you really?"--and drew a long breath which he had not

dared to do so long as she was speaking.

The story is full of instances illustrating precision, energy, and

delicacy. In fact, almost any passage exemplifies the general

qualities of form and the qualities of composition. The personality of

the writer has given to the tale a poetic and dramatic charm of

simplicity. Note the precision and delicacy displayed in the opening

paragraph:--

Oeyvind was his name. A low barren cliff overhung the house

in which he was born; fir and birch looked down on the roof,

and wild cherry strewed flowers over it. Upon this roof

there walked about a little goat, which belonged to Oeyvind.

He was kept there that he might not go astray; and Oeyvind

carried leaves and grass up to him. One fine day the goat

leaped down, and away to the cliff; he went straight up and

came where he never had been before.

Energy is apparent in the following passage:--

"Is it yours, this goat?" asked the girl again.

"Yes," he said, and looked up.

"I have taken such a fancy to the goat. You will not give it

to me?"

"No, that I won't."

She lay kicking her legs and looking down at him, and then

she said, "But if I give you a butter-cake for the goat, can

I have him then?"

The justness of expression, the sincerity, is especially impressive

when Oeyvind's Mother came out and sat down by his side when the goat

no longer satisfied him and he wanted to hear stories of what was far

away. There is emotional harmony too, because the words suggest the

free freshness of the mountain air and the landscape which rose round

about the Boy and his Mother.

So she told him how once everything could talk: "The

mountain talked to the stream, and the stream to the river,

the river to the sea, and the sea to the sky."--But then he

asked if the sky did not talk to any one: "And the sky

talked to the clouds, the clouds to the trees, the trees to

the grass, the grass to the flies, the flies to the animals,

the animals to the children, the children to the grown-up

people...." Oeyvind looked at the mountain, the trees, and

the sky and had never seen them before.

There is delicacy or emotional harmony also in the Mother's song. When

Oeyvind asked, "What does the Cat say?" his Mother sang:--

At evening softly shines the sun.

The cat lies lazy on the stone.

Two small mice,

Cream, thick and nice,

Four bits of fish,

1 stole behind a dish,

And am so lazy and tired,

Because so well I have fared.

The unity is maintained through the central interest of the two

Children and the goat.

The tale is characterized by fairly good mass. As the story aims to

portray a natural picture of child life, obviously it could not

maintain a style of too great solidity and force, but rather would

seek one of ease and naturalness. Mass, as shown in _Oeyvind and

Marit_, appears in the following description of Oeyvind's play with

the goat, after he first realized its return:--

He jumped up, took it by the two fore-legs, and danced with

it as if it were a brother; he pulled its beard, and he was

just going in to his mother with it, when he heard someone

behind him; and looking, saw the girl sitting on the

greensward by his side. Now he understood it all, and let go

the goat.

The story of child-friendship is told in distinct little episodes

which naturally connect. That unmistakable relation of the parts which

is essential to coherence, appears in the following outline of the

story:--

1. A new acquaintance; Oeyvind and Marit meet. The exchange of a

goat for a cake. The departure of the goat. Marit sings to the

goat. The return of the goat. Marit accompanies the goat.

2. New interests. The stories of what the animals say, told to

Oeyvind by his Mother. The first day of school.

3. An old acquaintance renewed: Oeyvind again meets Marit at

School.

The Children's love of the goat, the comradeship of Oeyvind and Marit,

of Oeyvind and his Mother, and of Marit and her Grandfather, are

elements which assist in producing coherence. The songs of Marit, and

the songs and stories of Oeyvind's Mother, especially preserve the

relation of parts. In the following paragraphs, which give distinct

pictures, note the coherence secured internally largely by the

succession of verbs denoting action and also by the denotation of the

words.

When he came in, there sat as many children round a table as

he had ever seen at church; others were sitting on their

luncheon-boxes, which were ranged round the walls; some

stood in small groups round a large printed card; the

school-master, an old gray-haired man, was sitting on a

stool by the chimney-corner, filling his pipe. They all

looked up as Oeyvind and his mother entered, and the

mill-hum ceased as if the water had suddenly been turned

off....

As he was going to find his seat, they all wanted to make

room for him. He looked round a long time, while they

whispered and pointed; he turned round on all sides, with

his cap in his hand and his book under his arm....

Just as the boy is going to turn round to the school-master,

he sees close beside him, sitting down by the hearthstone on

a little red painted tub, Marit, of the many names; she had

covered her face with both hands, and sat peeping at him

through her fingers.

The imagination is appealed to continually through the simple concrete

expressions which present an image; as, "He grew hot all over, looked

around about, and called, 'Killy-killy-killy-goat!'"

The emotional element is distinct and pleasing and contributes to the

total impression of admiration for the characters. We admire Oeyvind

for his fondness for the goat and for his pain at losing it; for his

dissatisfaction in keeping it after Marit returned it, though she

wanted it; for his delight in his Mother's stories; and for his

pleasure in Marit's friendship at school. We admire Marit for her

appreciation of the beautiful goat; for her obedience to her

Grandfather; for her sorrow at giving up the goat; for her generosity

in giving the neck-chain with it; and for the childish comradeship she

gave to Oeyvind. We admire the goat for his loyalty to his little

master. We trust the Grandfather who trained Marit to be fair and

courteous; who guarded her from the cliff; and who bought for her

another goat. We have faith in the Mother who had feeling for the

little goat her son bartered for a cake; and who had the wisdom to

sing for her little boy and tell him stories when he was sorrowful and

needed new interests.

Undoubtedly _Oeyvind and Marit_ is a tale which conveys its thought

clearly and makes you feel its feeling, and therefore may be said to

possess style in a broad sense. In a particular sense, because its

form is marked by the four general qualities: precision, energy,

delicacy, and personality; and its elements are controlled by the

principles of composition: sincerity, unity, mass, and coherence, it

therefore may be said to possess style.

An old tale which has a literary form unusual in its approach to the

perfect literary form, is the Norse, _The Three Billy-Goats Gruff_,

told by Dasent in _Tales from the Norse_. Indeed after looking

carefully at this tale one is tempted to say that, for perfection of

style, some of the old folk-tales are not to be equaled. Note the

simple precision shown in the very first paragraph:--

Once on a time there were three Billy-Goats, who were to go

up to the hill-side to make themselves fat, and the name of

all three was "Gruff."

Energy or force appeals to the emotions in the words of the tiny

Billy-Goat Gruff to the Troll:--

"Oh, no! pray don't take me. I'm too little, that I am,"

said the Billy-Goat; "wait a bit till the second Billy-Goat

Gruff comes, he's much bigger."

There is emotional harmony displayed in the second paragraph; the

words used fit the ideas:--

On the way up was a bridge over a burn they had to cross;

and under the bridge lived a great ugly Troll, with eyes as

big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker.

The quality of personality is best described, perhaps, by saying that

the tale seems to have impersonality. Any charm of the story-tellers

of the ages has entered into the body of the tale, which has become an

objective presentment of a reality that concentrates on itself and

keeps personality out of sight. The character of the tellers is shown

however in the qualities of the tale. The charm of the primitive

story-tellers has given the tale inimitable morning-dew freshness.

This seems to result from a fine simplicity, a sprightly

visualization, a quaint picturesqueness, a pleasing terseness, and an

Anglo-Saxon vigor.

Sincerity is displayed in the words of the Troll and of the three

Billy-Goats. Note the sincerity of little Billy-Goat Gruff:--

"Oh! it is only I, the tiniest Billy-Goat Gruff; and I'm

going up to the hillside to make myself fat," said the

Billy-Goat, with such a small voice.

The unity in this tale is unusually good. The central idea which

groups all the happenings in the tale is: Three Billy-Goats are

crossing a bridge to go up to the hillside to make themselves fat.

There are four characters, three Goats and the Troll. All that happens

in the tale contributes to the one effect of a bridge going trip,

trap! as a Goat crossed it on his way up the hillside; of a Troll

roaring: "Who's that tripping over my bridge?" of the explanation of

the Billy-Goat; of the answer of the Troll, "Now I'm coming to gobble

you up"; and of the Billy-Goat's final petition. Unity is emphasized

by the repetition in the tale, as the three Billy-Goats successively

cross the bridge and reply to the Troll. The climax is the big

Billy-Goat Gruff's tramp across the bridge.

This tale is characterized by perfect mass, the paragraphs always end

with words that deserve distinction, and the sentences have their

strongest words at the points where the eye would most readily see

them; as, "But just then up came the big Billy-Goat Gruff." The

coherence is fine, and is secured largely by the cumulative plan in a

threefold sense. The relation of the parts is unmistakable. The

similarity and contrast evident in the episodes of the three

Billy-Goats makes this relation very clearly defined. To make doubly

sure the end has been reached the tale concludes:--

Snip, snap, snout,

This tale's told out.

Let us examine the folk-tale generally as to its literary form. The

folk-tale originally did not come from the people in literary form.

The tale was first told by some nameless primitive man, who, returning

from some adventure of everyday life, would narrate it to a group of

his comrades. First told to astonish and interest, or to give a

warning of the penalty of breaking Nature's laws, or to teach a moral

lesson, or to raise a laugh, later it became worked up into the

fabulous stories of gods and heroes. These fabulous stories developed

into myth-systems, and these again into household tales. By constant

repetition from one generation to another, incidents likely to happen

in everyday life, which represented universal experiences and

satisfied common needs of childhood, were selected and combined. These

gradually assumed a form of simplicity and literary charm, partly

because, just as a child insists on accuracy, savage people adhered

strictly to form in repeating the tale, and because it is a law of

permanence that what meets the universal need will survive. The great

old folk-tales have acquired in their form a clearness and precision;

for in the process of telling and re-telling through the ages all the

episodes became clearly defined. And as irrelevant details dropped

out, there developed that unity produced by one dominant theme and one

dominant mood. The great old folk-tales, then, naturally acquired a

good classic literary form through social selection and survival. But

many of the tales as we know them have suffered either through

translation or through careless modern retelling. Many of the

folk-tales take on real literary form only through the re-treatment of

a literary artist. Mrs. Steel, who has collected the _Tales of the

Punjab_, tells how the little boys of India who seek to hold their

listening groups will vary the incidents in a tale in different

tellings, proving that the complete tale was not the original unit,

but that single incidents are much more apt to retain their stock

forms than plots. The combination we now have in a given tale was

probably a good form once hit upon and thereafter transmitted.

Jacob (1785-1863) and William (1786-1859) Grimm, both fine scholars,

incapable of any but good work, did not undertake to put the tale into

literary form suited to children. They were interested in preserving

folk-lore records for scientific purposes. And we must distinguish

between the tale as a means of reflecting the ideals of social and

religious life, of displaying all the genius of primitive man for

science to interpret, and the tale as a means of pleasing and

educating the child. The Grimms obtained most of their tales from the

lips of people in Hesse and Hanau, Germany. They were very fortunate

in securing many of the tales they were thirteen years in collecting,

from an old nurse, Frau Vichmannin, the wife of a cowherd, who lived

at Niederzwehrn, near Cassel, who told her story with exactness and

never changed anything in repeating. Grimm himself said, "Our first

care was faithfulness to the truth. We strove to penetrate into the

wild forests of our ancestors, listening to their noble language,

watching their pure customs, recognizing their ancient freedom and

hearty faith." The Grimms sought the purity of a straightforward

narration. They were against reconstruction to beautify and poetize

the legends. They were not opposed to a free appropriation for modern

and individual purposes. They kept close to the original, adding

nothing of circumstance or trait, but rendering the stories in a style

and language and development of detail which was their own literary

German.

Perrault (1628-1703) had taken the old tales as his son, Charles, a

lad of ten or twelve, told them. The father had told them to the son

as he had gathered them up, intending to put them into verse after the

manner of La Fontaine. The lad loved the stories and re-wrote them

from memory for his father with such charming naïveté that the father

chose the son's version in preference to his own, and published it.

But the tales of Perrault, nevertheless, show the embellishment of the

mature master-Academician's touch in subduing the too marvelous tone,

or adding a bit of court manners, or a satirical hit at the vanity and

failings of man.

Dasent (1820-96) has translated the Norse tales from the original

collection of Asbjörnsen and Moe. Comrades from boyhood to manhood,

scholar and naturalist, these two together had taken long walks into

the secluded peasant districts and had secured the tales from the

people of the dales and fells, careful to retain the folk-expressions.

Dasent, with the instinct, taste, and skill of a true scholar, has

preserved these tales of an honest manly race, a race of simple men

and women, free and unsubdued. He has preserved them in their

folk-language and in their true Norse setting. Harris (1848-1908) has

given his tales in the dialect of Uncle Remus. Jacobs (1854-) has

aimed to give the folk-tales in the language of the folk, retaining

nurses' expressions, giving a colloquial and romantic tone which often

contains what is archaic and crude. He has displayed freedom with the

text, invented whole incidents, or completed incidents, or changed

them. His object has been to fill children's imaginations with bright

images. Andrew Lang (1844-1912) has given the tale mainly to entertain

children. He has accepted translations from many sources and has given

a straightforward narration. He has collected fairy tales

indefatigably in his rainbow _Fairy Books_, but they are not always to

be recommended for children.

Andersen (1805-75), like Perrault, made his tale for the child as an

audience, and he too has put the tale into literary form. Andersen's

tale is not the old tale, but an original creation, a number of which

are based on old folk-material. Preserving the child's point of view,

Andersen has enriched his language with a mastery of perfection and

literary style. And the "mantle of Andersen" has, so far, fallen on no

one.

To-day it is to be questioned if the child should be given the tale in

nurses' talk. To-day children are best cared for by mothers who feel

ignorant if they cannot tell their children stories, and who, having

an appreciation of their mother English, want their children to hear

stories, not only told by themselves rather than by their servants,

but also told in the best literary form possible. They recognize that

these earliest years, when the child is first learning his language,

are the years for a perfection of form to become indelibly impressed.

The fairy tale, like every piece of literature, is an organism and

"should be put before the youngest child with its head on, and

standing on both feet." The wholesale re-telling of every tale is to

be deplored. And stories which have proved themselves genuine

classics, which have a right to live, which have been handed down by

tradition, which have been preserved by folk-lore records, and which

have been rescued from oblivion,--in this age of books should have a

literary form, which is part of their message, settled upon them. The

Grimm tales await their literary master.

III. THE FAIRY TALE AS A SHORT-STORY

The fairy tale, then, which in an objective sense, from the standpoint

of literature, has proved itself subject-matter of real worth, must be

a classic, must have the qualities of mind and soul, must possess the

power to appeal to the emotions, a power to appeal to the imagination,

and it must have a basis of truth and a perfection of form. But in

addition to possessing these characteristics, because the fairy tale

is a special literary form,--the short-story,--as literature it must

stand the test of the short-story.

The three main characteristics of the short-story, as given by

Professor Brander Matthews in his _Philosophy of the Short-Story_, are

originality of theme, ingenuity of invention, and brevity, or

compression. A single effect must be conceived, and no more written

than contributes to that effect. The story depends for its power and

charm on (1) characters; (2) plot; and (3) setting. In _The Life and

Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson_, by Graham Balfour, Stevenson has

said, concerning the short-story:--

"There are, so far as I know, three ways, and three ways

only, of writing a story. You may take a plot and fit

characters to it, or you may take a character and choose

incidents and situations to develop it, or lastly--you must

bear with me while I try to make this clear.... You may take

a certain atmosphere and get action and persons to express

and realize it. I'll give you an example--_The Merry Men_.

There I began with the feeling of one of those islands on

the west coast of Scotland, and I gradually developed the

story to express the sentiment with which the coast affected

me."

According to the method by which the story was made, the emphasis will

be on character, plot, or setting. Sometimes you may have a perfect

blending of all three.

(1) Characters. The characters must be unique and original, so that

they catch the eye at once. They dare not be colorless, they must have

striking experiences. The Elephant's Child, Henny Penny, Medio

Pollito, Jack of the Beanstalk, the Three Pigs, the Three Bears, and

Drakesbill--the characters of the fairy tales have no equal in

literature for freshness and vivacity. The very mention of the thought

brings a smile of recognition; and it is for this reason, no doubt,

that leading men in large universities turn aside from their high

scholarly labors, to work or play with fairy tales. Besides the

interesting chief characters, moreover, there are many more

subordinate characters that are especially unique: the fairies, the

fairy godmothers and wise women, the elves of the trees, the dwarfs of

the ground, the trolls of the rocks and hills, and the giants and

witches. Then that great company of toilers in every occupation of

life bring the child in touch with many novel phases of life. At best

we are all limited by circumstances to a somewhat narrow sphere and

like to enter into all that we are not. The child, meeting in his tale

the shoemaker, the woodcutter, the soldier, the fisherman, the hunter,

the poor traveler, the carpenter, the prince, the princess, and a host

of others, gets a view of the industrial and social conditions that

man in simple life had to face. This could not fail to interest; and

it not only broadens his experience and deepens his sympathy, but is

the best means for acquiring a foundation upon which to build his own

vocational training. This acquisition is one contribution of

literature to industrial work. Those characters will appeal to the

child which present what the child has noticed or can notice. They

should appear as they do in life, by what they say and by what they

do. This, in harmony with the needs of the young child, makes the

tales which answer to the test of suitability, largely dramatic.

(2) Plot. The characters of the tales can be observed only in action.

Plot is the synthesis of the actions, all the incidents which happen

to the characters. The plot gives the picture of experience and allows

us to see others through the events which come to them. According to

Professor Bliss Perry, the plot should be entertaining, comical,

novel, or thrilling. It should present images that are clear-cut and

not of too great variety. It should easily separate itself into large,

leading episodes that stand out distinctly. The sequence of events

should be orderly and proceed without interruption. The general

structure should easily be discerned into the beginning, the middle,

and the end. Various writers of tales have their particular ways of

beginning. Andersen loses no time in getting started, while Kipling

begins by stating his theme. The old tales frequently began with the

words, "Once upon a time," which Kipling modified to "In the High and

Far-Off times, O Best Beloved," etc. Hawthorne begins variously with

"Once upon a time", or, "Long, long ago"; or, "Did you ever hear of

the golden apples?" etc.--Hawthorne has been omitted in this book

because, so far as I can discover, he furnishes no tale for the

kindergarten or first grade. His simplest tale, _Midas and the Golden_

_Touch_, properly belongs in the second grade when told; when read, in

the fourth grade.--The introduction, in whatever form, should be

simple and to the point. It should give the time and place and present

the characters; and if good art it will be impatient of much

preliminary delay. The great stories all show a rise of interest

culminating in one central climax; and after that, sometimes following

on its very heels, the conclusion where poetic justice is meted out.

This climax is a very important feature in the tale, so important that

it has been said, "The climax is the tale." It is the point where

interest focuses. It makes the story because it is where the point of

the story is made. In a good story this point always is made

impressive and often is made so by means of surprise. The conclusion

must show that the tale has arrived at a stopping place and in a moral

tale it must leave one satisfied, at rest.

If the folk-tale is good narration, in answer to the question, "What?"

it will tell what happened; in answer to the question, "Who?" it will

tell to whom it happened; in answer to the question, "Where?" it will

tell the place where, and the time when, it happened; and in answer to

the question, "Why?" it will give the reason for telling the story, it

will give the message, and the truth embodied in its form. As

narration the tale must have truth, interest, and consistency. Its

typical mood must be action and its language the language of

suggestion. This language of suggestion appears when it shows an

object by indicating how it is like something else; by telling what we

feel when we see the object; and by telling what actions of the person

or object make it hateful or charming. We learn to know Andersen's

Snow Man through what the Dog says of him.

Description, in the sense of a static, detailed delineation of various

qualities of objects, has no place in the child's story, for it bores

the child, who is very persistent in wanting the main theme

uninterrupted. But description that has touches of movement and action

or that lays emphasis on a single effect and has point, distinctly

aids visualization, and produces a pleasing result, as we have seen in

Kipling's _Elephant's Child_. The young child of to-day, trained in

nature study to look upon bird, tree, and flower with vital interest,

to observe the color and the form of these, gains a love of the

beautiful that makes him exclaim over the plumage of a bird or tint of

a flower. To him beauty in the tale must make a direct appeal which

the child unfamiliar with these things might not feel. _The Wonderful

Adventures of Nils_ makes an appeal to the modern child which could

not possibly have been felt by the child living before 1850. The

modern child brought up on phonics is sensitive to sound also, and

open to an appreciation of the beauty of the individual word used in

description. This description, when it occurs, should be characterized

mainly by aptness and concreteness.

Having observed the general characteristics of the narrative contained

in the plot, let us examine the structure of a few tales to see: What

is the main theme of the plot and how it works itself out; what are

the large, leading episodes, and how they culminate in the climax; and

what is the conclusion, and how closely it follows the climax.

_The Story of Three Pigs_

I. _Introduction_. Time. Place. Characters: Mother and

Three Pigs. Mother gone.

II. _Rise_.

1. First Pig's venture with a man with a load of straw.

Builds a straw house. (Wolf enters.)

Wolf comes and destroys him.

2. Second Pig's venture with a man with a load of furze.

Builds a furze house.

Wolf comes and destroys him.

3. Third Pig's venture with a man with a load of bricks.

Builds a brick house.

Wolf comes. (Climax.)

III. _Conclusion_. Third Pig outwits the Wolf.

At the turnip-field in Mr. Smith's home-field.

At the apple tree in Merry-Garden.

At the fair at Shanklin.

At his own brick house.

Evidently the climax here is when the Wolf comes to the third Pig's

brick house. After that things take a turn; and the final test of

strength and cleverness comes at the very end of the tale, at Little

Pig's brick house.

Grimm's _Briar Rose_ is a model of structure and easily separates

itself into ten large episodes.

_Briar Rose_

1. _The Introduction_.

2. The Christening Feast.

(a) The Fairies and their gifts.

(b) The wicked Fairy and her curse.

3. The King's decree.

4. Princess Rose's birthday.

(a) Princess Rose's visit to the old tower.

(b) Princess Rose and the wicked Fairy spinning.

(c) The magic sleep.

5. The hedge of briars.

6. The Prince and the old Man.

7. The Prince and the opening hedge.

8. The Prince in the castle. (Climax.)

9. The awakening.

10. The wedding. (Conclusion.)

The climax here is the Prince's awakening kiss. The blossoming of the

hedge into roses prepares for the climax; and the conclusion--the

awakening of all the life of the castle and the wedding--follow

immediately after.

(3) Setting. The third element of the short-story that is essential to

its power and charm is setting. The setting is the circumstances or

events which surround the characters and action. The setting occupies

a much more important place in the tale than we realize, for it is the

source of a variety of sensations and feelings which it may arouse. It

gives the poetic or artistic touch to a tale. In the old tale the

setting is given often in a word or two which act like magic, to open

to our eyes a whole vision of associations. The road in the _Three

Pigs_, the wood in _Red Riding Hood_, the castle in the _Sleeping

Beauty_--these add charm. Often the transformation in setting aids

greatly in producing effect. In _Cinderella_ the scene shifts from the

hearth to the palace ballroom; in the _Princess and the Pea_, from the

comfortable castle of the Queen to the raging storm, and then back

again to the castle, to the breakfast-room on the following morning.

In _Snow White and Rose Red_ the scene changes from the cheery,

beautiful interior of the cottage, to the snowstorm from which the

Bear emerged. In accumulative tales, such as _The Old Woman and her

Pig_, _Medio Pollito_, and _The Robin's Christmas Song_, the sequence

of the story itself is preserved mainly by the change of setting. This

appears in the following outline of _The Robin's Christmas Song_, an

English tale which is the same as the Scotch _Robin's Yule-Song_,

which has been attributed to Robert Burns. This tale illustrates one

main line of sequence:--

_The Robin's Christmas Song_

1. _Introduction_. A sunny morning. Waterside. A Gray Pussy.

A Robin came along.

2. _Rise_.

Pussy said, ... "See my white fur."

Robin replied, ... "You ate the wee mousie."

_Change in setting_. Stone wall on border of the wood. A

greedy Hawk, sitting.

Hawk said, ... "See the speckled feather in my wing."

Robin replied, ... "You pecked the sparrow," etc.

_Change in setting_. Great rock. A sly Fox.

Fox said, "See the spot on my tail."

Robin replied, "You bit the wee lambie."

_Change in setting_. Banks of a rivulet. A small Boy.

Boy said, "See the crumbs in my pocket."

Robin replied, "You caught the goldfinch."

_Change in setting_. King's palace. The window sill. The

King at the window.

Robin sang, "A song for the King."

King replied, "What shall we give Robin?"

3. _Conclusion_.

_No change in setting_. King's palace. The window sill.

The King at the window.

King Filled a plate and set it on the window sill.

Robin Ate, sang a song again, and flew away.

Here, not only the sequence of the tale is held largely by the change

in setting, but also the pleasure in the tale is due largely to the

setting, the pictures of landscape beauty it presents, and the

feelings arising from these images.

A Japanese tale, in which the setting is a large part of the tale, and

a large element of beauty, is _Mezumi, the Beautiful_, or _The Rat

Princess_.

A Grimm tale in which the setting is a very large element of pleasure

and in which it preserves the sequence of the tale, is _The Spider and

the Flea_, a lively accumulative tale that deserves attention for

several reasons.--A Spider and a Flea dwelt together. One day a number

of unusual occurrences happened, so that finally a little Girl with a

water-pitcher broke it, and then the Streamlet from which she drew the

water asked, "Why do you break your pitcher, little Girl?" And she

replied:--

The little Spider's burned herself.

And the Flea weeps;

The little Door creaks with the pain,

And the Broom sweeps;

The little Cart runs on so fast,

And the Ashes burn;

The little Tree shakes down its leaves.

Now it is my turn!

And then the Streamlet said, "Now I must flow."

And it flowed on and on, getting bigger and bigger, until it swallowed

up the little Girl, the little Tree, the Ashes, the Cart, the Broom,

the Door, the Flea, and at last, the Spider--all together.

Here we have a tale, which, in its language, well illustrates

Stevenson's "pattern of style," especially as regards the harmony

produced by the arrangement of letters. From the standpoint of style,

this tale might be named, _The Adventure of the Letter E_; it

illustrates the part the phonics of the tale may contribute to the

effect of the setting. Follow the letter _e_ in the opening of the

tale, both as to the eye and the ear:--

A Spid_e_r and a Fl_e_a dw_e_lt tog_e_th_e_r in on_e_

hous_e_ and br_e_w_e_d th_e_ir b_ee_r in an _e_gg-shell.

On_e_ day wh_e_n th_e_ Spid_e_r was stirring it up sh_e_

f_e_ll in and burn_e_d h_e_rs_e_lf. Th_e_r_e_upon th_e_

Fl_e_a b_e_gan to scr_e_am. And th_e_n th_e_ Door ask_e_d,

"Why ar_e_ you scr_e_aming, littl_e_ Fl_e_a?"

If we follow the _e_ sound through the tale, we find it in _Flea,

beer, scream, creak, weeps, sweep, reason, heap_, _Tree, leaves_, and

_Streamlet_. This repetition of the one sound puts music into the tale

and creates a center of the harmony of sound. But if we examine the

next part of the tale we find a variety of sounds of _o_ in

_thereupon, Door, Broom, stood_, and _corner_. Later, in connection

with _Cart_, we have _began, fast, past_, and _Ashes_. Other phonic

effects are crowded into the tale; such as the sound of _l_ in

_violently, till, all, leaves_, and _fell_; the sound of _i_ in

_little_ and _Girl_; of _p_ in _pitcher_ and _passing_; of _t_ in

_little_ and _pitcher_; and of _ew_ in _threw_ and _drew_. Altogether

this very effective use of sound is a fine employment of concrete

language, words which present images that are clear-cut as a cameo. It

also gives to the tale a poetical touch.

_Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse_, an English tale, and a parallel of _The

Spider and the Flea_, preserves the same beauty and sequence by means

of its setting and illustrates the same very unusual contribution of

the sounds of particular letters combined in the harmony of the whole.

_The Phonics of the Fairy Tales_ is a subject which yields much

interest and, as yet, has been almost untouched.

In _The Adventures of Chanticleer and Partlet_, in part I, _The Trip

to the Nut-Hill_, taken from Arthur Rackham's _Grimm Tales_, the

setting contributes largely to the attractiveness of the tale, as is

shown in Rackham's beautiful illustration. The setting is given

throughout the tale often in a telling word or two. Chanticleer and

Partlet went up the _nut-hill_ to gather nuts before the _squirrel_

carried them all away. The _day_ was _bright_ and they stayed till

_evening_. The _carriage_ of _nut-shells_; the _Duck_ they met; the

_dirty road_ they traveled in the _pitch dark_; the _Inn_ they arrived

at; the _night_ at the Inn; the early _dawn_; the _hearth_ where they

threw the egg-shells; the Landlord's _chair_ whose _cushion_ received

the Needle; the _towel_ which received the Pin; the _heath_ over which

they hurried away; the _yard_ of the Inn where the Duck slept and the

_stream_ he escaped by; the Landlord's _room_ where he gained

experience with his towel; the _kitchen_ where the egg-shells from the

_hearth_ flew into his face; and the _arm-chair_ which received him

with a Needle--these are all elements of setting which contribute

largely to the humor and the beauty of the tale.

A blending of the three elements, characters, plot, and setting,

appears in the following outline of _The Elves and the Shoemaker_:--

_The Elves and the Shoemaker_

1. _Introduction_. A poor Shoemaker. A poor room containing

a bed and a shoemaker's board. Leather for one pair of

shoes.

2. _Development_.

First night ... Cut out shoes. Went to bed. Shoes ready

next morning. Sold them. Bought leather for two pairs.

Second night ... Cut out shoes. Went to bed. Shoes

ready next morning. Sold them. Bought leather for four

pairs.

One night ... Conversation of Shoemaker and his wife:

"I should like to sit up to-night to see who it is that

makes the shoes." They sat up. Two Elves ran in, sewed,

rapped, and tapped, and ran away when the shoes were

made.

Day after ... Conversation. "These Elves made us rich.

I should like to do something for them. You make each

of them a little pair of shoes, and I will make them

each a little shirt, a coat, a waistcoat, trousers, and

a pair of stockings."

Christmas Eve ... Finished shoes and clothes put on the

table. Shoemaker and Wife hid in the corner of the room

behind clothes, and watched. (Climax.)

Elves came in and put on clothes.

3. _Conclusion_.

Happy end. Elves danced and sang,--

"Smart and natty boys are we,

Cobblers we'll no longer be."

Shoemaker and Wife became happy and prosperous.

The characters of this tale are usual, a poor Shoemaker and his Wife;

and unusual, the dainty Elves who made shoes in a twinkling. But the

commonplace peasants become interesting through their generosity,

kindness, and service to the Elves; and the Elves become human in

their joy at receiving gifts. The structure of the tale is so distinct

as to be seen a thing itself, apart from the story. The framework is

built on what happens on two nights and following nights, the

conversation of the next day, and what happens on Christmas Eve. The

climax evidently is what the Shoemaker and his Wife hid in the corner

to see--the entrance of the Elves on Christmas Eve--which episode has

been interpreted charmingly by the English illustrator, Cruikshank.

The joy of the Elves and of the two aged people, the gifts received by

the one and the riches won by the other, form the conclusion, which

follows very closely upon the climax. The commonplace setting, the

poor room with its simple bed and table, becomes transformed by the

unusual happenings in the place. If we should take away this setting,

we see how much the tale would suffer. Also without the characters the

tale would be empty. And without the interesting, human, humorous, and

pleasing plot, characters and setting would be insufficient. Each

element of the short-story contributes its fair share to the tale, and

blends harmoniously in the whole.

Various standards for testing the folk-tale have been given by

writers. One might refer to the standards given by Wilman in his

_Pedagogische Vorträge_ and those mentioned by William Rein in _Das

Erste Schuljahr_. We have seen here that the fairy tale must contain

the child's interests and it must be able to stand the test of a true

classic. It must stand the test of literature in its appeal to emotion

and to imagination, in its appeal to the intellect through its basis

of truth, and to the language-sense through its perfection of form; it

must stand the test of the short-story and of good narration and of

description. Let us now examine a few of the old tales to see how they

stand the complete test:--

_How the Sun, Moon, and West Wind went out to Dinner_

_This story of How the Sun, Moon, and West Wind Went out to

Dinner_ appeals to the children's interest in a family

dinner--they went to dine with their Uncle and Aunt, Thunder

and Lightning. The characters are interesting to the child,

for they are the inhabitants of his sky that cause him much

wonder: the star, the sun, the moon, the thunder, and the

lightning. To the little child, who as she watched a

grown-up drying her hands, remarked, "I wouldn't like to be

a towel, would you?" the idea of the moon, sun, and wind

possessing personality and going to a dinner-party will

amuse and please. The theme of the story finds a place in

the experience of children who go to a party; and secretly

they will enjoy making comparisons. When they go to a party

they too like to bring something home; but they wouldn't

think of hiding goodies in their hands. They are fortunate

enough to have their hostess give them a toy animal or a box

of sweetmeats, a tiny dolly or a gay balloon, as a souvenir.

The greediness and selfishness of the Sun and Wind impress

little children, for these are perhaps the two sins possible

to childhood; and all children will fully appreciate why the

Sun and the Wind received so swiftly the punishment they

deserved. The thoughtfulness of the loving gentle Moon to

remember her Mother the Star, appeals to them. The rapid

punishment, well-deserved, and the simplicity of the story

with its one point, make it a very good tale for little

children. The whole effect is pleasing. What children recall

is the motherly Star; and the beautiful Moon, who was cool

and calm and bright as a reward for being good.

The structure of the tale is neat and orderly, dominated by

a single theme. The form of the tale, as given in Jacobs's

_Indian Tales_, shows a good use of telling expressions;

such as, "the Mother waited _alone_ for her children's

return," "Kept watch with her _little bright eye_," "the

Moon, _shaking_ her hands _showered_ down such a _choice_

dinner," etc. Here we have too, the use of concrete,

visualized expressions and direct language. There is also a

good use of repetition, which aids the child in following

the plot and which clarifies the meaning. The Mother Star,

when pronouncing a punishment upon Sun, repeated his own

words as he had spoken when returning from the dinner: "I

went out to enjoy myself with my friends." In her speech to

Wind she included his own remark: "I merely went for my own

pleasure."--The examination of this tale shows that it

stands well the complete test applied here to the fairy

tale.

_The Straw Ox_

_The Straw Ox_ is an accumulative tale which has sufficient

plot to illustrate the fine points of the old tale

completely. A poor woman who could barely earn a living had

an idea and carried it out successfully.--Her need

immediately wins sympathy in her behalf.--She asked her

husband to make her a straw ox and smear it with tar. Then

placing it in the field where she spun, she called out,

"Graze away, little Ox, graze away, while I spin my flax!"

First a Bear came out of the Wood and got caught by the tar

so that the Straw Ox dragged him home. The old Man then put

the Bear in the cellar. Then a Wolf, a Fox, and a Hare got

caught in the same way and also were consigned to the

cellar.--The plot has so far built itself up by an orderly

succession of incidents.--But just when the Man is preparing

to kill the animals, they save their lives by promising

vicarious offerings: The Bear promises honey; the Wolf a

flock of sheep; the Fox a flock of geese; and the Hare kale

and cauliflower.--Then the plot, having tied itself into a

knot, unties itself as the animals return, each with the

gift he promised.

The setting is the field where the old Woman placed the Ox

and where she spun, the wood from which the animals came,

and the peasant home. The characters are two poor people who

need food and clothing and seek to secure both; and the

animals of the forest. The peasants need the Bear for a

coat, the Wolf for a fur cap, the Fox for a fur collar, and

the Hare for mittens. This human need produces an emotional

appeal so that we wish to see the animals caught. But when

the plot unties itself, the plight of the animals appeals to

us equally and we want just as much to see them win their

freedom. Each animal works out his own salvation by offering

the old people a worthy substitute. Each animal is true to

his nature in the substitute he offers, he promises what is

only natural for him to procure, and what he himself likes

best. The conclusion is satisfying because in the end

everybody is happy: the old people who have all they need;

and the animals who have life and freedom. The distinct

pictures offered to the imagination are the capture of the

four animals and their return with their life-substitutes.

The form of the tale is a good example of folk-story style,

with its vivid words, direct language, and repetition. This

is one of the tales which is finer than at first appears

because it has a strong sense of life. It touches the

present-day problem: "How can the inhuman slaughter of

animals for man's use be avoided?" Its underlying message

is: Self-help is a good way out of a difficulty.--_The Straw

Ox_ also answers the complete test of the tale with much

satisfaction.

REFERENCES:

The Child:

Barnes, Earl: _Study of Children's Stories_. ("Children's

Interests.")

Dewey, John: _Interest and Effort in Education_. Houghton.

King, Irving: _Psychology of Child Development_. University of

Chicago Press.

Lawrence, Isabel: "Children's Interests in Literature." _N.E.A.

Report_, 1899, p. 1044.

McCracken, Elizabeth: "What Children Like to Read." _Outlook_,

Dec, 1904, vol. 78.

Tyler, John M.: _Growth in Education_. Houghton.

Vostrovsky, Clara: "A Study of Children's Own Stories." _Studies

in Education_, vol. i, pp. 15-17.

Literature:

Baldwin, Charles S.: _Specimens of Prose Description_. Holt.

Brewster, William T.: _English Composition and Style_. Century.

_Ibid.: Specimens of Prose Narration_. Holt.

Gardiner, John H.: _Forms of Prose Literature_. Scribner.

Matthews, Brander: _The Philosophy of the Short-Story_. Longmans.

Pater, Walter: _Appreciations. (Essay on Style_). Macmillan.

Perry, Bliss: _A Study of Prose Fiction_. ("The Short Story.")

Houghton.

Sainte-Beuve, Charles A.: _Essays_. ("What is a Classic?")

Dutton.

Santayana, George: _The Sense of Beauty_. Scribner.

Wendell, Barrett: _English Composition_. Scribner.

Winchester, Caleb T.: _Principles of Literary Criticism_.

Macmillan.

Emotion:

Bain, Alexander: _The Emotions and the Will_. Appleton.

Darwin, Charles: _Expression of the Emotions in Man and

Animals_. Appleton.

Imagination:

Colvin, Stephen: _The Learning Process_. Macmillan.

Curry, S.S.: _Imagination and the Dramatic Instinct_. Expression

Co.

Ruskin, John: _Modern Painters_, vol. r. ("Of the Imagination.")

Children's Literature:

Baker, Franklin T.: _Bibliography of Children's Reading.

(Introduction.)_ Teachers College, Columbia University.

Day, Mary B., and Wilson, Elisabeth: _Suggestive Outlines on

Children's Literature_. S. Illinois Normal, Carbondale.

Dodd, C.F.: "Fairy Tales in the Schoolroom." _Living Age_, Nov.

8, 1902, vol. 235, pp. 369-75.

Fay, Lucy, and Eaton, Anne: _Instruction in the Use of Books and

Libraries_. (Chap, xv, "Fairy Tales.") Boston Book Co.

Field, Mrs. E.M.: _The Child and His Book_. Wells Gardner, Darton

& Co.

Field, Walter T.: _Finger-Posts to Children's Reading_. A.C.

McClurg.

Harron, Julia; Bacon, Corinne; and Dana, J.C.: _A Course of Study

on Literature for Children_. Newark Public Library.

Hosic, James F.: "The Conduct of a Course in Literature for

Children." _N.E.A. Report_, 1913.

_Ibid.: The Elementary Course in English_. University of

Chicago.

Hunt, Clara: _What shall we Read to the Children?_ Houghton.

Kready, Laura F.: "Picture-Books for Little Children."

_Kindergarten Review_, Sept., 1914.

Lowe, Orton: _Literature for Children_. Macmillan.

MacClintock, Porter L.: _Literature in the Elementary School_.

University of Chicago.

Moore, Annie E.: "Principles in the Selection of Stories for the

Kindergarten." _I.K.U. Report_, 1913.

Moses, Montrose: _Children's Books and Reading_. M. Kennerley.

Olcott, Frances J.: _The Children's Reading_. Houghton.