great hero tales. The cheap theaters of the day are doing an untold
amount of harm by giving to children false ideals of life. The best
way to overcome this evil is to recognize the need for dramatic
expression and allow children to set out their favorite stories. For
instance, if archery grounds are provided, the children will naturally
gravitate toward them after listening to the Robin Hood Ballads. On a
summer afternoon a beautiful out-of-door pageant could be enacted by
Robin Hood and his Merry Men. The stories of King Arthur, with proper
training on the physical side, might lead to a tournament as the most
interesting event of the playground season. This close relation between
impression and expression finds a unifying centre in dramatization
which appeals alike to young and old. Properly developed and directed,
it will eventually create an appreciation for the good, the true, and
the beautiful in music, art and literature.
The playground is the key to the Democracy of art. Let us hope that
those interested in the playground movement will have that diffused,
imaginative ardor of the Prophets of old, when young men saw visions
and old men dreamed dreams.
WINTER AND THE PINE TREE[1]
[1] This story is freely translated from the German as told in Alues
und Neues, a book of easy German stories by Karl Seeligman, published
by Ginn and Co. (Ed.)
When God the Lord had created the world, when the trees, fresh and
beautiful, stood in the forest and the flowers in the field, he called
the seasons and said: “You may divide the trees and flowers among
yourselves, but you must love and care for them.” This made the seasons
very happy and they played with the children of nature early and late.
All went very well for a time, but soon discord began to appear. Bold,
restless Spring could not get along with plodding thoughtful Winter;
the glowing Summer found Autumn phlegmatic; Autumn scolded Spring
because she spoiled the flowers. The quarrel grew worse from day to day
and all joy was at an end.
Thereupon Autumn said: “Things can go on this way no longer; we cannot
get along together. Come let us divide the earth among ourselves.” And
this is what happened. The seasons divided the earth among themselves.
Winter built himself two houses at the two poles; Summer encircled the
earth at the middle, and Spring and Autumn took the realm in between.
The earth was now apportioned and each season had a realm of his own.
But fickle Spring soon brought to pass another change. She did not like
the idea of remaining always in one place and therefore called the
seasons together and made them this proposition: “Why should we always
remain in one place when the entire earth belongs to us? Would it not
be better if each of us had a definite time in which the entire earth
belonged to him alone?” “I should be satisfied,” said Winter, “if I
could keep the poles.” As the other seasons were satisfied with the
idea, the agreement was made. Spring wanted to begin her rule at once
and so thoughtful winter said:—“In order that one may not take all the
beauties of the earth for himself, let us divide them!”
“Good,” said Spring, “I will take the buds.”
“To me shall belong the flowers,” said Summer. “The fruits are mine!”
cried Autumn, “and Winter shall have the leaves of the trees!”
Winter was satisfied, the agreement was made and Spring began her
rule. She kissed the flowers till the buds came out and smiled at
her. When the buds were opening, the rule of Summer began. But now
something happened by means of which poor Winter came to be cheated. A
warm friendship began to spring up between the leaves on the trees and
the flowers in the grass. They often teased one another. When the sun
wished to shine warm upon the flowers, the leaves of the trees placed
themselves between, but before the flowers thought of it, the leaves
bent away so that the sun beams fell suddenly upon the flowers and
blinded them. Or, during a cool rain, the leaves collected many drops,
and when the flowers thought that the rain was over, they let the drops
fall down. This startled the flowers and they shook their heads.
In the meantime the rule of Summer had come to an end. Autumn sat on
the throne of the earth and wished to pick the late flowers. Then the
leaves came and begged Autumn to let them go down to the flowers. And
Autumn granted their wish, even though he did not have the right to do
so. He shook the trees so that the loose leaves all fell to the earth.
And then a gay time began! Autumn played a wild melody, and the leaves
danced among the flowers, till they, tired and faint, let their heads
hang. Soon the leaves themselves laid down for a long sleep.
Now winter came. Bare and deserted, meadow and forest received him. The
only green that greeted him was the pine trees, because the flowers
would have nothing to do with their sharp needles. Winter was deeply
moved when he saw them, and while he was whipping off the last leaves
which were still hanging on the trees here and there against their
will, he said to the pine trees: “I will protect and guard you. When
all other trees stand bare and desolate, you shall glisten in the
freshest green, because you were true to me!”
This is the story of Winter and the Pine Tree.
ARTHUR AND THE SWORD
Once there was a great king in Britain named Uther, and when he died
the other kings and princes disputed over the kingdom, each wanted it
for himself. But king Uther had a son, the rightful heir to the throne,
of whom no one knew, for he had been taken away secretly while he was
still a baby, by a wise old man called Merlin, who had him brought up
in the family of a certain Sir Ector, for fear of the malice of wicked
knights. Even the boy himself thought Sir Ector was his father, and he
loved Sir Ector’s son, Sir Kay, like an own brother. The boy’s name was
Arthur.
When the kings and princes could not be kept in check any longer,
Merlin had the archbishop of Canterbury send for them all to come to
London. They came up to London at Christmas time, and in the great
cathedral a solemn service was held, and prayer was made that some
miracle be given, to show who was the rightful king. When the service
was over, there appeared a strange stone in the churchyard, against the
high altar. It was a great white stone, like marble, with something
sunk in it that looked like a steel anvil; and in the anvil was driven
a great glistening sword. The sword had letters of gold written on it,
which read: “Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is
rightwise king born of all England.”
All wondered at the strange sword and its strange writing; and when the
archbishop himself came out and gave permission, many of the knights
tried to pull the sword from the stone, hoping to be king. But no one
could move it a hair’s breadth.
“He is not here,” said the archbishop, “that shall achieve the sword;
but doubt not, God will make him known.”
Then they set a guard of ten knights to keep the stone, and the
archbishop appointed a day when all should come together to try at the
stone,—kings from far and near. In the mean time, splendid jousts were
held, outside London, and both knights and commons were bidden.
Sir Ector came up to the jousts, with others, and with him rode Kay and
Arthur. Kay had been made a knight at Allhallowmas, and when he found
there was to be so fine a joust he wanted a sword, to join it. But he
had left his sword behind, where his father and he had slept the night
before. So he asked young Arthur to ride for it.
“I will well,” said Arthur, and rode back for it. But when he came to
the castle, the lady and all her household were at the jousting, and
there was none to let him in.
Arthur said to himself, “My brother Sir Kay shall not be without
a sword this day.” And he remembered the sword he had seen in the
churchyard. “I will ride to the churchyard,” he said, “and take that
sword with me.” He rode into the churchyard, tied his horse to the
stile, and went up to the stone. The guards were all away at the
tourney, and the sword was there alone.
Young Arthur went up to the stone, took the great sword by the handles,
and lightly and fiercely he drew it out of the anvil.
Then he rode straight to Sir Kay with it, and gave it to him.
Sir Kay knew instantly that it was the sword of the stone, and he rode
off at once to his father and said, “Sir, lo here is the sword of the
stone; I must be king of the land.” But Sir Ector asked him where he
got the sword. And when Sir Kay said, “From my brother,” he asked
Arthur how he got it. When Arthur told him, Sir Ector bowed his head
before him. “Now I understand ye must be king of this land,” he said to
Arthur. “Wherefore I?” said Arthur.
“For God will have it so,” said Ector; “never man should have drawn out
this sword but he that shall be rightwise king of this land. Now let me
see whether ye can put the sword as it was in the stone, and pull it
out again.”
Straightway Arthur put the sword back.
Then Sir Ector tried to pull it out, and after him Sir Kay; but neither
could stir it. Then Arthur pulled it out. Thereupon Sir Ector and Sir
Kay kneeled upon the ground before him.
“Alas,” said Arthur, “mine own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to
me?”
Sir Ector told him, then, all about his royal birth, and how he was
stolen away by Merlin. But when Arthur found Sir Ector was not truly
his father, he was so sad at heart that he cared not greatly to be
king. And he begged his father and brother to love him still. Sir Ector
asked that Sir Kay might be seneschal when Arthur was king. Arthur
promised with all his heart.
Then they went to the archbishop and told him that the sword had found
its master. The archbishop appointed a day for the trial to be made
in the sight of all men, and on that day the princes and knights came
together, and each tried to draw out the sword, as before. But as
before, none could so much as stir it.
Then came Arthur, and pulled it easily from its place.
The knights and kings were terribly angry that a boy from nowhere in
particular had beaten them, and they refused to acknowledge him king.
They appointed another day, for another great trial.
Three times they did this, and every time the same thing happened.
At last, at the feast of Pentecost, Arthur again pulled out the sword
before all the knights and the commons. And then the commons rose up
and cried that he should be king, and that they would slay any one who
denied him.
So Arthur became king of Britain, and all gave him allegiance.
LOCAL LEAGUE WORK
HOW ONE LEAGUE WAS FORMED
BY MISS MABEL COOPER
The Story Teller’s League, which has done so much towards reviving and
encouraging the almost forgotten art of story-telling in the city of
Memphis, owes its origin to Prof. Wharton S. Jones, one of the leading
educators of Tennessee.
Prof. Jones is assistant superintendent of the Memphis City Schools
and in November, 1907, he issued an invitation to his teachers to
meet him for the purpose of forming a Story Tellers’ League. About
forty teachers responded and the League was organized with Prof.
Jones as president; Mrs Fannie Landis, vice-president; Miss Mary
Herron, secretary, and an executive committee composed of Miss Mable
Solly, Mrs. L. B. Mitchell, Miss Florence Schloss and Miss Elizabeth
Shield. At this meeting it was decided that the membership should not
be limited to teachers in the city schools but to all interested in
telling or learning how to tell stories. The membership constantly
increased until at the close of the first year there were almost one
hundred members, among which were many teachers from both public and
private schools, Sunday schools, prominent club members and ministers.
At the second general meeting of the League the executive committee
had completed and ready for distribution a most attractive Year Book
showing an outline for the year’s work. To defray the cost of printing
these year books, each member was asked to purchase two of them at
twenty-five cents each. No other dues were asked except an earnest
co-operation and willingness to take part in the programs.
There is a special line of stories for study at each meeting and a
leader who assigns the numbers and conducts the meetings. The numbers
on the program consist of two or three short papers on the origin,
time, place and value of the particular line of stories discussed, then
two or three stories followed by a discussion. The meetings are held
Saturday morning two weeks apart.
One of the most pleasing incidents connected with last year’s meetings
was the visit of Dr. Richard T. Wyche, President of the National Story
Tellers’ League. Dr. Wyche was most encouraging in his remarks to us
and delighted us with several of his stories.
The Memphis League belongs to the National Story Tellers’ League, and
sent delegates to the Annual Convention held at Knoxville, Tenn., in
July 1908. Last year’s work was devoted principally to stories for
primary and intermediate grades. We will proceed along the same line
this year, giving more attention to stories suitable for higher grade
children.
The executive committee is, at present, working on the year book for
1908-9. On October 7, we held our first meeting.
The League is yet in its infancy, but it has gained a popularity most
remarkable for so young an organization. It is recognized as a very
powerful instrument for accomplishing good and its influence is felt
far beyond the city in which it thrives. Our year books have been
sent, by request, to many parts of the country and we are ready to
give what help we can, by way of suggestions, to aid others in forming
leagues. The power of story-telling is limitless. Story work stands
to the children for what books, poetry, drama, sermon and art are to
the adult. The child should be constantly in touch with the best in
Literature,—stories within his comprehension, stories that may be woven
into his experiences, that will arouse his emotions and lead him to a
spontaneous expression of his ideas.
To this end the Story Tellers’ League is seeking to develop splendid
story tellers of its grown-up members so that they may reach and help
the little child. Truly it has a noble ambition; for, as Philip Brooks
says, “He who helps a child helps humanity with a distinctness, with an
immediateness which no other help given to human creatures in any other
stage of their human life can possibly give again.”
REPORTS FROM LEAGUES IN SUMMER SCHOOLS
THE WOOSTER (OHIO) SCHOOL
Four summers ago the writer called a meeting in one of the rooms of
Taylor Hall—one of the University buildings used by the Summer School.
A tentative organization was formed and meetings held until permanent
organization was effected. The meetings were then held in the evening
on the campus in front of Kanke Hall or the Memorial Chapel. A
Kindergartner was also engaged by the management of the school to tell
stories for a day or two. Each summer since a similar arrangement has
been made and now a regular story-hour in the Model School is planned
for in addition to weekly meetings of the League. This meets on the
Library steps Saturday evenings at 6:30. Old familiar college and
folk songs are sung, then the story-teller or story-tellers tell their
stories, other songs follow and then all go home happier and better.
The story hour is an event here—several times within the past ten
summers five or six hundred listeners were seated in a circle round the
story-teller and we may safely predict that the League has a permanent
place in the Summer School program. Commercial reasons, if no other,
will compel it.
The attendance at the story hour is not confined to students in the
Summer School—many of the leading citizens and summer visitors make it
convenient to drop around at that time and join the magic circle. We
have been able to discover some splendid story-tellers each summer, and
the great myths and classics of the race have been splendidly told and
added much to the lives of many.
Kipling, Van Dyke, Dickens and other masters have been quoted and
several interesting, original stories and adaptations of translations
have been given. The type of story has been the very highest. Much
folk-lore study and legendary investigation has been the outcome of it
all. And if the writer had done nothing else during the four years he
was a member of the Faculty of Wooster Summer School than to organize
and keep alive the Story Tellers’ League, he would have no reason to be
ashamed.
It is now finally established on a high level, and will live as
long as the Summer School. It will serve as the inspiration to many
teachers to learn the fine art, thus placing within the reach of the
little children of the Republic the golden key to the world’s great
Literatures, and will give to teachers the secret of making children
feel at home when at school and keeping them in touch with the heart
strings of the future citizens of our country. So mote it be.
J. E. MCKEAN.
FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA
Among the pleasantest hours of the week at the University of Virginia
Summer School, last July, were the twilight story-telling hours on
the campus. Somehow there was the true Golden Age atmosphere, perhaps
enhanced by the beautiful old academic building and grounds; the
trees and the birds; the soft air and genial spirit of the South. At
any rate, men and women listened rapt to the “Once upon a time,” and
lost themselves in forgotten fairy tales, portions of the old epics,
folk-lore, personal anecdote, funny stories, and ghost stories. Of
course, there were good story-tellers present, among them being Mr.
Woodley of New Jersey, Miss Wiggins of North Carolina, Miss King of
Virginia, Mr. Ruediger of Washington, D. C., and Mr. Augsburg of
California. Best of all were the biblical and folk-lore stories by
Mr. Wyche, president of the Story Tellers’ League. It is Mr. Wyche’s
distinction to tell his stories with a simple Homeric directness
impossible to describe but which appeals alike to the child listener
and to the jaded professor of English.
Occasionally, when the spirit moved, old songs were sung out of the
hearts of those present,—Maryland, My Old Kentucky Home, Carry Me Back
to Old Virginia, Annie Laurie, Suwanee River. Then more stories, and,
finally, dispersal over the campus in singing, chatting groups.
A. S. B.
FROM EMPORIA, KANSAS
Meetings were held at Emporia, Kansas, in the State Normal Summer
School during the second week in July. Sometimes as many as six hundred
would gather on the Campus just at sunset, play games for a while and
then sit on the grass and steps of the main building that opened to
the glow of the west. Here for an hour or more stories and songs were
rendered. The stories were told largely by members of the faculty,
while the students interspersed the program with the popular national
airs and melodies. From this large audience, a small group have
organized themselves into a League.
FROM KNOXVILLE, TENNESSEE
At the Summer School of the South, the birthplace of the League, the
usual twilight meetings were held on Thursday and Sunday. The Summer
School at Knoxville had an unusually large attendance and a very full
schedule, with lectures every evening, yet the League always found time
for its meeting just after supper. On Sunday evening, there being no
exercises in the school, the twilight meetings were unusually large
and interesting. Programs of the great religious hymns and appropriate
stories from the Bible and other sources were given.
The young people came in such large numbers to these twilight meetings
that it was found necessary to organize them into a Junior League. They
were enthusiastic, met nearly every evening and told their stories and
sang their songs in a creative refreshing way.
The time set apart for the annual meeting of the National League, July
17 at ten A. M. in Jefferson Hall, was devoted to a memorial to Joel
Chandler Harris, who was a charter member of the League. The President
of the League called the meeting to order and introduced Supt. Claxton,
who presided and gave a brief talk.
The Georgia delegates, a hundred or more strong, sang “Massa’s in the
Cold, Cold Ground.” Mrs. Legg, of Georgia, recited an original poem
in memory of Harris. Dr. C. Alphonso Smith, Professor of English,
University of North Carolina, gave an address on Joel Chandler Harris
and his place in literature. Mr. R. T. Wyche told one of the Uncle
Remus stories written by Joel Chandler Harris. The attendance was about
two thousand.
BIG RAPIDS, MICHIGAN
A large and enthusiastic league was formed at Ferris’ Institute, Big
Rapids, Mich., July 1907, and held a number of meetings.
During the past summer the meetings have continued. A picture of the
League has reached us but no report.
R. T. W.
BOOK REVIEWS
TELLING BIBLE STORIES. _By Mrs. Louise Seymour Houghton; Scribners._
If, as we believe, the story is one of the best ways to reach and
nourish the child’s inner spiritual being, then we must go to the
greatest source of spiritual stories, the Bible. To those who have
been imbued with modern thought, science and education, and yet feel
the wonderful power and value of the Bible, hardly knowing how to meet
conditions as they exist, Mrs. Louise Seymour Houghton’s book, “Telling
Bible Stories,” will come as a welcome supply to a real need. She
points out how the literal accuracy takes care of itself, if the truth
underlying goes to the child’s heart. The book is for adults, leading
them to analyze the stories and get at the real meaning, and with that
knowledge to construct his own story to suit the needs of the child
from three years of age to the adult period. It recognizes the child’s
growing knowledge of history, science, geography, myth, fable, poetry,
etc., and yet points out, however valuable and interesting this is,
that the Bible has this illuminating difference, that it is saturated
with God consciousness.
PEARL CARPENTER.
HOW TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN. _By Sara Cone Bryant; Houghton,
Mifflin Co.,1905; pp. vii, 260. $1.00_
This book is intended primarily for the teachers of the kindergarten
and of the primary and intermediate grades. It opens with an
introduction on story telling in general, which is followed by chapters
successively on the purpose of story-telling in the school; selection
of stories to tell; adaptation of stories for telling; how to tell the
story; and some specific schoolroom uses. The second half of the book
is devoted to 32 selected stories arranged in three groups,—one for
the kindergarten and grade I, and one for grades II and III, and one
for grades IV and V. The book closes with a bibliography for the story
teller, which must prove to be a veritable gold mine for the teacher
and parent and is easily one of the most helpful chapters in the
book. As a sample of the good things the book contains, we reproduce
elsewhere in this number of the STORY HOUR one of the stories from the
third group entitled, “Arthur and the Sword.”
W. C. R.
THE CONSTITUTION AND BY-LAWS
OF THE
NATIONAL STORY TELLERS’ LEAGUE
ARTICLE I.
TITLE.
The official title of this association shall be “THE NATIONAL STORY
TELLERS’ LEAGUE.”
ARTICLE II.
OBJECT.
The objects of the association shall be:
1. To encourage the art of story-telling, and the use of classic and
folk-lore stories in schools and other educational centers.
2. To foster creative work in the arranging and rewriting of stories
from various classic and historic sources.
3. To serve as a medium of exchange of stories and experiences in the
use of the story.
4. To discover in the world’s literature, in history, and in life the
best stories for education, and to tell them with love and sympathy for
the children, and to bring together in story circles those who love
to hear and tell a good story, the kindergartners, teachers, church
workers, children’s librarians, and those whose hearts are afire with
this work, that they might impart its spirit to others.
ARTICLE III.
MEMBERSHIP.
Any person may become a member of the League by sending the name and
address with the annual fee to the Secretary and Treasurer of the
League, or to the Vice-President of his State; or by joining a local
league and paying to the proper officer the fee due the National League.
ARTICLE IV.
OFFICERS.