THE PLAYWORK BOOK
THE
PLAYWORK BOOK
BY
ANN MACBETH
WITH 114 DIAGRAMS
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
ROBERT M. MCBRIDE & COMPANY
1918
_Printed in the United States of America_
Published October, 1918
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
A WOOLEN BALL 25
ANOTHER WOOLEN BALL 27
A SPRIG OF FLOWERS 30
A SKIPPING ROPE 33
A SUCKER 37
GOLLIWOGS 38
THE MEAL SACK 40
AN EMERY CUSHION 42
RAT-TAIL KNITTING 44
A PEEP-SHOW PICTURE 46
CUP AND BALL 48
STORKS 50
A CORK DOLL 52
A RABBIT 52
A CORK HORSE 54
AN ENGINE AND TENDER 55
A CHEST OF DRAWERS 56
A CRADLE 57
A DOLL'S TABLE 58
A DOLL'S BED 58
A DOLL'S CHAIR 59
ANOTHER DOLL'S CHAIR 60
NECKLACES 61
A HAT BAND 64
A FAN 65
A PIN-WHEEL OR WHIRLIGIG 65
A TIN WHEEL OR BUZZER 67
A WOODEN MILL 68
A FEATHER WHEEL 70
AN AIR PROPELLER 72
A REVERSING PROPELLER 73
A WATERWHEEL AND SHUTE 74
A POP-GUN 76
A WHISTLE 78
A LONG WHISTLE 79
A SQUEAKER 80
A BUZZER 80
A CLAPPER 81
A TELEPHONE 82
A DRUM 83
A MEGAPHONE 84
RUSH FURNITURE 85
RUSH WHIP 86
RUSH RATTLE 87
PAPER BEADS 88
FISH BONE TEA-SET 89
A RUSH OR RAFFIA BAG 90
THE HARVEST PLAIT 91
DOLL'S FURNITURE 92
A WHEELBARROW 94
A FERN BASKET 95
A DOLL'S STOOL 96
A DOLL'S STOOL OF FEATHERS 97
A PORTER'S HAND BARROW 98
A CRANE 99
A TOP 101
A TEETOTUM 102
BOW AND ARROW 103
A DART 105
A CROSSBOW 106
A CATAPULT 108
A TARGET 109
A RAFT 110
A CANOE 111
A SHIP 114
A PROPELLER 118
A DOLL 119
A BROWNIE 122
KITES 124
A MONKEY ON A STICK 131
A DANCING LADY 134
A MODEL AEROPLANE 136
A FARMYARD 138
A DOLL'S HOUSE 140
THE PLAYWORK BOOK
Far enough below the surface, in every one of us there lives, very
often almost forgotten, the child, who, like Peter Pan, "never
grows up." It is this everlasting child in us that keeps the keys
which open for each his Kingdom of Heaven, and sad it is for
those of us who have lost sight of the keeper of the keys. The
sweetest and loveliest things in our lives are the simplest things.
They do not abide in the excitable enjoyment of luxuries and
entertainments to be bought with money; they lie in the living and
eternal interest of the homeliest things of daily life, wherever
people are simple, and sincere of heart, and full of loving, kindly
thought and care for the concerns of others; where people do things
themselves instead of paying for them to be done; where wealth
is counted in love, in thoughtfulness, and in interest in other
people, and not in many possessions. These things are the heritage
of all children, and we are happy if we can carry our heritage with
us through our life; for this indeed is to be of the Kingdom of
Heaven.
A child who is unspoiled by the false and ignorant estimates of
others with regard to the rank and standing of those among whom
he lives, is perhaps our truest socialist. He comes into the
world possessing nothing, so far as he is aware, save his own
identity; he knows no distinction of class; his ideas of rank are
based solely on the beauty, charm, and kindness which are in due
proportion the characters of those he lives with. He makes his own
little kingdom if he is encouraged to work it out, or play it out,
for himself; and happy is the child and happy is the parent of that
child who learns to play independently, and to gather together
his kingdom, without a continual cry for assistance from others.
Here is one of the first great landmarks in education, and a child
who is unspoiled by too many possessions in the way of toys will
be one well provided, for his mind should at once move to create
these possessions for himself. This power to create, this moving
of the spirit to make something out of chaos, is in all healthy
human beings, and it is the happiest faculty we have. It is, in
fact, one of the most vital sides of religion in us, and perhaps
the most important to us. It brings us into direct kinship with
the Great Creator of all things. This moving of the Holy Spirit
over the chaos of the world, in our businesses, in our workshops,
in our shipyards, in our buildings, in all craftsman's work in
our factories, is probably never realized by the churchmen among
us, and only vaguely apprehended by the educational authorities.
Yet does not this very power of creative thought amongst even the
humblest of us constitute religion of the most living vitality?
This Holy Spirit moving, and living, and creating anew in every
trade and craft, and in every place where men are busy, should
be better realized by us, and more respected; we should then be
better men and women. The inventive minds among us are indeed our
prophets, answering to the call of those whose labor is too long
and heavy, and producing what will lessen the burden. Answering
again the call for more light, more beauty, more music in the
world, and producing our arts and our playgrounds, our games, our
schools and colleges. Answering again the call for freedom from
pain, and we have our hospitals, and our great doctors, and all who
work for the betterment of the world. Here is the real and living
church of God on earth. They say we are leaving the churches behind
us. Say rather that the church is more with us, and all are its
ministers who are working for the world's welfare.
We rebuke far too often that habit of children of asking questions.
We say, "Be quiet," and "You will see some other day"! Yet it is by
questions that the child shows most his interest in life, and his
inclinations and desires and tendencies.
We instruct a child for years in the writings, doings, sayings,
and contrivings of others who have gone before us. How rarely
do we realize that in these little ones there may be as great,
or greater, light within, only needing care and encouragement to
develop and flame up, and show its creative strength? It is sad to
think how often these little lights are snuffed out in their first
flickerings by the thoughtless things we say, by the foolish way
we tease them at the slightest sign of independent thought, by our
ignorant habit of commending and praising those who give up their
independence, and conform to the commonplace habits and customs we
have adopted as convenient.
Many very young children show astonishingly developed faculties
in certain directions even before they can express themselves in
speech. I know a little boy who, in his second year, showed such
an interest in machinery that his elder relatives had to learn
the parts of a locomotive engine in order not to betray their own
ignorance; and over and over again we see the faculties of the
creative mind so strong in young children that it is difficult to
persuade ourselves that they have not some previous experience
to draw upon. Especially is this the case in music and the arts,
for here there is perhaps less dependence on tools and previous
technical training required, than in other constructive work.
But it is sad to see, and very common also, that these bright
beginnings too often flicker out, not because the spirit is
lacking, but because these children are only too often driven to
hide their lights, because they feel conspicuous, are teased, and
rebuked, and chidden for their non-conformity, and are made to feel
themselves outcasts if they pursue the way their spirit tends to
lead them; and they lose their light, these finer little spirits,
and subside into the twilight of mediocre minds.
It is indeed difficult, in these times of over-crowded schools and
over-worked teachers, to foster and develop the personalities of
these little ones, but we all look to a time when education may be
a stronger force among us, more respected and more desired, when
those who teach in our elementary schools may be the finest men
and women we have, those of the greatest hearts, and the widest
understanding (for into their hands we place the most precious
thing we have); a time, when, realizing that the laborer is worthy
of his hire, we must also be brought to realize that the hire must
be worthy of the laborer.
We become more and more socialistic in our community life in these
days, and a child is now so little left to the charge of his mother
that his life, almost from babyhood upwards, is just a passing on
from one trained hand to another till he is able to support himself
independently, and often long after that. His years of school
grow longer and busier, and now even his playtime is to be more
closely guarded and supervised. Yet it is to be hoped that here the
guarding and supervising will be specially directed to preserving
his independence and his choice of leisure occupation.
Games are good for all, yet playtime should emphatically not be
all games: this is where our public schools have failed us; they
have given too much importance to games, and almost none to private
enterprise in constructive play. In the little contrivances of
children lie the germs of vast mechanical and artistic enterprises.
The marvelous crafts passed on to us from ancient days in every
land were never the result of training in schools, they partook
more of the qualities of what I would call "constructive play,"
passed on from parent to child, each new thing a little different
from any other, changing and varying in every age, yet all through
a pleasure and a joy to their makers. Our trades and our crafts
have all their beginnings in the immature constructions we make as
children. We build houses, we furnish them, we make instruments of
music (and un-music), we make ships, we fashion vessels of clay,
and wood, and metal; we weave and we paint; we dimly foresaw the
days when men should fly like birds, and we made kites. All this
went on for countless generations, and then we laid captive the
steam and the electric current, and lo! a change; all things are
possible. Yet we have had a set back; we have forgotten awhile
that the spirit in all of us is greater than the machine. We
have allowed our machines to make our toys, and instead of being
toy-makers our children have to some extent become toy breakers,
not because they are really trying to destroy, but because they
have the right and natural desire to see how a thing is made. It
is not enough, however, to know this; it is very essential that a
child should make for himself, and the probability is that if the
thing is easily bought he will not take the trouble to make it. He
will be inclined to take it for granted that just because it is a
"commercial" article, a thing to be bought in a shop, he cannot
make it. Toys imported from abroad have been so plentiful and so
cheap of late years that the children of to-day rarely attempt
to make them for themselves, and they are immensely the poorer,
intellectually speaking, for the lack of this necessity to make
them. It is for this reason that I have gathered together a small
collection of the contrivances of past generations, and the present
generation too, not in order that they serve as mere subjects for
copy, but because in making such things children develop ideas for
improving upon them, and for making new things.
This little collection of works and enterprises is brought together
as a suggestion for what Scottish folk so aptly call "ploys,"
which the children may undertake without much help or instruction.
Later on it may be possible to collect a more mature series of
suggestions for recreative work in evening schools and continuation
classes. There are people everywhere whose work during the day is
so taxing that they cannot continue to strain mind and hand at the
usual subjects given in evening schools, and yet they can learn
to employ their leisure time very profitably by work which does
not demand either mental strain, nor highly developed skill, nor
any elaborate outfit, nor noisy methods of construction. It must
be truly "leisure" work, and be planned to give refreshment and
stimulation and "play" to weary brain and body.
Such gentle fireside crafts as the decoration of pottery, and
coarse and effective needlework are delightful to practice of
an evening, and need give no trouble to the tidy and anxious
Marthas of the household. No evenings are more pleasant than those
I have spent with friends all busy at quiet crafts round the
hearth, chatting a little, or listening to a reader, or singing
simple songs in parts, and with no accompaniment of instruments.
Constructive design for either of these two crafts is a delightful
thing for either men or women of any age. We are never too old to
learn to design patterns so long as our hands are able to guide a
pen. For what is writing but pattern. Each of us writes his or her
name to an individual design, easily recognized so soon as our hand
has learned to control our instrument. Patterns for these simple
crafts should therefore emanate from the minds of the workers
themselves, and should never be copied if it is possible to avoid
it.
This spirit of creativeness and invention should find a special
period for its development in the day's time-table, and it would
be immensely helpful and interesting if teachers would make
collections of "outstanding" productions from the children, and if
little loan collections of these might travel round from place
to place. The children themselves are always intensely interested
in seeing such things--and sometimes the older folk who have not
forgotten to be children are even more so. I have always urged that
craft-work from our various educational centers should go "on tour"
in this way, and I keep a large quantity of needlework which shows
individuality, from all sorts of schools, going round the country.
This usually is shown to teachers only, which limits its sphere,
for the children themselves show a most enthusiastic interest in
it, and whenever I have shown such work to children in elementary
schools, the chorus of excited little voices usually repeats,
"Oh, I could do that," which is exactly what is needed for a good
beginning. How charming it would be if municipalities would have in
every museum a section of "modern craft work," independent of the
collections of antiquities we store up. For we also have beautiful
things being created amongst us, no less beautiful because they
result from the demands of modern needs and usages.
New habits of life produce new demands, and children quickly catch
new ideas and adapt themselves to the use of hitherto unknown
materials. This is especially the case in cities, and the suggested
constructions for the playwork subjects in this book are almost
all made out of the waste materials the children may readily find
at hand, and they are put together as far as possible, without
any particular need for skill, and with the fewest and simplest
of tools. In the country there is always an immense wealth of
superfluous material to play with, and the country child has a far
greater treasury from which to supply the need of hand and mind
than his neighbor of the city. Imagination can find an immensity
of outlet and opportunity, even in the neighborhood of cities.
I remember well my village of cave dwellings which I carefully
hollowed out beneath the spreading roots of trees--very dirty
trees--in a suburban wood in a Lancashire town. The caves were
furnished with stones and twigs, and populated with earwigs or any
creeping thing to be found and housed there. Later I owned an
island in a Westmorland Lake, and had a beautiful house of woven
branches of the growing rowan trees, with a garden planted with
ferns and wild flowers among mossy bordered paths. And again, my
sisters and brothers and I made fine wigwams of the branches of
young oak and hazel trees found in those lakeland woods; they were
tied together at the top with the fibrous stems of honeysuckle,
spread tentwise at the base, and heaped outside with a covering of
dead bracken and dry leafy twigs. In town too, for wet days there
was always the house under the table, walled in with table cover
and blankets: delightful dwellings all, and happy little "homes"
to live in, for any place is a "home" to us when we look back to
it with happy memory. And the garlands we made of daisies and red
clover, thick as a man's arm and plaited strongly together, with
which we decked the clothes-props on the drying green, and made
them into Maypoles! We remember the joy these things gave, chiefly
because we made them; we remember them far better than the games
we played, or the entertainments we went to.
At school again, my best personal experience, and one that I have
found valuable above all the other education I got, was not the
lessons I learned from books; I have forgotten almost all I got
from them. It was the great days when we had plays in school, and
I was allowed to devise, and practically direct the whole making
of the stage properties. A great time that. We made armor, and
weapons, and crowns, and garments, and wings, and scenery. We had
no assistance from teachers for this, and I know it taught me more
than any of my teachers did. During school days I did not learn to
draw because I had a drawing lesson once a week, and painfully and
carefully drew perspectives of chairs and schoolrooms and other
dull things. I learned to draw because I loved to scribble in my
lesson books princes and princesses, and fairies, and because I had
few playthings, and was always making and decorating little gifts
for other people.
This practise of decorating the things we make is really far the
best way to teach drawing to either children or others. We make our
education in drawing a far too limited affair by directing it to
a pictorial issue alone, and drawing is a far wider subject than
concerns picture-making solely. If we go into our museums, we see
from the ancient handicrafts left to us by primitive peoples, that
in the beginning all art was purely applied to useful things. The
clay jar modelled in the hands alone, with its lines and curves
just emphasized with a few scratches or impressions made with a
stick or a bone, what is this but just play? and yet it is art
also and the art adds immensely to the value of that jar. So also
to-day, if any child takes a piece of clay and makes a vessel by
hand, the very same thing is produced. I have seen little pots made
in schools which it is difficult to distinguish from some of those
of ancient Egypt or Peru in our museums. They are not one whit less
artistic, and yet the art is quite unconscious, the child was only
"playing" with the clay.
We would be much the richer, commercially speaking, if schools
would only take up this different side of art teaching--making
patterns, instead of pictures. I am not condemning the drawing of
pictures, but I am urging that pattern-making--constructive design
in actual material, not on paper--should come first. Pattern is the
mathematics of art, and it can develop the mathematical faculties
far more widely than mere mental calculations can. It must be
learned by wise gradations, and the learner must never be allowed
to get out of hand or run riot with over-elaboration. If we can
teach the children in their drawing lessons to decorate the useful
articles they need for the home, we shall give a great impetus to
the commercial arts. For example, if a child has one lesson at
decorating a piece of pottery with a brush dipped in glaze paint
and decorates it with nothing but a line of dots or strokes, he can
have this fired and fixed and use it, and he also at once looks at
every china shop with a sharply discriminating eye. In a very short
time he will be able to choose between good decoration and bad, he
will understand economy in production, he will very soon demand
from the trade a higher class of design, and he will be willing to
pay for better design because he understands the working of it.
The fashion for amateurs to practice photography did not do harm to
the professional photographer, as was feared at first; it raised
the standard of professional work, and brought more custom, and not
less, to the professional worker. And this holds good in all work,
the more widely and thoroughly it is "understanded of the people,"
the more desirable do the people find it.
There is a great education before art teachers, and they must
realize that they must come into touch with science and mathematics
and general constructive work. They must watch the changing needs
and fashions of the day, and realize that not only in classic
times was the art of the people a beautiful and desirable thing.
They must realize, too, that in this Twentieth Century our hands
are extending their powers, and that by the use of machines
we are reaching a far larger public than unaided hands could
do. The artist has spent two or three generations bewailing the
machine; he forgot that no machine can, of its own powers, be
artistic or inartistic. He left the machine alone, and therefore
the machine-work has fallen into discredit. The artist craftsman
is too often too conscious of his art, and does not subordinate
himself sufficiently to modern ways and conditions. It is not
the fault of the machine that much of our manufactured output is
inartistic, it is the fault of the artist that he has not managed
to control the machine. First and foremost, however, we must have
some change in the training of artists, and must direct their
attention to utility, rather than pictorial work. It is difficult
to count the outlets possible to the decorative craftsman, provided
he understands modern machinery and commercial demands. This
training in handicraft begins, very rightly and naturally in the
kindergarten schools, but there, unfortunately, it stops short.
Now what we want to do is to plan out for our growing children
such crafts as will develop intelligence and skill of hand, without
demanding too great physical strength or technical training, and
without undue expenditure of money upon materials and outfit.
For the younger children the easiest media to work in are clay and
needlework. The clay-work should be directed to the most permanent
and useful things that can be produced; pottery and tiles can be
very easily made, and are very permanent if they are glazed and
fired and decorated, and this can be done at very little expense.
Needlework must be taught so that the worker develops intelligence
and independence, and is no longer made to sew the multitudes of
fine stitches which were once considered necessary, and which made
the girls mere unthinking machines. There are endless new ways
to be followed out in the sewing and embroidery and construction
of garments and household textiles. Even the rather mechanical
knitting is probably only in its infancy as yet, and we may see it
do great things, and play a more beautiful part in our textile
arts. To reform and renew the vitality of all these things we must
realize that they have all their beginnings in the playwork of
the little child, and that simply because the little child has no
traditions to unlearn, and is therefore independent enough to think
out new devices in his play, so must we all keep before us the fact
that we have that light within us which is above, and independent
of, traditions.
If we can see any way in which any work can be improved or altered,
or beautified by some change in its treatment, we must be bold to
try it, for only by courage and bravery of thought does the work of
the world keep itself fresh and ever renewed and changing towards
better things. Never be afraid that because you have not tried to
do a thing you will be unable to do it. If the thought of doing
it has come to you, it is a sign that some power is there, at any
rate, and the impulse to improve and change a thing for the better
is just that creative impulse stirring within, which I have pleaded
for. Whose is that impulse? Not our own entirely. Then surely if
it is good, we do right at least to try to carry it out. It is the
Mind that changes matter, but it is not your mind nor mine, though
it is in our charge. And happy is he who has faith to listen and
give it force and visible expression.
There are in this little book things that many of the wiser folk
shake their heads over--catapults for instance. Yet I have put
them in; for surely if we older folk had not enjoyed our catapults
we should probably have been sadder folk, as well as wiser. All
children may some day or other handle instruments of offense and
destruction, and it is part of their legitimate education to
learn to do no harm with them, so I have put in the catapult. I
enjoyed playing with mine, and I do not think I ever broke anything
with it, I do not even remember hitting anything I aimed at, and
probably this is the average experience. I have not attempted to
enter into any lengthy suggestions as regards making boats, or
other toys requiring much patience and skill and knowledge of
tools. Boat-making is a most interesting thing for both boys and
girls, and can be carried to great perfection by them, if they
have perseverance. I see no reason why the making of model boats
and mechanical toys should not be the special work of boys' manual
classes, nor is there any reason why a great quantity of the
craft-work and needlework in day and evening schools should not be
commercialized, and disposed of by the educational authorities,
both to the advantage of the teachers and the pupils. One field
alone--that of providing souvenirs for sale to tourists--is a
large one, and is at present open to the schools. Tourists do
not come here with any desire to buy souvenirs made abroad; they
would greatly prefer things with a local flavor, and preferably
small and portable. I know from personal experience how immensely
such a market encourages students to work at their classes in the
evenings. We could keep the evening schools packed with students
if they realized that their work, done in leisure hours, had some
prospect of bringing in a return instead of involving outlay
alone. This also is playwork; and though this small book deals only
with such playwork in its infancy, yet it must be emphatically
urged that it develops into great things, things that the nation
needs, and which can only come to their full development because
the nation's children have learned to play.
My thanks are due to my grandfather, grandmother, and my father and
mother, and to my nurses whose names I have forgotten, but from
whom I learned to make many things. Also to Mrs. Grisedale, Mrs.
Wear, Mrs. Fry, Mrs. Fellows, Miss Allright, Miss Worsdell, Miss
Douglas, Miss Arthur, Mr. J. T. Ewen, H.M.I., Mr. Forrester Wilson,
and to Norman Guild, for many suggestions, and for their very
practical help.
A WOOLLEN BALL
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A small strip of thick cardboard, a small piece of string, wool,
scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 1 AND 2.]
This is the easiest of all the things one can make in wool. Take a
narrow piece of stiff cardboard, or a flat stick about five inches
long and about one inch wide, and make a slit at each end: between
these two slits stretch a piece of thin string and then, about the
middle of the strip of cardboard, wind the wool over and over till
it is like a ball. Do not allow the wool to spread too far along
the cardboard. When the ball of wool is two, or two and a half
inches in diameter, loosen the string from the slits, and slip out
the cardboard carefully from the ball; you will not have a bundle
of wool with a string running through all the loops. Tie the string
up tightly and knot it well, then take your scissors and cut the
loops as in Figure 2. After all the loops are cut you will have to
clip all the loose ends, till they are about even in length, and
the bundle will now be a nice regular shape. This is a somewhat
wasteful way of making a ball, and should only be used by very
little children with waste wool or cotton yarn. It teaches them,
however, a very useful thing--to wind wool evenly, and to cut and
trim it.
ANOTHER WOOLLEN BALL
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Two used postcards or pieces of thin cardboard, a strong darning
needle, odd pieces of bright-colored wools, scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 3 AND 4.]
A very much better way to make a woollen ball, but more difficult,
is shown in Figures 3 and 4. Here you must first have a piece of
fairly stiff cardboard and on it lay a teacup or tumbler with the
rim on the cardboard. Draw with a pencil, or scratch with the
scissors round the rim so that you have a circle about three and
a half or four inches across on it, and cut these circles out.
Then take some smaller circular thing, a quarter, or something
about that size, and place it carefully in the center of each of
your larger circles, and cut out the smaller circle like a hole
in the middle of the bigger one. Now take some wool--you can have
it of many bright colors, and if you have any old woollen knitted
things which you do not need you can unravel them. Slip one end
of your wool through the hole of both pieces of cardboard when
they are laid together, tie it in a knot, and with your fingers
at first, and later with a darning needle, keep winding the wool
through the hole and over and over the cardboard until it is all
covered. Go on winding it through the hole, until the hole is so
full that even your needle will not push through. Then you must
take sharp scissors and carefully cut the wool at the outer edge
of this round cushion you have wound, till the scissors cut into
the cardboard, so that you can slip one point between the two cards
and cut right round the circle. You must be careful not to let the
wool be pulled out of the hole through which you have threaded it.
Now take a piece of thin strong string, slip it round between
the two cardboard circles, wind it two or three times, and tie it
very tightly. Next, carefully tear away your two cardboard rounds
and you will have a fine firm ball, which only needs cutting
and trimming with the scissors into an even shape. You can make
this ball look very pretty by arranging your wool as you wind
it into different layers of varying color or make a quarter of
your circle of one color and the next quarter of another, and so
on. Small balls made like this make pretty pompoms for shoes and
hats, and tassels on bags, or they can be fixed on drawstrings in
underclothing, to prevent them coming out.
A SPRIG OF FLOWERS
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A little thin cardboard, wools of various bright colors,
milliner's wire, a small darning needle, scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 5 TO 9.]
This can be made very much as the second woollen ball is made. You
take a circle of cardboard again, but rather a smaller one about
two inches across (a small ink bottle or an egg-cup would give
about the right size); and cut in it a round hole about as big as
a dime. Wind bright-colored wool through the hole and over the
cardboard very evenly, using a darning needle because it is such a
small hole. Wind on wool until all the cardboard is covered evenly.
Then take a piece of wire about six inches long, or a hairpin will
do if straightened out. You can do this by holding the ends tightly
in each hand and rubbing the pin backwards and forwards against
the edge of a table. At one end of the wire bend it, so that it
makes a little loop, the smaller the better. Now begin with green
wool to wrap round the wire, covering in the loop first, and when
you have covered in the whole loop wind the wool over the end of
the bent piece again, and bind it tightly to the other portion,
and go on down the wire for some distance. With another hairpin
(not straightened out this time, but bent as much to a point as
possible) or another piece of wire bent like a V, tie the green
wool at the bend, and wind in and out from one side of the wire
to the other, first letting the sides go wide from each other and
then gradually tightening them together, till you have them closed
again and they become a leaf shape. Bind this leaf into the first
wire stem, and add more leaves if you wish. Now wind over the
first two fingers of your left hand some yellow or dark-colored
wool about a dozen times, and take the end of the wool and tie it
through when you withdraw your fingers, as in making the first
woollen ball. Hold these loops tight from this knotted part, and
wind the end of the wool round till it is like Figure 6, a little
tassel; take your darning needle and sew this tassel into the hole
in the circle of cardboard so that it makes a center for your
flower, and sew the cardboard flower to the loop at the end of the
wire. You can make two or three small tassels for this center if
you like, and bind them first around the loop so that they fill up
the hole in the cardboard quite tightly. More tassels can be made
and tied to wires and bound into the main wire stem like little
buds. These sprigs look very pretty when worn in hats, and they
will not spoil with the rain: you can also put a large spray in a
vase when you cannot get real flowers.
A SKIPPING ROPE
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Some cheap thin string or cotton waste, some small twigs, a pencil
or penholder, a strong hook fixed in a wall.
[Illustration: FIGS. 10 TO 12.]
Take three or four lengths of thin string--a very cheap quality
will do--about three yards long, and tie them into a knot close to
each end. Be sure that every separate piece is of the same length.
Then take one knotted end and slip the knot round a hook in the
wall, not too high up; a curtain hook will do very well, or any
other knob or projecting thing which will allow a very small loop
to slip off and on, and which will hold firmly. Into the other
end, at the knot, slip a pencil or penholder, and hold the strand
of strings or threads with the left thumb and forefinger loosely,
just beyond the place the pencil is slipped into it, as in Figure
10. With the right hand first finger hit the pencil round and round
away from you, _downwards_, keeping it whirling so that the long
strand becomes twisted. Do not hold too tight with the left hand,
but be sure to keep the strands taut from the hook where they are
fastened. Keep on whirling until the strand is twisted so tightly
that it begins to go into kinks. Then get somebody to catch the
strand about the middle, and keeping it carefully taut all the time
walk round until you bring the pencil end up to the hook, and slip
the strand from the pencil on to the hook. Then take the pencil to
where the strand is being held in the middle and slip it into the
doubled end, and holding it as tightly as possible from the hook,
as before, whirl the pencil in the opposite direction, towards you,
_upwards_, as in Figure 11. This will make a beautiful cord. The
pencil can be slipped out now, and the ends on the hook must be
knotted together so that the cord will not unravel. This is called
a "twofold cord," and it can be made in two colors if you divide
the length before the first twisting into two equal lengths of
differently colored threads. A "threefold cord," can be made in the
same way, but it must be folded into three different lengths before
the second twisting, and three different colors may be introduced.
A threefold cord is much fuller and firmer than a twofold one.
Cords can be made of wool or silk or any kind of thread, and must
be made of few or many strands according to the thickness required,
and according to the thickness of the strands used. Thin woollen
cords are very nice to run into woolen garments as drawstrings,
or into bags; thick ones made of knitting yarn are splendid for
dressing-gowns, and the ends can be finished off with tassels.
If you make a skipping rope in this way you will want a firm handle
at each end, and you can make it by getting three or four small
sticks or twigs, and laying them close to each end round your
cord. Then bind these round, at both ends of your skipping rope,
with firm twine. Next take the end of the rope which projects
beyond the twigs, and double the strands back along the twigs
for a short distance, and bind them down again and cut away any
superfluous length, and knot your binding string firmly. This will
make a very pretty little handle, especially if you can get pretty
greenish twigs with the bark on them and tie with colored threads
or twine. Figure 12.
A SUCKER
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A small piece of thick leather, strong string, scissors or
penknife.
[Illustration: FIG. 13.]
This is a very interesting toy to play with. It is very simple to
make: all it needs is a round piece of fairly thick leather about
four inches across. Cut this into a perfect circle with a knife,
if the leather is too thick to cut with scissors, and in the very
middle bore a small hole and put through this a piece of strong
string, about a yard long, and tie a knot in this so that it will
not slip through the hole. Now soak your leather in water till it
is very soft and damp, and keep it in this condition whenever you
use it. By dropping the round of damp leather quickly on to the
surface of a smooth stone you will be able to lift and carry quite
large stones. You must be sure to drop the sucker on to the smooth
surfaces, because if there are any little crevices under the sucker
the air in them will prevent suction.
GOLLIWOGS
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Colored wools, a little string, cotton, or silk, and a tiny piece
of tape; a large-eyed needle, scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 14 TO 18.]
These golliwogs are made of tassels of wool. First wind your tassel
over your fingers much as you wound it for the first woollen ball
on the cardboard. Then cut the loops, and tie very tightly with
several turns of strong cotton or silk close to the end, and again
about half an inch lower. This forms the head, and the ends at the
top can be trimmed into a top knot. Below the head, divide off a
small portion on each side for the arms, and tie each of these
again about half way down, and cut off just below the tied portion,
where the dotted line is in Figure 14. Tie also for the waist at
the double dotted line, and then, if legs are required, divide the
remaining part of the tassel into two, and tie at the feet. Take a
needle with thread or wool of a different color from that you have
used for the golliwog, and stitch in eyes and nose. Figure 15 makes
a very good Zulu chief, if he is made in black wool. Figure 16 is
a Red Cross nurse. She can be made in light blue or gray wool, and
her cap and apron are made of a small piece of tape, each sewn with
a red cross. Her cap must be folded and stitched up the back like
Figure 17, and her neck, wrists, and belt must be wound with white
thread. The little turban golliwog, Figure 18, has his headdress
made of a short bundle of wool of another color pushed through the
folded loop of wool which forms his head. His arms also can be a
separate bundle of strands pushed through the body portion.
THE MEAL SACK
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A tiny piece of calico, white cotton, cotton wool, scent powder
or lavender flowers, several apple pips, needle and thread, and
scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 19 TO 21.]
This makes a very pretty scent bag or pincushion.
Take a small piece of calico or any cotton scrap, about three
inches wide and six inches long, and fold it across the middle.
Take a needle and cotton and tack it up the sides, and down again,
if you cannot make small stitches, keeping both rows of stitches
very close together. Now fray out the threads at the ends of your
strip, and turn the bag inside out. You can fill it with lavender
if you like, or stuff it with cotton wool and some powdered scent;
or you can stuff it quite tight with bran instead, and make a
pincushion of it. Tie the opening up tightly with strong thread,
Figure 20. Now take one or two pips from an apple or an orange, to
make a mouse: if it is an apple pip take a penknife and scratch
out eyes and ears, as in Figure 21. If you use an orange pip you
can ink in the eye and the ear. Now stitch your little mouse on to
your meal sack, and it will be a very dainty little gift to put by
for Christmas. You can also make pretty sets of scent bags out of
bits of ribbon or silk patterns from the dressmaker's, or cut off
any old scraps of thin materials you find. Make six little bags
of different colors and stuff with cotton wool and scent, and tie
round the neck of each the end of a piece of narrow baby ribbon;
tie the first bag with a piece nine inches long, and each of the
other bags should have a ribbon a little longer than the last. Then
tie all the loose ends of the six ribbons together with a bow of
ribbon, and you will have a charming cluster of sachets to hang in
a wardrobe.
AN EMERY CUSHION
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A tiny piece of red ribbon or silk, a tiny piece of calico or
cotton material, strong red cotton thread, yellow or silk thread,
green wool, a little emery powder, a tiny piece of hard soap or
wax candle, scissors, and crewel needle.
[Illustration: FIGS. 22 TO 24.]
To make this you must get a little bright red material about three
inches square and a little thin cotton material the same size. Lay
both together and fold them diagonally across from corner to corner
with the red material inside, and with fine thread and needle and
very small stitches sew it from the two loose corners up to the
point where it is folded, so that it forms a triangular bag. Now
the bag should be folded over so that you can measure off on the
diagonal fold the same length as the stitched seam, and cut away
the extra material as in Figure 22. Now take some hard soap, or a
piece of wax candle, and rub it hard all over the cotton material
in order to prevent your emery stuffing getting out, trim off any
extra thickness of material at the point, and turn the bag red side
out and run it very finely round the opening with strong needle and
thread. Draw the thread up a little, as in Figure 23, and now take
your emery powder and fill up tight with that. If you cannot get
emery get some fine dry sand, or you can even pound up some cinders
out of the fire, and fill your little bag very tight with the
powder you make, and draw up the thread and stitch it very close.
Next you must take your green wool or silk, and make long loop
stitches all round the top until all the opening and the gathered
up portion is neatly covered with these stitches, like sepals on
a flower. Stitch on a little cord or loop of ribbon, and with a
yellow thread make even stitches all over your little bag, till it
looks just like a strawberry--Figure 24.
RAT-TAIL KNITTING
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A large cork, large reel, or a small piece of a narrow cardboard
roller, strong pins, preferably those known as "laundry pins," a
small crochet hook, colored wools.
[Illustration: FIG. 25.]
This is known as rat-tail knitting, or cork or bobbin work. It can
be made either by boring a hole in a large flat cork and setting
seven or eight pins in round this hole, or by setting the pins into
a reel with a large hole, but I have found the best thing is to
get a small tube of cardboard such as paper is rolled on (out of a
toilet roll, for instance), and to stick the pins firmly into the
cardboard, as in Figure 25. Five or six pins will do. Take colored
wool and loop it once round each pin, then wrap it very loosely
once round the whole circle of pins, and, with another large pin
or a small crochet hook, lift each loop up and over the last wrap
of the thread, and over the head of the pin. Do this right round
the circle of pins, so that you have now a second series of loops
made from the thread which was wrapped round above the first ones,
while the first loops have begun to descend into the tube. Work
round and round till the end of your knitted rat-tail appears out
of the tube at the lower end. You can knot on lengths of wool of
other colors and make very pretty reins with them. You can, if
you like, work with two differently colored threads, all the time
using one color for the loops you lift, over a wrap thread of
another color, alternating as you work round and round your circle.
This is really just the way a knitting-machine works, very much
simplified. You can do the same on a larger scale with a wooden
ring into which pegs of wood are inserted, and this will make quite
a large woollen muffler.
A PEEP-SHOW PICTURE
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A small piece of glass from an old photograph-frame, some firm
brown or colored paper, any tiny flowers, leaves, etc., a piece of
stamp paper.
[Illustration: FIG. 26.]
Collect a tiny bunch of the smallest flowers you can find, daisies,
buttercups, violets, even little weeds like chickweed, and small
grasses, clover leaves, or sprays of moss; tie them very loosely
in a little bunch. Now lay your piece of glass down on your paper
(the paper may be any color, but the blue sugar-bag paper looks
very pretty.) Take your little bunch of flowers and arrange it flat
on the glass, with the faces of the flowers pressed against the
glass, and the leaves and moss pressed flat on top of them. Put
the prettiest side of them next the glass. When all the surface of
the glass is fairly well covered fold the paper over the flowers
so that it makes a neat parcel, and fasten down the corners of the
parcel with stamp paper. Then turn your parcel over, and round
three sides, about half an inch from the edge, cut a neat line, so
that the paper will now lift like a flap and show your very pretty
picture. Seaweeds can be used instead of flowers--and if so, they
should be arranged on the glass in a dish of water and floated into
place.
CUP AND BALL
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
A piece of thin cardboard about eight inches square, scraps of
tissue paper, string, odd scraps of veiling, net, or thin silk or
muslin, paste or mucilage, scissors.
[Illustration: FIG. 27.]
This is a very good toy to play with, and can be easily made. Get
a piece of cardboard about six inches square and draw a line from
corner to corner and cut it across. Then roll this triangle of
cardboard into a long cone shape, about two and a half inches wide
at the open end, and with a strip of thin gummed paper across the
overlapping edge fix it down tight, so that it will not open out
again. With the scissors trim the open end to an even round. Next
take a large piece of tissue or any other thin soft paper, and
roll it into a neat round ball, which must loosely fit the opening
of the cone. Wind a thread of wool over it in one direction, and
another so that it keeps its shape. Now, if you can get a piece of
a black veil, or some very thin soft net or muslin, cover over the
ball so that it looks quite neat and round and even, and stitch a
thin string about eighteen inches long to it. You can now cover the
cup also with the veiling if you wish to, and if so, leave about
three inches over at the open end, which must be drawn together,
and the draw thread then pushed down inside the cone and fastened
off at the closed end. It can have a little cork put in to fill it
up. Put the end of the string through a hole near the opening of
the cone and your cup and ball is finished.
STORKS
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Large flat corks, ordinary bottle corks, large and small.
Hairpins, burnt matches, small feathers, penknife.
[Illustration: FIG. 28.]
First, for the body of the big stork get a good large cork, and
with a penknife cut it into a longish egg shape; then another small
cork must be cut almost round for the head. For the base the stork
stands on one of the large corks out of pickle jars does best, but
if you cannot get one take several pieces of thick cardboard and
paste them together, or take the lid of a small cardboard box and
make holes for the ends of the legs in it, and after pushing the
ends of the hairpins through, run them into small pieces of cork,
so that they will keep in place when standing. Now get a burnt
match and sharpen it at either end, and push one end of it into the
head, and the other into the body, and set the legs into place in
the body also. Use hairpins that have no waves or angles in them,
so that the bend of the pin makes the right bend for the leg. Make
the beak of two matches, trimmed to a sharp point, and you can use
a tiny black bead for the eyes, or draw them with ink. The feathers
for the crest and wings and tail must be stuck into holes, after
having a little mucilage put on the end of the quill.
A RABBIT
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Large cork, tiny piece of brown paper, a fragment of cotton wool,
needle, strong thread, penknife, scissors.
[Illustration: FIGS. 29 AND 30.]
This also is of cork, shaped out to rather a point at the head and
cut flat underneath. Cut little nicks on each side to define the
feet. The ears are of brown paper cut like Figure 30, with corners
folded over and glued or put on with a stitch of strong linen
thread, small dot of ink or a small bead makes the eye.
A CORK DOLL
MATERIALS REQUIRED:--
Flat cork, two bottle corks, burnt matches, a tiny piece of thin
cotton material, the same of white paper and of colored ribbon, a
large; pin, a little black or brown wool, needle, mucilage.
[Illustration: FIGS. 31 AND 32.]