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A LITTLE nnvil MAIDEN. The grandmother is instructing 
child- in Bible stories which are shown on the tiles of the fireplace. 

Manual of Stories 

William Byron Forbush 

Author of 





Copyright, 1915 


There could be no good reason for adding another to 
the many good books upon story-telling, unless a new book 
should prove to have something that has not been said be- 
fore. This manual is distinctive in several ways. 

It is the most comprehensive book that has yet been 
written. It covers all the aspects of the subject: the value 
of stories; the kinds of stories children like at different 
ages ; devices for making stories effective ; picture-stories ; 
dramatized stories ; the relations of stories to play ; the use 
of stories in building character ; stories in the home, the 
school and the church ; professional story-telling, etc. 

Part II is devoted to the first detailed description yet 
printed of the remarkable system of bottle-doll story- 

The list of sources for stories is the most extensive 
yet compiled. 

The first classified list of stories for character-build- 
ing ever prepared is here. 

The fullest list of story-plays for children is given. 

Several helpful programs and special lists are fur- 
nished. The most unique of these is a set of a dozen lists 
of stories, especially prepared for the author by the best 
story-tellers in America, which in their own experience 
were most liked by children and were favorites of them- 

It is of special value that the book is written from the 
masculine standpoint. 

The volume is enriched by the thoughts of the earlier 
writers in this field, which are carefully acknowledged and 
gratefully used. 





I THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING Responsiveness of the 
Child; Physical Value; Educational Value; Emotional 
Value; Stories in Character-Building; How Stories 
Assist in the Development of Character; Social Helps; 
Moral Value; Limitations of Story-Telling; It Takes 
Both Work and Friendship to Make a Life; Why Tell 

Stories 3 

Myths; Fairy Stories; Epic Stories; Biography and 
Purposive Stories; Story-Telling Poems 17 


Appeal; Fairy Stories; Hero Tales; Differing Tastes of 
Boys and Girls; Story-Tastes Are Defined by Expe- 
rience; Funny Stories and Sad Stories 21 


Story; A Good Beginning; Action and Sense Appeal; 

Climax; Method; Results Are in the Future 28 

V STORY-TELLING DEVICES Getting the Attention; Direct 
Discourse; Details; Repetition; Retouching; One's Self 
and the Story; Leisure; Story-Telling with Chalk; 
Shall One Memorize? Spontaneity; The Child's Part 

in Story-Telling 39 

VI CONTINUED STORIES The Continued Story as a Drama; 

Serial Stories Classified by Ages 50 

VII PICTURE STORY-TELLING Picture-Interests of Children; 
Suggestions for Picture Study; Studying Pictures 
through the Story; Choice of Pictures for Children; 
Methods of Story-Telling through Pictures; Two Pic- 
ture Stories: "Boy and Rabbit" "The Age of Inno- 
cence"; Permanent Value of Pictures; Moral Educa- 
tion through Picture Stories; A List of Story Pictures 55 
Story-Playing on Sunday; A List of Stories and Play- 
things 74 



IX DRAMATIZING STORIES Dramatizing Stories in School; 
Stories that Are Easily Acted; The Puppet Theater; 
Children's Dramatics 8 1 

STORIES How to Grade Such Stories; Stories with a 
Sense Appeal: "Monday" "The Wee Hare and the 
Red Fire" Fairy Stories: "The Fairy Who Came to 
Our House" "Little Blue Gown and the Butterfly" ; 
Myths and Legends: "The Knight with the Ill-Fitting 
Coat"; Parables and Allegories: "The Magic Shirt" 
"The Closing Door" 87 

RIES Realistic Stories and Biography: "Jimmy and 
the Sharper" Plutarch's Stories; One of Lincoln's 
Stories; Suggestions as to Telling Moral Stories ... in 

XII How TO TELL BIBLE STORIES Why the Bible Is the 
Best Story Book; The Manner of Bible Story-Telling; 
The Method of Bible Story-Telling; Method of Sub- 
traction; Changing the Order of Incidents; Methods 
of Reality; Bringing the Bible People into Pres- 
ent Day Life; Selection of Bible Stories 122 

XIII STORIES AND SCHOOL The Story as a Help to Attention ; 

The Story as a Help to Interest; The Story as a Help 
to Thinking and Expression; The Story as a Help to 
Literature; The Story as a Help to Writing and His- 
tory; The Story as a Help to Nature Study; The Story 
as a Social Unifier; The Story as a Help to Morals . . 135 

XIV STORIES IN THE HOME The Comfort and Contentment 

of Stories; The Companionship of Stories; Imagi- 
nativeness of Stories; The Story Helps More at Home 
Than in School; The Story and Home Reading; The 
Story and Home Handicraft; The Story and Home 
Discipline; The Naturalness of Home Story-Telling; 

Stories at Bed-Time 143 

ries; The Story-Hour on the Playground; The Story- 
Hour in the Club for Street Boys; Suggestions for the A 
Story-Hour; The Program in the Story-Hour; The ' 
Story-Tellers' League; The Story-Class 152 




Are; The Advantages of Bottles; The Relation to 
Handicraft ; A New Way of Developing the Imagination 1 75 

XVII THE BOTTLE CHARACTERS The Kingdom of Love; the 
Kingdom of Law; The People Who Live in the En- 
chanted Land; Changing Names Does not Change 
Characters 179 

XVIII THE ENCHANTED LAND How the Characters Move 
About; Uses for the Sand Table; Allegory of the 
Enchanted Land 184 

Suggestion for the Story -Teller; How the Story-Teller 
Begins; Introducing the People "Frank Enters the 
Enchanted Land" 189 

XX MARY LOWE'S PHILOSOPHY The Importance of the 
Education of the Heart; The Naturalness of Moral 
Reflection to Children; Childhood's Need of a Mimic 
World to Practice In; The Meaning of this Mimic 
World; Significance of Some of the Characters; "The 
Brew" ; "The Potion and the Lovely Lady " ; The Influ- 
ence of the Plan in Will-Training 199 

Visited the Enchanted Land"; "The Fox and the 
Farmer" ; Some Other Stories 212 








Children Originative; A Story Told by a Child of 
Nine; A Story Told by a Seven- Year-Old ; Some of 
Mary Lowe's Experiences; Harry's Story; Mary 
Lowe's Story; Some Moral Results from Bottle-Doll 
Story-Telling 233 




I A List of Stories that Children Like, Selected by the 

Best Story-Tellers 245 

To Accompany Chapter III 

II A List of Books on Story-Telling 252 

To Accompany Chapter IV 

III A List of Books Containing Picture-Stories or Descrip- 

tions 253 

To Accompany Chapter VII 

IV A List of Books on Dramatics and of Story-Plays for 

Children 257 

To Accompany Chapter IX 

V A List of Character-Building Stories 263 

To Accompany Chapter X 

VI A List of Bible Stories and of Bible Story-Books . . 278 
To Accompany Chapter XII 

VII A List of Story-Books Connected with School Subjects. 284 
To Accompany Chapter XIII 

VIII A Season's Program of Stories 288 

To Accompany Chapter XV 

IX A Program of Bottle-Doll Stories 291 

To Accompany Chapter XXI 

X A General List of Story-Books 293 


With many Story Devices 



"Here are Hesperides more fair, 
Here lovelier vales than Avalon." 

Thomas Walsh. 

Of late we have come to take story- telling seriously. It 
is one of the oldest of arts and one of the most valuable. 
It is everywhere and in all ages an art that is favored and 
enjoyed by children. All over the world and in all races, 
listening to stories has been one of childhood's choicest 
occupations, and the telling of stories has been one of child- 
hood's earliest crafts. It has always been to children one 
of the most effective doorways unto life and knowledge. 

So natural is the story to children that it has made 
them masters in fields wherein the knowledge obtained by 
adults with painstaking reading and study cannot surpass 
them. "The boy Coleridge," says Stephani Schiitze, "sitting 
in his father's library, watching, half fearfully, the advanc- 
ing sunlight, till it should touch the back of the 'Arabian 
Nights/ when he would dare at last to take the enchanted 
volume from the shelf and read, probably had a greater 
appreciation of the immortal book, bountiful and wanton as 
the outpourings of nature, natural and humorous as unper- 
verted mankind, and as beautiful as the courts of dream- 
land, than unimaginative men with all their stores of knowl- 



This is true because the child gives, during the telling, 
all the intensity of his attention, which is inimitable. In 
two realms, play and stories, a child becomes completely 
immersed in the present. Charles Murray, in his charming 
verse, "The Whistle," pictures a little Scotch dreamer set 
to watch the cattle, who attained such self -absorption, in 
his boy playcraft. 

"He cut a sappy sucker from the muckle rodden tree, 
He trimmed it, an' he wet it, an' he thumped it on his knee; 
He never heard the teuchat when the harrow broke her eggs, 
He missed the craggit herons nabbin' puddocks in the seggs, 
He forgot to hound the collie at the cattle when they strayed, 
But you should have seen the whistle that the wee herd made !" 

A like absorption goes with the story, and this absorp- 
tion is all the more potent because it is an absorption in 
joy. The lesson which the Greeks teach us is the art of 
making education joyous. Instead of regarding with aver- 
sion the different subjects which they had studied in school, 
the Greeks loved them and practiced and improved them- 
selves in them joyously throughout their lives. The story 
is such a subject, and its place in the school as well as in 
the home is one of dignified and valuable educational import. 


Story-telling has its physical value. At the end of the 
day in the home or in the midst of confusion in the school, 
it charms the mind, rests the perturbed spirit and even helps 
prepare the body either for sleep or for renewed activity. 


The story is of educational value. It is the very lan- 
guage of childhood. It is childhood's most characteristic 


form of expression and our most direct and successful 
means of conveying to it our ideas. It is the most con- 
crete method of teaching. Stories are pictures of life 
moving pictures, talking pictures, colored pictures. Their 
meaning lies on the surface. They reveal every phase and 
principle of life. The story, not less than the drama, holds 
a mirror up to nature. 

The story reveals life broadly. Most of us, as a skilled 
story-teller has remarked, live only one kind of life, and 
have but little opportunity to come into contact with lives 
spent under totally different surroundings. 'Tut yourself 
in his place" has been said to be the most needed attitude 
in the world to-day. The reason why the child is in- 
capable of putting himself in the place of others is because 
he has not had a wide experience with personal suffer- 
ing, privation and adventure. Real experiences of such 
sorts can come to him only gradually, some of them not 
until maturity. Vicarious experience in the lives of others 
may be offered him through stories. There is no more 
potent method of broadening social imagination and thus 
developing the spirit of generosity than through stories of 
other races and of other lands. 

Stories reveal not only the natural world but they 
interpret the world of fancy. We are coming to recognize 
the important value of imagination in education. The 
imaginative man is the joyous man, and, as we have been 
saying, the joyous man is the strong man. Says Seumas 
McManus, the famous Irish story-teller, "Story-telling will 
make the child father to a more kindhearted, a more en- 
thusiastic, a more idealistic man than the one taught to scorn 
story-telling. The story-telling nations of the world are 
the cheerful, social, enthusiastic, idealistic nations, and this 
because story-telling to the child brings out all the better 
qualities, sympathy, imagination, warm-heartedness, so- 

A story is of great value in training the memory. 
We find this when we hear young children demanding 


the repetition of familiar phrases or expressions. Later 
they like to hear stories retold, even if the element 
of repetition is not present. It has been noted that the 
child who has been accustomed all his life to hearing good 
stories well told has a larger vocabulary and a wider range 
of intelligence and recollection than the child whose story- 
telling has been neglected. 


The story as an emotional influence either stimulates 
or satisfies the feelings. It awakens and educates real and 
natural feelings, or it may satisfy feelings which are already 
familiar. An instance of the education of feelings would 
be a story in which a story-teller endeavored to excite sym- 
pathy toward living creatures. An instance of satisfying 
feeling would be a story in which a sympathy which he 
knew to be already present was fully expressed by him- 
self. Some years ago, Rufus Stanley, now director of 
the Omega Club for boys in Elmira, New York, was asked 
by Mr. Z. T. Brockway, then superintendent of the Elmira 
reformatory, to take charge for a few Sundays of a group 
of about 300 young men and older boys in the institution 
who were somewhat defective mentally. The problem 
of addressing them successfully was naturally a very diffi- 
cult one. Mr. Stanley decided to tell them a story. In 
order to do this effectively, it was necessary that he should 
secure a live wild bird. Being himself in charge of the 
grounds, he had opportunity to secure the co-operation of 
a large force of inmates, but it seemed as if birds never 
were so scarce upon the grounds as they were on that par- 
ticular afternoon when he wanted one. About an hour 
before the talk was to be given, a boy from the city brought 
him a little blackbird which had flown through an open 
window into his mother's kitchen. Attaching the little bird 
to his hand, Mr. Stanley brought it into the hall where the 


young fellows were gathered. He attracted their attention 
by holding it in plain view, and then he told them its story. 
He pictured its migration to the north in summer and im- 
agined its numerous adventures, the perils in its flight, its 
home-making and its return. He made the suggestion that 
the little bright bird would be an attractive companion for 
them in a cage. He brought his story to a close with this 
question: "Shall we keep the little bird or shall we let it 
go free?" With one hoarse shout, the company responded 
with the one word, "Free !" Mr. Stanley smiled and, re- 
leasing the bird, it flew out through a window which he 
had cleverly left open for the purpose, into the sunlight. 
By means of this story, Mr. Stanley had both educated 
their feelings and satisfied them. He recognized their love 
for wild life and he expressed their own native desire for 


In answer to the query, Does story-telling help in build- 
ing character ? the one obvious answer is, Men have always 
thought so. I believe it is Partridge who says that the very 
origin of story-telling was in the instinct to teach. It is an 
interesting fact that the method of the story is still very 
generally used among primitive peoples in the training of 
their children. Spencer, in his book "The Education of the 
Pueblo Child," tell us that Pueblo children do not receive 
commands to do or to refrain from doing without a reason 
for the command being given. "This reason is given in the 
form of a story in which a given action is portrayed with 
the good or evil resulting to the doer. These legends, or 
folk-tales, are very numerous, so that one may be found 
illustrating almost any case that may arise." He also says 
that the Pueblos take story-telling as a form of training so 
seriously that they often select impressive times and meth- 
ods by which to lend force to these lessons. "In the eve- 


ning, when the fire burns low and the room is dimly lighted, 
is a favorite time for the repeating of those tales, and the 
solemn, hushed tones in which they are told, together with 
the striking postures accompanying them, give them a 
weirdly dramatic effect." His testimony is that the method 
is most effective. "They exercise a profound influence 
upon the children, and the moral laws they prescribe are 
seldom transgressed." 

"The assertion that it is impossible to teach morals, 
except by example or implication," says Professor Howard 
Moore, "is an assertion that has been made by somebody 
in the past and has been passed around ever since without 
ever having been challenged or investigated, like a great 
many of our other so-called truths. Kindness, honesty, 
humanity, truthfulness, and moral courage can be taught to 
young minds just as easily and effectively as Latin or arith- 
metic. All that is necessary is to begin early enough, use 
ingenuity, and keep at it. It is not possible to teach morality 
to all with complete success. There are also boys and girls 
who cannot learn geometry to save their lives. Yet we go 
on teaching it for 200 hours every year, even though our 
teaching often lands in stony places. As a general rule, 
anything can be taught to the young mind. A child is a tin- 
pail sitting out under the drip. It catches everything that 
comes along. The power to choose, the power to accept 
some things and reject others, is acquired later in life, if at 
all. We have never tried to teach morals and humanity. 
We have been content to preach them, which is a very dif- 
ferent thing from teaching them. Everything else that has 
ever been done or thought of, in the heavens above or in the 
earth beneath, has been taught, and with the most brilliant 
and appealing success. And with the same science and per- 
sistence we can teach those truths and ways of acting 
which are the very vitals of order and civilization." 



It has been customary tp consider that the mental life 
of man has three phases, thinking, feeling and willing. 
Story-telling makes each of these factors of the child mind 

The story is helpful, in the first place, because it helps 
the child to know what is good. It encourages moral 
thoughtfulness. Children are not born with a knowledge 
of the Ten Commandments, and even if they were, this 
"knowledge" would not be especially effective. Everything 
the child really knows, he knows in terms of life. Truth, 
to him, must always be concrete. To the child, "Every 
boy's a fairy prince and every tale is true." The value of 
dragons is that they make evil concrete and horrible and 
the value of fairies is that they make goodness concrete and 
beautiful. Fairy godmothers are ministers of justice, and 
through the moral contests in the children's stories which 
he hears the child visualizes his own struggles. 

"There the sword Excalibur is thrust into the dragon's throat ; 

Evil there is evil, black is black and white is white; 
There the child triumphant hurls the villain spluttering in the moat ; 

There the captive princess only waits the peerless knight." 

Many a moral victory, like many a victory upon the 
battlefield, is won or lost before the actual struggle has 
begun. The battle is decided in the preliminary skirmish 
of contending mental images. If the child is stocked up 
with virtuous and inspiring mental images, through stories, 
his imagination already is captured by goodness. 

Stories not only help the child to know what is good, 
but they help him to want to know what is good. The child 
himself is morally alert, but stories make him even more 
alert. They help him, as Prof. Frank C. Sharp has said, 
to "try to develop the habit of asking and the power of 


answering the question, What is the right course of action?" 
As he brightly says, "They reduce the amount of moral 

The story is helpful, in the second place, because it 
helps the child to feel what is good. The child is by nature 
prepared to feel strongly in response to stories. The child 
is essentially sympathetic. Innately, he seems to hate 
a task and to love a story. As Partridge says, "the Sleep- 
ing Beauty awakes, the Prince comes, the Fairy God- 
mother prevails over the witch, at the earnest and urgent 
demand of the heart of the child." And then he puts in 
italics the following statement: "To make the child feel 
intensely the strivings of others, and to make him feel the 
light and shades of feeling in many a live situation is to 
give him an opportunity for moral training and an exhorta- 
tion to be good." When the story is told in such a way 
that goodness triumphs and the child wishes goodness to 
triumph, he is receiving a vivid experience of the value of 
goodness. He believes that life and goodness are worth 
while. Just as it is true, as Charles Eliot Norton used to 
say, that "A book is dangerous if it makes life seem unin- 
teresting," so a story is dangerous if it makes life seem 
less worth while. On the contrary, if a story to a child adds 
to his valuation of goodness in life, it has manifestly en- 
riched his experience. When we do this, we do not appeal 
merely to the child's sensitive feelings, but also to some- 
thing deeper in his nature. We touch his most deeply 
rooted admirations, his love of fair play, his love of loyalty, 
the unselfish impulses of his nature, and when we recognize 
and bring these to the surface, we are like the skilled 
musician who opens an instrument and touches to beautiful 
harmony strings that are already in tune. We are doing the 
very important thing of educating the child's desires. 

The very mood in which a child listens to stories is 
helpful to our end. A good story makes the child happy ; 
and joy is strength. A tale which has touched his better 
feelings and given him a vicarious experience of being good 


himself sends him out with greater courage actually to do 
good. Even the sweet sadness of the pathetic tale, if it 
be not mawkish in its sentimentality, strengthens rather 
than subdues the spirit. Brushing away the happy tears 
that come in response to a tale of injured virtue or of 
dramatic self-sacrifice, the child turns back to life invigor- 
ated and cheered. 

It is still true, as the old Hebrew sage told us, that "out 
of the heart are the issues of life." It is really the heart 
rather than the intellect that must be convinced if the hu- 
man being is to be changed. It is not only much more en- 
couraging, but it is much more effective to be able, through 
a story, to persuade a child that such and such things have 
been done rather than through command to tell him that 
such and such things should be done. 

The story is helpful, in the third place, because it helps 
the child to will what is good. No child listens to a story 
passively. He instantly personalizes himself as the hero 
of the tale to which he is listening. In imagination, what 
the hero does he does. Thus he really reacts to a moral 
situation. This means that he is unconsciously taking sides, 
choosing. If this be true in a single story, how much more 
effectively is it true when the child has been in the habit 
of listening to many inspiring stories. If it is a fact, as 
psychologists tell us, that the mind works through grooves 
of ideas furnished, and that, while it still has a certain free- 
dom in choosing a lot of new grooves and in leaving out a 
lot of old things, it chiefly runs along the rails of the ideas 
which have already been laid down, then it is apparent that 
to furnish the child a series of good stories is building a 
road-way along which the will, as it develops, may most 
easily run. So the battlefield of life may be used, through 
stories, to show the child how to summon to his assistance 
allies which will assist him in sweeping opposition from his 
path. When he listens to such stories he signals his allies 
to his side. 



The influence of story-telling upon the will is not only 
in what the story incites the child to do, but in the relation 
between the story-teller herself and the child. Miss Sara 
Cone Bryant gives a very pretty little incident of her suc- 
cessful endeavor by means of stories to win the confidence 
and affections of a shy young niece. The evening effort did 
not seem to succeed, but it was different in the morning, 
after she had assisted at the little girl's toilet, with some 
more stories. "When the curls were all curled and the last 
little button buttoned, my baby niece climbed hastily down 
from her chair, and deliberately up in my lap. With a 
caress rare to her habit, she spoke my name, slowly and 
tentatively, 'An-ty Sai-ry ?' Then, in an assured tone, ' Anty 
Sairy, I love you so much I don't know what to do !' And 
presently, tucking a confiding hand in mine to lead me to 
breakfast, she exclaimed sweetly, 'I didn' know you when 
you corned las' night, but now I know you all th' time !' ' 
The child, through the story, is brought sympathetically 
near, not only to the virtue of which the story tells, but to 
the story-teller herself. In discipline, a story is better than 
scolding and clearer than a command. The personality of 
the story-teller, not only kindly and good, but also strong and 
wise, remains after the story is over to co-operate and thus 
to help strengthen the will to make an effort toward virtu- 
ous activities. 

William T. Hornaday gives a beautiful reminiscence in 
his "American Natural History" of this combined influence 
of motherly teaching and fellowship upon conduct in later 

'To me the mourning-dove has always seemed a sacred 
bird," says he, "and although I could have killed thousands 
of them, I have never taken the life of one. When a very 
small boy at my mother's knee she related to me the story 
of the winged messenger sent out by Noah to look for real 


estate. She told me that doves were innocent and harmless 
birds, and that I must never wrong one in the least. Had 
my good mother issued an injunction covering the whole 
animal kingdom, I think I would have grown up as harm- 
less to animals as any Hindoo; for her solemn charge 
regarding mourning-doves has always seemed as binding 
as the Ten Commandments. I mention this in order to point 
out to parents and teachers the vast influence they may 
easily wield in behalf of our wild creatures, which are in 
sore need of protection." 


There is no such thing as virtue per se. Character is 
altogether a matter of a human being's relation to society. 
What we are trying to develop is not abstract qualities of 
will t)Ut real and living relationships. If we are not careful 
we shall be doing what so many have done in the past, 
teaching the "virtues" instead of bringing the children 
face to face with concrete duties. "Let us," insists Prof. 
George A. Coe, "stop studying the Virtues' and study in- 
stead what men do and why they do it." J. Lewis Paton, 
a successful English schoolmaster, criticizes the method of 
moral instruction which has been made famous by F. J. 
Gould of the British Moral Education League. "He tells 
the story of the taming of Bucephalus, and draws out most 
skilfully the appropriate moral: the pill with Mr. Gould 
tastes almost as nice as the jam. But suppose you brought 
me a boy lacking in self-control and asked me how he was 
to learn self-control I should not dream of suggesting Mr. 
Gould's book. I should say: Let him play football with 
the other boys, and see that he plays hard. When he has, 
with the ball in his hands, broken through the opposing 
lines, receiving in the process a whack on the head and a 
kick on the shins, and then, triumphantly crossing the line, 
and touching down the ball between the enemy's goal posts, 


is recalled by the referee's whistle and his try is disallowed, 
because the referee had thought he had run on to the touch- 
line that not being the case then, I say, if the boy bears 
all that without mentioning any towns in Holland, but 
smiles genially at the referee and the full-back who hacked 
him, and starts off again to play up and play the game as 
hard as ever then, I say, however ignorant that boy may 
be of Bucephalus, he has learned in practice the lesson of 
self-control; and I don't myself see how he could learn it 


Stories cannot take the place of life. Recognize this 
clearly and remember this lesson that no story is of value 
that does not relate the child directly to life, and we shall 
continue to endeavor to tell stories skilfully and also en- 
deavor to help children to live actively. "Let us agree at 
once," Mrs. Ella Lyman Cabot concedes, "that stories are 
not substitutes for right-doing, but only one among the rein- 
forcements of right-doing. Character grows mainly in two 
ways : through work well done, and through the contagious 
example of people whom we love and admire. These two 
influences, work and friendship, will always be the greatest 
spurs to right-doing. Yet I believe that ethical teaching 
can supplement them and can help to bring out their mean- 
ing. A lover of birds haunts their favorite woods and 
meadows ; but does he not also find it wise now and again 
to enter a natural-history museum where, ranged in rows, 
a little stiffly, are all his woodland friends? There he can 
study thoroughly and quietly their characteristics ; there he 
can compare one with another, noticing the variations in 
color and distinguishing members of the same species. 
When he goes back to the fields, it will be with keener eyes. 
Ethical lessons may well bring this help. They will help 


us to see quietly, before temptation arises, what is the right 
act. Many acts of dishonesty, discourtesy, cruelty, and 
self-deceit are due primarily to lack of clear thought and 
quickened imagination. I believe that ethical teaching at 
its best is a quickening spirit, a call to the soul, a life creat- 
ing life. Among the greatest citizens of my state, I number 
one who from boyhood has saturated himself with all that 
he can learn of Abraham Lincoln. That life is no biography 
to him, nor is it a good example. It is a voice calling. He 
has answered it. Every year he is finding new ways of 
responding to it. I cannot conceive his life without that of 
Lincoln his master, whom he never saw. If by any lessons 
about the leaders of men, we can give a single child such 
a sense of the presence of Lincoln as my friend bears about 
with him, years of toil will not be too much." 


But why tell rather than read stories? Seumas Mc- 
Manus answers: ''Story-telling is superior to the written 
story chiefly because the man who writes is not in touch 
with the audience. The story-teller talks to you, and has to 
make a story from beginning to end, and every sentence has 
to be a part of the story, because he is within range of a 
brickbat and subject to the recall at any minute." 

And why tell children stories rather than encourage 
them to read them themselves ? Of course we do both, but 
Mr. McManus answers again : "I think story-telling is to 
story-reading what the eating of a meal is to reading the 
bill-of-fare. The story-reading nations of the world are 
the morose nations, because the reader's a selfish man who 
goes away into a corner with his book, becomes oblivious 
to the world around him, and gives back to the world 
nothing. Talk about land hogs, car hogs, end-seat hogs I 
think the worst of them all is the book hog." 

By means of the story, the story-teller adds to the in- 


tellectual value of the tale the power of his own person- 
ality. Of this we shall speak further in our suggestions 
concerning methods of story-telling. Beyond this advantage 
is the added charm of the personal element which forms 
a kind of halo to the story. When you make a story your 
own and tell it, the listener gets the story plus your appre- 
ciation of it. It comes to him filtered through your own 

If one were asked how late in life stories seem to 
charm, his answer might well be the same that he would 
give if he were asked when old men cease to love. Grown- 
ups seem to share, when they hear a story well told, the 
feeling expressed once to the writer so sweetly by a Quaker 
maiden of fourteen when he was apologizing to her for 
assuming to interest her in a story that he had just told, 
since it was only for children. She replied : "I am always 
a child when thee is speaking." 



"World-old and beautiful stories, 
Which I once, when little, 
From the neighbors' children have heard 
When we, on summer evenings, 
Sat on the steps before the house-door, 
Bending us down to the quiet narrative 
With little listening hearts." Heinrich Heine. 

Story-telling is an art of such dignity that it has a his- 
tory. Among each people a certain kind of story arises 
at a certain stage of development and then at a later stage 
is succeeded by another kind of story. 


First comes the primitive story. It is chiefly a story 
of the forest and of the animal world. It represents, so 
Partridge thinks, the effort of early peoples, struggling with 
their yet unmastered circumstances, to obtain some satis- 
faction from their unyielding world. In the story, giants 
are not wholly unconquerable. "The good fairy grants the 
wish that nature denies." "The stories tell about the things 
of nature; but beneath it all he is telling the story of his 
own desires, hopes, fears and disappointments. In his story 
it is he himself who is contending with and defeating the 
giant ; who meets the god face to face ; who wins the super- 
natural bride. ... It keeps him hopeful amid dangers and 
the certainty of death and disaster." Also the primitive 


story seems to hark back to the time when man felt a closer 
kinship with the animals, and perhaps traced his descent 
from them. We see these two ideas, kinship with the ani- 
mals and satisfaction in personal conquest, in the Uncle 
Remus tales, which are really primitive African stories in 
which the negro race identifies itself with merry, shrewd 
and ever triumphant Br'er Rabbit. 


After the primitive stories come the myths. The myth 
differs from the primitive story in containing more philoso- 
phy. It is the primitive story adultized. Sometimes it has 
been perpetuated into a civilized age and made sophisti- 
cated, or polished into a parable, or filled full of adult 
experience. For these reasons Partridge thinks the Greek 
myths are too symbolic, too sexual, too subtle, less suitable 
for the child than the Norse, which were cut off while 
still nearer the nature stage. 


Following myths are fairy stories. The fairy story is 
what happens to a myth when people have ceased to believe 
it. It is just this mood of half belief or pure fancy which 
causes it to appeal to a child. The nature element is still 
there, the feeling if not the faith is preserved and the play- 
ful treatment brings it where the child can apprehend it. 
For a time the child himself believes it. It has for him 
some religious significance. As Partridge says, "It keeps 
the supernatural alive and real to the child, shows the 
world full of friendliness and exalts the good-will prin- 


Next come the epic stories. The myths have gathered 
about heroes, who often absorb into their mighty personali- 


ties the adventures of many brave men and the qualities 
admired of all men. What once was attributed of glory 
to the sun or to spiritual powers is now granted to man- 
kind. "It is the story of man becoming self-conscious." 
Without realizing it fully, the bard finds within himself 
that which he awards to his hero. 


By this time literature has appeared, and the epic story 
takes the more careful and literal forms of biography and 
history. The story-teller speaks now not solely for the joy 
of creating but with the desire to improve others, espe- 
cially children, and we have the purposive story, such as 
the fable and parable, both usually amplifications of old 
animal or folk-tales. Finally, we come to the portrayal of 
real and modern life in the realistic story, in the forms of 
romantic and photographic fiction. 


We did not mention among the literary forms that 
may be used in story-telling, poetry. For story-reading 
poetry is excellent, since the great myths and legends and 
hero-tales have been sung in verse with the music of ring- 
ing words and the accompaniment of tramping melodies. 

"Bright is the ring of words 

When the right man rings them; 
Sweet is the fall of songs 
When the singer sings them." 

But for story-telling, except to those who memorize 
readily, poetry is a limitation, because the teller is neces- 
sarily restricted to the words and metres of the original 
and can find scope for no imaginativeness or originality 


of his own. As the story-teller is himself a bard rather 
than a reciter, he is usually freer, except for an occasional 
apt quotation, if he sticks to rhythmic prose. 

Persons who have good verbal memories are to be 
congratulated as having the capacity to give children stories 
beautified by melody and rhyme. "I have seen a child of 
three thrilled almost to ecstasy," is the testimony of Louise 
Seymour Houghton, "by The Splendor Falls on Castle 
Walls/ and even by 'Lady Clara Vere de Vere.' I am at a 
loss for words to estimate what I consider the moral and 
spiritual value of thus awakening and keeping alive the 
faculty of intense joy. It is by means such as this that we 
make our children grow up whole and all round characters, 
able to appreciate the value of a 'wholesome artistic life/ 
as Professor Henderson puts it, referring at the same time 
to Milton's fine phrase, 'simple, sensuous, passionate.' " 

These constitute the story-teller's treasury, and as we 
shall see in the next chapter, each has its place in its own 
period in a child's life. 



"That beautiful interest in wild tales which made the child a 
man, while all the time he suspected himself to be no bigger than a 
child." Stepkani Schutze. 

Children in a general way follow in their story tastes 
the evolution of stories. 


They first like stories with sense appeal. They like 
jingles because they gratify the sense for rhythm. They 
like finger plays because they gratify the sense of touch 
and the muscular sense. They like action plays because 
they gratify the sense of locomotion. The mention of color, 
sound, food and drink in a story brings back pleasant recol- 
lections, stimulates the imagination and arouses sense asso- 
ciations which it is especially desirable to stimulate in a 
dormant child. The Mother Goose rhymes are not only 
easily remembered, but the people in them, Bo Peep, Little 
Boy Blue, Mother Hubbard and the rest, who pass through 
familiar sense experiences and who are made individual 
and real usually in books by bright illustrations, satisfy 
that foreshadowing human interest which is in later years 
to become the most potent attraction of any story. 


Soon after the imagination becomes really active, say 
by five or six, when the child is mature enough to throw 



himself into a fanciful situation, he is ready for fairy 
stories. Through fairy stories he may have access to the 
primitive story, full of nature and animal interest and shorn 
of part of its horror, because as Andrew Lang says, "You 
will not be afraid of magicians and dragons" since "a really 
brave child was always their master." We may learn some- 
thing as to the enjoyable element in fairy stories from 
certain facts of child nature. For instance, one of the well- 
known characteristics of the child is his feeling of kinship 
with the plant and animal world. You will hear a child in 
the garden talking lovingly to the flowers, chasing the butter- 
flies as if they were comrades, and thinking of the animals 
as if they were almost human. This identification of man 
with plant and animal life is one of the most familiar char- 
acteristics of the fairy story and the fable. Such nature- 
sympathy is particularly common in the German folk tales. 
"They are pervaded," says Felix Adler, "by the poetry 
of forest life, are full of the sense of mystery and awe, 
which is apt to overcome one on penetrating deeper and 
deeper into the woods, away from human habitations. They 
deal with the underground life of nature, which weaves in 
caverns and in the heart of mountains, where gnomes and 
dwarfs are at work gathering hidden treasures. And with 
this underground life children have a marvelous sympathy. 
They present glowing pictures of sheltered firesides, where 
man finds rest and security from howling winds and nipping 
cold. But perhaps their chief attraction is due to their 
representing the child as living in brotherly fellowship with 
nature and all creatures. Trees, flowers, animals, wild and 
tame, even the stars, are represented as the comrades of 
children. That animals are only human beings in disguise 
is an axiom in fairy tales. Animals are humanized i. e., 
the kinship between animal and human life is still strongly 
felt. Plants, too, are often represented as incarnations of 
human spirits. Thus the twelve lilies are inhabited by the 
twelve brothers, and in the story of Snow White and Rose 
Red the life of the two maidens appears to be bound up 


with the life of the white and red rosebush. The kinship 
of all life whatsoever is still realized." 

Another characteristic of childhood is its love for mas- 
querading. This liking is satisfied in stories in which the 
leading character is in disguise. The prince masquerades 
as a toad ; the fairy godmother as a decrepit old lady ; the 
heroine is dressed in rags, etc. Any "transformation 
scene" in the solution of the mystery of a story is analogous 
to the unmasking which children enjoy so much in their 
masquerading play. The moral appeal of such stories, well 
told, is that they are rehearsals of what the child is or would 
like to be. Therefore he enters the situation of the story 
with sympathy, and feels as its hero feels. 

There seems to be reason to suppose that children like 
fairy stories told in the old-fashioned way, such as was 
commended a few years ago by a writer in Blackwood's, 
who defines their style as that of the first quarter of the 
nineteenth century, a little stilted and filled with such ex- 
clamations as, "Vastly well, madam." 

A fable is a sort of desiccated animal story, and is not 
the most successful kind of an imaginative story because it 
is so short and contains so little plot and does not appeal 
strongly to the fancy. It should be placed with fairy stories. 
Parables and allegories, which appeal so strongly to the 
adult liking for solving puzzles, are not usually so effective 
with children, whose imagination tends to dwell upon the 
literal details rather than to pass on to the deeper meaning. 
They would be indicated, with the realistic stories, from 
about the tenth year on. 


By the seventh year, as Richard T. Wyche points out, 
the child "discovers that the cow did not jump over the 
moon, as the Mother Goose rhyme had it, and that Santa 
Claus is not as he thought at first." But for a time he en- 


joys hero-tales. Perhaps they are wonder-tales, but they 
are not wonder-tales to him, for in every one of those 
mythical or epical tales "he imagines himself," as Miss 
Cowles says, "the hero of such wonderful and impossible 
adventures that when he is told of Phaeton and his mad 
ride, he accepts it with the same calm appreciation which 
is accorded the imaginings of his own creative moods. The 
slaying of the Gorgon is fully in harmony with his own 
future plans." 

By the later years of childhood, say from ten to twelve, 
when imagination has become more sober, there is an 
increasing demand for stories of actual heroes, of real 
men and women, and of boys and girls of his own age. 
The hero is the actual successor of the giant of the wonder- 
tale. He satisfies the imagination which still pleads for 
achievement but which is now irritated by the impossible. 

"Ay, let us tell the generous tale 

Of giants real and bold, 
Who grew so great they would not stoop 
To gather fame and gold; 

"But hurled the mountains from our path, 

And drained our quagmires dry, 
And held our foes at bay the while 
They bore our weaklings by." 


The tastes of boys and girls begin to differentiate just 
before adolescence ; they have been summarized by Frances 
J. Olcott as follows : 

"As a boy's practical interest evolves, he being objec- 
tive by nature, prefers stories of athletics, of daring adven- 
tures, thrilling dangers and escapes, also of gregarious life, 
such as the experiences of gangs, pirates and robber-bands, 
and members of secret societies and clubs. He enjoys his- 



tory, biography and books that show him how to make 
and do things. 

"A girl, with intense subjectivity, reads by preference 
stones of play, home, and school life; the burden of which 
too often is painful mental suffering over small sins, and 
misunderstandings. As she grows older, she enjoys simple 
love stories of a romantic nature. 

"The natural instincts of a girl are narrower than a 
boy's. They may be broadened, however, if some one whom 
she admires takes an active part in directing her reading, 
for the girl is a hero-worshiper, and is willing to be guided 
by the judgment of one whom she likes. On the other hand, 
a boy is cautious about taking advice from any one who 
does not agree with his definite likes for things and actions ; 
this is especially true of his reading/' 

This realistic period acts as a boundary between two 
eras of strong imagination and feeling, the childhood era 
of fairy stories and wonder-tales and the adolescent era of 
romance. During adolescence is the time for the epics and 
the great story-books of the world. The time for love 
stories does not come until the youth is partly through this 
period, to girls a year or two earlier than to boys. Late in 
the period those youths who form the reading habit grow 
fond of biography and history. 


The story-tastes of children are defined by their expe- 
rience as well as by their development. Especially among 
young children is it needful to endeavor to realize what 
the limitations of their travel and observation are. Miss 
Bailey records that she was once about to attempt Seumas 
MacManus' humorous story of Billy Beg and His Bull 
to some small people on the East Side of New York, when 
it occurred to her to wonder whether any one of them had 


ever seen a bull. Only one had, and this was his illumi- 
nating description : "a bigger cow, with bicycle handle-bars 
on her head !" The East Side would not appear to be the 
best place in the world to tell the bull story. It is a ques- 
tion whether the usual emphasis in the Primary Depart- 
ments of Sunday schools upon the Twenty-third Psalm and 
the Parable of the Good Shepherd is not misplaced, where 
most of the children have never seen a sheep. To them 
a story of a cat and her kittens would be more immediately 

Miss Bailey sensibly propounds the following six ques- 
tions to be asked by any story-teller before she addresses 
her audience: 

What do these children know? 

Have they any experience other than that of the home? 

Do they come from homes of leisure or homes of 
industry ? 

Have they had a country or city experience ? 

Do they play with toys or games of chance? 

Are they Americans or aliens? 

"When she has satisfactorily answered these questions, 
the story-teller will select her story having for its theme, 
atmosphere and motif an idea or group of ideas that will 
touch the child's mental life as she has discovered it and by 
means of which it will find a permanent place in his mind 
through its comfortable friendliness and familiarity." A 
story that finds a child where he is at home is "like a 
friendly hand-grasp." 

This does not mean that every fact in a story must be 
a familiar one. Take the Story of the Three Bears. The 
child has never seen a bear, but he is familiar with every 
other thing in the story, a house, a bed, porridge, chairs, 
a little gir), and he has seen pictures of bears. In imagina- 
tive stories all children from all circumstances in life find 
a common ground of democracy. A beggar child as well 
as a poor little rich girl can dream of a fairy and a princess. 



A word about funny stories and sad stories. As the 
story-teller soon discovers, fun, especially for the young 
child, consists chiefly in the situation. The story of Bre'r 
Rabbit and the Tar Baby, which even adults enjoy, is per- 
haps the finest illustration of a story which is excruciatingly 
funny to the child. 

As for sad stories, do not tell them. "But they like 
sad stories. They ask for them," said a librarian who 
thought she knew how to plan a story-program much better 
than the story-teller. "Perhaps," acknowledges Mr. Schutze, 
"but who are 'they'? We will venture to assert that they 
are the future sentimentalists who cannot safeguard their 
own lives ; the future neurasthenics whose nerves and moods 
will be masters of their sickly bodies. It is more than likely 
that these children are the ones who most need satiric hu- 
mor and rough strength, or perhaps the brutal justice of 
the folk-tale as rendered by Grimm." Of course we 
wouldn't go so far as to maintain the literalness of our 
statement that sad stories should never be told. They ought 
certainly never to be the last story told in the day. If they 
be stories of injured or heroic or prudent virtue, they have 
their place, definite but small, in the variety of feeling- 
influence which we are at liberty to bring to bear upon a 
child's mind and heart. As Donald G. Mitchell said, "Little 
Red Riding Hood may be eaten up by the wolf who has 
put on her grandmother's cap; but the little Red Riding 
Hoods who are left will look all the sharper on those who 
are full of professions, and not judge people by their caps, 
and not believe the lying words of the strangers they meet 
upon the high-roads." 

The writer is fortunate to present, in Appendix I, lists, 
specially furnished him by some of the best story-tellers in 
America, not of stories that children ought to like but of 
those which, in their actual experience, children really do 
most like. 


"Folks say a Wizard to a Western King 
At Christmas-time such wondrous things did show, 
That through one window he beheld the spring; 
And through another saw the summer glow; 
And through a third the fruited vines arow ; 
While all the while, and in its wonted way, 
Piped the drear wind of that December day." 

William Morris. 

What is the plan for a good story? A narrative which 
has a definite beginning, continuous action and a definite 
ending. If it begins with a rambling description, it does not 
hold the interest and is not a good story. Unless some- 
thing happens soon and frequently, the child does not think 
it is a story at all. If it ends in a vague, indefinite way so 
that we do not really know what happened to the hero, 
even though that be like real life, it does not suit the child. 
The child's invariable desire for a happy ending is a simple 
outgrowth of his feeling for justice. "If the bad person 
is not punished and the good person not rewarded, the 
child feels that it is all wrong." 

The classics that appeal to children teach us how to 
tell them stories. Form and style to them are but little. 
Long comments and descriptions are annoying interruptions. 
First is personality. You must name and describe your 
hero. He is the child himself personalized. Then comes 
action. There must be a journey, a combat, a plot. Next 
is mystery, suspense, surprise. Finally the solution. With 
these simple elements anybody ought to tell a tale. They 
are the elements of the classics. 




There are really only four plots in any good story. 
These have been named by Angela M. Keyes as follows : 

First, "a single line of sequence." This is illustrated 
in such a story as "The Sleeping Beauty," in which the 
action moves steadily along a single line from one exciting 
event to the next. Second, "the three-parallel line." In 
such stories, we are shown what the first did, what the sec- 
ond did and what the third did, and the climax is usually 
in the third, and often the stupid third member of the 
family turns out to be the cleverest and most favored of 
fortune. Third, "two contrasting courses of action placed 
side by side." In such a story, we learn, first, what the 
beautiful person did and then what the ugly person did; 
what the industrious child did and what the idle one did, 
as in "Diamonds and Toads," "Cinderella," etc. Fourth, 
"the cumulative plan," illustrated in "The House that Jack 
Built," in which there are repetitions and added incidents 
and plots, and to each subject there is a new interest. 

These distinctions are particularly interesting in pre- 
paring to tell moral stories. In the first kind the story- 
teller moves straight toward the goal of his application by 
relating what was done by one person, the hero; in the 
third kind he contrasts the deeds of his hero with those of 
his villain. The second and fourth kinds are more elaborate 
and artificial and are usually not for the amateur. In each 
of these the goal is won through the pathway of suspended 
interest. So to most of us either the line of sequence or 
the method of contrast will be our choice in arranging our 


All authorities are agreed that the first essential in 
story-telling is to begin interestingly. The story must, as 


Miss Bailey says, have in it all the qualities that charac- 
terize a successful drama. "It must catch the attention of 
the audience the moment the curtain rises." Even in school, 
the social relationships of story-teller and listeners are such 
that attention must be earned, not demanded. When we 
are telling stories we must, like actors, court favor, for 
we have to do with 

"A court as of angels, 
A public not to be bribed, 
Not to be entreated, 
Not to be overawed." 

"In order to do this there must be no explanation, no 
descriptive scene, no painful dragging in of the plot. The 
child does not care a rap for the creating of atmosphere. 
He does not care how long ago the story events happened 
nor why they happened. What he is eager for is a quick 
story appeal made the second that the story curtain goes 
up." Therefore, she tells us, the story-teller must ask her- 
self some such question as this. "Does the story interest be- 
gin with my very first paragraph, my first sentence, my first 
word?" She cites, as an admirable example of recognizing 
this fact, a story-teller in a social settlement who had to deal 
with some street boys whose usual method, upon entering 
the room, was to throw down chairs and overturn tables 
and produce a scene of bedlam. The story-teller made 
no effort to control the boys. She simply stood in the cen- 
ter of the room, and when there was an instant's lull as 
they took breath for some more noise, she said, in a low, 
even tone of voice : "There was once a little Indian boy 
who rode fifty miles on the cow-catcher of an engine." This 
is what Miss Bailey calls catching the involuntary attention 
by appealing to a natural instinct. It would have been im- 
possible to secure the voluntary attention of those boys. 
She began just right, not with a man, not with a chieftain, 
but with a boy like themselves who had to do with some- 


thing that could go, who did a deed that they in their wildest 
dreams had never considered he rode an engine. 

The other day the writer turned to a new story-book, 
which opened as follows : 

"Once upon a time there was a boy. There, doesn't 
that begin like a fairy story?" 

Politely but emphatically, it does not. If you want to 
know what a fairy story begins like, turn to Edmund 
Leamy's "The Fairy Minstrel of Glenmalure" and this is 
what you shall read: 

"Kathleen and Emun were under the beech tree that 
stood in the hollow down near the stream. Kathleen was 
sitting against the tree trunk, stitching the sleeve of her 
dolly's dress. Emun was lying on his back, his hands under 
his head, his cap down on his forehead, and his eyes closed. 

" 'Emun, do you believe/ asked Kathleen, 'that there 
are any real live fairies now?' 

" 'I don't know,' said Emun, scarcely moving his lips. 

"Just then a beech nut fell and hit him on the nose. 
He opened his eyes, started up, looked above him, and 
saw, sitting on the fork of the tree, a little man, about 
twice the size of your finger, with a little three-cornered 
black hat with a red plume on it, and a little black coat and 
a red waistcoat, and little yellow knee-breeches, and white 
stockings, and little black shoes with gold buckles." 

It is hardly worth while to point out the difference. 
Leamy has something to say at once, he brings us immedi- 
ately close to his characters, the scene is full of charm and 
color, and we see at once that a lovely dream is just about 
to come true. 


Now as to action. Miss Vostrovsky's suggestive study 
shows that in young children the interest in what was done 
leads all others, and that they put several times as much 


emphasis upon action as upon moral qualities, sentiment, 
feeling, esthetic details and dress combined, while the 
thought of the actors received no mention at all. It is well 
known that adolescent boys demand "something doing" in 
their books, and in adults interest in action has hardly de- 

"For these reasons," says Edna Lyman, "let me urge 
you, when you are looking for stories to tell little children, 
to apply this threefold test as a kind of touchstone to their 
quality of fitness : Are they full of action, in close natural 
sequence? Are their images simple without being hum- 
drum? Are they repetitive? This last quality is not an 
absolute requisite, but it is at least very often an attribute 
of a good child-story." 

The analogy of the story to the drama has been spoken 
of. It is often helpful to the story-teller to conceive of 
his story as having scenes like a play. By doing this, he 
sees his story more clearly, builds it up more logically and 
brings it to a climax more effectively. 

When he has chosen his dramatic story, let him not 
decide that any arrangement is "good enough." Always 
preserving the author's text, he must consider not only 
rhythm, but the dramatic element, as he cuts the work to 
fit his time. A comparison of two versions of a paragraph 
from the "Thousand and One Nights" will illustrate the 
difference that can be sensed by the ear, as well as under- 
stood by the mind, and will serve to show how the improper 
cutting of a description may reduce the story to the com- 

"We heard the sound of drums and trumpets, warriors 
galloped about, and the air was filled with dust raised by 
the horses' hoofs." 

Sir Richard F. Burton renders as follows : "We heard 
the tom-toming of the kettle-drum, and the tantara of the 
trumpets, and the clash of cymbals, and the rattling of war- 
men's lances ; and the clamours of assailants and the clank- 
ing of bits and the neighing of steeds ; while the world was 


canopied with dense dust and sand-clouds raised by the 
horses' hoofs.'* 

The second, with its breathless hurrying to a pictorial 
climax, gives us the sight and sound of battle ; the first is 
colorless, and paints no picture for the inward eye. 

This appeal to "the inward eye" by descriptions that 
touch the senses is often the unrecognized but potent magic 
that gives a story its charm. We spoke in an earlier chap- 
ter of the interest of stories that have a sense appeal to 
little children. But we who are older are by no means 
insensible to this charm. We turn to the opening page of 
Stevenson's most careful story, "Prince Otto," and lo! 
how the skilful and crafty craftsman captures us at once 
with his subtle suggestion of sound and color and smell 
and even of taste. 

"The hum of watermills, the splash of running water, 
the clean odour of pine sawdust, the sound and smell of 
the pleasant wind among the innumerable army of the 
mountain pines, the dropping fire of huntsmen, the dull 
stroke of the wood-axe, intolerable roads, fresh trout for 
supper in the clean bare chamber of an inn, and the song 
of birds and the music of the village-bells these were the 
recollections of the Griinewald tourist." 

Perhaps the most lovely single page written in bur gen- 
eration occurs in Edward Thomas' "Life of Richard Jef- 
feries." It is a description of a hunt at evening. Note how 
the appeal is almost entirely that of the sense of sound, 
which the writer communicates in words of haunting melody 
in which the cadence of the horns accords with the music 
of the heart. 

" 'Yander they goo, up to Barbriam Caastle !' says the 
ploughman, checking his homeward jungling team. But 
the March afternoon is at an end, and it is too late to follow 
farther over the hill. The wind has fallen, and the black- 
bird sings at ease; the far away missel-thrush is almost as 
mild and sweet. A hare has stolen out, and in the still 
moist air before frost the violet scent is expanding. Then, 


suddenly, the huntsman's horn crackles upon the hill, splin- 
tering and tearing the solitude; a full, rich note follows, 
and goes to the heart of silence and into our hearts, too. 
Again and again a shrewd victorious note that seems the 
very essence of the red jackets that sprinkle the saddening 
slopes of Barbury Hill. It is almost night a most almighty 
quiet night, folding all those hills as sheep into a pen; 
yet the horn threatens it ; invades it, overthrows it, shooting 
to and fro in its sombre texture threads of crimson and 
gold. And the heart leaps up and is glad at this insult 
to the night, at the stinging music, at the large scene, and 
the horses and horsemen gigantic against the sky. To that 
horn blown at the edge of night and the edge of the world 
come all the hunters of the earth, as if out of the ground 
or the sea of time that washes the base of the Down ; and 
they are more than those dark hunters of the ridge, and 
stand among them, weaving strangeness and solemnity 
about them. The heart is a hunter still, and it has found 
a long-desired quarry, and is bringing it home with melody 
over the early world, as grim and illimitable as the level 
cloud-land in the west. But the ploughman and his team 
go on ; the horn has died away, and the hounds pass silently, 
like dreams when night is over and day is not begun." 

It is not claimed of course that children would listen 
to just this; these pictures are too painstakingly wrought, 
though there are some children who would be soothed by 
their very music. But much may be done in this direction. 
Hans Andersen knew this, and his stories are full of color 
and music and soft sounds. Do you remember how his 
"Wind's Tale" begins? "When the wind sweeps across a 
field of grass it makes little ripples in it like a lake; in a 
field of corn it makes great waves like the sea itself ; this 
is the wind's frolic. Do you see how the wind chases the 
white fleecy clouds as if they were a flock of sheep? Do 
you hear the wind down there, howling in the doorway 
like a watchman winding his horn ? Then, too, he whistles 
in the chimneys, making the fire crackle and sparkle. How 


cozy it is to sit in the warm glow of the fire listening to the 
tales it has to tell ! Let the wind tell its own story. Listen 
now." See how the buttercup's story in "The Snow Queen" 
fairly glows in buttercup color. "God's bright sun shone 
into a little court on the first day of spring. The sunbeams 
stole down the neighboring white wall, close to which 
bloomed the first yellow flower of the season; it shone like 
burnished gold in the sun. An old woman had brought her 
armchair out into the sun; her granddaughter, a poor and 
pretty little maid-servant, had come to pay her a short visit, 
and she kissed her. There was gold, heart's gold, in the 
kiss. Gold on the lips, gold on the ground, and gold above 
in the early morning beams!" 


"The Climax," says Miss Bryant, "is that which makes 
the story ; for it all that precedes has prepared the way. 
It is the point on which interest focuses. If a moral lesson 
is conveyed, it is here that it is enforced. Hence failure 
here means total failure. The reason why the 'good story' 
sometimes seems so dull when it is related by an apprecia- 
tive hearer is that he has missed the point in re-telling it. 
It is for this that the story exists, and skill in dealing with 
it counts more for success than at any other point." 

Just as important as a good beginning is a good ending. 
The most difficult place for some story-tellers to find seems 
to be a good place to stop. As Miss Cowles says : "Story- 
tellers sometimes remind one of a man holding the handles , 
of an electric battery. The current is so strong that he can- 
not let go. The story-teller must know when and how 
to 'let go.' " You need not apologize for your ending and 
you need not explain it. You need not tack on a moral 
just "let go" and "you will leave all the tingle and exhilara- 
tion of the magnetic current still in the face of your lis- 

"When yer git through pumpin' lave go th' ha-andle." 



Now as to the method of telling a story. "How to 
tell a story?" says Mr. Wyche. "Tell it naturally, simply, 
directly. The audience, the place, the occasion and the 
story itself must in a large measure determine the way in 
which a story is told. However, there are some funda- 
mental psychological principles underlying all creative proc- 
esses, whether it be telling a story or building a house. In 
telling a story one must be able to see clearly the mental 
pictures in the story and be able to create the picture anew 
each time the story is told in words that are current with 
his audience. If the story-teller sees clearly the picture, he 
can make others see it. But the story has something more 
than imagery. It has emotion and one must feel deeply 
the truth in the story. Feeling more than anything else 
will give one a motive for telling the truth. Frequently a 
story is told more than anything else to impart feeling." 

So important is directness as a method that the follow- 
ing sentence from Miss Sara Cone Bryant seems to the 
writer to be the most valuable one ever written upon the 
subject : 

"I like to think of the story-teller as a good fellow 
standing at a great window overlooking a busy street or 
a picturesque square, and reporting with gusto to the com- 
rade in the rear of the room what of mirth or sadness he 
sees; he hints at the policeman's strut, the organ-grinder's 
shrug, the schoolgirl's gayety, with a gesture or two which 
is born of an irresistible impulse to imitate ; but he never 
leaves his fascinating post to carry the imitation farther 
than a hint." 

Someone speaks of "the artist telling the truth as if 
he were listening to it." That is what the story-telling artist 
must endeavor to do. 

This power of -visualising is frequently emphasized by 
Mr. Wyche : "We must be able to visualize, to see clearly 


the images, the mental pictures in the story. If we are to 
tell the story of Ulysses we must see him." 

Again he urges: "To the extent that the story-teller 
can imagine these scenes, creating them anew as he tells 
the story, to that extent can he make his audience see them. 
He may rest assured if he does not see clearly the mental 
pictures, his audience will not. If the picture is hazy and 
dim his words will be doubtful, inaccurate, and inartistic, 
but if he have a vivid mental picture his words will be 
graphic, and his use of them will give just the right shade 
and color, making the outward ring true to the inward. 
Therein is the difference in reciting a story and telling a 

So important is this point that we will quote one more 
authority, Partridge : "The story-teller must take his hear- 
ers enthusiastically to the scenes of the story and allow 
them to see for themselves and to share the vision with 

Story-telling is thus, incidentally, most educative to \ 
the story-teller. The story-teller is like the guide who at- / 
tempts to show Europe. He finds that he must not depend 
upon his haze of memories ; he must be able to state clearly, 
definitely and accurately the exact facts. It makes him a 
wiser man to be able to do it. So the story-teller discovers 
that perhaps he does not know the classics as well as he 
thought, that he has in fact forgotten the very point of 
a certain famous story, that he must keep up with his 
reading if he would keep in advance of his child. Story- 
telling has made many an adult ashamed of his reading, 
as he has noticed that his mental habits are to dwell in 
realms which would not be respectable company to a good 

In Hervey's "Picture Work," he gives the story-teller 
six sensible suggestions as to the story itself: 
See it. 
Feel it. 
Shorten it. 


Expand it. 

Master it. 

Repeat it. 

These terse phrases need, perhaps, little elaboration. 
There is no inconsistency between the advice to "shorten it" 
and "expand it." Where to shorten is when to omit irrele- 
vant details, where to expand is where details will touch 
the fancy and appeal to the imagination. 


The story-teller can never know her full success. When 
she is telling a tale to a child she cannot see 

"Each little drop of wisdom as it falls 
Into the dimpling cistern of his heart," 

but she can perceive that the child is daily growing more 
imaginative, more thoughtful, and the citizen of a wider 
world than before. 

"Lads go singing on their way 
To Cambulo and far Cathay, 
Weaving dreams of high emprise 
Where cities strange shall meet their eyes. 
'Go singing, merry masters.' " 

"Gray-head Magi in amaze 
Will list and marvel at the strays. 
Emperor and mandarin 
All vie their gratitude to win. 
'Go singing, merry masters.' " 



"O, grown-ups cannot understand 

And grown-ups never will, 
How short's the way to fairy-land 

Across the purple hill; 
They smile ; their smile is very bland, 

Their eyes are wide and chill; 
And yet at just a child's demand 
The world's an Eden still." 

Alfred Noyes. 

Following are some miscellaneous but useful "tricks of 
the trade," each of which is given without much comment. 


If there is inattention it may be due to one of several 
causes. Perhaps some cannot hear. The informality of 
story-telling is such that the teller may move from the 
platform at the end to the center of the room, where if he 
will turn from side to side at times he will be nearer his 
audience and hold them better. A story-telling audience 
loves to sit on the edge of platforms, to double up in chairs, 
to nestle about the teacher anything that is unconventional 
and homelike. Sometimes the temperature of the room 
rises or the air becomes foul after the story-teller is part 
through his narrative. Children when near asphyxiation 
will keep attention to a good story better than to anything 
else but there are limits. Some children grow inattentive 



if they do not see the story-teller's face. Miss Cowles 
speaks of telling stories once when all the children but one 
were grouped at one side of the room with the adults on 
the other. The exception was a child of three who sat on 
his grandfather's lap on the "grown-up" side. The story- 
teller devoted her attention entirely to the children's side 
of the room. The moment the story was finished, a small 
voice from the neglected side of the room demanded, "Now 
tell it to me!" Each child wants to feel that the story is 
told to him, and this he does not feel if the story-teller turns 
away her face. By singling out the inattentive child and 
addressing him directly, even asking him a question after 
his attention is caught and he has the thread of the story, 
is an effective device. 

The worst possible defect of a story-teller is to get 
entangled in his story. It is this that makes the ignorant 
gossip so tiresome. He makes so many diversions and in- 
troduces so many irrelevant details that the listener is 
tired out trying to keep track of him. The trouble may 
be that the story-teller is really trying to tell two stories 
instead of one, and he can't get them unbraided. It may 
be that he hasn't a clear goal, that he thinks several bits 
of narrative strung together make a story, in fact that he 
hasn't a story to tell after all. It may be that he stops to 
toss a stone of attention at every object beside the road 
instead of plodding along through his story. At no time 
is such dallying more inexcusable than when one is ap- 
proaching an exciting place. It is a kind of going to sleep 
at the switch which ought to have the extremest penalties 
that are ever visited upon literary track-walkers. 


St. John says: "One of the most important of these 
literary devices is the use of direct rather than indirect dis- 
course. Through its use a certain vivacity of style is gained, 


and it adds movement and lifelikeness to the tale. There 
is no easier way to give the semblance of reality to an im- 
aginary tale than by letting the characters speak for them- 
selves. The personality of the narrator is less intrusive, and 
the effect upon the hearer is that of looking on at a scene 
in real life." 


Miss Bryant says: "Explanations and moralizing are 
mostly sheer clutter. Some few stories necessarily include 
a little explanation, and stories of the fable order may 
quaintly end with an obvious moral. But here again, the 
rule is great discretion." 

In warning the story-teller not to introduce too many 
irrelevant details, we must not go to the extreme of having 
no details at all. Such items as to name, costume or char- 
acter which attract attention or satisfy the sense of humor 
are always liked and upon repetition are always demanded. 
One woman declared that when she was a little girl the 
story of the ugly duckling never seemed to her quite right 
if the old Spanish duck with the rag around its leg was 
left out. 


The most important device, no doubt, is repetition. 
Says Miss Bryant: "The charm of repetition, to children, 
is a complex matter; there are undoubtedly a good many 
elements entering into it, hard to trace in analysis. But 
one or two of the more obvious may be seized and brought 
to view. The first is the subtle flattery of an unexpected 
sense of mastery. When the child-mind, following with 
toilful alertness a new train of thought, comes suddenly 
on a familiar epithet or expression, I fancy it is with much 
the same sense of satisfaction that we older people feel 
when in the midst of a long program of new music the 


orchestra strikes into something we have heard before." 
And Mr. St. John adds : "A very helpful device is the 
rhythmic repetition of certain significant words or phrases 
from time to time through the progress of the tale. In the 
fairy and folk-tales, this frequently appears, as in the case 
of the 'hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick,' of the little half chick, 
the 'trip-trop, trip-trop' of the three goats crossing the 
bridge, and the various remarks of the big bear, the middle- 
sized bear, and the little wee bear. In such cases, the story 
gains an added quaintness of form which has value in itself. 
The little child, puzzled by much that is unfamiliar, remem- 
bers the rhythmic phrase and welcomes it as we greet an 
old friend in a strange city." 

Of course the most valuable kind of repetition of a 
story is by the children themselves. Using the repetitious 
phrases as crutches to memory, they will be heard telling 
the stories over to their dolls or to their young playmates, 
who attend "with little listening hearts." Miss Meta Eloise 
Beall, who has had successful experience with story-telling 
hours for children, tells us how her method soon makes 
the children not only unconscious of themselves, but eager 
both to assist in the story-telling and to repeat and even go 
on with stories of their own: "I ask my grown-ups to be 
'little folks just for the time being/ and it never fails to 
please. Then comes a story for the 'wee folks.' Whenever 
this happens to be a 'repetition' story, before I'm half 
through the children join in the part that repeats perfectly 
unconscious of the fact that there are many grown-ups 
near. In the Story Hour given here some of the children 
were so eager to tell themselves a story that I let them 'take 
the floor,' and they delighted everybody." 

The child's desire, through repetition, to be sure he 
masters his favorite story leads him to read it. "Not long 
ago I came upon a child with his head buried in the pages 
of a story which I had told him many times, and upon 
asking him why he was reading that story, he replied : Tm 
reading the things I did not understand when you told it/ 


The little one had understood the tale from the first, but in 
the intervening months his understanding had broadened to 
a fuller meaning of many of the expressions." 


It is the privilege of the story-teller, when he has to 
do with a difficult subject or an objectionable incident, to 
do what the photographer does retouch. In the story 
of Jack the Giant-Killer, for example, it has come down to 
us through tradition that Jack is lazy, impudent to his par- 
ents and generally worthless, but finds a fate much better 
than he deserves. To children, however, he has always 
appeared as one of their favorite heroes, chiefly, no doubt, 
because they love the portrayal of great achievements by 
youths of their own age. In order that this impression may 
still be retained, it is certainly unnecessary to emphasize, 
or even to mention, the unfortunate traits in Jack's charac- 
ter. It detracts nothing from the story that he should be 
loving to his parents, that he should have, as was natural, 
shown some signs of manliness before his supreme test. 
Many a bad story may be redeemed by revision and right 


Says Miss Keyes: 

"The story-teller must not allow any intruding mental 
state or circumstance, any intruding 'self/ to come between 
the story and the listener. Such a self may be 

(1) The diffident or embarrassed self of the self- 
conscious story-teller. 

(2) The vain or affected self of the insincere story- 

(3) The weakening self of the patronizing story- 


(4) The non-seeing self of the non-spontaneous story- 

(5) The non-sensible, or non-artistic, self of the 
'sledge-hammer' story-teller. 

(6) The non-communicating self of the 'acting' story- 

(7) The misinformed self of the lifeless story-teller." 
The parallelism between the art of the actor and that 

of the story-teller is in matter rather than in manner. The 
actor aj3galgto the eye chiefly and only secondarily to the 
jmagination, while the story-teller ^appeals chiefly to the 
imagmalion and only secondarily to the eye. ChildrerT 
al^uuaTly^anrioyed by elocution from a storyteller. Says 
Miss Cowles : "One might suppose that the personality of 
the story-teller must become aggressive ; that it is his work 
to give to the hearer especially his interpretation of the 
story. It is very easy to go wrong here. What is wanted 
is the story, not the story plus one's personal reaction 
to it. If the hearer becomes conscious of the teller's effort 
to impress something upon his mind, the attention becomes 
divided between the story and the teller." The actor shows 
himself performing the story, but the story-teller takes his 
hearers enthusiastically to the scene and allows them to see 
for themselves the events, in which their imaginations make 
themselves performers. 

This does not mean that a story-teller may use no ges- 
tures. Some persons cannot talk without gesturing, and 
natural gestures, that are not distracting, may help make 
the story vivid. But, if we may express it so, the listener 
is to put in what he feels rather than what he is; whatever 
he does is that he may become the interpreter, not the hero, 
of the story. So rhythm, tone, song may, if they fulfil the 
purpose just named, be helps in story-telling. Costumes 
are used by some story-tellers. The robe of an Oriental 
story-teller, the costume of a fairy godmother, a scholar's 
gown, have some value. Seen before the story-teller be- 
gins, they help create an atmosphere, and when it is ex- 


plained that they are the garb of a story-teller of a cer- 
tain nation or time they define that atmosphere and help 
the story-teller to sink into his own background. But an 
actor's outfit would be inappropriate and ineffective, be- 
cause a story-teller is not a n *rtv r 

Mannerisms are unfortunate because they bring to the 
fore the personality of the story-teller and are a distrac- 
tion. Twirling a handkerchief, fiddling with rings or pencil 
or arranging the dress may unconsciously lower the level of 
attention and annoy the children. 



The most frequent mannerism and one that is oc- 
casioned both by personal nervousness and by the contagion 
of the audience is that of hurrying. Nearly all amateur 
story-tellers speak too fast anyhow, not allowing for the 
slow apprehensions of the children and forgetting that what 
is familiar to themselves is entirely fresh to their hearers, 
and there is always the temptation, for the sake of creating 
an air of animation, or to carry the hearers enthusiastically 
through an exciting scene, or to drown out a child with 
whooping cough, or to be sure not to overstay the hour, to 
become almost breathless with speed of utterance. The 
result is that details get left out, points are not clearly made, 
the children get irritated and the story is not well told. 
A minister who was subject to this temptation used to write 
"Plenty of Time" in red ink at the top of every page of his 
manuscript. The story-teller having no manuscript cannot 
do this, but if he can imagine the clock saying it or can put 
a burdock in his pocket to remind him of the fact whenever 
he thrusts his hand inside, he may do as well. By slow and 
distinct utterance the tones become deeper and more modu- 
lated, there is a chance here for a sentence of fine descrip- 
tion, there to enhance the humor of the situation, and self- 
mastery to put one's best and not one's worst into the 


climax. "A story," says Miss Cowles, "should never be 
hurriedly told, any more than it should be hurriedly pre- 

St. John says : " 'Take your time.' This suggestion 
needs explaining, perhaps. It does not mean license to 
dawdle. Nothing is much more annoying in a speaker than 
too great deliberateness, or than hesitation of speech. But 
it means a quiet realization of the fact that the floor is 
yours, everybody wants to hear you, there is time enough 
for every point and shade of meaning, and no one will 
think the story too long. This mental attitude must under- 
lie proper control of speed. Never hurry. A businesslike 
leisure is the true attitude of the story-teller." 


Story-telling by chalk talks is often effective. By this 
is meant not the elaborate drawings in colored crayons 
made by professional lyceum artists to the accompaniment 
of frivolous patter, but the few honest lines by which the 
amateur outlines his plot. It is. really only a more graphic 
gesturing, and the simpler the better. If only the artist 
will tell what his scrawls are meant for, the child will take 
them more seriously than they deserve. The least artistic 
can produce effects which enhance interest and encourage 
memory. It is not necessary to be able even to draw a 
face. A long perpendicular line will do for a man, a short 
one for a child; a few level lines suggest scenery, a few 
waving ones the sea, and so on. A more ambitious effort 
at details would be grotesque, but lines, as simple as a cave- 
man's drawing, are not grotesque but suggestive to imagina- 
tion. In some medieval frescoes a saint is pictured at sev- 
eral points in his career on one canvas. Here he is in 
peril, there he is healing the sick, yonder he is being buried 
and above he is in glory. The ancients saw no incongruity 
in thus assembling events that were years apart and that 


took place in more than one world. So it is well in telling a 
story with crayon which involves several incidents not to 
erase any "drawing" but to go on from point to point on the 
board marking out successive incidents, leaving all the 
sketches as an aid to reflection and memory. The child 
finds no incongruity in this. 


On the whole, it seems best not to memorize a story. 
It is better to assimilate it. Assimilation allows full liberty 
in the telling, while memorizing tends to cramp and hinder. 
Having a certain story for your personal possession, you 
can then begin to formulate it. Often as you begin to tell 
it aloud you find yourself feeling for and discovering a 
scene which conforms to the proper style for this story. 
A happy phrase here, a pleasant turn of expression there, 
some interesting details at another point will build a body 
upon the skeleton with which you began. 


Perhaps some readers feel the fear which is some- 
times expressed that training in story-telling is a dangerous 
thing since what is gained in technique may be lost in spon- 
taneity. Edna Lyman says of those who have this fear 
that they fail to recognize what the real outcome of training 
is. It does, as she acknowledges, lead out of unconscious 
self-expression into a certain self-consciousness, but when 
the training has gone a step further, it is possible to lose 
self-consciousness again in the greatness of the art. Story- 
telling is spoiled not by too much training but because the 
story-teller needs more training. 

We say that story-telling is an art. This does not mean 
that it is to be taken so seriously that the story-teller loses 


his enjoyment in the recital or the child in hearing. You 
ask a child why he wants stories so often and he will an- 
swer, "Because I like to hear them." The only purpose of 
telling a story to a child is to give pleasure. Mr. Schiitze, 
professional story-teller, says that when he is telling stories 
he does not think of story-telling as a method of instruction 
but as an art, and that he tries to realize that he can make 
no real impression with a story, except through enjoyment. 
It is encouraging to know that it is possible for anyone of 
ordinary intelligence so to master the simple rules of story- 
telling that to tell a story will be a delight both to the speaker 
and to the hearer. 


It is just as important to notice what the child does as 
what the story-teller does. Angela M. Keyes suggests eleven 
possible responses which a given child may make to a story. 
They are these : 

"(1) It is listening. 

(2) It is remaining silent. 

(3) It is commenting. 

(4) It is joining in. 

(5) It is re-telling. 

(6) It is partially re-telling. 

(7) It is telling other stories. 

(8) It is inventing stories. 

(9) It is expressing sometimes story images in 

other media. 

(10) It is sometimes playing the stories. 

(11) It is growing by the power and grace of the 


If a child is simply listening, he may catch as he listens 
a wider and deeper vision of the story. If he is silent, he 
may be simply content, which is result enough, but he may 


be brooding and meditating, in which case it requires insight 
to know whether to leave him to himself or to try to en- 
lighten him further by explaining. If he is commenting by 
question or remark, be encouraged to know that his mind 
is active. It may be wholesome for that reason to have 
the children argue out, during the telling of the story, the 
moral issue which they see involved. If he is joining in by 
repeating after you the rhymes or melodies, be even more 
encouraged. If, when the story is over, he is willing to 
re-tell it, be happier still. If he re-tells a little each day until 
by and by he has mastered it, rejoice that, though his proc- 
ess of absorption is slow, it is sure. If he is telling similar 
stories or is expressing a story by dressing up or by enacting 
it in play, so long as the action is spontaneous you should 
be satisfied in realizing that he is practicing an art as beauti- 
ful and telling as your own. If, finally, he is growing by 
the power and grace of the story, then indeed you may 
have reason to hope that, as all good stories tell us in con- 
clusion, he will "live happy ever after." 



"'Next time' 
'It is next time,' the happy children cry." 

Lewis Carroll. 

It is a good thing, after awhile, to settle down to a 
continued story. Beginning with Colonial times, I have 
portrayed the adventures of a certain Colonel Lindsay, who 
fought in the Revolution, and then went over the Allegha- 
nies to the Western Reserve and met a series of unparalleled 
adventures with the Indians in his home. 

To-night, for example, I am describing an attack on 
Marietta, that took place while our mythical hero was 
away. The eyes brighten as the gathering of the tribes is 
described. The children gather closer to me as Colonel 
Lindsay's capture far from home is related. The brave 
defense of the beleaguered garrison, under the lead of the 
Colonel's young son, brings cheers of approbation , which 
arouse the dog. Then there is the Colonel's skilful, silent 
escape, and his return in disguise to the neighborhood of his 
home. The children look into the fire as the great battle 
day comes with its wild charges, the rolling up of the farm 
wagons loaded with burning hay against the stockade, the 
break at the gate, and the almost miraculous appearance of 
the brave hero to save the day. We started with Lindsay 
as a lad, a scout under Washington in New Jersey saw him 
over the Alleghanies, stayed with his sons during the days 
of early settlement, and at last accounts we were dealing 
with his grandchildren in the times of 1812. We were over 
a year, at intervals, telling this story. 




A continued story that is told should have a construc- 
tion similar to one which the child reads in a magazine. 
Each chapter should present a well-rounded incident upon 
which the child's memory and fancy may love to linger, 
but it must close with the suggestion of a still more inter- 
esting incident which is to follow. It must, to a degree, be 
complete, and, to a greater degree, be incomplete. If it is 
too complete, there will not be much interest left over for 
next time. If it is too incomplete, the children will insist 
upon hearing the rest at once. Edna Lyman suggests that 
the story of Joan of Arc may be successfully given in a 
cycle of five stories as follows: 

1. The girlhood of Joan, the call of the "voices" and 
the visit to the Dauphin. 

2. The attack and delivery of Orleans. 

3. The defeat of the English and the crowning of the 

4. The treachery of Paris and the capture of Joan. 

5. Joan's trial and death. 

This arrangement resembles very much that of a five- 
act play. 

Similarly, she shows how the more difficult story of 
the Odyssey may be given in a cycle of eleven stories. 

1. The adventures of Ulysses with the Cyclops. 

2. The adventure at the home of the winds and the 
palace of Circe. 

3. The Sirens and the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. 

4. What happened in Ithaca and the search for Ulysses. 

5. An island prison and a shipwreck. 

6. Ulysses finds a princess washing clothes. 

7. Ulysses at the court of Alcinous. 

8. Ulysses' welcome at Ithaca, 


9. Ulysses at home. 

10. The trial by bow. 

11. The end of the hero's adventures. 

Still better, it seems to us, this story could be con- 
densed to a five-act narrative. To do this, the first act would 
consist of story No. 1, the second of stories 2 and 3, the 
third of stories 4 and 5, the fourth of stories 6 to 8 and 
the fifth of stories 9 to 11. The minor stories would be 
reduced to incidents in the main current of action. Nearly 
all continued stories lend themselves to the four-act or five- 
act form. 


The author names below a few stories which seem to 
be good to tell serially. If the reader is surprised to note 
that certain tales which he thinks of as for adults are graded 
for children, he must remember that a story that is told 
may be simplified so as to apply to a much younger period 
than as if for reading, and that it forms an introductory 
acquaintance for later reading. 

The great years for listening to stories are of course 
the first three or four years after the child enters school, 
when his mind is awakening but he himself reads with 
difficulty. Accordingly, the largest number of stories listed 
below is for the years between six and nine. Younger 
children usually prefer a story complete in itself. Their 
memory powers not being fully developed, they like a story 
that is short, simple and full of repetition. There are a 
few stories, however, which have these qualities and yet 
which may be told serially. A few of these are listed 
below. At about the tenth year, there is usually a veritable 
fever among children for reading. There are, however, 
some boys and girls who do not like to read. A score of 
stories, full of action, wholesome in quality and stimulative 
toward personal reading, is given herewith. 


Three to Six 

The Tale of Benjamin Bunny 

The Tale of Peter Rabbit 

Little Hare and Her Friends (Sykes) 

The Story of Joseph 

The Story of the Boyhood of David 

The Story of the Boyhood of Jesus 

Arabella and Araminta (Smith) 

The Roggie and Reggie Stories (Smith) 

The Brownies (Cox) 

The Adventures of Pinocchio 

Uncle Remus Stories 

Peter Pan 

Just So Stories 

Alice in Wonderland 

Six to Nine 





Thor, Loki and Balder 




Beautiful Joe 

Robin Hood 

The Magic Forest (White') 

King Arthur 

Indian Boyhood (Eastman) 

The Faerie Queene 

Don Quixote 

William Wallace 

Robert Bruce 


Charlemagne and Roland 

Saint Francis 

Richard the Lion-Hearted 

Henry of Navarre 

Drake and Raleigh 

George Washington 

Davy Crockett 

Daniel Boone 

David Livingstone 


Abraham Lincoln 

Doctor Grenfell 

The Arabian Nights 

Gulliver's Travels 

Robinson Crusoe 

Swiss Family Robinson 

Pilgrim's Progress 

The Nurnberg Stove 

Master Skylark (Bennett) 

Captains Courageous (Kipling) 

Little Women 

Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm 

Mother Carey's Chickens (Wiggin) 

The Widow O'Callaghan's Boys (Zollinger) 

Jack and Jill (Alcott) 

Little Lord Fauntleroy 

Jolly Good Times (Smith) 

Castle Blair (Shaw) 

The Prince and the Pauper 

Treasure Island 


Oliver Twist 

Ten to Twelve 

King Arthur's Round Table 

The Story of Siegfried 

Last of the Mohicans 

Men of Iron (Pyle) 

The Deerslayer 

Rob Roy 

Lorna Doone 


Tom Sawyer 


Uncle Tom's Cabin 

Jean Valjean 

To Have and to Hold 

Helen Keller 

Henry Esmond 

The Story of Our Country (Based on Eggleston) 

The Island Story (Marshall) 

Scotland's Story (Marshall) 



"You hold a gift 

That a mine of gold could not buy; 
Something the soul of a man to lift 
From the tiresome earth, and to make him see 
How beautiful common things may be." 

Lucy Larcom. 

Some of the world's greatest pictures are story-pic- 
tures. The "Sistine Madonna," the "Assumption," Murillo's 
"Beggar Boys" and the ''Gleaners" are not only good stones, 
but they are good stories seized by the artists at the greatest 
dramatic moments. 

It is not enough to leave a picture with a young child. 
"Usually," says Estelle M. Hurll, "their interest lasts only 
a moment, unless guided by an older companion. The 
child, untrained to concentration, flits from subject to sub- 
ject as a butterfly from one blossom to another. But let 
the mother begin to talk about the picture, and the child 
fixes eager eyes upon it and follows every word with breath- 
less attention. And 'talking about' a picture is simply letting 
the picture talk, provided, of course, that it is a story- 

The value of picture story-telling is very great. Do 
you not recall the life-long interest and influence of some 
picture which hung upon the wall of your home in early 
childhood? Considering the strength of the influence of 
pictures, their choice should not be by accident. If it is 
ever right to look a gift-horse in the mouth, it is when 



some one proposes to add a new picture by gift to your 
home. And in choosing the pictures which you are going 
to purchase, ought you not to be glad to buy those which 
will be not merely bright spots or imitations of the choice 
of your neighbors, but shall have a meaning to the souls 
of your children as long as they live? 

In this age of the moving-picture show, in the main 
educational and even morally inspiring, there is all the more 
need for emphasizing pictures that do not move, that are 
still and silent and eternal. Both mind and heart that are 
disturbed and distracted 

"Like a tired child at a show 
That sees through tears the mummers leap 
Would now its wearied vision close" 

upon pictures that are restful and that share in the peace and 
shelter of home. 

One of our best story-tellers has observed that a child 
loves to have a picture which he can hold in his hand. 
We notice this touch-instinct in the eagerness which children 
have to handle every new object which is brought to their 
attention. So she purchases the little reproductions which 
can be bought for half a cent, and the children like them 
more than the penny pictures because they can handle them 
and love them. The picture-hour, therefore, need not be 
expensive. Perhaps the best way to introduce little chil- 
dren to pictures which they shall love is to get them one 
of the tiny reproductions on Perry picture or postcard and 
soon after buy a large framed reproduction for the wall. 

Very much of value as to the best methods of educat- 
ing children in good pictures may be learned from a study 
of the picture-interests of the children. We shall, here as 
elsewhere, be more successful if we work with Nature 
than against her. 



Young children are known to have a practically unani- 
mous interest in pictures of human beings. Ninety-nine per 
cent, of the drawings of little folks are of people. They 
have no conception of perspective, they do not notice de- 
tail (they will not observe that a figure is armless unless 
someone calls their attention to the defect) and they do 
not care for ornaments, but they begin with the head and 
face, they like to draw people in action, objects of daily 
use and things close at hand, and as soon as they are old 
enough to recognize pictures they so confidently expect 
them to move that they are often surprised in coming back 
to a loved picture to find that the positions of the figures 
have not changed. "He hasn't got him yet !" exclaimed the 
little fellow delightedly, when he saw that the crocodile had 
not yet caught the negro boy in the picture. 

Children between six and ten like to recognize in pic- 
tures the things they know, such as people, plants, houses 
and animals, and the hobbies in which they have begun to 
be interested. No feeling for landscape has been discov- 
ered before ten. They like narrative-pictures and good 
strong colors. 

Young people over ten begin to notice perspective and 
they observe detail more carefully. Yet before having had 
lessons they instinctively put human heads upon their ani- 
mals when they begin to draw, as if the human interest 
still dominated every other. They like now to portray 
fanciful and dramatic scenes, such as incidents in the stories 
they read and hear, battles, snow fights, fires, sports and 
games, and all the scenic side of life. 

With adolescence comes the first real love of beauty 
and an accompanying interest in quiet pictures of nature. 
There is still a strong liking for story-pictures, particularly 
those of romantic and symbolical character. They love 
now to trace out details and allegories, and to claim as their 
own pictures which they begin to cherish. 


This brief sketch suggests that at every age of child- 
hood it is the human interest and the story that win atten- 
tion. The subject is everything, the art with which it is 
pictured is nothing. There is before high-school years no 
technical criticism, little care for composition, selection or 
tone, and still less any desire to know of the history of art. 


Some points which are emphasized in school art-study 
are evidently unnecessary. We need have no care about 
putting pictures before children in chronological order ; we 
must not confuse picture-study with the history of art. We 
must not try too early to get children to care for pictures 
simply because they were painted by great artists. "Young 
children's votes," says G. Stanley Hall, "are never for the 
old masters, whose cult below the teens is only an air plant 
without a single vital root that strikes into their souls. 
It is a fool's paradise to fancy that there is anything in 
Michael Angelo, Raphael, Rembrandt, or any of the classic 
works of art that make much appeal to juveniles." In this 
connection we may urge that certain subjects which seem 
to be universally selected for children because of the con- 
ventional choice of adults may properly be ignored as of no 
actual interest to them. The Roman Forum in its ruins, 
the "sixteen" Madonna as one child wearily called it, and 
Prince Baltazar on (rocking) horse-back may be instanced. 
One quite feels in sympathy too with a writer in the Fore- 
runner who says, "To me, 'Mona Lisa' is a slimy-looking 
creature, and I mentally cross myself every time I look at 
her evil eyes." 

We need not worry much about Scripture or historical 
continuity, painters' biographies, appropriateness to season 
or relation to other school work; if they like a picture at 
all, they will like it at one time as well as another. It is 
apparently useless to show Corot, Constable, Diaz, Ruisdael 


to children under ten, who have no interest in landscape. 
It is a question whether separate portraits, like the well- 
known infant Stuart, the Penelope Boothby, the infant Sam- 
uel, are anywhere near as interesting as much less famous 
children in action. For a similar psychological (with no 
regard to the religious) reason we have probably overdone 
the Madonna, the Christ Child and pictures with people in 
unknown costumes. Since children have so little apprecia- 
tion of composition and tone, pictures whose chief charm 
is their color ought not to be shown in monochrome. 
Corot's "Springtime" may be instanced as a picture which in 
carbon is quite meaningless to a child. 


All this points the way to a neglected and most fruitful 
method of picture-study, the method of the story. Even 
the writers of the many current books on story-telling have 
hardly touched upon this union of literature and art in early 
education. It is true that Carolyn Sherwin Bailey in her 
"For the Story-teller" says that "It is to be questioned 
whether or not the story of The Little Red Hen' would 
have been awarded such immortality if its heroine had been 
a plain hen and not red.'' But she does not follow up the 
point by showing how much more graphic is the picture- 
book showing the red hen than even the most animated 
monologue about her. 

Some of our school-book publishers have begun to 
recognize picture-study in their reading books. The three 
Cyr readers published by Ginn & Company and some art 
readers, published by the Macmillan Company and the 
American Book Company, are the first endeavors to bring 
children into contact with good art by telling stories about 
great pictures which are interesting to little children. 

It may be objected that if we push forward the story- 
interest in pictures we shall not do justice to the higher 
artistic qualities. The higher artistic qualities will come 


later, but just as we do not give our children Robert Brown- 
ing and George Meredith until they come to them, so we 
should not give them the masters who appeal to mature 
minds until they are themselves mature. 

We can do justice both to art and to letters. If we 
bore the children with our picture-comment now, we shall 
prevent their continuing any live interest in the picture- 
world, but if we are as careful to give them the pictures 
they can appreciate as we do the books they can appreciate, 
we shall carry them with us up to the highest levels. 


We may summarize our suggestions as to the choice of 
pictures for children, as follows : 

Give them pictures of people in action. 

Let the action suggest a story within their own 
experience or range of appreciation. 

Use colored pictures whenever possible, if it is 
reasonably good color. 

Ignore for the present the history of art, chrono- 
logical order, reference to technical details. 

For the sake of later impression choose pictures 
that are good if not great, honestly drawn, faith- 
fully colored, sincerely conceived. 

Avoid in the main the weakly sentimental, but post- 
pone until adolescence explanation why a child 
of Murillo is greater than one of Bouguercau, 
why a Madonna of Raphael is finer than one of 
Max, why a Botticelli is more beautiful than a 
Landseer. All this will come better through the 
work in drawing in the school, where honest 
drawing and color and clear-cut purpose or 
sentiment in the actual work of creating beauty 
will give the child a good sound taste and the 
power of discriminating for himself. 



Let us hold firmly in mind this thought, that the pur- 
pose of helping children to love pictures through stories 
about them is to create memories that shall last, as we hope, 
all their lives. We wish to make our children feel the im- 
portance of these pictures so much that they shall take 
them seriously and we want to tell our stories so well that 
ever afterward the story will recall the picture or the pic- 
ture the story. 

Let us suppose that the little child has come to our 
arms at the close of the day. We give him a small colored 
reproduction of a great picture to hold in his hand. As 
he looks at it curiously, we tell the story in an animated 
manner. We encourage him to ask questions about it. 
We tell him all that we know, or if we think it better to 
pique his curiosity, we promise to continue the story the 
following evening. After a day or two we bring the picture 
to him again and ask him to tell it to us. By this review 
the picture is fixed in his mind. The picture is hung low 
in the living-room or in the child's own room where he can 
see it. It is often referred to by the mother and the child 
is encouraged to show it to his playmates and to tell the 
story of it to others. Finally this picture, or a large repro- 
duction, is put in a permanent place and so becomes one 
of the treasures of the home and of the child. If a choice 
picture was introduced to a household after having under- 
gone the same scrutiny and being accompanied by the same 
tact and thought fulness as a human friend, it will take its 
place as one of the permanent friends of the home. 

With boys and girls between six and fourteen very 
much the same method may be used. In addition, it is 
often possible to refer the child to books, especially story- 
books or poems in which the story of the picture is told 
more in detail. It is the experience of public librarians that 


this method often allures many children who are not fond 
of books to read them with interest. 

Adolescence is the golden age for picture-study. In 
these days of idealism, it is Dr. G. Stanley Hall's opinion 
that "Art should not now be for art's sake, but for the sake 
of feeling and character, life and conduct. Such an oppor- 
tunity for infecting the soul with vaccine of ideality, hope, 
optimism, and courage in adversity, will never come again." 
And in another place he says, "Pictures that represent every 
noble passion writ strong and large should be shown and 
impressed. Art thus taught is perhaps the best of all initia- 
tions into adolescence. It is the chief regulator of the heart 
out of which are the issues of life." With adolescent young 
people a description of a picture may be left for their own 
reading. "See how much you can find in this picture" 
is also a good introduction by which parents may leave a 
reproduction with a young person with no further prelude 
or explanation. This opens the way to talk the picture over 
later and to see how much the boy or girl has gotten out 
of it. 

The laws of story-telling do not differ materially, 
whether one uses pictures or not "Introduce your thunder 
clap, your story hero in the first sentence," urges Miss 
Bailey. So with the picture, point at once to the central 
figure and tell some active thing about him. A good pic- 
ture, like a good story, generally starts in the middle, and 
from that point it is easy, having aroused interest, to work 
back to the beginning. In Leighton's "Captive Androm- 
ache," for example, to be shown and told to older young 
people, the beautiful, plaintive central figure at once appeals 
to the interest of the listener to know what came before 
which brought her into her present plight. 

From the central figure we pass to the minor charac- 
ters. They form successive chapters of the picture-story. 
In "When Did You Last See Your Father?" the descrip- 
tion of the sturdy lad in the center actually requires a de- 


scription of each other character in the room before the 
story is really concluded. 

In a story-picture landscape is always secondary to the 
human interest, and so this lesser attraction is dwelt upon 
only to emphasize the dramatic situation. In Boughton's 
pictures of the Pilgrims it is always the snow and the 
winter that emphasize the bravery of our forefathers. 
In "The Gleaners" the hot sun and the yellow fields, sug- 
gested even in an uncolored print, give force to the mean- 
ing of toil. Details also minister to the story or else they 
are irrelevant. Adolescents are peculiarly fond of study- 
ing out parables and analogies, and so Holman Hunt and 
Watts and many of the Pre-Raphaelites seem especially to 
belong to them. Attention is given to this interest in some 
of the pictures selected in the list below. With adolescents 
also we may show how composition or line or tone add even 
to the story-interest or complete the meaning of the artist. 
A high-school pupil can appreciate how the circles in the 
"Madonna of the Chair" and the curves in the Botticelli Ma- 
donna of the Louvre bring mother and child together and 
symbolize the encircling and secluding love of the mother. 
He can also see how the converging angles in "The Fighting 
Temeraire" suggest the idea of a ship advancing toward the 
right foreground of the picture. 


It may be helpful to give two short picture-stories 
which were prepared by the writer to accompany reproduc- 
tions of two well-known paintings. The pictures themselves 
are so familiar that they need not be reproduced here. 
The first of these is a story for little boys. The reader 
will note that the writer took considerable pains to collect 
all the facts concerning the picture and the painter which 
would be interesting to children, and that, in the course 
of the story, he calls attention to every possible detail of 
composition or color in the picture. 




Sir Walter Scott was the most loved story-teller in 
Scotland and Sir Henry Raeburn was the most loved 
painter, and they were friends. Both of them lived in 
Edinburgh when they were boys. 

Sir Henry Raeburn was very fond of children and 
of flowers. One morning when he was walking in his gar- 
den, he saw over in one corner a little poor boy. When 
he went near to him the boy was much frightened, but he 
held up a piece of paper in his hand for Sir Henry to 
look at. Upon the paper was a sketch of one of the beauti- 
ful windows of Sir Henry's house, which this boy had 
made. He told the boy to come again, but to come next 
time through the gate and not over the wall. Afterward 
he helped this boy, who was a poor shoemaker's son in 
Edinburgh, by giving him lessons, and years later, when 
he became a man, this boy became a celebrated artist him- 

It was one of the boys who wandered into his garden 
that Sir Henry Raeburn was thinking of when he painted 
this picture. Perhaps it was this little shoemaker's son. 
Perhaps it was one of his own children, or grandchildren. 
This boy in the picture has been out in the garden in the 
early morning to pick some fresh leaves for his pet bunny, 
and he has picked some roses, too, for his mother. The 
rabbit, which is a white one with a brown spot on its back, 
has come out from its home in the shed to have its break- 
fast. The boy has put his arm around his pet because he 
loves it, and he looks up to see who is coming. He is look- 
ing right into the painter's face. This artist loved to paint 
people with their faces in the light and full of joy and 
health. He wanted to picture them at their best. 

Do you notice in what beautiful clothes the painter has 


dressed this boy? You see, he has on a shirt of some 
soft white material, with a sailor collar that opens wide in 
the front. His trousers are bright-colored and his black 
cap is put on a little one side. Do you not think this lad has 
a beautiful face and a pleasant smile ? 

After he has fed his rabbit he will carry the flowers 
in to his mother, and they will have their breakfast to- 

When Henry Raeburn had become famous, King 
George IV, who made Walter Scott a knight, came to Scot- 
land and knighted his friend, the painter, too. The year 
before that the artists of England gave him the highest 
honor they could : they made him a member of their Royal 
Academy. When anyone has this honor given him, he must 
give the Academy one of his best paintings. Sir Henry Rae- 
burn painted many famous people, but the picture he gave 
the Royal Academy was this "Boy and Rabbit." 

The second story will perhaps be more interesting to 
girls. In this case, too, details as to painter, character and 
purpose were collected. Color and composition are pointed 
out with considerable care and the natural opportunity for 
a sweet and simple lesson is taken advantage of in the 
course of the story. 



Does it seem possible that the most charming pictures 
of children ever painted were made by an old bachelor? 
Yet he was such a loving old fellow that Samuel Johnson 
said to him once : "Reynolds, you hate no one living ; I like 
a good hater !" We are told that his great house was often 
full of children and that he kept special toys and sweetmeats 
on hand with which to amuse them. It was certainly a 


great honor when he chose one of his little friends as the 
subject of one of his paintings. 

This is said to be the picture of his little grandniece. 
She must have been about six years old when this picture 
was painted. The picture tells its own story. She has been 
running about barefoot all the morning. She awoke with 
the birds and went out among them, watching the sunshine 
leap and play. The clouds were as white as curds and 
the trees were like great bouquets. She knew where all 
the flowers grew. She ran down through the meadow to 
pluck some of them before breakfast. All the morning she 
was in the garden and with her playmates, rolling her hoop, 
tossing her ball and playing with her little friends. I 
think they have been chasing her in a game and that she 
has sat down under a tree, all breathless, to rest a minute. 
When she puts her hands against her breast she can feel 
her heart beating hard. As she sits there, she hears a sky- 
lark, and the loving painter caught her just as she was 
listening to its beautiful song. 

To the picture of this little girl, with the sweet face 
and the lovely, unspoiled nature, Sir Joshua gave the name, 
"The Age of Innocence." He dressed her in a spotless 
gown as simple as her purity. There is just a touch of pink 
at her waist and in her hair to match the tint of her cheeks. 
The dear painter no doubt agreed with the poet who said 
of a little girl child like her, that she had "the- spirit of all 
dews and flowers and springs and tender sweet wonders." 
Or, perhaps, he had read the Lithuanian legend that when 
the Lord God had made the first man and the first woman 
and had set them in Eden, He grew lonesome because there 
was no music from any soft, small throat. So 

"He took of the sun a golden beam, 

And He took the carol the red-breast sings; 
The ripple He took of a clear, cool stream, 

And the shining down from a ringdove's wings ; 
And a rose and a lily He took, and smiled, 
As He mixed them up and He made a child," 


And when the man and the woman went away from the Gar- 
den, the child stayed, and he is singing in the Garden yet 
if we only knew the way to find him. 


When the pictures, so studied and thus loved, have been 
permanently placed in the home, they take their place as 
part of its spiritual furnishing. Read earnestly this word 
which Parker and Union say in their 'The Art of Building 
a Home": 

"Understanding something of the true meaning of art, 
we may set about realizing it, at least in the homes which 
are so much within our control. Let us have such ornament 
as we do have really beautiful, something which it has given 
pleasure to the producer to create and which shows this in 
every line. Let us call in the artist . . . and bid him paint 
on our walls landscapes and scenes which shall bring light 
and life into the room; which shall speak of nature, purity 
and truth; shall become part of the room, of the walls on 
which they are painted, and of the lives of us who live 
beside them; paintings which our children shall grow up 
to love, and shall always connect with scenes of home 
with that vividness of a memory from childhood which no 
time can efface. . . . Let the floor go undecorated, and the 
wood unpainted that we may have time to think, and money 
with which to educate our children to think also. Let us 
have rooms which once decorated are always decorated, 
rooms fit to be homes in the fullest poetry of the name; 
rooms which can form backgrounds, fitting and dignified, at 
the time and in our memories, for all those little scenes, 
those acts of kindness and small duties, as well as the scenes 
of deep emotion and trial, which make up the drama of our 
lives at home." 



The opportunity for direct moral training through pic- 
tures has been neglected. Modern education is emphasiz- 
ing the central importance of the feelings as the background 
of interest, habit and will. The writer remembers a steel 
engraving of "The Three Graces," which he has learned 
later was from an artist named Hicks, a most unlikely pic- 
ture to attract the attention of a boy ; yet it seemed to him 
that the Charity with lambent eyes in the center was his 
ideal of unimpassioned perfection, while the eager Hope 
in the foreground held all that was winsome, and the whole 
group was steadying and inspiring. Especially does the new 
interest in detail cause the youth now to search out and 
remember every moral implication in a picture. Says Miss 
Hurll: "To search out all the charming accessories of a 
Dutch interior is almost like unpacking a stocking full of 
Christmas toys." And the parables of Holman Hunt and 
the allegories of George F. Watts and the romantic sug- 
gestions of Millais and Leighton seem almost evangelic 
in their influence upon young people. 

Particularly in its portrayal of the beauty in common 
things does art teach us the great commonplace virtues of 
fidelity and contentment. Lowell tells us : 

"As with words the poet paints, for you 
The happy pencil at its labor sings, 
Stealing his privilege, nor does him wrong, 
Beneath the false discovering the true 
And Beauty's best in unregarded things." 

We have all of us not only learned more about the de- 
tails of the life of Jesus from pictures than we have from the 
Bible, but we have perhaps absorbed fully as much about his 
attitude, his ideals and his activities from the former source 
as from the latter. Reproductions of sacred art have begun 
to be used in teaching the story of Jesus and also the history 


of the Old Testament. Why do we not go a step further 
and study morals through well-selected pictures which illu- 
minate the great cardinal virtues? If we can help the chil- 
dren to love them, and if further they can own them, are 
we not directly helping to give them those permanent in- 
spirations which came to ourselves, largely through acci- 
dent, by the old home-pictures ? Some of these pictures 
they will no doubt outgrow, but they will hardly outgrow 
their influence, and in later time they will love them over 
again as relics of a cherished but an almost forgotten child- 

The use of pictures for moral ends is not different from 
that for artistic ends. The child in either case must love 
the picture and understand it before it can influence either 
mind or soul. A good picture, like a good story, should point 
its own moral, and it is as sinful to "tag a moral" to a 
picture as Dr. Henry van Dyke tells us it is to a story. 
The very questions that bring out the artistic detail will 
impress the lesson which the artist is teaching, and time 
and reflection will do the rest. 

A number of the pictures which have been named at 
the close of this chapter are most useful in the suggestion 
of heroic character, patient endurance or generous achieve- 
ment. They are especially the pictures too that will last, 
and so have a lasting influence. In collecting them for this 
purpose it is helpful to reinforce their moral suggestive- 
ness by choice quotations, easily memorized, which will be 
remembered with the picture. The alert teacher of religion 
will note how many such pictures have an important place 
for use as comparisons in teaching Scripture biography. 
By analogy of circumstance or virtue they may be help- 
fully used in Bible study. A few of these suggested analo- 
gies are as follows: 

"When Did You See Your Father?" to accompany the 
story of Daniel. 

"Nathan Hale" to accompany the story of Stephen. 


"The Fighting Temeraire" to accompany the story of 

"Christ or Diana" to accompany the story of the mar- 

"Washington Laying down his Commission" to ac- 
company the story of Moses. 

"Angels in the Kitchen" and "Lavabo" to suggest the 
topic, Religion in Common Life. 

"Saint Christopher" to suggest the thought, Disciple- 

"Christ in the Temple" to suggest the thought of the 
religious committal of youth. 

"Light of the World" to suggest the thought, Conver- 

"King Arthur's Round Table" to suggest the thought, 

"Is It Nothing to You ?" to suggest the thought, "nobler 
loves and nobler cares." 

"St. Ursula's Dream" and "The Gleaners" to suggest 
the thought, Fidelity. 

"The Lark" to suggest the thought, Worship through 

"Robert Louis Stevenson" to suggest the thought, 
Friendship unto death. 

"Feed My Lambs" to suggest the thought, Brother- 

"The Angelus" and "The Never Ending Prayer" to 
suggest the Lord's Prayer. 

"Herakles Wrestling With Death" and "The Sea Gave 
up Its Dead" to suggest Immortality. 

As young people grow older, there is direct moral in- 
fluence in causing them to realize the deeper meaning of 
the struggle of the artist or of the history of the picture. 
If a young person can come to see the obstacles of the times 
in which the artist lived, the lack of appreciation which he 
met, the seriousness of his effort, the conquest over his ad- 


versaries, the beauty which shone through his primitive 
technique, the great spiritual thought which was underneath 
his work, then the very soul of the picture may enter into 
his soul. In his chapter on "The Personal Element" in his 
fine book "The Meaning of Pictures," Dr. J. C. van Dyke 
assures us that "the man be he weak or strong, good 
or bad, noble or ignoble, serious or flippant eventually 
appears in his work." And he says further, "The frank 
statement of personal feeling or faith in an artist, the candid 
autobiography, has done more to show people how to 
live than all the long volumes of scientific history." It does 
a young person just as much good to come in contact 
with a great life in a picture as in a biography, and here is 
the moral inspiration that Ruskin believed in when he in- 
sisted that admiration of great pictures helps us to "become 
able to rejoice more in what others are than what we are 
ourselves, and more in the strength that is forever above us 
than in what we can ever attain." 


The following list is in no sense the "best one hundred 
pictures" for the ages represented. It is simply a list that 
illustrates the points which have just been made. It in- 
cludes some pictures chosen partly because they are not so 
well known as others. 

The abbreviations in the third column indicate the pub- 
lishers. Their names, addresses and the prices of their pic- 
tures are as follows : 

Institute, American Institute of Child Life, 1714 Chestnut St., 
Phila., 20c. 

Perry, Perry Pictures Co., Maiden, Mass., Ic. 

Cosmos, Cosmos Pictures Co., 119 West 25th St., New York, 
25c. doz. 

Reinthal, Reinthal & Newman, 106 West 29th St., New York, 5c. 

Detroit Pub. Co., Detroit Publishing Co., Detroit, Mich., 5c. 

Gross, Edward Gross Co., New York City, 5c. 

Chicago Museum, Chicago Museum of Art, Chicago, 111., Sc. 



Children Up to Six 

Boy and Rabbit Raeburn 

Feeding Her Birds Millet 

Scene in a Courtyard De Hooch 

Mother and Daughter Le Brun 

The Blessing Chardin 

The Pantry Door De Hooch 

Bedtime J. W. Smith 

The Shepherd's Chief Mourner Landseer 

The Age of Innocence Reynolds 

By-lo Baby Bunting Burd 
Katinka, the Little Dutch Girl 


/ Cosmos 








For Children Seven to Fourteen 

Young Raleigh 

When Did You Last See Your 

Father ? 

The Never-Ending Prayer 
The Doctor 
"I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes 

Unto the Hills" 

The Lion of Lucerne 


Peter Pan 

Making the First Flag 

The Drums of the Fore and Aft 

Frank and the Ponies 

The Story of the Porringer 










For Young. People Fourteen to Twenty 

The Child in the Temple Hunt 

The Fighting Temeraire Turner 

Captive Andromache Leighton 

Christ or Diana Long 

The Angelus Millet 

The Shadow of Death Hunt 

The Gleaners Millet 



Sweet and Low Taylor Gross 

The Song of the Lark Breton Chicago Museum 

The Aztec Bride Leigh Institute 

The Charge of the V. M. I. \ T ., 

Cadets Institute 

The Light of the World Hunt Perry 

A list of books containing picture-descriptions and sug- 
gestions for explaining pictures to children is given in Ap- 
pendix III. 


"Once more the children throng the lanes, 

Themselves like flowers, to weave 
Their garlands and their daisy-chains 

And listen and believe 
The tale of Once-upon-a-time, 

And hear the Long-ago 

And Happy-ever-after chime 

Because it must be so." 

Alfred Noyes. 

The relation of a child's play to his favorite stories has 
been made a special study by Prof. H. M. Burr of the 
Y. M. C. A. Training College at Springfield, with the idea 
of taking advantage of its possibilities in education. He 
has planned a graded course in stories as follows: 

"1. Race stories, especially Teutonic myths, legends 
and folklore. Stories appealing to the imagination and 
illustrating the attempts of the child race to explain the 
wonders of the world in which he lives. 

"2. Stories of nature ; animal and plant stories. 

"3. Stories of individual prowess ; hero tales, Sam- 
son, Hercules, etc. Stories of early inventions. 

"4. Stories of great leaders and patriots. Social 
heroes from Moses to Washington. 

"5. Stories of love, altruism, love of woman, love of 
country and home, love of beauty, truth and God." 



He suggests the possibility of associating with these 
stories, as appropriate means of expression, activities as 
follows : 

"With nature stones, myths, and legends would be asso- 
ciated tramps in the woods and every variety of nature 
study ; care of animals, plants, etc. 

"With stories of individual prowess would be asso- 
ciated the individualistic games, athletic and gymnastic 
work for the development of individual strength and ability, 
also, constructive work of the more elementary type, work 
with clay, knife work, basket weaving, etc. 

"With the stories of great leaders and patriots would 
be associated games which involve team play, leadership, 
obedience to leader, and subordination of self to the group. 

"With the altruistic stories would be associated altruis- 
tic efforts in behalf of boys who are less favored." 

We are convinced that some such correlation is uncon- 
sciously attempted by many children between their play and 
their reading. It may well be carried further by the con- 
scious endeavor of parents and teachers. 


"Story motivates the child and play expresses him," 
says Mari Hofer. This is the deeper correlation, and the 
one with which we are most familiar. In the home, in the 
writer's observation, story-telling soon develops a particular 
kind of self-activity, which might be called the story game. 
A good story would be acted out as a play the next Satur- 
day. If the children saw a good drama, they insisted on 
adding some more acts to it at home. 

They begin to write stories themselves. I have bor- 
rowed the following account of an actual method from my 
"The Coming Generation." 

You should have a big blank book, on the title page 
of which you may write, "The New Crusoe." 


First, we imagine that we have been wrecked on an 
unknown island, and while we are drawing a rough sketch 
of the wreck, the children are deciding the best things to 
take ashore. Of course, in the haste of leaving, it is hard 
to think of everything, but as we cannot supply any needs 
later, except by our own ingenuity, we must be as self- 
possessed as possible. The leader's part all through is to 
listen and put down what is decided upon. He makes no 
suggestions himself, unless everybody else is cornered. 
Indeed the story almost tells itself. 

Each night the map of the country may be extended 
as far as they have explored it. The children shall name all 
the points of interest. Several maps will be needed before 
we get through, to show particular districts more clearly. 

We camp the first night close by the shore under a tent 
of old tarpaulin. We are busy for a week in bringing our 
goods ashore before the ship broke up. But our tent was 
entirely unsheltered, and far from fresh water. As soon 
as we had cleared the wreck of everything, even the bolts 
and beams, we began to take short exploring trips. We 
followed up wandering Wiggle Brook until we came to a 
cool spring in the forest, on a considerable hill. This hill, 
since we found in the mud near the spring a human foot- 
step, we named Foot-step Hill. Here we pitched our camp, 
hither removed our possessions. 

After a while we pastured our flocks and herds in the 
Grassy Meadow to the east of us, but being much troubled 
by wild beasts, and still fearing wild men, we finally re- 
moved our whole establishment to a Tree House and stock- 
ade which we built on the higher hills farther from the 
water. We still overlooked the sea, however, and our 
American flag waved constantly aloft as a signal to any 
passing ship. 

There is not time to tell you of the strange way a young 
Prince of the Island came and made his home with us, and 
first made us aware of the bloodthirsty tribe that lived over 
the lofty Donjon Mountains toward the south. Nor can I 


relate the life story of the venerable white hermit, believed 
by those savages a demon of witchcraft, who dwelt at the 
top alone, in his mountain cave. Are not all these written 
in the Chronicles of the New Crusoe by Archie, Davie, and 

The story still goes on. Often we take up the book 
and find, in a child's laggard handwriting, a new adventure 
or a bold sketch of some fresh affray. 

At any time of day or night, one needs only make 
some such remarks as, "Do you remember what we did the 
morning we found the charmed necklace at the foot of the 
tree in the stockade?" and they are off like a shot. Some- 
times they seem to live two lives alongside at once. 

All this, as may be imagined, makes an introduction 
not only to good books, but also to fullness of life. 

The way stories run on into dramatic play is subject 
for another monograph. The author once had an experi- 
ence with a group of boys who became interested in Hia- 
watha and wanted to dramatize it. He supposed it was to 
be a month's task, but the preparations, involving all kinds 
of handicraft in scene-making and costumes, took all winter. 
There was, in his experience, hardly a lively story that did 
not appear soon in his children's play, and sometimes in dis- 
tinctive dramatic efforts in the way of "family shows," that 
were both respectable and amusing. 


This sort of dramatic-play-story telling is especially 
appropriate to the quiet home occupations of Sunday. In 
a little book by John T. Paris, entitled "Pleasant Sunday 
Afternoons for the Children," published by the Sunday 
School Times Co., two actual instances of such story-play 
are given, one for outdoors and one for indoors. 

"The children liked to illustrate Bible stories as they 
gathered in the shade. Mother, sitting in her rocker, would 


assign a little space in which they could fit up a Garden of 
Eden, and while the children went here and there through 
the yard to find little branches for trees and clover or other 
wild blossoms for flowers, she could catch many moments 
for her own reading. When these branches and flowers 
had been set up in the grass in the place assigned, and the 
children's imagination had transformed it all into a beautiful 
Eden, mother would again come into demand to prepare 
a whole menagerie of animals all cut out roughly with 
scissors from common newspapers, varying little in shape, 
but easily transformed, by imagination, into creatures which 
the children took pleasure in naming. A paper man and 
woman were last made, and the whole story gone over care- 
fully, the children themselves telling it. 

"The story of David and Goliath was one they par- 
ticularly enjoyed the whole thing being made very vivid 
by tents for the two armies (just points of paper with a 
common base, which could be grouped in any desired shape 
in the grass), soldiers galore (paper dolls cut as our mothers 
used to cut them with hands and bodies joined), the tall 
Philistine with his large spear and the diminutive David 
with his sling. 

''The baby Moses in the bulrushes furnished a beautiful 
lesson of God's care for the children. How interesting to 
weave the little basket from grasses gathered by the boys ; 
to imagine the tiny flower placed within it to be the baby 
Moses ; to set the ark among the imaginary rushes, in an 
imaginary river; and to place another flower in hiding to 
represent the devoted sister who daily watched the little ark 
with its precious occupant! 

"In stormy or wintry weather the game may be played 
indoors as follows: Let two or three breadths of carpet 
represent the Holy Land, while two strings running parallel 
form the Jordan River; drawn apart, these may represent 
the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. Let the site of Jeru- 
salem be marked by a temple made of building blocks. A 
small rug or a piece of cloth will serve as a wilderness." 


Here is the indoor plan. 

"Nearly every child has a box of blocks, and from 
these a Noah's Ark can be constructed while telling the 
story. Then, taking paper and scissors, fashion paper dolls 
of various sizes to represent Noah's family, or you can 
purchase the little wooden images of men if you desire. 
In simplest forms cut as many different animals as you have 
in mind. Clip the limbs and turn the leg pieces to right 
and left, that they may stand, to form the procession as they 
march into the ark. 

"The building of Solomon's Temple is another block 
device ; the picture of this may be found in any Bible dic- 
tionary, or you can procure the special Temple building 
blocks. So, too, one may help the little fingers to make a 
sheepfold, a well, an Eastern house with flat roof, the Old 
Testament Altar of Incense, the Ark of the Covenant (with 
crochet needles for the staff handles) and other objects of 
interest that will carry stories with them. 

"Childish? Yes, it is for the little child." 

The same animals, as the Sunday School Times book 
points out, may be used to illustrate stories from other parts 
of the Bible. Here is a list of a few of them. A little study 
will suggest more incidents in connection with the different 
animals. The children should always do their part, by find- 
ing the different animals to illustrate the story : 


Story of the Ark. 

Story of Joseph. 

Gen. 6:14, 18-21 

" 7:13-16 ARK 

" 8:6, 7.. RAVEN 

" 8:8-12 DOVE 

Gen. 37:2-36 JOSEPH 

" 37:25 CAMELS 

" 37:31, 32 GOATS 

" 42:1-26 ASSES 

" 42 :27, 28 

" 41:2-4, 17-21, 26-31. .CATTLE 

" 45:19-25 


fl Sam. 16:1-12, 17:12-33. . .DAVID 

Story of David -I LION 

17:34-37 BEAR 

Story of Queen of Sheba \ 1 Kings 10:1-10, 13 CAMELS 

Story of Rebekah J Gen. 24:1-59 

Story of Shunammite Woman, -j 2 Kings 4 : 18-37 Ass 

, _,.. . Jl Kings 17:1-24 RAVENS 

Story of Elijah j 18:17 _ 39 BULLOCK 

Story of Daniel 4 Dan. 6 :l-22 LION 

Story of the Shepherds -j Luke 2 :8-20 SHEEP 

Story of Wise Men -j Matt. 2:1-14 CAMELS 

Story of Christ -f Matt 21:1-11 ^.Ass 



Hamlet. What players be they? . . . 

Rosencrantz. An aerie of children, little eyasses, that cry out 
on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped f or't ; these 
are now the fashion. 

Hamlet. What! are they children? Who maintains them? 
Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing. 

William Shakespeare. 

Miss Bailey tells of a little girl of three who had been 
told by her nurse the well-known tale of "The Old Woman 
and Her Pig." A week later she was discovered, alone, 
standing dramatically in the center of the room, holding 
a toy broom under her arm, and shaking her finger at 
a small china pig that stood on the floor in front of her. 
She was saying over some words very energetically. 

"What are you doing?" asked her surprised mother. 

"I'm doing a story, mother," she replied. 

This instinct to do a story is universal, and it is very 
valuable. It illustrates again that axiom of education, 
Learning by doing. The child apprehends and holds much 
better that which he acts than what he merely hears. 

We saw the earliest expression of this instinct in our 
chapter on "Stories That Children Like," where ringer plays 
and action stories were the first kinds of stories enjoyed 
by babies. The baby himself was the rider on the cock 
horse, his fingers were the mice or the birds that crept 
or flew. 




This method is being employed in primary school, and 
where the teacher selects not merely what may be drama- 
tized but what should be dramatized the result is very 
happy. Julia Darrow Cowles in her "The Art of Story- 
Telling" gives a story entitled "A Lesson of Faith," and 
then shows how naturally and pleasantly one child after 
another will be selected to be the Caterpillar, the Butterfly, 
the Lark, etc. She shows the possibility of correct repre- 
sentation, which teaches close observation, when she re- 
minds us that the child can learn to remember that robins 
hop but crows walk. Dr. Arnold Gesell has shown how 
the power and range of such representation in a primary 
room develops: 

"Very soon the class will not be content with one 
player. The boy who is trying to represent the monkey 
will suggest that he have a hand-organ man; the hen will 
want chickens, and the scene will go naturally and easily 
without dictation. It is interesting to see how the children 
grow in power of representation and suggestion, and how 
naturally language begins to be the necessary accompani- 
ment of gesture. The language of the children will be 
pictorial and full of unexpected terms and phrases. At 
this stage of the work it will be found helpful to put a 
screen between the player and the class. Such a device 
adds a little mystery to the play. The effect that such 
work may have upon voice culture is most significant." 
The next step will be stories with simple plot. In perform- 
ing these it is not necessary to memorize, and it is undesir- 
able to do so. Miss Fry in her "Educational Dramatics" 
describes in a vivid way how a story-play evolves. Here 
is a bit of her monologue, in which we can easily imagine 
the interruptions of the children. The play is a variant 
of the Cinderella story: 

"Good ! Let's begin with the Market-Place ! And the 


crowd is there, as the story says. What will the crowd 
be doing? Buying and selling, and walking about and 
gossiping, as crowds always do anywhere ! Yes ! We 
can have chairs about, to be the shops, and Cicily will be 
in the crowd, of course, shabby and shy, because she is 
poor, and no one notices her. Oh, no! Not unhappy, 
because she is a merry creature, even if she is poor ! Bare- 
foot ? I s'pose so ! Rags ? Oh, let's plan the whole story 
first and what they do, and then think about clothes and 
other things, or we never shall be through and doing it ! 

"Now what happens? The Bellman's bell can sound 
outside the Square just as in the story, and we can hear 
him calling, 'Oh, Ye's! Oh, Ye's!' and the bell really 
ringing. Then what will happen ? The Bellman will march 
in, yes ! Ringing and calling, all the people of the place 
will come running, as the story says. What a lot more 
fun it will be to be doing it than just hearing about it! Oh, 
yes! of course they chatter at him. The story does not 
say that, but any one would know it." 


Mrs. Braucher recommends for story-playing the fol- 
lowing stories, some of which lend themselves to a more 
permanent form of acting: 


Sleeping Beauty. 

Hansel and Gretel. 

Jack and the Beanstalk. 

Snow White. 

The Elves and the Shoemaker. 

Eleven Wild Swans. 

Red Shoes. 

The Cat and the Parrot. 

The Golden Goose. 


King Arthur and Excalibur. 
The Hole in the Dike. 

Mrs. Lillian Edith Nixon, in her "Fairy Tales a Child 
Can Read and Act," recommends for children up to the 
second grade several stories as suitable for dramatizing: 

Little Red Riding Hood. 

Peter and the Magic Goose (original). 

The Blue Peacock. 

The Ant and the Cricket. 

Hansel and Gretel. 

Stories from Pinocchio. 

Scenes from Alice in Wonderland. 

Scenes from Through the Looking Glass. 

The following stories are so arranged as to bring first 
on the list those for young children and those that may be 
most easily dramatized and acted. They are furnished by 
the Carnegie Library of Pittsburg. 

Story of the Three Bears. 

The Elves and the Shoemaker. 


Bremen Town Musicians. 


Why the Chimes Rang. 

The Sleeping Beauty. 

Hansel and Gretel. 

Piper Tom. 

Snow White. 

The Pied Piper of Hamelin. 

How Good Gifts Were Used by Two. 

Gudebrand on the Hillside. 

Hans in Luck. 

What the Gudeman Does is Sure to be Right. 

How the Robins Came. 



Old Pipes and the Dryad. 

The books containing the stories referred to in the 
foregoing list are named in a special monthly bulletin of 
the library for December, 1913, which may be secured for 5c. 

By this time the play of the children begins to show 
the tendency to dramatize stories. They make believe that 
they are horses or heroes, they use their dolls as characters 
in free play of a story sort, they make backgrounds and 
accessories out of their playthings. They even carry on 
the narrative from day to day, evolving and changing the 
plot as they proceed. Instances of this are given in my 
"Manual of Play." They very commonly create imaginary 
playmates, and thus dramatize the actual life which they 


A completer expression of the desire to enter the world 
of imagination and people it with tangible personalities will 
be described in full in the story of Mary Lowe's bottle 
people in Part II. Another method which would probably 
seem a little more sophisticated than bottle-doll story-telling 
is that of the puppet theater. Nobody knows how old are 
the marionette theaters of Italy, which are attended still 
by old and young. We cannot trace back the origin of 
the Punch and Judy show, which represents an art well 
worth perpetuating but almost lost to us. Thirty years 
ago somebody put on the market a "Little Theater," with 
its proscenium, its drop curtain, wings, scenes and actors, 
furnished with play-sketches and adaptable to an infinite 
variety of original dramas. To an experienced bottle-doll 
artist such a miniature theater with its actors would be 
an easy task, and the suggestion of mystery in the curtain, 
the dramatic suspense occasioned by waiting for changes 
of scene and the opportunity for assuming the voices of 


several characters are tempting to a young Thespian. One 
may wonder why adult story-tellers do not revive in some 
form the puppet theater as an adjunct to some of their 
more dramatic tales. 


"Dressing up," pantomimes, "statues," dumb crambo, 
charades, are familiar expressions among children from 
eight to twelve of the dramatic instinct to do a story. Miss 
Perry suggests groups of plays, each one acted by one 
child only, which she names "Garlands." For instance, 
when grandmother comes to make a visit, she may be wel- 
comed with a garland of greetings. Each child represents 
something that is glad to welcome grandma, and all encircle 
her as they do so. One is a chicken, and struts and 
flutters, and one is a flower and spreads her skirts and 
acts like a flower. Miss Patten suggests that older children 
should enhance the family reunions by acting together the 
family history. One boy brings down his grandfather's 
uniform and enacts his military record, or all dress in their 
parents' wedding garments and impersonate their marriage 
ceremony, or re-enact in a good-natured way some of the 
family jokes. 

Of amateur theatricals, which are of course the most 
elaborate way of dramatizing stories, there is no need to 

A list of story-plays for children and of books on 
dramatics is given in Appendix IV. 



One mistake that is made by those who plot out charts 
for the moral training of children is that of assigning certain 
virtues to definite years. In a certain chart, for example, 
obedience may be dated as appropriate to the fourth year, 
when, as a matter of fact, it is a virtue necessary for 
self-protection up to the age when the child matures to 
the virtue of self-obedience. Loyalty has so many phases 
that it would be an untruth to place it at any one era of 
the child's life. The fact is that nearly all virtues are 
various phases of goodness appearing in deeper and finer 
manifestations as the years come on, and the endeavor 
should be not so much to grade the virtues as to grade the 
literary types of stories which appeal to the children of 
different ages. 

From what we know of child nature, stories, as to 
their literary character, should be presented in the following 
order : 

Stories with a sense appeal, 
Imaginative stories, 
Fairy tales 

Myths and legends 
Parables and allegories 
Realistic stories, 



Biographical stories, 
Romantic stories. 

It has been thought helpful to present a good type- 
story or two under each of these varieties, selected for 
its excellence of construction and arrangement as well as 
its moral forcefulness. 


Some may doubt that finger plays and nursery rhymes 
have any moral meaning. They recognize that the finger 
plays help coordinate the muscles and that the nursery 
rhymes encourage joy and fellowship between the mother 
and the child. But we think they do more. Most of the 
finger plays at the very least suggest that this is a world 
in which even little hands may be lovingly helpful. In- 
stance this one: 


Here's a little wash-bench (fingers make the bench), 

Here's a little tub (fingers make the tub), 
Here's a little scrubbing-board (fingers made the scrubbing-board) 

And here's the way to scrub (fingers start to rub). 
Here's a little cake of soap (with the closed fist), 

Here's a dipper new (fist with bent finger for handle). 
Here's a basket wide and deep (both arms down and fingers 

And here are clothespins two (two pairs of fingers for the prongs). 
Here's the line away up high (pointing), 

Here's the clothes all flying (flopping hands). 
Here's the sun so warm and bright (round space between hands), 

And now the washing's drying. 

And so the nursery rhymes, and especially the nursery 
songs, have their little lessons of kindness and gentleness 
and cheerfulness. You will at once think of, "I love pretty 
Pussy," "Tom Tom was a piper's son; he learned to play 


when he was young," "This is the Mother so kind and 
dear," etc., etc. 

No one, in the special field of child-sympathy with 
animals, has recently written with sweeter purpose and 
simplicity than A. L. Sykes (Mrs. Stephani Schutze), whose 
"Tiny Hare and His Friends," published by Little, Brown 
& Co., Boston, ought to be known by all mothers of little 
children. Here is a story of hers, called, "The Wee Hare 
and the Red Fire." It is full of sense appeals, of color, 
cold and warmth, light and darkness. 

One day in the cold time when he lay snug and warm 
by his Mama, Tiny Hare said : "Tell me of the hare who 
went step, step, step in the snow till he came to the RED 
FIRE." So his Mama gave him a hug and said : 

Once upon a time was a wise Wee Hare who knew 
how to run fast when MAN came by. He knew how to 
hide when DOG was near, and when he saw the dark 
spot in the sky that HAWK made, how fast he did jump 
to his Mama! But Wee Hare did not like to go out and 
run and jump and play in the sun. 

"I do not want to run and jump and play in the sun. 
I want to run far, far in the wood, and find the red bush. 
I have seen it away off in the dark. It is good for me to 
eat, I know." 

"It is FIRE," said his Mama. "Only MAN can 
make it, and it is not good for you. It can burn and hurt. 
You may eat the good food that you can find near our 
home," and she bit his ear for a kiss. 

"I do not want to eat the good food that I can see 
here. I want to do just as I like. I want to pick the red 
food from the red bush. I know it is like buds in the 
warm time." 

"Hush!" said Papa Hare, very low and deep. "You 
are not good. When you are good, and the moon is high 
in the sky, and it is just like day, I will take you far out 
in the wood, and you may run and jump and play and 
eat the food that is best for you." 


"I do not want to go out in the wood, and run and 
jump and play when the moon is high in the sky. I want 
to do just as I like. I want to eat the red buds from the 
red bush," said the Wee Hare. 

"Shut your eyes, and put your ears down, and take 
your nap," said his Mama. ''You are too tiny to go 
away from me. Now, hush, do not say one more word. 
The red bush is the RED FIRE. It can hurt and burn. 
MAN has it, and DOG is with man. They can hurt you, 
and if you run too far in the wood, WIND may blow 
too hard for a wee hare, and SNOW may come and bury 
you. Shut your eyes, and put your ears down and take 
your nap." 

It was noon; the sun was high in the sky. 

Good Papa Hare took his nap, and Mama Hare took 
her nap. The Wee Hare shut his eyes, and put his ears 
down, but he took no nap. By and by he went out of 
the door, and ran and ran till he came to the wood. Then 
he ran and ran in the wood, but he did not come to the 
RED FIRE, and he ran and ran and ran till his feet were 
sore, but he did not come to the RED FIRE, and he ran 
and ran and ran and ran till he was not able to run any 
more and no RED FIRE did he see. He lay down to 
rest in a bush, and very soon his eyes shut, and he did 
not see or hear, for it was long past the hour for his nap. 
When he woke SNOW lay on all the open ways of the 
wood. The Wee Hare gave a leap from his bush, for he 
knew that SNOW can grow deep and deep, and a wee 
hare cannot walk in it. How he did wish he was at home ! 

The sun was far down in the west, and its last rays 
lay red on the SNOW. Step, step, step went the lame 
Wee Hare in the cold SNOW. He went back into the 
woods to try to find his way home. It grew gray, and 
it grew dark, and SNOW grew so deep that Wee Hare 
had hard work to walk. Then WIND came! Step, step, 
step in the SNOW he went. The WIND blew more and 


"I cannot walk ; my feet are too lame," said the Wee 
Hare, and just then he saw the RED FIRE. It grew in 
the path in the wood, and by it sat MAN and DOG. Oh, 
how the Wee Hare felt! His nose grew hot, and ears 
grew cold, and he was not able to move. Then DOG said : 
''WOW!" and put fiis ears up, but MAN said: "Lie 
down," and DOG lay down by the RED FIRE. The Wee 
Hare went into a tiny, tiny hole in a tree, and sat on his 
feet to warm them. He saw the RED FIRE. He did 
not like to see it. MAN and DOG did not let it come 
too near them, and he saw them keep away from the 

''They fear it, too," said the Wee Hare. "It is not 
good for me. I must take care or it will come and hurt 
me." He sat on his cold feet, and did not dare to take 
a nap. 

By and by MAN put SNOW over the RED FIRE, 
and he and DOG went away, and the Wee Hare went step, 
step, step in the snow, soft, soft, soft,. for fear. 

"I wish I had been good," said the Wee Hare, and WIND 
and SNOW were able to hear, and they felt sad for the 
Wee Hare. 

"We will help him," they said, but low and soft so 
he did not hear. The moon came up high in the sky till 
it was just like day, and it grew very cold. SNOW grew 
hard as ice in the cold, and the Wee Hare did not sink 
in it any more. WIND did not blow so hard. It came 
back of Wee Hare now, push, push, push, to help the 
Wee Hare over the SNOW. How fast he went hop, 
skip and jump! Soon he came to his home. How glad 
he was ! He went in and lay down by his Mama. 

"I have not been good, Mama," he said, very low in 
her ear. 

"Be good now, then," his Mama said, and he did not 
know how glad she was to have him back. 

"I want to be good," said the Wee Hare; and he 


shut his eyes, and put his ears down, and they all took 
a nap till the dawn came. 

"Just like us," said Tiny Hare, and he was glad that 
he lay snug and warm by his Mama, and he was glad she 
had told him the tale of the Wee Hare and the RED FIRE. 


It is not necessary for the success of a fairy story 
as an aid in character-building that the incidents should 
be distant and improbable. Indeed if they be taken from 
the daily life of the child, and the only imaginative element 
be the good fairy herself, we have sometimes a model story 
for a purpose. Such an one is "The Fairy Who Came 
to Our House," meant to help make a very helpful little 
girl. The charming surprise at the close makes the story 
all the more memorable. 


There was once a dear little girl who lived in our 
house. She was quite loving and sweet and truthful. She 
would have been a dear, dear little girl, but for one thing 
she was a wee bit careless. It was just about little things, 
you know. Perhaps it might be drying the cups until 
they shone. Perhaps it might be dusting the undermost 
places, like the rungs of the chairs and the piano legs. 
Perhaps it might be giving fresh milk to Taffy, the black 
pussy-cat. Perhaps it might be leaving the old rag doll 
out in the weather all night. The old rag doll had rheu- 
matism, and a night out in the dew made it worse. A dear, 
dear little girl would have remembered these things, but 
our dear little girl forgot. 

One morning she woke very early, but the sun was 
behind a cloud, and the fog crept into the nursery. She 
began to forget things before breakfast. 


"Oh, where is my red hair ribbon?" she said. "And 
where is my shoe string?" 

After breakfast she wanted to make a little saucer pie 
with mother, in the kitchen. Just as she put it in the 
oven she thought of her unmade bed upstairs. Before she 
had half finished the bed she remembered that grandmother 
was waiting to have her spectacles found. Then the door 
bell rang, and she just had to run and see who it was. It 
was just a short way to the end of the garden ; she really 
had to run to the gate and see if next-door Helen were at 

Ah, the broken shoe string was in the way ! The dear 
little girl tumbled down in the garden path and bumped 
her poor little nose. And the saucer pie burned black in 
the oven, the bed was not made, and grandmother had no 

As she sat up in the garden path, crying two big tears, 
who should she see on the stone beside her (there had been 
no one there before) but a tiny old woman. I think she 
was just three inches high, and she wore a long red cloak 
and a little red hood, and she carried a crooked little cane. 
Her face Was as brown and wrinkled as a last fall's oak- 
leaf. She rapped on the stone with her cane, as she said: 
"What are you crying about, little girl?" 

"Oh," sobbed the dear little girl, "I want to not forget 
so many things." 

"Run right into the house," said the fairy for she 
was a fairy. "I am going to help you all day long." 

The dear little girl rubbed her eyes. There was no 
fairy upon the stone only two wee footprints so she 
jumped up and ran into the house. 

The first thing she spied was a pair of shiny spectacles 
under the hall rack. Grandmother was so pleased to have 
them. As the little girl came down stairs again she heard 
a squeaky laugh. There was a red cloak on the staircase 
and some one said: 


"Hurry, hurry, kitchen trouble, 
Kettle wants to boil and bubble." 

So the little girl ran down to the kitchen and filled the 
old copper tea kettle, who sat fussing upon the stove, 
because he was empty. As she put on the cover, whom 
should she see standing upon the spout but the little figure 
in a red cloak, and this is what she heard: 

"Run and set the plates for lunch, 
Knives and forks are in a bunch." 

Yes, the table did need setting. When it was all done, 
there was the fairy on the sideboard, twirling around 
like a Japanese top and saying : 

"Dolly's things are such a sight ! 
Put the bureau drawers to right." 

So the little girl flew up stairs to the nursery. She 
packed the doll's dresses in the trunk. She folded all the 
hair ribbons in the top drawer, and there was the lost red 
one at the very bottom. 

All day long, the fairy kept reminding her of things 
to do. After lunch there she was sitting on the edge of 
mother's darning basket, looking like a red Dutch cheese, 
and saying: 

"Holes to be mended, and darning begun ; 
Find mother's needles and pins, every one." 

Toward evening there she was on the arm of father's 
easy-chair, saying: 

"Father is coming. Now, quick as can be, 
Lay out his slippers and book before tea." 

The little girl was very tired by bedtime, but it had 
been a busy, happy day. She sat in her little chair by 


the nursery fire, and rocked, and wondered if it could all 
have been a dream; when pop there was the little old 
woman in the red cloak, dancing upon a red coal, and 
saying : 

"Look in the box on the bureau, my dear; 
And try to remember as long as a year." 

So the dear little girl looked in the box on the bureau, 
and there, inside, was a little gold wishing-ring, and it said 
on the bow : "From all the family in our house, for a dear, 
dear little girl who tried to remember." 

And the queer little fairy never came again; but that 
was because she didn't need to. 

If the purposive story is to be very helpful, it must, 
of course, be remembered. There are one or two devices 
by which a story may be made memorable. One of these 
is the device of repetition, using a special phrase several 
times in a narrative. Another common device is that of 
arranging that there shall be three incidents before the 
denouement. Both these devices are implied in the familiar 
story of the three bears, in which the phrases "Who's been 
eating of my porridge?", "Who's been sitting in my 
chair?", etc., bringing forth replies in three tones of voice 
from the three bears and in which each of the bears engages 
in three experiments before they finally discover the little 
girl. The following story of "Little Blue Gown and the 
Butterfly," adapted from a set of rhymes that appeared 
once in St. Nicholas, also illustrates the employment of 
both of these devices. Everything in the story is "little" 
and "blue," and that favorite color runs like a motif through 
the narrative. Blue Gown also has three sad adventures 
before she finally comes to the happy one. 


In a dear little house with a little blue gate at the 
foot of a grassy meadow there once lived a nice little 


girl. She was called Little Blue Gown, because the only 
frock she had to wear, week days and Sundays, was a little 
old gown of blue. It was very ragged, because she had 
worn it so long, and although she had mended it as best 
she could, still it did not look very nice. She lived all 
alone, except for a little old cat, and sometimes she was 
very lonely; but she used to say, "I mustn't mind that." 

One day the little blue gown girl heard a knock at the 
door which frightened her very much, because nobody ever 
came to her house. On the floor she found a little blue 
letter which said: "Dear Little What's- Your-Name ; I 
know how good you are, for I come and watch you every 
morning and night, and I have got a beautiful new frock 
for you with a sash to tie around it, only you have got 
to go with me and find it. Whatever happens, don't lose 
heart, and I will promise to help you and bring you safely 
back. Follow my small blue messenger boy wherever you 
see him. Wishing you great joy, Yours ever, The Fairy 

You can imagine how delighted Little Blue Gown was 
when she finished this charming letter. She clapped her 
hands and danced up and down. Then she washed up her 
little plate and cup, tidied up her little room and brushed 
up the fireplace, and then ran out-doors and looked around. 
She couldn't spy any messenger anywhere, but on the 
flowers at the gate was a small blue butterfly. So she 
went out through the garden gate, saying to herself, "I 
don't know where to go, but I will go on. I shall find 
him soon, I am sure." 

So she went right on and on until she came to the 
mill. On the steps of the mill was the miller's boy, named 
Will. She said, "Have you happened to see a fairy mes- 
senger pass ? He has a pretty new frock for me." 

But Will said, "You silly goose! Here is the only 
frock you'll get," and he threw a flour sack down on her 
shoulders. She was covered from head to foot with flour, 
and Will burst into a loud laugh, and jeered with all his 


might. "That is as pretty a new frock as ever I saw," 
he said. 

Then Little Blue Gown turned sadly away. There was 
nobody to guide her and she did not notice the butterfly, 
although it kept close to her. So she went on and on until 
she came to the house of the chimney sweep. The chimney 
sweep boy, Mark, was at the window looking out. She 
said, "Have you seen a fairy messenger in blue go by? 
He has got a pretty new frock for me." But he cried, 
"Here is a fine new suit for you," and he threw a sooty 
sack down on her shoulders. So now she was all black 
from head to foot, and Mark said, "How do you like the 
soot?" Then Little Blue Gown again went her way, trying 
to smile, and she never noticed all the time that the butterfly 
was above her. 

So she went straight on and on, and by and by she 
came to the Four-Winds-Cross-Roads. Wasn't that a funny 
name for a place? She sat down by the guide post and 
cried, because she did not know which way to go. Down 
the North Road, blue speedwell grew ; down the East Road 
grew bluebells; on the South Road, blue succory, but in 
the West Road nothing grew. At least, there was only a 
little tiny brook. So Little Blue Gown sat there crying, 
for she was speckled with soot and mottled with flour and 
covered with dust. Finally she said, "I must stay here 
for a half hour. I must get clean I must. What would 
the fairy queen say if she saw me now?" She took off 
her frock and washed it in the brook. It took a long, long 
time. Then she hung it up in a sunny place on a leafy 
bough. She washed her hands and face and said, "Now 
I feel better." 

She had thought that no flowers grew along the West 
Road, but now she saw a lot of them. There were masses 
of blue along the brook and they were all forget-me-nots, 
and down among the forget-me-nots, now flying high and 
now low, was a little blue butterfly, just as blue as the 
blossoms were. 


She was just putting on her frock again when she 
saw a boy, a Gypsy boy, in a ragged coat of blue. She 
cried out, "Oh, oh, are you the messenger of the fairy 
queen?" He answered, "I don't know what you mean by 
that. I am just trying to catch this butterfly, and it has 
led me such a chase." Pretty soon he caught it, and 
would have killed it had not Little Blue Gown cried, "Oh, 
what a pity! Don't hurt it! Give it to me." "Give me 
your blue necklace," said the boy, "and I'll give you the 

Now these blue beads were the only treasure that 
Little Blue Gown ever had, but she said, although it made 
her very sad, "Yes, I'll give you my necklace with pleasure 
if you give me the butterfly." So she took it off and the 
Gypsy lad ran away with the blue beads. But the little 
blue girl felt very happy with the butterfly on her hand. 

All at once the butterfly rose up bigger and bigger, and 
by and by he said to her, "Mount and ride me. I am the 
fairy messenger. I have been all the time close beside 
you !" So she climbed on his back and rode away and 
away, over hills and fields. When they went high and 
she became dizzy she held all the tighter and shut her eyes 
for fear she might drop. By and by they came to her 
own little door. Had the messenger made a mistake? But 
no. Little Blue Gown went in and her poor little room 
was filled with the prettiest things. There were chairs and 
curtains and carpets, all of blue, and little blue plates and 
cups, and blue flowers in pots and blue tiles in the walls, 
her bed was as blue as forget-me-nots, and hanging from 
a chair was the very loveliest frock of blue that you 
ever saw. 

The butterfly said, "They are all for you. They were 
sent by the fairy queen." And now Little Blue Gown was 
indeed surprised. The butterfly had turned into a fairy 
boy, ever so pretty and slim, and he said, "I hope you 
are pleased !" and he seized both her hands in his and 
merrily they danced around. 


So Little Blue Gown will never be lonely any more. 
She has fairy food to eat, fairy flowers in front of her 
little door, and fairy furniture in her house, and the butter- 
fly boy comes and brings her presents, and sometimes 
gives her rides on his wings. Sometimes he stops to tea. 


In a certain sense, mythical heroes are almost truer 
than life itself, that is, they have gathered in the course of 
the years so much of concreteness and definiteness that 
they represent more distinctly certain types of character 
than any actual individual, living or dead. They are also 
skilfully simple. That has been done with them which we 
shall find has to be done with a real biography in order 
to make it morally effective: only so much is told as is 
necessary to make one particular moral impression. 

Of all legends none have been greater favorites 
with or more helpful to young people than those of King 
Arthur. Each of the Round Table Knights represents in 
his ideals and adventures a separate type of character, the 
King himself is Conscience, and the whole cycle is closely 
parallel in spirit to the chivalrous, generous desires of boys 
and girls. As a continued story, to be told in chapters and 
with somewhat of the leisureliness and largeness of Malory, 
it is matchless. It takes a good deal of it to build up a 
total moral impression. We have selected a single incident, 
however, somewhat unfamiliar, which deserves to stand 
alone. It has been somewhat rewritten, in the interest of 
better construction and directness. 


Once when King Arthur was sitting at court a tall, 
sturdy youth made his appearance and asked for an 


"I have come," he said, "to be made a knight. My 
name is Breunor, and my father was a noble lord, so you 
will do right to grant me this favor." 

"Be that as it may," said the king, "but I must know 
more of you before I make you a knight. Why wear you 
this great coat of gold cloth?" he inquired, for over his 
shoulders the youth had a richly embroidered coat of cloth 
of gold, which was too large for him and which hung 
awkwardly from his shoulders. 

"This is the coat of my father. One day he was slain 
treacherously while he was asleep, and I have sworn to 
wear this cloak, with these sword strokes upon it, until 
I have revenged his foul death. Now, O King, I pray you 
again, make me a knight, so that I may go forth on my 

Some of the older knights then made entreaty for the 
young man, and at length the king promised to make him 
a knight the following day. Breunor was then sent to 
/Kay the Seneschal, the sharp-tongued knight who had all 
the young squires in charge. When he saw the lad, at 
once he began to laugh at him in the presence of the other 
youths and promptly nicknamed him "Sir La Cote Male 
Taile," or "Sir Ill-Fitting Coat." 

The next morning while the king and his knights were 
at the hunt and the fair ladies of the court were walking 
on the terrace, a large lion that had been kept in a tower 
at one end of the plaisaunce broke loose and began leaping 
across the terrace. The queen and her ladies fled in the 
wildest haste. Then a tall youth sprang out from the 
company of squires that were seated by the wall, with 
sword in hand, and cleft the beast's head at a single blow. 

When the king returned he gave Breunor, for it was 
he, high praise for his quickness and courage. "As I am 
king," he said, "you shall prove a most noble and valiant 
knight, and one of the most worthy to sit with me at the 
Table Round." Then he commanded him to kneel, and 
dubbed him knight and called him Sir Breunor. 


"Nay, an it please you," said the young man, "I will 
be known by no other name than that of 'La Cote Male 
Taile/ by which Sir Kay hath christened me, that my quest 
may ever be in my mind." To this the king and his 
knights agreed, and he was so called among them. 

That very day a damsel rode into the court, bearing 
with her a huge black shield, on one side of which was 
painted a mailed hand holding a sword. Its owner had 
been worsted by a still mightier knight, she said, and he 
had committed his shield to her that she might find a 
champion who should fulfil his quest. As the knights 
thought of the strength and valor of -one who could carry 
a shield greater than this one, there was a silence. Then 
La Cote Male Taile strode forward and claimed his right, 
as the latest made knight, to ride forth upon this quest. 
She warned him that this would be no light summer day's 
adventure. "Then it is all the more to my liking," he 

The two had not gone far on their journey when they 
saw Dagonet, the king's jester, speeding hard after them 
on the back of a donkey. He bore in his hands a lath. 
La Cote Male Taile understood at once that this was a 
piece of Sir Kay's doings, to make him ridiculous in the 
damsel's eyes. So he smote the fool lightly with his palm 
and sent him headlong over the donkey's neck. But the 
damsel laughed at him for jousting with a fool, and told 
him he would be ashamed when Dagonet told the story 
at the court. To this he made no reply. 

Thrice that day knights from the court met him and 
jousted with him. He entreated each of them to engage 
with him in sword play on foot, since he had not yet learned 
to handle himself on a horse. But they all declined, and 
he was thrown by each of them in turn. These mishaps 
caused the damsel to laugh at him more than ever, and 
when Sir Modred> the king's nephew, joined them, she rode 
by his side and quite ignored the young Cote Male Taile. 

By and by they came to a famous stronghold known 


as Castle Orgulous. As they approached, two knights 
dashed across the drawbridge against them, with their 
lances couched. The one who met Sir Modred smote him 
off the bridge and into the moat. The other unhorsed La 
Cote Male Taile, but, guarding himself as he fell, he jumped 
upon the steed of Sir Modred and pursued his enemy into 
the castle itself, and there slew him. 

Then, standing by the body of the dead knight, La Cote 
Male Taile found himself facing a host of knights who had 
gathered around him. Leaping from the horse, he led the 
animal through the gateway, and dashed back, sword in 
hand, to meet his opponents. Against these terrible odds 
he fought, until a score of knights fell around him, but it 
seemed impossible that he should defeat them all. Then 
the damsel, who had been holding his own horse, called 
to him to escape with her through the postern gate. Throw- 
ing her and then himself upon the horse's back, they made 
for this gate, through which they passed unscathed. But 
after a time their horse, doubly laden, was overtaken by 
the knights of Castle Orgulous on fresh horses and La 
Cote Male Taile and the damsel were taken prisoners. 

Now when Sir Launcelot of the Lake had heard that 
the older knights had allowed one so young to take upon 
himself this terrible quest of the Black Shield, he was very 
wroth, and he spurred after La Cote Male Taile, to see 
whether he could be of any service to him. When he 
reached Castle Orgulous he challenged each of the knights 
of the castle to combat and having overthrown them one 
after another he ordered that all the prisoners in the castle 
should be released. Among them he found La Cote Male 
Taile and the damsel. 

As they rode away Sir Launcelot reproached the dam- 
sel for the scornful words which he had heard that she 
had spoken to her champion. "For," he said, "this youth 
is one of the bravest knights I have ever known, and for 
love of him I followed, to succor him in his hour of need." 

Then the damsel confessed with many blushes and 


tears that she had treated him so scornfully because she 
loved him too, and had hoped by this means to dissuade him 
from this quest, which she feared he would never live to 
accomplish. At this La Cote Male Taile was exceedingly 
glad, for he himself loved the damsel who was the fairest 
he had ever seen. 

And now the damsel and Sir Launcelot supposed that 
Sir La Cote Male Taile would accompany them back to 
the court, but when they came to a certain cross-roads he 
started to leave them. When they both remonstrated he 
pointed to the Black Shield on his arm and reminded the 
damsel that this was the way she had pointed out to 
Castle Surluse, where lived the knight who had overcome 
the owner of this Black Shield, and that he could not 
return until he had fulfilled his quest. Neither would he 
permit the damsel or Sir Launcelot to go with him. 

So he rode alone to Castle Surluse, where he sum- 
moned forth the knight of the castle to combat. And after 
a terrible fight on horse and foot, in which he received 
many terrible wounds, but did not a whit abate the vigor 
of his blows, he vanquished the knight who had slain 
the owner of the Black Shield. And when he opened 
the visor of his adversary he found that he had slain 
the murderer of his father. 

After the castle was thus delivered into his hands and 
he had freed its prisoners, he rode slowly and fainting 
back to the court. Here the damsel tenderly nursed him. 
And now La Cote Male Taile was given great lands by 
King Arthur, and after a time he wedded the damsel 
for whom he had achieved the adventure of the Black 

When he was fully come to man's estate the young 
knight filled out to the full the coat of his father, but he 
still continued to be called La Cote Male Taile, in honor 
of his courage when a lad. But there was one knight who 
never called him La Cote Male Taile and that was Sir 
Kay the Seneschal. 



As has already been intimated, parables and allegories 
present the difficulty that many children insist on taking 
them literally and see in them no more than the bare inci- 
dents of the story. But they are such favorites with us 
who are older and there are so many of them at hand 
that we are tempted to use them if possible. And, with 
skill, it is possible. Let us give some special attention to 
the use of analogies in moral training, and to make our 
suggestions concrete examine carefully a few unusually 
good examples. 

We have said that the inner meaning of the allegory 
is not always appreciated by young children. Some of 
them, however, have more insight than we give them credit 
for, and this insight is stimulated if there be a touch of 
humor in the narrative. A bit of humor is an antidote 
both to false sentiment on the part of the parent and to an 
untrue impression on the mind of the child. It has a 
happy effect in bringing the child en rapport with the story- 
teller. When he sees the twinkle in the narrator's eye he 
gets ready for sympathetic listening. This element of the 
unexpected is illustrated in the somewhat familiar parable 
of 'The Magic Shirt." It would take only the shortest 
questioning at the close to help the child to the answer, that 
happiness does not necessarily depend upon the possession 
of a shirt, Or indeed of many other supposed necessities. 
The stimulus to the correct answer is given in the humor 
that wakes up the mind and makes it intent and appreciative. 


Once a king lay dying. The doctors had done all they 
could for him, and declared that nothing could save him. 
The king was not willing to believe that his time was 


come. He sent for a certain wise man, and asked him 
what he must do to get well. 

The wise man said, "O king, if thou couldst wear the 
shirt of a truly happy man for one night, thou wouldst 
recover." This was as much as to say that the king was 
dying of discontent. 

Hearing this, the officers of the king sent out to search 
the kingdom for a truly happy man. They found none 
for a long time. 

Some men complained because they were poor, and 
some who had riches felt their wealth a burden. Some 
were "worked to death," as they said, and some were un- 
happy because they had nothing to do. Some had none 
to love them, and some had families larger than they could 

At last a man was found who complained of nothing 
and confessed that he was always happy. But he had no 
shirt ! 

When the king heard this, he arose from his bed, saying 
he would live a simple life and never be discontented again. 

Children have to be a little older in order to appreciate 
analogies that are spiritual rather than material. Even 
then we who tell them such stories are likely to err in 
two ways : our analogy is not perfect or else it is indefinite. 
The analogy is imperfect because we have not clearly 
enough seen what we wish to teach and it is indefinite 
because we are trying to teach several truths with one story. 
Here is a story that was told by Maud Lindsay in "Mother 
Stories," published by Milton Bradley Co., who desired 
to show a girl, of perhaps twelve, the tragedy that comes 
if a child breaks the bonds of confidence between her- 
self and her mother. In the following beautiful para- 
ble of "The Closing Door," the analogy is both definite 
and complete, and the tenderness of affection manifested 
in the story is bound to be deeply appealing to the feelings. 



There was once a little girl (her best and sweetest 
name was Little Daughter), who had a dear little room, 
all her own, which was full of treasures, and was as lovely 
as love could make it. 

You never could imagine, no matter how you tried, a 
room more beautiful than hers ; for it was white an4 shining 
from the snowy floor to the ceiling, which looked as if it 
might have been made of a fleecy cloud. The curtains at 
the windows were like the petals of a lily, and the little 
bed was like swan's down. 

There were white pansies, too, that bloomed in the 
windows, and a dove whose voice was sweet as music; 
and among her treasures she had a string of pearls which 
she was to wear about her neck when the king of the 
country sent for her, as he had promised to do some day. 

This string of pearls grew longer and more beautiful 
as the little girl grew older, for a new pearl was given 
her as soon as she waked up each morning ; and every 
one was a gift from this king, who bade her keep them 

Her mother helped her to take care of them and of 
all the other beautiful things in her room. Every morning, 
after the new pearl was slipped on the string, they would 
set the room in order ; and every evening they would look 
over the treasures and enjoy them together, while they 
carefully wiped away any specks of dust that had gotten 
in during the day and made the room less lovely. 

There were several doors and windows, which the little 
girl could open and shut just as she pleased, in this room; 
but there was one door which was always open, and that 
was the one which led into her mother's room. 

No matter what Little Daughter was doing she was 
happier if her mother was near; and although she some- 
times ran away into her own room and played by herself, 
she always bounded out at her mother's first call, and 


sprang into her mother's arms, gladder than ever to be 
with her because she had been away. 

Now, one day when the little girl was playing alone, 
she had a visitor who came in without knocking, and 
who seemed, at first, very much out of place in the shining 
white room, for he was a goblin and as black as a lump 
of coal. He had not been there more than a very few 
minutes, however, before nearly everything in the room 
began to look more like him and less like driven snow; 
and although the little girl thought that he was very strange 
and ugly when she first saw him, she soon grew used to 
him, and found him an entertaining playfellow. 

She wanted to call her mother to see him, but he said : 
"Oh! no; we are having such a nice time together, and 
she's busy, you know." So the little girl did not call; and 
the mother, who was making a dress of fine lace for her 
darling, did not dream that a goblin was in the little white 

The goblin did not make any noise, you know, for he 
tiptoed all the time, as if he were afraid; and if he heard 
a sound he would jump. But he was a merry goblin, 
and he amused the little girl so much that she did not 
notice the change in her dear room. 

The curtains grew dingy, the floor dusty, and the 
ceiling looked as if it might have been made of a rain 
cloud ; but the child played on, and got out all her treasures 
to show her visitor. 

The pansies drooped and faded, the white dove hid 
its head beneath its wing and moaned; and the last pearl 
on the precious string grew dark when the goblin touched 
it with his smutty fingers. 

"Oh, dear me!" said the little girl when she saw this. 
"I must call my mother; for these are the pearls that I 
must wear to the king's court, when he sends for me." 

"Never mind," said the goblin, "we can wash it, and 
if it isn't just as white as before, what difference does it 
make about one pearl?" 


"But mother says that they all must be as fair as 
the morning/' insisted the little girl, ready to cry. "And 
what will she say when she sees this one?" 

"You shut the door then," said the goblin, pointing to 
the door that had never been closed, "and I'll wash the 
pearl." So the little girl ran to close the door, and the 
goblin began to rub the pearl ; but it only seemed to grow 
darker. Now the door had been open so long that it was 
hard to move, and it creaked on its hinges as the little girl 
tried to close it. When the mother heard this she looked 
up to see what was the matter. She had been thinking 
about the dress which she was making; but when she saw 
the closing door, her heart stood still with fear; for she 
knew that if it once closed tight she might never be able 
to open it again. 

She dropped her fine laces and ran toward the door 
calling, "Little Daughter! Little Daughter! Where are 
you ?" and she reached out her hands to stop the door. But 
as soon as the little girl heard that loving voice she 
answered : 

"Mother, oh, Mother! I need you so! My pearl is 
turning black and everything is wrong !" and flinging the 
door wide open she ran into her mother's arms. 

When the two went together into the little room, the 
goblin had gone. The pansies now bloomed again, and 
the white dove cooed in peace; but there was much work 
for the mother and daughter, and they rubbed and scrubbed 
and washed and swept and dusted, till the room was so 
beautiful that you would not have known that a goblin 
had been there except for the one pearl, which was a 
little blue always, even when the king was ready for Little 
Daughter to come to his court, although that was not 
until she was a very old woman. 

As for the door, it was never closed again; for Little 
Daughter and her mother put two golden hearts against it 
and nothing in this world could have shut it. 

While it is often said that "no parable will go on all 


fours," and we appreciate that no analogy should be pressed 
too far, yet especially when homely incidents are chosen 
they should be true to facts, at least to the extent of reason- 
able conviction to the audience. E. P. St. John cites, as 
a failure in this respect, a parable in which someone, desir- 
ing to emphasize the thought that goodness dries up unless 
its sources are fed, told the story of a western town that 
received all its v/ater from a cistern on a hilltop. Suddenly 
the pipes ran dry, the inhabitants suffered and finally were 
all getting ready to move aw*ay, when a tramp came along 
and showed them how a pal of his had plugged the pipe 
below the cistern. The trouble here, as St. John says, 
is that we are so irritated by the unreasonableness of the 
narrative that we lose its moral force. While the story- 
teller is enlarging upon the distress of the citizens and 
their decision to give up the town, our common sense is 
telling us, 'That is not the way people would act; they 
would send for a plumber." Our analogies should not 
only be homely but they should be reasonable. 

The trouble, too, with the parable often is that the 
analogy is so far-fetched as to deal with such unfamiliar 
incidents that they are not impressive to the child. One 
reason why the parables of Jesus are the most perfect ever 
told is because they had to do with the everyday occupa- 
tions, the common occurrences of life, the birds, the beasts 
and the blossoms. (The telling of Bible stories is reserved 
for another chapter.) 

What we have been saying about parables may be 
summarized as follows: 

1. With young children the analogy should be quite 

literal, having to do with the child's familiar ex- 
periences and occupations. 

2. Later the analogy may be more spiritual, but it should 

be complete and definite; that is, it should be true, 
and it should bear but one application. 


3. In all parables it is helpful if there may be the element 
of humor, awakening the sympathy of the child with 
the story-teller and the alertness of the child to 
the meaning of the story. 




A good realistic story is hard to find. When it is 
interesting it is likely to fail in moral appeal, and if it 
has a strong moral appeal it is likely not to be interesting. 
In searching for realistic stories, it is especially important 
that they should touch the actual life of the child. The 
popular books which are intended for the moral uplift 
of children usually dwell upon anecdotes taken from the 
lives of great merchants or inventors. 

The writer has recently been examining, in the search 
for this sort of material, a handbook for teaching morals 
through biography, which claims to have been sold to 
over ten thousand public schools in America. In almost 
every case the instances were drawn from such sources 
as Roman history, Revolutionary patriotism or large intel- 
lectual and commercial success. The cases in which the 
ordinary occupations and situations of men and boys were 
alluded to might be counted on one's fingers. 

Dr. Coe very sensibly says: "Does anyone really 
believe that Willie Green of the fifth grade will study his 
lessons because John Wanamaker, Thomas A. Edison, and 
Luther Burbank work hard in their respective occupations ? 
Willie is engaged with functions which to him are different 
from those of merchant, inventor, and naturalist. At some 
point in his course it will, perhaps, be worth while for him 



to study the career of Mr. Wanamaker in order to see 
what a merchant does for society, and how he does it; 
Mr. Edison's career, to see what an inventor does for 
society, and how he does it; and Mr. Burbank's career, to 
see how the breeds of plants and of animals can be im- 
proved, and why they should be improved; but if you 
wish to make eleven-year-old Willie Green enjoy hard study, 
you must find your leverage in something that he can 
recognize as his own present good." 

It is the life with which the child is in contact that 
constitutes primarily the material for his growth. Such 
material is always at hand. At the corner is a policeman. 
What does the policeman do, and why does he do it ? Down 
the street is a grocer. What does the grocer do, and why 
does he do it? What does a nickel theater, a bill-board, a 
railroad, a newspaper do? "Here is the material upon 
which the children are actually forming their character, 
whether we will or no." Out of this material, near at 
hand, and in which the child is already interested, we are 
to build our realistic stories. Coe cites this instance: "A 
boy was throwing stones at a street lamp. A passerby said, 
'Why do you wish to break your father's lamp?' 'It isn't 
my father's lamp!' replied the boy. 'Who pays for street 
lamps, then?' was the rejoinder. A not less pointed exam- 
ple of the effect of defining one's purpose to one's self is 
this: Get a boy to tell you what he really wants in the 
next game of baseball that he plays, and you will draw 
out of him the right material for awakening indignation 
and scorn, admiration and social purpose." 

When we do find a realistic story that is good it makes 
a legend look pale. Here is an incident, abridged from 
some popular periodical, about 


A boy applied at a broker's office for a place as office 
boy. He was not very strong-appearing, but his mother 


was with him, and she said he would be a good one "or 
just let her know." 

The broker was just about to set the lad at work 
when he happened to remember that there was a crowd 
of other boys outside who had also applied for the job. 

"Tell them to go," said he. 

When the boy came in again there was a bump on his 
lip where one of them had hit him, and his necktie was 
gone, but he made no complaint and sat down quietly to 
learn to copy letters. 

Toward noon the business man went out to lunch. 

"I shall be back at two; if anyone calls get him to 
wait or to leave a message." 

Pretty soon a young man came in from another office, 
but he left no message and said he would call again. 

Promptly Jimmy tackled him, though he was the 
larger, and when the broker returned Jimmy was sitting 
on his stomach. 

The broker was surprised, to say the least, but Jimmy 

"He wouldn't wait and he wouldn't leave any message, 
so I had to make him." 

As this was just what he had been told to do, his 
employer could only laugh and pay the young man for his 
hurt feelings. 

A day or two later the broker gave Jimmy a certified 
check and told him to take it to another business office. 
He also handed him an engraved bond and told him that 
if the man there handed him forty-nine more like it, he 
might give him the check in return. The check was for 
fifty thousand dollars. 

About ten minutes later a friend rushed into the 
broker's office and convinced him that the man to whom he 
had sent Jimmy was a sharper and that the bonds were 

But Jimmy had probably given up the check by this 


They hurried down the elevator to see if they could 
overtake the thief. 

When Jimmy reached his destination the sharper 
wanted to seize the check at once, but Jimmy insisted on 
seeing the bonds. 

The sharper gave him one. 

Jimmy asked for the others. 

"Give me that check !" the sharper shouted. 

But Jimmy would not do so, and the sharper had to 
hand the others over. 

Jimmy began to examine them, one by one. 

The alarmed and impatient thief sprang at Jimmy. 
Together they fell to the floor, and there they scuffled and 
rolled. Not a word did Jimmy say, but he kicked and 
fought the man with all his might. At length the brute 
stunned him with his revolver. 

Just then the broker and his friend rushed in, and as 
they bumped together the sharper slipped past and escaped. 

They picked Jimmy up, white and bloody, and asked 
him anxiously if he was hurt. 

"I ain't hoited," he said faintly. 

Then he spat a little wad of paper from his mouth. 

It was the check for fifty thousand dollars. 

Don't you believe that broker appreciated Jimmy's 
obedience ? 

When we find a life that has imbedded in its ex- 
perience a lesson for the young, we must remember that 
we are engaged in the endeavor to help character-building, 
not to furnish biographical information. That a child 
should at some time or other have a fairly clear and ade- 
quate idea of the career of Washington is desirable, but 
the time to give him such an idea is not when we are 
trying to inculcate honesty through the cherry-tree episode. 
In moral training, biography is made for the child and 
not the child for the biography. All endeavors toward 
character-building through biography must evidently be 


discriminative. We may indeed praise Weems, who seems 
to have invented the cherry-tree story, that if he was not a 
wholly accurate biographer he was an excellent moralist, 
for he chose a story which is one of the classics of truth- 
fulness. So we may leave to the history books and to 
later reading complete knowledge of the achievements of 
any hero if only we may choose, what was very likely 
his greatest achievement, a golden deed that shall inspire 
our children. 


Plutarch's stories of the Greek and Roman heroes have 
generally been regarded as models for all time of tales for 
a purpose. They are always short, and they excel chiefly 
in the matter of a wise selectiveness ; they usually include 
but one achievement or one sententious phrase. Let us 
cite a few of them, to remind ourselves how this great 
Grecian ever declined to aim at more than one mark at a 


When an express came out of the field to Xenophon 
the Socratic as he was sacrificing, which acquainted him 
that his son had perished in the fight, he pulled the garland 
from his- head, and inquired after what manner he fell. 
And it being told him that he died gallantly, after he had 
paused a while to recollect his thoughts and quiet his first 
emotion of concern with reason, he adorned his head again, 
finished the sacrifice, and spoke thus to the messenger: 
"I did not make it my request to the gods that my son 
be immortal or long-lived, but that he might be a lover 
of his country. And now I have my desire." 


Being exhorted to hear one that imitated the voice of 
a nightingale, ''I have often," replied Agesilaus, "heard 
nightingales themselves." 



Damonidas, being placed by him that ordered the 
chorus in the last rank of it, said: "Well done! you have 
found a way to make this place also honorable." 

When Pandaretus was not chosen among the Three- 
Hundred (the chief order in the city) he went away laugh- 
ing and very jocund. When the Ephors calling him back 
asked him why he laughed, "Why," said he, "I congratulate 
the happiness of the city that enjoys three hundred citizens 
better than myself." 


An old man in the Olympic games, being desirous to see 
the sport, and unprovided of a seat, went about from place 
to place, but none offered him the civility. But when he 
came to the Spartans' quarter all the boys and some of 
the men rose from their seats and made room. At this 
all the Greeks clapped and praised their behavior; upon 
which the good old man shaking his hoary hairs, with 
tears in his eyes, said: "Good God! how well all the 
Greeks know what is good, and yet only the Spartans 
practice it!" 


Socrates hearing one of his friends crying out, "How 
dear things are sold in this city ! the wine of Chios costs a 
mina, the purple fish three, and a half pint of honey five 
drachmas" he brought him to the miller's, and showed 
him that half a peck of flour was sold for a penny. " Tis 
a cheap city," said he. Then he brought him to the oil 
merchant's, and told him that he might have a quart of 
olives for two farthings. " 'Tis a cheap city," said he. 
At last he went to the clothier's, and convinced him that 


the price of a sleeveless jerkin was only ten drachmas. 
' 'Tis a cheap city," he repeated. 

Of course Plutarch's sentiments are generally too ma- 
ture for children, but his directness was admirable. Abra- 
ham Lincoln was truly one of Plutarch's men, and some 
of his homely stones not only were pungent but are 
believed, rightly, better to help men understand him than 
have elaborate books of biography. This is one of his 
lesser known tales : 

A politician once went to him to get offices for himself 
and his gang. Lincoln received him politely, said to him 
that he was sorry he had no good offices for him and his 
friends, but that he could tell him a good story. 


"Once there was a king who kept an astrologer to 
forewarn him of coming events, and especially to tell him 
whether it was going to rain when he wished to go hunting. 
One day he started for the forest with a train of knights 
and ladies, when he met a farmer. 

" 'Good morning, farmer,' said the king. 

" 'Good morning, king,' said the farmer ; 'where are 
you folks going?' 

" 'Hunting/ said the king. 

" 'Hunting ? You'll get all wet !' 

"The king trusted his astrologer and kept on, but sure 
enough there came up a tremendous storm at midday that 
drenched the king and his whole party. 

"As soon as he got back to the palace the king had 
his astrologer dismissed and sent for the farmer to take 
his place. 

" 'Law sakes !' said the farmer, when he arrived. 'It 
ain't me that knows when it is going to rain; it's my 
donkey. When it's goin' to be fair weather, he always 
carries his ears forward, so. When it's goin' to rain, he 


puts 'em backward, so.' So the king appointed the donkey 
court astrologer. 

"But he always declared," Lincoln concluded, "that 
that appointment was the greatest mistake he ever made 
in his life." 

"Why? Didn't the donkey do his duty?" asked the 
office seeker. 

"Yes," answered the President, "but after that every 
donkey in the country wanted an office!" 

When we can succeed in telling stories from real lives 
convincingly we are doing children a great service. They 
are incapable of seeing history, as we see it, as composed 
of great movements and eras; to them it is simply the 
sum of the lives of men whom they revere. When we 
inspire them with great biography we bring them to see the 
history of mankind as Pascal urged that it be seen, "the 
whole succession of man during many ages to be considered 
as One Man, ever living and constantly learning." 


A few special suggestions may be helpful. 

In the first place, we must always be sure that what 
we intend to give is a story. Henry van Dyke summed up 
the whole word about story-telling for moral use in his 
famous prayer: "Grant, Lord, that I may never tag a 
moral to a tale, and that I may never tell a story without 
a purpose." It is, of course, the first part of this petition 
which we need especially to heed. We have so little faith 
in the effectiveness of our own stories. Yet if a story is 
really to be effective, it must be a story and not a sermon. 
Let us never call it "an anecdote"; never in story-telling 
use the word "character," "will power," "virtue," or any 
of the names which go with a book of ethical lessons. A 
child should go away from our story not feeling "in- 


structed," "improved," or depressed, but joyous, affectionate 
and courageous. 

^ Let us use at least the tact of a Pueblo Indian in our 
choice of a time for story-telling. We must lie in wait 
with our story as the hunter does with his gun if we are 
going to hit the mark. This implies that we must have 
plenty of ammunition. The parent, recognizing in a child 
a besetting sin, should stock up with stories which will 
inform, convince and inspire the child to conquer that 
special frailty. In a quiet moment before going to sleep, 
in the leisure of Sunday, during the confidential half hours 
which come frequently, though unexpectedly, the skilful 
mother will insert her story. 

The manner of moral story-telling is of considerable 
importance. Though preaching, we are not to adopt the 
preacher's tone. We are to avoid the "high pulpit manner." 
The story is to be told with evident enjoyment, if possible 
with a touch of humor. 

"Do not take the moral plum out of the fairy tale 
pudding," says Dr. Adler, "but let the child enjoy it as a 
whole. Do not make the story taper toward a single point, 
the moral point. You will squeeze all the juice out of it 
if you try. Do not subordinate the purely fanciful and 
naturalistic elements of the story, such as the love of 
mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of fellowship 
with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on 
the moral element. On the contrary, you will gain the best 
moral effect by proceeding in exactly the opposite way. 
Treat the moral element as an incident; emphasize it, 
indeed, but incidentally. Pluck it as a wayside flower. 
How often does it happen that, having set out on a journey 
with a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the 
way which we had not foreseen, but which in the end 
leaves the deepest impression on the mind. The object 
which we had in view is not forgotten, but the incident 
which happened by the way is remembered for years after. 


So the moral result will not be less sure because gained 

And when it has been told let it alone. For this 
reason it is usually well for the story-teller to depart sud- 
denly after he has winged his arrow to the mark. May we 
be delivered from the temptation of what Emerson once 
termed, to "pound on an incident." 

In our manner the finest virtue will be sympathy. 
Sympathy with our subject and our hero. To quote Emer- 
son again, his highest praise of Plutarch, the greatest pur- 
posive story-teller of all time, was that "he never lost his 
admiration," or, as he put it in another place, "He had that 
universal sympathy with genius which makes all its vic- 
tories his own." Sympathy, too, with the child. The -vice 
of the teacher is contempt of his pupil. It is hard to tell 
a child an improving story without looking down upon 
him. But if Dr. Norton said that the worst book is the 
one that makes life seem less interesting, he might have 
added that the worst story is the one that makes the child 
feel inferior. There is no special reason why we should 
act superior to the child ; we are in many ways not so 
sweet and pure as he, and we have by no means attained 
all the virtues of which we prate so glibly. Our truest 
mood toward the noble men of whom we tell is that We 
should delight in them, sitting to quote once more what 
Emerson said of Plutarch "as the bestower of the crown 
of noble knighthood, and laureate of the ancient world." 

And yet, with all our caution about preachiness, we do 
want our children really to get the application of the story. 
Nathan's tremendous parable to King David did not satisfy 
the prophet until he was sure that the king received into 
his heart the word, "Thou art the man." Especially per- 
haps in the Bible stories are children likely to feel content 
that what we tell took place a long time ago and related 
to the sins of somebody else. The child, we have said, 
tends to personalize himself as the hero of each, but he 
may not do so unless the story is effectively told. Mrs. 


Louise Seymour Houghton had an experience once, which 
she says was to a degree humiliating to herself. "I had 
been telling the children the story of Paradise and the 
Fall, and had tagged on a moral after the usual Sunday 
afternoon fashion of those days. This done, I dismissed 
the children for a game of romps on the lawn, before the 
summer bedtime. But my little three-year-old presently 
came back and climbed into my lap, as I sat enjoying the 
sunset. For a while he sat silent, then with a deep sigh, 
the words burst from his baby mouth, 'Oh, if Eve hadn't 
eaten that apple, what a differenth to uth !' How my con- 
science smote me! How differently I might have told 
the story! My baby of three could have perfectly com- 
prehended that when people have been naughty they may 
not stay in God's garden, and he would simply have tried 
with all the energy of his little will to be good, so that he 
might stay there ; but what had he to do with Eve's trans- 
gression ?" 

One mother of our acquaintance used to be sure of 
her application by making a point on Sunday to tell, under 
the name of another child character, of dispositions and 
incidents which she had noticed in her own children's lives 
during the week. She did this so skilfully that they would, 
in surprise, tell her that they had been in the same case. 
The application was not difficult. It is possible to carry 
along from time to time incidents concerning an imaginary 
"Grumpy," or "Lazy Lawrence" or "Mary Quite Con- 
trary," and promise to call some child by such a title of 
reproach if he deserves it, or, still better, to tell of the 
exploits of a hero and encourage the child to incarnate 

A long list of stories helpful for character-building 
is given in Appendix V. 


"Our first duty to a Bible story is to love it ; its effect we may 
leave to the divine artist." Richard G. Moulton. 

The Bible is the greatest story-book in the world. 
It is first in order of use. 


When we ask ourselves, What parts of the Bible do 
we most truly know ? we have to acknowledge that those 
parts are, on the whole, not always the ones which are 
of loftiest morality but those which embody keen story 
interest. Jn^general. we are much more familiar with the 
Pentateuch than with the Epistles, with the Old Testament 
than with the New, simply because,, during childhood, those 
parts, through stories, were first The Bible would 
not be a book dear to children if it were not largely a 
story book. It is the realization that it is a story book 
which causes young parents, who have not had the fore- 
sight to provide themselves with books of stories to tell 
to the children, to turn to this book which they remember 
was used in this way with themselves when they were 

The simplicity of the stories of the Bible helps account 
for their power with the children. Dr. Felix Adler quotes 
Professor Jebb, who remarked that Homer aims at the 
lucid expression of primary motives and refrains from 
multiplying individual traits which might interfere with 



their effect. This charm exists in the Bible as well as in 
Homer. The Biblical stories adopt a few essential traits 
of human nature and refain from multiplying minor traits 
which might interfere with the great effect. The Bible 
tales are fascinating in outline and leave every age free 
to fill them out so as to satisfy its own ideal. 

Dr. Adler calls attention to the fact that such simplicity 
is very difficult to use. If we keep our eyes fixed on the 
universal essentials of character, we produce a set of 
bloodless institutions, pale shadows of reality. If, on the 
other hand, we try to keep as near as possible to reality, 
we will probably produce more or less accurate copies of 
the people around us, but the danger will be that the univer- 
sal essential will be lost. This is possible because the Bible, 
like Homer, was written in a time when life was much less 
complex than it is at present, when the conversation, the 
thoughts, the motives of men were simpler. 

One reason why the Bible is a good story book for 
children is because of its candor. Children, we know, love 
truth and are naturally truth tellers. Our tendency in 
story-telling is always to eliminate the disagreeable, to leave 
out all that is bloodthirsty and cruel, to talk about none but 
perfect characters. Such a method is not only untrue to 
real life but it is a pale, bloodless and ineffective way of 
story-telling. The Bible is not like the cemetery through 
which the child is said to have passed and exclaimed as 
he read all the eulogistic inscriptions, "Mother, where are 
all the bad people buried ? There seem to be none of them 
here." It is rather like a roofless city, like Pompeii, down 
into whose streets and homes we are permitted to look 
and see it inhabited by its people, living, loving, conquering, 
playing, sinning and repenting. The moral strength of the 
Bible is that it not only tells us that the wages of sin is 
death but it shows us human persons earning those wages. 

The richness of material in the Bible makes it an 
admirable story book. It is, as we know, a massive collec- 
tion, consisting really of sixty-six different volumes. In 


these many pages many children are included. Persons 
of every class are described, from the working folk with 
whom children sympathize to princes and kings of whom 
children love to hear. Though its stories are somewhat 
defective in descriptions of nature, they are full of varied 
animal life. They contain all the different types of stories 
interesting to children of different ages ; fairy tales, fables, 
folk lore and myths, as well as parables and biography. 
^These stories maintain interest because they deal with 

(jL^j^x things which children wish to know. How often we forget 
that the child is avid for knowledge and for knowledge 
concerning great world questions. These are some of the 
subjects of Bible stories: the origin of the world and of 
human beings ; how things were made ; how men, women 
and children are provided for ; what are the varied interests 
and ambitions about which men have been busy; what our 
relations are to God, to the world and to men; what is to 
be our future beyond the grave. 

We know, of course, that almost every story in the 
Bible has a religious purpose. "This," says Louise Seymour 
Houghton, "is the value of the Bible stories for the child : 
that they give a religious meaning to all the experiences of 
his early life, and furnish the bond of unity, the centraliz- 
ing focus of all the processes, intellectual, moral and spirit- 
al, of his maturing years. 'No other book finds me as the 
le does,' said Coleridge, and this is superlatively true 
* of the child of any age. The Bible stories find him as no 

ft .Ky/'other stories do." 

f* / A minor, but important, value of the Bible as a story 

book is that even the order of the books as printed is 
appropriate to the stages of the child's development. It 
has been pointed out by others that the Bible represents 
also a very significant genetic order. It is a spiritual history 
of the race, and it is also the story of the inner development 
of every individual. It begins with the story of the creation, 
a wonder tale that appeals strongly to the mind of the 
child. Next comes the period of pastoral life, affecting all 


the child's out-of-door interests. Then is the heroic stage, 
the story of the God of battles, the stern and just lawgiver 
and inflicter of punishments like the parent, a narration full 
of wonderful tales of which the child never tires. The 
collection then moves on to pictures of civic splendor, to 
the days of degenerate city life, in which the old ideals for 
a time wane. Then comes the reign of Christ in the world, 
the story of the regeneration of society by the spirit of love 
and sctf-sacrifice. Last of all is the philosophic and the 
theological stage, in which the story turns upon the doc- 
trine of the church. 


Some people seem tn think it necessary to assume a 
peculiarly sacred manner when they tell a Bible story. Too 
often, as Miss Cowles tells us, "Bible stories are told in a 
truly awful manner, and children, without knowing why, 
learn to dread them. They oftentimes seem to them some- 
thing unreal, something which they cannot understand, 
something which they fear. This is the last result the 
story-teller has desired, but it is the inevitable result of 
sanctimonious substitutes for love, joy and gentleness. 
Rightly told, Bible stories arouse in the child keen interest 
and deep pleasure." It may be that we would be more 
likely to avoid this danger if we were to begin with the 
more simple and agreeable narratives, such as the beautiful 
story of Joseph, filled with wonder, with love, with forgive- 
ness and moral steadfastness, the wonderful story of the 
Creation, the Patriarch stories, hero-stories of the book 
of Judges, the story of David up to his coronation and the 
pastoral story of Ruth. 


As to the general method, Dr. Richard G. Moulton, 
himself a fine Bible story-teller, has given some suggestive 
special hints as to the way to tell stories from the Bible : 


"The proper preparation of the story-teller is that he 
should, saturate himself with the Bible story, but it must be 
story itself, not story and history mixed. 

"When the story has been properly studied and as- 
similated, then the freest play of imagination should be 
used in the rendering. Like the actor, the story-teller is 
the translator, with the translator's double fidelity to his 
original and to his audience. The question is not of trans- 
lating out of one language into another. The question is 
but out of one set of mental habits belonging to ancient life 
into another set of habits characterizing the modern hear- 
ers who are to be impressed. Greek drama, with exquisite 
instinct, realized this double fidelity in its institution of 
the chorus. Theoretically, a Greek chorus is a portion of 
the supposed audience in the theater transported into the 
age and garb of the story dramatized, which they follow 
from point to point with meditations calculated to voice 
similar meditations on the part of those watching the 
representation of the drama. Every teller of a Bible story 
must be his own chorus v 1 no.vJ n g' thmngli thp Beetles of 
the narrative with the outlook and emotions of the men 
or the children of to-day.^* 


Some special suggestions may be helpful as to method. 
The first is as to the method of addition. It is often helpful 
to add to the telling of a Bible story details as tn the 
thoughts of the characters in connection with the incidents 
which are told. For example, in the beautiful story of 
Isaac and Rebekah, it would interest the child to tell 
him what the old servant, Eliezer, was probably thinking^ 
ahouL after he left the home of Abraham and went forth 
on his long journey to select a wife for his master's son. 
It would also be attractive to the children if the story- 
teller portrayed the thoughts of Rebekah as she came to 


the well that day before she performed her pleasant act 
of courtesy to the old servant, and especially as to the 
thoughts which coursed through her mind after he had 
made the proposal of marriage in behalf of his master's 
son. Then it would be particularly attractive to consider 
the thoughts which passed through the mind of the eager 
^Isaac as_he_awaited the arrival of the old_servant with his 
16ride. The addition of characters to a narrative often 
makes a story more vivid. In the story of the Good Sa- 
maritan, for example, it may be well to* give to the Priest, 
the Levite, the Samaritan and the poor fellow who was 
robbed, each a family with children. "How many children 
do you suppose the. Good Samaritan had and what do you 
suppose were their names?" is a good question. Mentally 
accepting the children's suggestions, the story-teller will 
begin with the decision of the man who was later robbed 
to go down the Jericho road, the entreaties of his wife 
and children not to take the dangerous road, his replies 
and his affectionate departure. Similar dialogues in the 
families of the other travelers will add interest to the 
narrative and give opportunity for the selfish Priest and 
the careless Levite to speak out their real characters. So 
the conversation at the inn may be extended, and if the 
dialogue that is added does not make more clear the inci- 
dents and the moral purposes, the method is not only novel 
but gives force to the verbal story. 

Incidents may be added, but with caution, to certain 
Bible stories, and should be those which, as far as possible, 
we really get from the Scriptures themselves. Failure 
here is easy. The story-teller-. tnay^^jec^me, ^arjubu^or 
rambling, or he may so overload his story with fictitious 
incidents that he gives a different or wrong impression. 
"Ben-Hur" was truly a powerful and convincing narrative. 
It adds something to the clearness of our conception of 
the Roman world in the time of Jesus. Possibly it has 
helped some readers to a clearer and more beautiful con- 
ception of the character of the Christ. Most historical 


novels, however, that have been written upon sacred themes 
are untrue even to the life which they endeavor to delineate 
and obscure the character and work of the sacred charac- 
ters beneath the covering of a sentimental imaginativeness. 
In a few cases it is possible to continue a story or a parable, 
particularly if it carries the possibility of a second im- 
pressive lesson. 


Subtraction as well as addition is a useful method to 
apply in the telling of Bible stories. Some stories, particu- 
larly in the Old Testament, do not contain moral lessons 
for the young. Felix Adler says; "Sour milk is not proper 
food for children, nor do those stories afford proper moral 
food in which, so to speak, the milk of kindness has turned 
sour." The attempted sacrifice of Isaac, the story of Jael, 
the killing of Agag, are instances which immediately occur 
to mind. In telling the story of Hagar, it is possible to 
exclude what is repellent, only touching the picture of a 
mother's love. In telling the story of David, it is unneces- 
sary to speak in detail of David's sin and it is unwise to 
carry the story beyond the death of Absalom. The story 
of Moses is in great part unfit for children, not for moral 
reasons but because it includes motives too complex and 
mature to be within their comprehension. The childhood 
of Moses is a drama with which children have been en- 


It sometimes adds force to the Bible story to change 
the order in which it is related in the Scriptures. This has 
already been done for us by some of the Biblical writers, 
since certain incidents in the Old Testament are told in 


an order different in one source from that in which we 
find them in another. The story of Mary and Martha may 
begin, if we choose, with the beautiful sacrificial gift of 
Mary, working back to the circumstances under which 
Jesus has entered Martha's home. The story of Peter 
would probably be given in chronological order but must 
be separated out from the greater biographies of the Christ. 
A similar process is necessary in giving the story of Saul. 


f\JL-*JL -- 

Many devices are at hand for making more real the^ 
characters and incidents of the far-away land and time of 
tlie Bible. _Curios from Bible lands, pictures of Orientals 
in costume and reproductions nf sarreH paintings are always 
helpful. No device is more useful than the stereograph. 
The stereograph consists, as we know, of two photographs 
taken by two cameras set at about the distance apart of 
our two eyes. The result is that the third dimension is 
added to the scene, our eyes feel around, as it were, the 
objects and the people, the animals and the foliage stand 
out in the most vivid way from their backgrounds. To 
most children such scenes appear life-size, since the eye 
sees them as the camera does, in the most appropriate 
distance. The isolation of the child's eyes within the hood 
of the stereoscope enables him in imagination to traverse 
instantly the leagues between his home and the Holy Land, 
and many children have, at least for a brief time, actually 
the sensation of being in Palestine. This gives the keenest 
and most realistic sense of being set down in the midst of 
Bible people and Bible lands. The sand table is a helpful 
device for enabling children to work out the contour ol 
which they have already seen through the 

stereoscope, setting miniature people and objects on it to 
realize the life and customs. 



A helpful way to make a Bible story real is to put 
the characters into the child's life. 

"Some very effective tellers of Scripture stories fill 
in details of modern realism with slang up to date. I have 
never myself felt the necessity of this; but it is a fault 
in the right direction. The exact narrative of Scripture 
must be freely handled ; we may expand where the original 
is terse, emphasize clearly what the original takes for 
granted, alter altogether the proportion of parts. The con- 
dition is that we should first have been minutely faithful 
in our study of the story, omitting no hint, and wresting 
nothing out of proportion. This once secured, we become 
free agents in the translation of what has been learned 
into terms of modern thought." 

Earl Barnes found, from some English source, the 
story of Moses as it had been told by a Cockney boy. We 
see here how the boy instinctively added his own experience 
and observations and gave the result, which is good in its 
main features though somewhat absurd in some of the 
details, such as "the bulrushes which you have seen on the 
wall," and "the king's daughter going in bathing," which 
probably came from some Sunday school picture. The set- 
ting, however, was a very real experience of his own. "The 
cold grass" is a delicious transference of English sod to the 
banks of the Nile. The last paragraph is right out of the 
boy's own life. "Now little boy Moses had a sister about 
sixteen, and a father and mother which was Jews. And 
Moseses mother couldnt a bare to drownd her little boy, so 
she made a cradle same as they used to make arks. Then 
she put her little baby in this here cradle, and carried it 
to the river, and put on the water amongst some bullrushes 
so as it couldnt float down. And who do you think as it 
was that used to sit on the grass all day long watching as it 


didnt get loose? It was that there sister Mirium what I 
said he had. She was a very good young woman an did 
not mind the cold grass, because she knew as she was in the 
right, and that the King would be perhaps slain. 

"This wicked King had a daughter, as you would think 
she was. She used to go out bathing same as boys, only 
she didnt swim. She only just went in up to about her 
knees and then used to put the water over her head and 
down her body, and then used to tell the other women and 
her father as she had been in. The women could not see 
how far she had been in, because of the bullrushes which 
you have seen on the wall. 

"One morning she got undresst where Mirium was 
sitting on the grass, and she walked straight in up to her 
knees, to where the cradle was. When she saw him, she 
took him up in her arms, and run back to the bank shout- 
ing out as she had found a baby while she was swimming. 
The women all came round, and Mirium edged in among 
them. The lady was so well pleased as she had got a baby, 
that she didnt get dresst till she had settled things. But 
it was not hers, because it was not brought. Only found. 

"And Mirium said, Tharoh's daughter, shall I go and 
find a nurse for you ?' and if the lady didnt go and say yes 
right off. Then Mirium run away as fast as you, and who 
do you think she fetched for a nurse? Moseses mother, 
as had had him brought to her. 

"And Pharoh's daughter said unto her, 'I will actshully 
give you wages for nursing this baby/ And so Moseses 
mother nursed her own little baby without laughing, fear 
she should be found out and not get good wages." 

Dr. Adler tells the story of Adam and Eve in a way 
which is somewhat startling and yet in a way which we 
must acknowledge is good story-telling. "Adam was a fine 
and noble looking lad. He was slender and well built and 
fleet of foot as a young deer. Eve was beautiful as the 
dawn, with long golden tresses and blue eyes and cheeks 
like roses. They lived in the loveliest garden you have 


ever heard of." He speaks of their relation to God in the 
following beautiful manner. "But the children were not 
alone in that garden; their Father lived with them. And 
every morning when they awoke their first thought was to 
go to Him and to look up into His mild, kind eyes with 
loving gladness; and every evening before they went to 
sleep He would bend over them. And once, looking at a 
great star shining through the branches, Adam said to Eve, 
'Our Father's eye shines just like that star/ " And then 
he goes on and makes the story that of real children obeying 
a father's love and reasonable commands. A rather in- 
genious method of having Bible characters talk to children 
has been worked out in a volume entitled "The Door in the 
Book," by C. Barnard, published by Fleming H. Revell Co. 
Joseph and David, Isaiah and Paul are visited by the author 
with his readers, and these and others are asked to tell the 
stories of their lives to the children. 


The question arises among those who tell Bible stories 
frequently as to the order in which they had better be 
given. Dr. Adler believes in adopting a chronological ar- 
rangement. "It is expected," as he says, ''that the Bible, 
as they grow older, will be given more comprehensive study 
and for this they will be better prepared if they have been 
acquainted with the chronological order from the outset." 

On the other hand, many people prefer telling Bible 
stories in the order of interest. This is a method which 
is being more and more adopted" in the graded classes in 
the Sunday schools. It is, of course, a great advantage to 
reach children where they are at each period of their lives. 

Concerning the grading and use of Bible stories for 
purposes of moral education, we have our wisest word from 
Mrs. Houghton : "First, at about three, the story in its 
simplest outline, and as much as may be in the Bible words. 


Then at about five an elementary unfolding of its spiritual 
meaning, in answer to the child's importunate 'Why ?' This 
is to be followed at about eight by careful co-ordination of 
the story with the child's first elementary knowledge of 
mythology and history. A year or two later the co-ordina- 
tion of these stories with geography and elementary science 
may be in order, and not very much later, with the child's 
sense of language as illustrated in poetry and wonder tales. 
At about twelve or thirteen the alert young mind, expanded 
from its earliest activity by ever expanding apprehension 
of spiritual truth, never having been confused by any con- 
tradiction between its Biblical and its secular acquisitions, 
always having been harmoniously active in its three func- 
tions of imagination, emotion and will, is ready for the 
theological and ethical interpretation of the story, in what 
may be called the grammar school grade of these interpre- 
tations, of which he has already had the elementary grade. 
His more advanced historical work will enable him to put 
the stories in their proper place in history, and his studies 
in the classics and English literature to appreciate the liter- 
ary character of the Bible, the place of each story in the 
history of literature, its oriental diction and forms of 

"There will be no difficulty if this method has been 
pursued thus far, if neither the child's Bible nor his religion 
has been kept as a thing apart, unrelated to his school work 
or his weekday life, reserved for Sunday or forgotten en- 
tirely there will be no difficulty, when this method has 
been pursued until his fifteenth or sixteenth year, in carrying 
it farther, and relating it to his higher study of ethics and 
philosophy, as well as of history and literature, and making 
it an illumination of both, instead of, as too often sadly 
happens, a stumbling-block and cause of blind bewilder- 

Still another order for telling stories is to relate them 
in connection with the virtues which they inculcate. We, 
of course, do this instinctively and appropriately. This 


method is to be advised especially in the home, though not 
to the superseding of the other two methods which have 
been mentioned. A list is given in Appendix VI of Bible 
stories in relation to great moral problems and virtues. 
It is understood, of course, that in some of these stories 
elimination or adaptation is necessary in order that they 
may bear the application here indicated. 


"The children must have something more than a good story; 
they must have a good story-teller, one with quick sympathies ; one 
who loves the old stories, who feels the pulse of humanity throb- 
bing through them all ; whose voice is clear, flexible, interpretive ; 
whose language is simple, direct, pictorial ; who enters into a dra- 
matic situation; who has a keen sense of humor; who is willing 
to sow the seed and let it develop in its own good time." 

Arnold L. Gesell. 

Something was said in the first chapter about the edu- 
cational value of stories in general. In this chapter we 
wish to speak of their special value in school-mastering 


The story helps develop the power of attention. It 
was William James who told us that if we wish to insure 
the interest of our pupils, there is only one way to do it; 
and that is to make certain that they have something in 
their minds to attend with when we begin to talk. That 
something, said he, "can consist in nothing but a previous 
lot of ideas already interesting in themselves." Into these 
we must dovetail the related idea which we want to pre- 
sent to them. Now of course children get their "previous 
lot of ideas" from many sources, chiefly out of an inter- 
esting home life, but the best source in school for such 
ideas will be stories told by the teacher. In stories the 
teacher can present a greater assortment of ideas done up 


in attractive packages than by any other method of equal 
economy and effectiveness. Professor James went on to 
show that voluntary attention is intermittent, it comes in 
beats. The aim of the teacher is to make the intervals 
between the beats as brief as possible. This he may do 
by making "the subject show new aspects of itself," and es- 
pecially by finding and furnishing concrete examples of 
abstract subjects. Whenever we do this, by an illustration, 
a real instance, we are applying the story-method. 

One device that is of peculiar value in prolonging the 
periods of attention is suspense. One can hardly think 
of any way of producing and maintaining interested sus- 
pense that is as good as the well-told story. 


Behind the constant problem of classroom attention 
is the larger problem of the attentive attitude, of expectancy 
on the part of the pupil, of a real desire to become a master. 
Education consists not in communicating facts to a child, 
but in communicating power. To quote Mr. Lee again : 
"All that real teaching is for is to say to a man, in countless 
ways, a countless 'You can.' And all that real learning 
is for is to say T can.' When we have enough T cans/ 
there will be a great society or nation." Can you think 
of any better way to make a child say 'T can" than through 
stories ? If you are beginning to teach a child a new science, 
for instance, which will be the better way to begin, to order 
him to memorize the first page in the textbook or to awaken 
in him a love for the subject? Will you do better to turn 
some small wheel in his machinery or to light the fire in 
his engine? 

A teacher was once upon a time about to begin a class 
in plane geometry. Noticing that the textbooks were 
appropriately no doubt bound in black, he decided not to 
show them the first day. Instead, he opened the hour with 


a story, a story about some hero in mathematics. During 
the period he made a sketch upon the board to show the 
class something the hero had discovered, how to get the 
height of a tree by its shadow, perhaps, without climbing it. 
The next day he told a story about another hero-mathema- 
tician, and drew another sketch, possibly showing how this 
master had invented a way to get the area of a school-yard 
without needing to measure off every square foot. Finally 
some boy raised his hand. "Ain't there no book about this, 
teacher; ain't there any way we could get to know how to 
do some of these things ourselves?" With apparent re- 
luctance the teacher produced the textbooks from beneath 
his desk. The pupils fell upon them with avidity. Some 
days later, when some pupil had made a peculiarly neat 
demonstration of an original problem, the class broke into 
spontaneous applause, the first time probably there had 
ever been applause in a geometry recitation. Was not that 
good teaching? 

A group of men was once standing together, and each 
was telling the kind of watch he carried. "I haven't any 
watch," confessed Thomas A. Edison, who was among 
them. "I never wanted to know what time it was." Are 
we making that kind of men in school ? Is it not too often 
a fact that a clock is the most conspicuous object in the 
school room, what the altar is in the church, to which the 
child turns as faithfully and as patiently "as the sun- 
flower turns on her god, when he sets, the same look which 
she turned when he rose?" 

Someone has remarked that the ordinary school di- 
ploma is a certificate for weariness, a testimonial that a 
child has been consistently bored. Can we not devise some 
certificate for joy, a testimonial that a child has regularly 
done and learned what he has liked ? Evidence that he has 
achieved something that he glories in? Proof that he has 
often forgot what time it was in what he was doing? 



But will not story-telling make children flabby and 
indefinite in their thinking ? Gerald Stanley Lee once spoke 
of education as "putting a nozzle on the stream of con- 
sciousness." The definition is not a bad one. Is there not 
danger that story-telling will be another addition to soft 
psychology and predigested pedagogy? Will it help put 
the nozzle on the stream? 

It will, for while it is by no means the only teaching 
method, it is of direct help in almost every subject in the 
secondary school curriculum. 

Take the matter of verbal expression. A child's own 
story-telling is his best method for learning to speak well, 
because it involves both his feeling and his imagination, 
with a minimum of self-consciousness. And, unlike the 
stilted "examples" given him by adults or the encyclopedic 
summaries which he finds in books of reference, "the oral 
story," as Partridge says, "contains better than any other 
form the essentials of a good style." In a less degree story- 
telling by the teacher helps the young pupil toward oral 
expression, because, as Gesell tells us, "although he says 
nothing himself, he is collecting the material of speech, 
storing it somewhere, and sometime he will suddenly sur- 
prise you with his accumulated possessions." 

Stories help children to adequate and forceful expres- 
sion. In the case of the foreign child who must be taught 
English, or of the American born child who is shy and so 
lacking in the power of expression, the old folk-tale, with 
its familiar words and phrases, teaches the child to speak. 
Encourage the child to tell a story with you. This brings 
success in increasing his vocabulary. Stories which involve 
repetition, and thus memorizing, force a child to repeat 
phrases and to understand the words in them. Oftentimes 
the phraseology which brings the story to a climax is itself 


so beautifully phrased that it cannot be told adequately ex- 
cept in beautiful language. Some story-writers excel in the 
use of pure and virile English. Among such are Laura E. 
Richards, Eugene Field and Kipling, and, in the realm of 
sacred story-telling, Dean Hodges. Hans Andersen was 
skilled in matchless word painting, much of which has been 
preserved in the best translations. 


Good stories are a help in bringing literature to chil- 
dren. We say good stories, because we must agree with 
Gesell that "much of the story-work done in the grades 
is as demoralizing as vaudeville music ; it is dissipating and 
cheap." The stories that really take hold are so simple 
and direct that they are capable of being put into an out- 
line in one or two short sentences. And this is true of 
stories that are literature, from Mother Goose to Hans 

"Stories advertise books," as every children's librarian 
knows, and hence the establishment of story-hours in public 
libraries, where every such hour closes with an excited 
drawing of books by the children, with the consequent 
foundation of the reading habit. 

The story not only leads a child to books, but, para- 
doxically, it makes some children independent of books. 
"Men whose lives are their own dime novels," says Gerald 
Stanley Lee, "are bored by printed ones." The child of 
imagination who is getting a lot out of life every day does 
not have to read to escape boredom. We see the ex- 
planation here of this curious situation, that one child will 
be led through stories into the reading of books and another 
into the execution of certain mechanical projects. The 
latter may never become a reader. 



Gesell believes that the story is a better introduction 
to learning to write than more formal methods. "Stories 
told in words can be retold by chalk or crayon." The 
teacher will then have the children label their drawings 
with words and phrases, and their words with drawings. 
"She will have them fill out their sentences, rebuslike, with 
sketches; and will allow them to illustrate in their own 
way the readers which they will make." Thus stories, draw- 
ing and writing will come into vital connection with each 
other. Children will write compositions too in comparative 
painlessness if they are encouraged to do so while the in- 
terest in a story is still warm. 

The story is an excellent introduction to history. It 
helps the child to get away at once from the near and the 
trivial, to be redeemed from the petty tyranny of dates, to 
see the main heroic struggle of men and women who were 
a people rather than the spectacular struggle in war of 
their soldiers, to recognize how individuals played small 
parts in a large spirit, and to be inspired by what men 
have done, for his own present and future duties as a citi- 


Stories are a good introduction to nature study. We 
have already learned that nature-myths are congenial to 
children. Some of them are better interpretations to young 
children of natural and human origins than any others. 
No scientist has succeeded in preparing for nursery pur- 
poses a better account of creation than the double one that 
is presented in the first two chapters of ,the book of Genesis. 
The story-approach to geography is on the whole a more 


scientific as well as a more memorable one than that of 
naming the capes and pointing to all the archipelagoes. 
There is no doubt some peril in allegorizing animal life 
by attributing to animals human traits and motives. The 
"nature fakir" is the historical novelist of the animal world ; 
he confuses by mingling fact and fancy. But where the 
analogies are plainly playful, as in the Bre'r Rabbit cycle, 
the child recognizes that he is in the field of literature rather 
than that of nature study. 


Randolph S. Bourne has recently been revisiting the 
schoolroom of his boyhood. He says that it impressed 
him chiefly as a place of solitary confinement. The children, 
though sociable and friendly outside, were here segre- 
gated, isolated from each other. Since the chief method 
of learning is by comparing notes, by sharing experience, 
it seems to him that the school was losing its principal op- 
portunity. There is something to this. Some of this in- 
sulating may be necessary to the teaching of the indi- 
vidual; some of it may be required so long as many chil- 
dren are taught in one place at one time by one teacher. 
But in such a situation a story would be an antidote to 
such separation. It would bring the teacher and all her 
pupils together into one intellectual and social experience. 
Further, if Epicurus was right that "Education is friends 
seeking happiness together," we are losing a mighty dynamic 
of learning when we sacrifice the mutual enthusiasm of 
pupils busy in a common task of investigation or mastery. 


The greatest value of the story in the schoolroom, as 
elsewhere, is its moral value. Of this we can speak here 


but a word, since Chapters X and XI discuss the matter 
so fully. Stories establish right relationships in school: 
between the pupils and their teacher, as they learn through 
these windows to look into her real nature, to understand 
and to love her; they aid in establishing pleasant relations 
between the pupils, as the teacher, in the guise of a story, 
exposes the heart of some situation of malice, unkindliness 
or snobbery, or pleads for co-operation, helpfulness and 
loyalty. They take away the tension out of a difficult and 
strained situation; they give rest when the air is hot or 
sultry, the hours long, the strain severe. In short, they 
give the pupils a wider and saner outlook, help make a 
school code, and strongly affect conduct. 

The story is specific in value for special types of chil- 
dren. It encourages and brightens the dullard; it cheers 
the pessimist or the discouraged pupil; it helps the intro- 
spective one to look outside himself ; it soothes the nervous 
child, and it steadies the unstable. 

Not the least important result of story-telling in school 
is its reaction upon the teacher. Even a tired, unloving 
though conscientious schoolmarm can appoint a time and 
tell stories, but only a self-poised, cheerful, kindly teacher 
can tell them delightfully, and doing so will not only make 
her more poised, cheerful and kindly, but will stimulate her 
to keep in the condition and mood for being so constantly. 
Like mercy, the story "blesseth him that gives and him that 

A list of story books conected with school subjects is 
given in Appendix VII. 


"She would begin with a glow in her eyes and tell me their story. 
All of their tales she knew, by the hundreds and hundreds she 

knew them, 

Tales of the beings divine. . . . 

Mark! what I as a child picked up, the old man still plays with: 
Pictures of heroes in sound that lasts, when spoken, forever, 
Images fair of the world and marvellous legends aforetime, 
All of them living in me as they fell from the lips of my mother." 

Denton T. Snyder. 

Of all of the treasures of the home, none is more 
beautiful than stories. They have many precious values. 


Stones give both joy and content. We have spoken 
elsewhere of joy as a kind of power. There is a sane, 
pure joy which comes from the mother's stories, both in 
deepening affection and in cheering the disconsolate little 
child. Children have frequent sorrows. These griefs are 
often baseless and their causes are trifling or obscure. 
Some of them can be cured with a kiss, a few of them with 
an explanation; but best of all remedies usually is a good 
story. In cheerful stories, especially fairy stories, a child's 
dreams come true. One can turn almost at random to any 
fairy story that is told in the good old-fashioned way and 
find that at its close, the child, content with happiness, has 
identified himself with some beautiful fulfilled dream. Ed- 


mund Leamy, perhaps the sweetest of modern fairy-tale 
tellers, illustrates this in a fascinating manner. One does 
not need to read his story of "Princess Finola and the 
Dwarf" all through, but only to turn to its last paragraph, 
to realize its happiness-making effect upon a little child. 
"The knight took her up in his arms and kissed her; then 
he lifted her on to the horse, and, leaping up before her, 
he turned towards the north, to the palace of the Red 
Branch Knights, and as they rode on beneath the leafy 
trees from every tree the birds sang out, for the spell of 
silence over the lonely moor was broken forever." One 
turns to his most famous story, "The Golden Spears," and 
reads that delightful close in which he expresses his so 
frequently expressed love for "mothereen." "And Connla 
laid aside his spear and shield, and took off his golden hel- 
met and his silken cloak. Then he caught the little mother 
and kissed her, and lifted her up until she was as high as 
his head. And said he : 

' 'Don't you know, little mother, I'd rather have you 
than all the world.' 

"And that night, when they were sitting down by the 
fire together, you may be sure that in the whole world no 
people were half as happy as Nora, Connla, and the little 

The story is a help to contentment as well as to happi- 
ness. Children often become restless to get away from 
home. Psychologists tell us that there are at least two 
running-away periods in the life of the little child. The 
prospect of a story is a great inducement to a child to stay 
at home, a strong force in impelling him to return home 
from play. It is often possible, through the suggestion of a 
story, as in "The Golden Spears" just cited, to develop 
a warm love for the home and the home folks. A good 
illustration of the kind of story which would persuade a lit- 
tle child of the safety and beauty of home life is "Little 
Hare and the Red Fire" which was given in full in Chap- 
ter X. 



The story strengthens the love between parent and 
child. "Nothing else so intimately binds mother and child 
together nor so fully secures the confidence of the child. 
When they enter together the enchanted realm of story- 
land, mother and child are in a region apart, a region from 
which others are excluded. The companionship of story- 
land belongs only to congenial souls. And so the mother, 
by means of stories, becomes the intimate companion, the 
loving and wise guide, the dearest confidant of her child." 

In a fragment by Robert Louis Stevenson, the writer 
found the other evening a pretty incident of his visit, when 
a young man, to Cockermouth in the Lake Country. A 
happy-minded hatmaker, who "had little things in his past 
life that gave him great pleasure to recall," loaned him a 
raft which he had afloat on the river "in order that I might 
be able to look back, in after years, and get great pleasure 
in the recollection." Stevenson then discusses whether it is 
possible thus to manufacture recollections for young people 
in advance. He thinks on the whole, Not so, and yet almost 
proves the contrary by confessing that he wants a happy- 
minded hatmaker "placed here and there at ugly corners 
of my life's wayside, preaching his gospel of quiet and con- 
tentment." If in any way it is possible to make recollec- 
tions for our children that shall, like laid-up roseleaves, be 
opened some later year with fragrance, I can think of no 
surer means than by stories ; and if the story be forgotten, 
I cannot but believe that the one who told them will be 
remembered and longed for hereafter, just because he 
wished something beautiful for the future. 


The story in the home is a wonderful help in develop- 
ing the child's imaginativeness. Some of us dimly remem- 


her how, when we were children, we enveloped almost every 
nook and corner of the home and grounds in the atmosphere 
of fancy. The grown-up people were, as Kenneth Grahame 
remembers them, Olympians who, "having absolute license 
to indulge in the pleasures of life, could get no good of 
them." Certain corners in the garden or certain rooms in 
the house were haunted and all darkness was the abiding 
place of terrors. The author remembers a closet irfhis 
own home when he was a child which was entered by two 
doors and which thus became a mysterious secret passage, 
unfathomed by the neighbors* children, from one part of the 
house to another. He had also persuaded himself, by knock- 
ing on the walls, that there was an unaccounted for space 
between two bedrooms which he was certain was a secret 
room to be entered through a hidden panel. The hidden 
panel, however, was never discovered. A chestnut cabinet 
was minutely inspected because he was certain that behind 
some of its pigeon holes and softly sliding drawers there 
was a spring, a hidden drawer and treasure trove. Stories, 
indeed, encourage children thus to make mysterious and 
beautiful the house of their habitation. They gild com- 
panions with glory and add to uninteresting places a con- 
stant enjoyment. In thus idealizing people, the child gains 
some reverence for humanity and is induced to look for the 
sweeter manners and finer virtues of which he has been told 
in the heroes of romance. What child, for example, could 
be told of the Nicolete of medieval song-story without 
discovering unexpected beauty in a hitherto prosaic sister, 
and indeed in all womanhood? 

"Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue and 
smiling, her face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly 
set, the lips more red than cherry or rose in time of sum- 
mer, her teeth white and small ; so slim was she in the 
waist that your two hands might have clipped her, and 
the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as she went tiptoe 
and that bent above her instep seemed black against her 
feet, so white was the maiden." 


And also dark places and difficult situations are robbed 
of their terrors and their dread for the child who has 
learned to become used to conquest through the habit of 
fairy tales. Life itself becomes not only enjoyable but 
full of ardor and tranquillity if it is seen imaginatively. 
"No one," said David Starr Jordan once, "is really miser- 
able who has not tried to cheapen life." It sometimes seems 
as if some parents who never tell stories and whose con- 
versation consists chiefly in complaints about the weather, 
their neighbors or the high cost of living, have deliberately 
endeavored to cheapen life. The art of the great masters 
is that of enhancing life, and the imaginative mother who 
has insisted upon making life a song, learns how to set her 
children's lives to music. 


All that has been said about the educational value of 
the story in the school is true of the home, and more. 
The story is more potent in the home than in the school 
because it can always be especially chosen to suit the indi- 
vidual child, while necessarily the story told in school must 
be selected because of its supposed general interest. 

In school, the teacher has to awaken interest before 
starting to tell any story. In the home, the mother can seize 
the moment when interest exists and take advantage of it. 

In school there is very little opportunity for children 
to talk. In the home they talk all the time. In fact, as 
Mrs. Fisher says : "In undertaking to give a child a lan- 
guage, a school really undertakes an enterprise for which 
it is not fitted. Language can only be acquired by living 
with and in it. A child's arithmetic reflects his teacher, 
but his speech reflects his mother." 

The best opportunity which a child ever has to learn to 
express himself is when he tells the story of the day. Al- 


though to us such narratives are often tiresome and we 
foolishly act inattentive and restless during their repetition, 
yet, as Mrs. Fisher says, with very slight direction the 
child's story of his play may be coherent, sequential, vivid 
and accurate. In such a story, we have three valuable ele- 
ments : the subject matter wholly within the child's grasp, 
the most intense interest, a favorable audience. 


We have spoken of the relation of story-telling to the 
reading of books. The school teacher is limited in her 
choice of books either to supplementary reading or to the 
volumes which she feels sure are within the reach of the 
comprehension of nearly all her pupils. The mother, how- 
ever, deals only with the individual. She may have a pre- 
cocious child who is ready for books far beyond her years 
or she may have a backward child or a restless child who 
does not like to read, to whom she would give just the right 
access to books. When a story-book has come into the 
home which the mother suspects to be a little beyond the 
child's comprehension, the child's present tastes, it is often 
well not to read it at once to the child or to encourage s 
him to read it by himself, but to tell the most attractive por- * 
tions of it in advance. Then the child will plunge with 
eager curiosity into the book itself. 


The mother may also supplement and encourage the 
love of reading by various simple methods of handicraft. 
It is good to encourage children to make scrap books of 
favorite stories and pictures which they find in newspapers 
and magazines. She may use the interest in postage stamps 
or in the new paster stamps to interest the child in the 


stories with which they are connected. She may even be 
able to go so far as to get them to make story-books of 
their own in which they rewrite or illustrate the favorite 
stories which she has told them; collections brought home 
from the woods would be also suggestive of nature nuts 
and berries, seeds and seed pods, cocoons and bird nests, 
feathers and flowers. 


The story is useful in the home for purposes of dis- 
cipline. Surely the child is more likely to be spontaneously 
obedient who has been in the habit of rinding obedience 
beautiful in stories. He is more sure to be self-controlled 
if he has listened to many stories of heroes. There are 
certain special situations for which a story has definite 
value. Many a childish task is robbed of its tediousness by 
the telling of a story during its progress, or as a reward 
when the work is finished. Many a desolate hour, on a 
rainy day or after some other disappointment, may be made 
happy by a jolly tale. Many a misunderstanding may be 
made right or an explanation pungent by means of the com- 
munion of spirit which arises in the enjoyment of a happy 
understanding. An apology becomes unnecessary when 
two have laughed together. 


The naturalness of the mother's story-telling is one of 
the secrets of its effectiveness. She need not wait, as must 
the school teacher, for a special story-period. Her story- 
telling is most delightful when it does not come by appoint- 
ment. She strikes no pose, she has no gestures, needs no 
oratory, is not removed by distance. Not only the mother, 


but the guest in the home, is an effective and natural story- 
teller. Often a curmudgeon of an uncle or a gorgon of an 
aunt will unexpectedly soften at the interest of the child 
and pour forth from a long-closed heart fascinating reminis- 
cences of a far distant childhood. Nothing can be more 
flattering to one who has thus come to think of middle 
age as a burden than to find how enthusiastically young 
folks respect his most unpretentious efforts at story-telling. 
How eager they are to go back with him along the almost 
forgotten paths of youth ! How undeservedly popular are 
his elsewhere unappreciated narratives! Because of their 
infrequency and freshness, the stories told by a transient 
guest have an unexpectedly large influence in children's 


Above all seasons, bed-time, or at least evening time, 
seums most sacred to stories. The close of the story is usu- 
ally itself a cadence. It shuts softly like the glory of the 
evening star. It breathes forth calm as do the dying breezes 
at the close of the day. Let us instance Edmund Leamy 
again and note how even the melody of the final words of 
the story of "The Enchanted Cave" must give rest and satis- 
faction to the heart of the child. 

"And Cuglas never returned to the fair hills of Erin, 
and ages passed away since the morning he followed the 
hounds into the fatal cave, but his story was remembered 
by the firesides, and sometimes, even yet, the herdboy 
ws.tching his cattle in the fields hears the tuneful cry of 
hounds, and follows it till it leads him to a darksome cave, 
and as fearfully he listens to the sound becoming fainter 
and fainter he hears the clatter of hoofs over the stony 
floor, and to this day the cave bears the name of the prince 
who entered it never to return." 

The story is the cadence of the day. It lifts the re- 
unions of the supper table to a higher level. It explains 


the day's misunderstandings. It is the mutual expression 
of common loves and common cares. It voices aspirations 
as truly as a hymn. It sends the child, unwilling to depart, 
with a smile to bed, and it leaves its echoes even after they 
sleep. In one home which the writer knows the parents 
go around to see that the lads are safe for the night. The 
oldest has pinned a picture of Giant Grim out of "Pilgrim's 
Progress" on his door as a guardian, and sleeps uneasily, 
with his percussion-cap pistol in his grasp. In the next 
room his younger brother still wears his baseball cap on his 
head, while incongruously clasping his doll to his breast. 
The bed of the youngest is empty. He is found on the floor 
nearby, stretched out in calm repose, with stains on his 
cheeks that speak of ginger cookies, and an odor of sanctity 
that suggests salt codfish. 


"I would rather be the children's story-teller than the queen's 
favorite or the king's counsellor." Kate Douglas Wiggin. 

Let us now have something to say about organized 
story-telling, under the following heads : 

The Story-Hour. 

The Story-League. 

The Story-Class. 

By the Story-Hour is meant a regular appointment, in a 
library or elsewhere, with children, when stories are to be 
told, either by a volunteer or a professional. By a Story- 
League is meant a club of adults who meet periodically 
to practice story-telling, for mutual enjoyment and perhaps 
with some thought of telling stories to children later. By 
a Story-Class is meant a group of adults who are being 
trained by an expert for story-telling. 


Story-telling has had a large development in connec- 
tion with public libraries. The enormous outreach of such 
story-telling is indicated by the single fact that 81,000 
children listened to library story-tellers in the city of Cleve- 
land alone in 1909. 

Library story-telling has a specific purpose. That pur- 
pose, as stated by Miss Engle of the Philadelphia Free 
Library, is to bring children into contact with the best 



books. The librarian story-teller does not deny that she 
is a joy-maker; she would not flinch from being a moralist; 
but her duty is to the particular organization to which she 
belongs, and since the function of that organization is to 
get books read, her work as a story-teller is to establish in 
young people the reading habit. In order to do this well 
she is not so anxious to have a mob of children who are 
present because this chances to be the best excitement 
available at the moment as to gather a' group who appreciate 
the privilege and whom she can assemble frequently enough 
and in close enough relation to the library to bring them 
and the books together. 

A library story-teller should be sharp to discover 
whether the children whom the teacher sends her are those 
who really need stories the most. Where story-telling in 
the library is popular, tickets of admission are sometimes 
given out to the children through the schools. It is very 
natural for teachers to use them as rewards of merit, with 
the result that the best-behaved children, those who read 
and study most, those who come from homes where stories 
are freely told, fill the library, while those who need to 
learn to love to read and to have their imaginations and 
ambitions awakened are left out. The audiences that 
come are orderly, attentive and appreciative because they 
are prepared audiences, but they are not inspiring and they 
are a waste of time to a true story-teller. 

The pleasure of telling stories and the fascination of 
listening is such that the eager librarian sometimes tells 
stories when it hardly seems necessary to do so. Why, 
for instance, should a library appoint a regular Saturday 
story-hour in a city where children hear stories regularly 
in school every other week day ? Might it not be a better 
use of the librarian's time to organize on Saturday a class 
in story-telling for the school teachers? Wouldn't the li- 
brarian's story-matter actually reach more children with 
stories in this way than through the small number of young 
people who could actually crowd the children's room? 


There should at least be, as there already is in some cities, 
an exchange of story-programs between teachers and chil- 
dren's librarians, so that they will not duplicate each other's 
work. Yet usually there is plenty of room for so valuable 
a means as story-telling both in the library and the school. 
And this is so because the teacher and the librarian are 
telling stories for different purposes. The teacher tells 
stories for their social and moral effect in the school life ; 
the librarian tells them in order to bring children and good 
books together. 

Some library story-tellers rush in enthusiastically where 
angels might fear to tread. It must be remembered that 
it is sometimes more difficult to stop a story-hour than it is 
to start one. In a small city where the library force is 
small, a proposition for regular story-telling should wait 
until at least three difficulties are disposed of : first, the fact 
that it must necessarily take considerable regular time on 
the part of somebody to prepare and tell stories; second, 
that definite and adequate arrangements must be made upon 
every occasion for taking care of the children comfortably 
without absolutely shutting up the rest of the library ; third, 
that in order to do this an extra assistant is usually abso- 
lutely necessary during the time of the story-hour. 

Miss Mary Conover has for many years done a beauti- 
ful work in most crowded and unpleasant surroundings in 
the Detroit central library, maintaining there for a long 
time a story-hour almost literally in "the dens and caves of 
the earth." It was necessary that the stories should be told 
while the children's room was full of readers and even of 
persons drawing books. There was, however, as she con- 
fesses, one advantage. It became necessary to establish 
there habits of courteous attention on the part of all in the 
room, old and young. This helped in solving other prob- 
lems in the administration of their department. The con- 
sideration thus evoked seemed to spread over into the care 
of the books and relations toward the children and the li- 
brarians. Under such circumstances, attention could be 


held in the crowded atmosphere for not more than twenty 
minutes. It was also necessary to concede the presence 
of many grown persons, but, as Miss Conover cheerily re- 
members, "I fancy olden story-tellers had a very miscel- 
laneous group before them sometimes." 

The library story-hour sometimes fulfils a function of 
peculiar value. The three following incidents are typical. 

In Jamaica, Long Island, it was found that the girls 
would read only the most pernicious fiction. The Girls' 
Romance Club was organized in the public library for the 
sake of finding an antidote to this disease. The result was 
most encouraging. A unique and encouraging fact is re- 
ported in Providence, R. L, where the voting booths, else- 
where forlorn and neglected except for one or two days of 
the year, are being used for story-telling. In Boston, stories 
are told by the visitors in its famous home library system 
whenever a fresh parcel of books is brought by a visitor 
to a home. There are sixty such centers in Boston close to 
the people where such stories are regularly told. 


E. B. DeGroot, one of our best known authorities in 
play, concedes that "the only passive occupation that should 
be given equal place with the other occupations" on the 
playground is story-telling. "The place of the story here," 
he continues, "is definite, and comparable with any first-class 

The following information concerning playground 
story-telling is furnished the writer by the Playground 
and Recreation Association of America. 

Most of the playgrounds tell stories quite informally 
between active games, when the children are too warm or 
too tired to play, during sudden summer showers, or at 
other opportune times. Probably every play leader ought 
to be able to tell a story fairly well. In Pittsburgh, where 


the regular weekly story-hour is conducted by trained chil- 
dren's librarians, sent from the Carnegie Library, there is 
also another period during the daily assembly at nine o'clock 
in the morning or one o'clock in the afternoon when various 
play leaders who are willing tell one or more stories to the 
whole assembly, often five or six hundred children. There 
is somewhat the same value in this common story-hour for 
big and little that there is in choral singing. But there 
should also be stories in smaller groups where the play 
leader may definitely plan stories that will meet the moral 
or emotional needs of the group in a way that it is not pos- 
sible to do with the larger group. 

On many playgrounds the children are asked to retell 
the story told the day before for the benefit of those who 
didn't hear it or in some cases individual children are made 
responsible for a story themselves on certain days. Always 
when this is done, the sharing motive should be emphasized. 
Someone has said the greatest enemies to social efficiency 
are shyness and bumptiousness, and the public schools are 
past masters at the development of these qualities ! Let us 
look out that the public playgrounds come not under a like 
indictment. Here is one great opportunity to repress the 
bumptious and help the shy to express, for if the motive 
be strongly emphasized not to show off but to share 
and a premium is always placed on "doing it so the other 
children will enjoy it" like magic the artificiality of the 
over-bright and the timidity of the repressed melt away 
and a child-like joy in sharing adds to the charm of the 

In Chicago and in Portland, Oregon, several times na- 
tional holidays have been celebrated by sending story-tellers 
to various spots in the parks and having stories appropriate 
to the day told to the groups which spontaneously gather. 
And it is never recorded that they lacked an audience. 
In Reading, Pa., the beginning of the preparation for the 
festival of "The Pied Piper" consisted of the telling of the 
story through a megaphone to all that great throng which 


gathers on the cement-covered city reservoir on a summer's 


In clubs for street boys story-telling has for many 
years been a highly prized method of work. 

Mr. Frank S. Mason, founder and for many years 
active head of the Bunker Hill Boys' Club in the Charles- 
town District of Boston, "brings important testimony con- 
cerning the real value of story-telling to newsboys : "I am 
free to say that when we first instituted this it was my idea 
that the great good that would come out of it would be the 
bringing together of the boys and a nice woman who would 
have the power to win and charm them through this means 
of getting their interest ; but, like a great many other things 
that finite minds conceive, that was one of the smallest 
benefits. The great good, as I see it, is in the opening up 
of the imagination, and the getting away of the boy from 
merely speculating or passing judgment on concrete things, 
to entering into the region of the unexplored and unknown. 
In other words, we have found the boy capable of saving 
himself through this means just as much as through the 
carpentry classes and through his games and play." 

Mr. Mason does not deny that the moral influence 
of the good woman was effective. In another communica- 
tion to the writer this was strongly stated, but the two con- 
victions that surprised him were noteworthy: the response 
of the city boy in a starved environment to the stimulation 
of his imagination, and the self-saving power of his liberated 

Miss Cara W. Sprague, who was for several years the 
story-teller in Mr. Mason's club, found some rather sur- 
prising tests in her experience in telling stories to these 
newsboys. "It has been a surprising fact to me to find that 


again and again the boys who at first turned up their noses 
at the idea of 'fish' tales are often most persistent in de- 
manding giant and witch-tales in a very little while. Boys 
from twelve to sixteen who have tumbled up somehow 
without Mother Goose or Cinderella can safely stand many 
and many a fantastic tale to try to make up in some small 
degree for some of their precious lost time. I wonder, too, 
if you will be surprised to hear that to the boys here (at 
the Lyman School in Westboro, Mass.), in spite of the 
craving for exciting tales, two of their favorites are quiet 
little stories about of all things in the world a little 
girl! The effeminate person, die namby-pamby sort, is 
termed a 'Tessie.' I was afraid both of these stories might 
be termed 'little Tessie' stories, but they have been ex- 
ceedingly popular." 

What do story-tellers think of this opinion of Miss 
Sprague's? "I tell much of my story with sprinklings of 
the boys' own language. I may be very shocking, because 
, I am given to the use of slang myself, but I can't help feel- 
ing that (as I can use it naturally) 'the prince' makes a 
much more vivid impression because he says (apropos of 
the fight with two fierce wild boars), 'Now you take the 
little fellow and leave the big guy to me.' Maybe I am 
absolutely wrong, but I feel very thoroughly that the boys 
are much more apt to retain other language and to assimilate 
new and elegant phrases (coming in frequently as they so 
often do) if there are occasionally more stepping stones." 

On the contrary Miss Caroline M. Hewins of the 
Hartford Public Library reminds the writer that Miss 
Faith Collins, who for years has told stories to newsboys 
in the Good Will Club of that city, "has generations of 
scholarly ancestry behind her, and has all her life been an 
omnivorous reader of romance and folklore. Her manner is 
so quiet when story-telling that it is hard to understand 
how she holds the attention of boys, but I know that she 
does from the books that they ask for from the library." 
A librarian would thoroughly approve of Miss Collins, but 


the superintendent of a club for street boys, while he too 
would approve of Miss Collins, would think himself for- 
tunate to get, for his particular purpose, so good a woman 
as Miss Sprague, even if she were a wee bit given to the use 
of slang. 

Story-telling is not entirely for women. Some young 
men in social settlements and boys' clubs have found they 
could get a stronger hold on boys through stories than by 

Mrs. Lowe believes in developing the story-hour into 
something of an organization. She would have listeners 
who would become an active organization. There should 
be, she believes, a club, committees, perhaps grades and 
promotions. After the story, she would have discussions 
and would let the organization grow into a society for doing 
good. This is certainly in harmony with the fundamental 
axiom of pedagogy no impression without expression. 


Apparently a minor yet really a very important detail 
in a story-hour, whether for children or adults, is that the 
place of meeting shall be a cheerful one. Such a place 
ought not to be impossible to find. The writer has in mind 
one story gathering whose gloomy meeting-place seemed 
to be a perpetual and constantly perceptible barrier to the 
work, which was intensified upon unsuccessful afternoons 
until it distinctly got on the nerves of its members. 

Miss Sprague sensibly states that in her judgment 
two essentials stand out most conspicuously in such gath- 
erings: fresh air and a keen desire to listen. "I have," 
she says, "visited so many schools and so many clubs and 
classes where the bad air meant almost of a certainty in- 
attention, that I cannot help emphasizing it just as strongly 
as possible." Concerning the even more important matter 
of the desire to listen, she calls attention to the sometimes 


forgotten fact that in a boys' club there are some boys 
who are bodily, but not spiritually, in the story-teller's 
presence. They do not expect to be interested. To such a 
boy, Miss Sprague would say, "You don't feel like listening, 
Tommy. Go down and play some games." This sane sug- 
gestion may make all the difference in the world to the 
other forty or fifty Tommys and Johnnys who remain. 

Miss Sprague too no doubt voices the sentiment of 
most story-tellers when she says, "I am never quite com- 
fortable and really ready for business unless they are al- 
lowed to draw their chairs close to the story!" 

Mrs. Lowe believes that almost any objective thing is 
better than no object at all to illustrate and give reality to 
the story. She would get empty bottles and pin about 
them cloth of different colors and call them people, if neces- 
sary ; a red cloth for an Indian and a blue one for a soldier. 
To have a background, she would use a sheet or table cloth 
to form hills and plains and trace the line of travel of 
the characters with a finger. She has used corks for 
brownies and pens for fairies and bottles for children. 
The young folks readily value any of these home-made 
substitutes. In an emergency, some child will actually say 
excitedly, "Get the vinegar bottle. Let's have a giant!" 
Of course these devices are practicable only in a small 
group of children. 

The best story-tellers do not try to "grade" their listen- 
ers too closely. As one of them said to the writer some- 
what tartly, "Nobody in the world tries to grade children 
but school teachers, and that is all they know." If a story 
has a big interest it will- reach children of many ages. 
Some children who grade high in school are deficient in 
imagination and will not enjoy a story as well as those 
who have less acquisitive information. In library story- 
hours children of about three consecutive grades in school 
are often invited together. 

Mrs. Lowe, from her large experience, has discovered 
some essential differences in the mental attitude of the boy 


and the girl which she believes ought to be studied carefully. 
"The boy has an intense desire to build himself, to become 
great enough to lead others. He has no innate desire to be 
led; he does not like to follow. He is the sun and the 
planets revolve about him. His idea of himself is that he 
must draw attract. This tendency of his ego must be the 
basis of our teaching. It must be considered as his person- 
ality and respected. His query is how he may become great. 
Give him something to do like a man and he will be in- 

"The tendency of the girl is to be directed. She will 
follow. She is always willing to revolve about a greater 
power. She is therefore more teachable than the boy but 
more unreliable. She is more easily moved than the boy, 
more easily influenced. Use influence with the girl and 
argument with the boy. The girl is capable of doing big 
things and of reaching great heights. 

"The boy has great sentiments, more perhaps than the 
girl, but the girl has too much emotion and she disgusts 
the boy often with his own sentiment. Guard carefully a 
boy's sentiment. It is the gradual crushing of these half- 
formed things that ruins his life many times. 

"The boy does not need you, however, so much as the 
girl. There are infinite possibilities in the girl that will never 
be developed if outside influences are not brought to bear 
on her life. She will not build herself with a motive 
strength within herself. She will be negatively good with 
no other instrument than an innate desire to be so, but to 
assert herself and come into possession of her inheritance, 
she must feel an attraction outside herself and be more 
or less influenced by it. The boy has an incentive within 
himself to build and must only be given material, but the 
girl, lacking this incentive, can more easily be led to per- 



At the Pittsburgh story-hour the story-tellers usually 
use folk-tales but do not disdain to utilize good stories wher- 
ever they find them. They believe in Pittsburgh that folk- 
tales are especially useful, as are folk-crafts, in preserving 
the traditions of the many countries from which the chil- 
dren come. This helps explain why mothers are as in- 
terested in the Pittsburgh story-hours as are the children. 

There is a large place for what someone has brightly 
called "stepping stone" stories, those which, without liter- 
ary style or serious purpose, reach down where the child 
is and help lift him up to a higher level. In Greenwich, 
Conn., for example, the story-teller had to contend with 
the moving picture shows, cheap vaudeville and unsuper- 
vised play. She found it necessary to begin with very short 
stories, with no literary flavor, containing lively and excit- 
ing plots and dealing entirely with affairs of to-day. After 
she had gotten hold of her audience, she was able gradually 
to lengthen her tales, to turn to literary material and to 
tell stories by cycles. 

Edna Lyman claims that a successful story-hour is not 
a vaudeville of "attractions." There are three things which 
a person who talks to a large number of children should en- 
deavor in the hour to attain. First, he must gain attention. 
The^jirslLstory is to, the_restjQl_the^ program__wjial_tlie 
^orchestra is to the play... It. carries thejstory-teller success- 
fully through any opening confusion oFrioise to the jriind 
ojLjtheJistenefs and puts thej^jjTlhe__attitude_of sympathy. 
Next~c^mes~lfie"" w mofe'Terious and thoughtful thing, often 
a story which is most fuTTof inspiration and uplift. This 
Miss Lyman calls "the symphony" of the hour. Finally 
Is the climax, a story full oF~strength, full of purpose, 
full of the light and shade of humor and pathos and in- 
tended to leave the children eager to come again. These 
three items do not necessarily imply that exactly three 


stories should be told. Such a program, however, is by 
no means a bad one, and Miss Bailey's story programs in 
her excellent book "For the Story-Teller" are always ar- 
ranged in cycles of three. The professional story-teller 
will wish to scan them all, but one or two samples here 
will be sufficient. As a "home" program she suggests this : 

"How the Home Was Built," by Maud Lindsay in 
"Mother Stories." 

"The Little Gray Grandmother," by Elizabeth Harrison 
in "For the Children's Hour." 

"Sheep and Pigs," Scandinavian folk-tale. 

Under animal programs, with the special caption of 
"Rabbits," she suggests these: 

"Raggylug," by Ernest Thompson Seton, adapted. 

"Peter Rabbit," by Beatrix Potter. 

"Bre'r Rabbit and the Little Tar Baby," by Joel Chand- 
ler Harris in "Nights with Uncle Remus." 

In arranging a story program some of the possible 
systems are these: 

By theme 
By race 
By period 
By author. 

With children the first is evidently the best. It gives the 
opportunity for the simplest, clearest, most abiding impres- 
sion. Within the motif of one theme there is plenty of room 
for the overture, the symphony and the cadence that Miss 
Lyman asks for. But the child has little care for sources, 
Celtic or Scandinavian, for periods, ancient or modern, 
or whether a story has a known author or is anonymous. 
These should be reserved for story-periods of adults, with 
their fully developed interest in literary sources, periods 
and men. For them such special programs are instruc- 
tive and valuable. 

Miss Bailey illustrates more fully the way one typical 
story group may be helpful by instancing three stories 


which may be grouped about the central thought of indus- 
try. ''The first story in the story group might be The 
Sailor's Home/ by Laura E. Richards. This story catches 
and holds the children's attention at once because its charac- 
ters are familiar to them ; its setting is one they can quickly 
see in their imagination. They have much in common with 
the two children. And the climax of the story is a lesson 
in industry. The second story in the group, 'Stone in the 
Road/ makes the children think. It takes them further 
afield and makes them see in imagination wealth, a castle, 
gold, poverty. This story makes the children use their 
dawning power of judging. The last story is 'Drakesbill/ 
a humorous folk-tale. This story makes a fitting climax, 
while it still emphasizes the central thought of the story 
group industry." 

In the Pittsburgh story-hours, two stories are gener- 
ally told each hour. One is especially selected for the 
youngest listeners and the other more general in character. 

The Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh publishes, from 
time to time an outline for cycle stories. This cycle sug- 
gests choice of incidents for the individual story-teller 
which will make each a dramatic unit; an arrangement of 
stories to heighten the interest in science as a whole; best 
sources for the story-teller and those for children ; read- 
ing for the story-teller's background and supplementary 
reading for the children. They include lists of books to 
which reference is made. The following outlines are now 
in print and may be obtained at 5c. each: Stories from 
the Norse ; Stories from the Ballads of Robin Hood. Simi- 
lar lists which will be helpful to the story-teller, published 
at the same price, are Patriots, and Heroism. The first 
of these is published by the Pittsburgh Library and the 
second by the New York Public Library. 

In regard to cycle stories, especially the long cycles that 
are used in Pittsburgh, most experienced story-tellers will 
probably agree with Miss Hewins when she says that the 
cycle seems to be practical only where the story-teller 


is sure of meeting nearly the same audience every week. 
Children after all have some other things to do besides 
attending story-hours, and to stake success with the indi- 
vidual upon his desire or ability to attend every chapter 
of the cycle would seem to tend to narrow the congregation 
to a very exclusive group. 

The program printed in the appendix, furnished the 
writer through the kindness of Miss Julia Williamson, direc- 
tor of story-telling for the Philadelphia Free Library, seems 
to the writer admirable as a guide for a winter of organized 
story-telling. The list is a composite, and represents the 
likings of several intelligent and experienced story-tellers, 
it is excellently classified and diversified, and it lends itself 
either to the telling of complete stories or continued stories 
or cycles of stories. From such a list any story-teller could 
furnish herself for a whole season. 


^Miss Mary L. Shedlock, who came from England__tp 
Aierjcajn_1902 to tell stories to adults^as well as children, 

Jias been credited as the founder of the story-telling move-. 

jiient in America* Those who, like the writer, heard her at 
Chautauqua, may well credit the story which is told of the 
child who, after listening to her, wanted to know whether 
she was a lady or a fairy. Costumed like a fairy god- 
mother, she did much to revive the old bardic art and 
groups of story-tellers rose in her train wherever she ap- 
peared. Coming annually to this country until a very few 
years ago, her influence was as continuous as it was charm- 

At ^bojit_the__same time Richard T. Wyche, thgn__a, 
cotmtrjjjrhoo!^ in *^e smith, caused his modest_biit 

earnest voice to be heard as to the gospeLoLstory-telling;. 
Beginning his public work in a southern university,^ has 


gone quietly about the land, _bnngmgjnto ieing_and_power 
the National Story-Tellers' League. 

Concerning methods of organizing a local story-tellers' 
league, Mr. Wyche writes us as follows : 

"Call together a group of people who have the story- 
telling work at heart, elect officers and appoint a program 
committee to arrange a program of stories to study and 
tell for six or eight months in advance. Let the meetings 
be informal, social and free; all who join are expected to 
take part. It is best to limit the membership to about 
twenty-five or thirty. If others wish to come in, let them 
form a separate organization. A number of towns have 
three or four local leagues, each working out its own sal- 
vation in a democratic way. 

"Local leagues are affiliated with the National League 
by the fee of ten cents for each local member, to be paid 
to the National League. 

"You will find quite a good deal of information in re- 
gard to the movement in the World's Work, March, 1913 ; 
Mother's Magazine, May, 1914; Literary Digest, July 1, 
1913 ; Pedagogical Seminary, Clark University, about No- 
vember, 1909; 'Some Great Stories and How to Tell 
Them,' a book of mine published by Newson and Company, 
New York. A number of leagues issue year books." 

It may be questioned 1 whether there is enough vitality 
in the story-telling movement to keep alive interested or- 
ganizations of persons who gather solely to tell stories to 
each other. The best answer is the results. Since Richard 
T. Wyche gathered the first Story-Tellers' League on the 
grounds of the University of Tennessee in the summer of 
1902 local societies have been established, some of which 
have had from six to twelve years of consecutive existence. 
Of course, not all have been successful. But there would 
seem to be as much reason for the being and maintenance 
of a story club as of a card club. The life of any organiza- 
tion depends, of course, upon the existence of a group who 
are genuinely interested in its purposes and upon the use 


of the wisest methods. The successful Story-Tellers' 
Leagues seem to have been those in which the members have 
actually told stories. They may have passed, through 
story-telling, into some study of literature, but wherever 
they have become merely social organizations or where 
they have depended upon professional story-tellers or ora- 
torical or dramatic entertainments for their programs they 
have failed. A story-tellers' league should be a story- 
tellers' league. It is not a class in elocution; it is not an 
audience for listening to elocutionists. It is not a group 
gathered to hear memorized narratives nor to listen to a 
garrulous person of unorganized mentality. The aberrations 
which are possible to a story-tellers' league are illustrated 
by one which was called to the writer's attention where, 
during a series of folk-tales, a number of children from one 
of the schools came in costume and illustrated Italian story- 
telling by dancing the fandango, and where an "African 
afternoon" was diversified by the appearance of forty cute 
little "coons" from another school who sang plantation 

How shall we get participation by our members in the 
story-telling? Answer: the very organization of the league 
must be geared for this purpose. Much rests upon the 
program committee. They should select programs which 
involve such a variety of stories that no one person could 
be expected to tell them all. They should assign far in ad- 
vance the story-appointments, choosing perhaps an alternate 
as well as a principal for each opportunity. A helpful de- 
vice where a good speaker is expected is to ask him kindly 
not to tell his stories himself but to suggest their titles to 
the committee so that they may be assigned to individuals. 
There are, of course, always those who enjoy coming in 
and having an afternoon of entertainment by listening to 
the others, but such are not desirable additions to the mem- 
bership, and a small club in which all are friends and no 
one feels embarrassed is much better than a big one, in 
which "entertaining features" are expected. 


There seems to be room for the story-telling method 
in organizations where some other things are considered. 
A Sunday school teachers' meeting, in the writer's own 
experience, was much strengthened by giving a consecutive 
series of eight meetings out of its winter's work just to 
story-telling. The teachers appreciated the value of the 
work for their own teaching, though they would have 
shrunk from joining an additional society to tell stories 
indefinitely. The attendance of the group was doubled for 
that space of time. A short course or an occasional hour 
for story-telling has been an agreeable means of help to a 
club of public school teachers. Many summer normal 
schools offer story-hours on the school lawn after the text- 
book work and the lectures of the day are over. Those 
who are interested in education are glad to see the method 
used wherever it may strengthen the preparation of teachers 
of the young. 


Story-telling is an art of such dignity that those who 
practice it anywhere ought to be prepared for their worthy 
calling. Miss Hewins, speaking for the librarians, states 
their ideal and the too-frequent actuality, when she pleads 
for a woman "who makes story-telling her profession, 
and is one of the library's staff, as in New York, where 
Miss Anna Tyler, a woman with background and dramatic 
training, goes from branch to branch and meets clubs of 
the older boys and girls. The difficulty is, however, in 
finding a story-teller who has had all her life a knowledge 
of the best stories for children. Half-baked young girls 
are attracted by what seems an easy method of earning 
money and pose as story-tellers without more material to 
work on than a collection like Miss Bryant's 'Stories to 
Tell to Children/ The same is true of some of the volun- 
teer story-tellers who offer their services." 

The Playground Association finds this same difficulty 


among the volunteer story-tellers of the playgrounds. Too 
often stories are left to the younger or volunteer leaders 
who happen to have a gift of telling them rather vividly 
but who often do not recognize the tremendous power they 
wield. One such worker said she spent half an hour a 
week looking up and preparing her stories ! How different 
this from the work of the trained moral diagnostician who 
watches for the evidences of sick or weak little souls and 
administers the needed remedy truly a sugar-coated pill 
or who plans even prayerfully the story which will open 
the next logical step of development for the normal red- 
blooded boys and girls. 

Story-telling is now being taught in nearly all normal 
and kindergarten training schools. Miss Latham and Miss 
Moore at Teachers' College, Columbia University, and Miss 
Gudrun Thorne Thompson at the University of Chicago 
are doing particularly good work in university circles. Mr. 
Wyche on his various itineracies gives helpful short courses. 

A story-class differs from a story-league chiefly in 
the degree of the seriousness of its members. The element 
of entertainment is only incidental and it is understood 
that the pupils themselves must, during every session, actu- 
ally tell stories. A story-class ought to have a definite 
program of work based both upon textbooks and upon 
standard story collections. There should be regular re- 
quired reading. Even when lectures are given, the story 
demonstration should be by the pupils themselves. A story- 
class without actual story-telling by the pupils themselves 
is as aimless as a laboratory class in physics in which all 
the demonstrations are performed by the instructor. 

It is essential that the story-class should be composed 
of serious-minded persons who not only love children 
and stories, but who are willing to do hard work and 
meet good-naturedly the candid criticism of their class- 
mates and to perform their work, without loss of enthusi- 
asm, in a true professional spirit. 

Sane criticism is always helpful and can usually be 


secured. The best method is to ask each person in the 
room in turn to offer a word of comment after the story 
is finished. Grammatical errors and lapses in style need 
not be noticed. The best preliminary to good criticism is 
for the story-teller to announce before he tells his story 
for what age and sex it is intended, what atmosphere it is 
desired to create and what purpose the story is planned 
to fulfil. If the criticism can follow along these three 
lines it will be most helpful. Wherever possible the criti- 
cism should be constructive as well as kindly. "Could 

Miss S have made herself more clearly understood if 

she had shortened her approach to the climax in this 

way ?" " Would she have done better to have used 

the word at that point instead of to bring 

out more decisively the character of Prince Charming?" 

At Teachers' College, where classes in "Telling Stories 
to Children" are most admirably conducted, training, which 
is carried out thoroughly along theoretic lines, has a prag- 
matic and highly effective side as well. After some months 
spent in studying methods and in class practice, each girl 
selects a long story preferably one of her favorites 
studies it carefully, makes it her own, and in due time tells 
it formally to her teacher and fellow-students. These, for 
the time being, consciously play at being children again, 
thus giving the girl on the platform a sympathetic audience 
at the outset something which every beginner at story- 
telling needs sorely. Once the story is done, the teacher 
calls upon various members of the class for criticism, 
favorable, unfavorable, general, and specific ; and presently 
everybody has added something of practical value to her 
knowledge of this seemingly simple art. Always the criti- 
cism brings out the fact that the girl who can forget herself 
enough to be easy and natural, yet who is wholly dramatic 
in the "high places," has played the game most successfully, 
has told her story most effectively. 

There are so many ways in which the trained story- 


teller resembles the preacher that one almost feels like 
pleading that a textbook in homiletics should be added to 
the curriculum of the pupil in story-telling. As the writer 
put down these words his eye fell upon a volume of the 
Yale Lectures on Preaching in his library, by ex-president 
William J. Tucker of Dartmouth College. It is entitled 
"The Making and Unmaking of the Preacher," but it might 
about as well have been called, 'The Making and Unmaking 
of the Story-Teller." Doctor Tucker begins by pleading 
for that mutualness and co-operation between speaker and 
listener which we have been pleading for between story- 
teller and child. "The preacher (story-teller) is the man 
who is able to enlist other men in his work of persuasion" ; 
these others he is to make "distributing agents of the 
truth." That which makes the good preacher makes the 
good story-teller, "the depth and breadth of his own hu- 
manity"; that which unmakes the preacher unmakes the 
story-teller, "unreality" of reason, imagination or feeling. 
The success of preacher and story-teller alike is in humble 
endeavor "there is no fellowship so great or safe or assur- 
ing as that into which we enter through humility." 

Let us emphasize especially that phrase, "the depth 
and breadth of his own humanity." The story-teller who 
gets his stories entirely out of the women's page of the 
evening paper does not get very far or strike very deep. 
The story-teller who has simply a repertoire of memorized 
and rehearsed stories somehow fails to hold. Everything 
that one reads or feels or experiences, if it be treasured, 
in some way gets sometime into our story-telling and 
through us into the lives of our children. It might almost 
be said that the two rules for making a good story-teller, 
intellectually, are that he should live a large life and keep 
a note-book. The conversation of almost any man who has 
done things is an interesting story. The reason why the 
garrulous are tiresome is that they are overwhelmed by the 
confusion of non-essentials in their experience. The bards 
and shamans of old were generally men who had travelled 


widely, who had been among all kinds of people, who had 
listened intently, and whose matter and art were both fine 
because the matter was weighty and the memory of it was 

If there are in this world persons who have frequent 
privilege of feeling themselves fairy godmothers, they must 
be you who have made story-telling a profession. To enter 
a room full of children, with whom you have previously 
made friends by stories, with so many eager "hearts ajar 
for your arriving," is one of life's keenest pleasures. The 
fact that everyone longs to touch you, to sit by you, to 
look up adoringly into your face, shows that you have 
their affections as well as their attention in your grasp. 
You step into a mood, personal and social, which assures 
you of a most potent influence. You take rank with the 
world's best prophets and truth-tellers. You are one of 
the makers. 


Introducing Some Friends of Mary Lowe 


"Lead onward into fairy land, 
Where all the children dine at five, 
And all the playthings come alive." 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


Once upon a time the Fairy Godmother wanted to 
find somebody who could show children the fairies. She 
looked everywhere; in Germany the land of fairies, in 
France and Chili and Hindustan, and finally in our own 
country. And there at length she discovered a little white- 
haired lady who still loved Bo Peep and Little Boy Blue 
and who was always at home to children. 

And when the Fairy Godmother told Mary Lowe what 
she wanted to do, Mary Lowe nodded her head and just 
laughed and said, "I understand." Mary Lowe is something 
of a fairy herself, and she knows all kinds of magic. So 
she took her scissors and her ragbag and some paper and 
her pen and ink and some bottles! and went to work. 
And when she had got done working, she could show chil- 
dren the fairies. 

After she had led a great many children into Fairy- 
land, Mary Lowe asked me to tell grown-up people how 
she does it. 

Bottle dolls have always been made, but they have 
never been used to teach a new kind of story-telling until 



The new kind of story-telling is: to create enough 
dolls out of empty bottles to represent all the characters in 
any story and then to tell the story by causing the bottle 
people to enact the parts indicated by their characters. 


Every child loves to live in a mimic world and likes 
to produce in his plays the dramatic activities of the char- 
acters who are his imaginary companions. For such play 
he does not require close adherence to actuality. It some- 
times seems as if the cruder the objects of play the easier 
it is for the child to crown them with the glamor of fancy. 
The trouble with all endeavors to play dramatically has 
been that the characters of the Noah's Ark are not sufficient 
in number to portray any story, and doll characters con- 
structed out of paper are too flimsy or destructible for 
practical uses. So Mrs. Lowe, in making bottle dolls for 
her story-telling, has solved one of the most difficult play- 
problems. Bottle people are substantial and inexpensive, 
and they are realistic enough to satisfy the imagination of 
the children. They are fully as lifelike as rag dolls, and 
these, as everybody knows, are much preferred by children 
to the most artistic wax doll. They stand up better than 
rag dolls. Wooden ten-pins or other turned wooden things 
with broad bases would be practicable because they can be 
pierced with tiny tacks, but bottles have the advantage of 
coming in so many sizes. 

One of the most desirable materials for the making of 
character dolls in places where such material is common is 
gourds. Cut off at the bottom they are as stable as bottles, 
and Nature has furnished them with heads, very quaint and 
often humorous. 

Hard material is not very cuddly, but then, as Mrs. 
Lowe reminds us, people do not hug kings and queens to 
any great extent, nor put wet thumbs in their eyes. The 


idea is not to turn these into rag babies, to be handled in any 
undignified manner. Most of the play, especially the dra- 
matic play, of children is serious. Chessmen are not in 
themselves fascinating, but they are used for playing one 
of the most fascinating of games. Bottle dolls are the chess- 
men of children, used for playing the serious game of Life. 
One of the favorite values claimed by educators for the 
use of dolls is that they cultivate the maternal instinct. No 
such claim is made for Bottle Dolls. They are not made to 
be cuddled. They develop respect rather than the warmest 
affection of children, although children do get to have their 
favorites and to think of them very warmly. The attitude 
of the average child toward the average doll is the special 
one of providential love for that which is little and helpless. 
The average attitude of the ordinary child toward the Bottle 
Doll is similar to that which he holds toward the adult world 
into which he has begun to enter. It is a foreshadowing of 
a recognition of the value of character and the variety of 
personality. This is why Bottle Dolls appeal to boys as 
much as to girls. The boy would be disgusted to see a girl 
fondle a Bottle Doll. He would regard it as an evidence of 
disrespect. The Bottle Doll is to the girl as well as to the 
boy a valuable interpreter of life. Bottle Dolls are inter- 
esting to children from six to fourteen years of age, to boys 
as well as to girls. To young children the characters make 
a charming Mother Goose Town. They do a very desirable 
thing in keeping big girls playing dolls longer than they 
otherwise would, for they offer them a miniature world of 


Emphasis should be made at the beginning upon the 
fact that this is more truly a system of toy handicraft and 
of story-telling than of play. That is, the dolls are not 
chiefly intended to play house with or to roll balls at, 
but to work out real and imaginary stories, little dramas. 


The handicraft comes into the making of the doll 
characters and the scenery and accessories. As in much 
other play of children, getting ready is about the most de- 
lightful part. The story-playing is the climax of a delight- 
ful afternoon with scissors and thimble. 

Their successful use demands the leadership either 
of an adult or of an imaginative child. Almost all children 
turn out to be imaginative if they have a chance. Usually 
children will make up their own stories with the dolls as 
soon as they have heard one story told with them by an 
adult. This story-playing presupposes an audience, but if 
the audience is composed of ordinary dolls arranged in 
appreciative attitudes it usually proves sufficient. 

Mothers who have kept the child spirit tarrying in 
their hearts will find bottle-doll story-telling an infinitely 
delightful occupation with their children. The little folks 
will enjoy making and arranging the characters; they will 
retell the stories, they will actually enter the Enchanted 
Land themselves and often find there new adventures and 
fresh surprises. When other children come in they, too, will 
be charmed, and there will never be any trouble about hav- 
ing a party when the bottle characters are invited. 


The philosophers are telling us how necessary is the 
element of make-believe in children's lives. Here is a 
most skilful way of developing it, not in the merely passive 
way of story-reading, but through the most active, self- 
directing, serial play. There is also an even more important 
opportunity the moral element. But of this in Chapter 



Mrs. Lowe says her first endeavor in her little pla> 
was to make the children love the dolls. It helped, of course, 
to do this when the children made them, but they learned 
best to do it by knowing and feeling that every doll was a 
personality. For this purpose Mrs. Lowe created a King- 
dom of Dolls, establishing therein certain rulers and citizens 
with fixed names and characters. 

This Kingdom was constituted of the familiar charac- 
ters in the classical children's books, turning most fre- 
quently to that cornerstone of education, Mother Goose 
Melodies. Mrs. Lowe has developed when she has played 
with a group of children for several years as many as 
three hundred characters, but it is necessary at first to 
master only a few. The following are suggested, with hints 
as to what they naturally represent in children's minds. 
They are arranged in three classes. 


1. The Fairy Queen (or Godmother) the Spirit of 
Love, who has left Fairy Land to rule over the Kingdom. 

2. Buttercup. This cheery fairy of brightness and 
light, the blossom that is like a candle, who has never dis- 
obeyed the King, is the untainted better nature that shines 
in the heart of every child. She is the Queen's Messenger. 

3. Alice of Wonderland another Messenger of the 
Fairy Queen ; "the only person the children know who has 



been in the wonderful Land the children love." (Another 
messenger might be Shakespeare's Ariel.) 

4. Tiny Tots who keep alive the mother love of the 
Fairy Queen, for "it takes giving and not receiving, the 
innocent faces and the light clasp of the little hands, to 
keep love warm and unselfish." 

5. Puck the spirit of irresponsible mischief. 


1. Old King Cole a typical earthly monarch who 
keeps the Kingdom in order. He puts anyone who hurts 
another in a great north tower, where it is dreadful to 

2. The Queen of Hearts a lovely Queen who always 
pleads for those who do wrong, because she knows that if 
they did not drink the brew they would be good. 

3. Jack o' Hearts a boyish prince who likes the com- 
mon people, and who is a messenger of the King and 

4. 5. The Master and the Dame, attendants of the 
court, really school teachers, a childless couple who love 
all children. 

6. A High Sheriff or Policeman, a kindly soul who 
tries to maintain order. 

7. The Giant Killer, every boy's hero, an attendant at 
the court. 

8. Humpty Dumpty, a comedy character, round as a 
ball, and unsteady on his feet. 


1. Old Mother Hubbard a gossipy soul who is fond 
of pets. 

2. The Farmer's wife a good housekeeper. 


3. Mary Contrary an energetic school girl who is 
fond of flowers. 

4. Polly Flinders a nice little school girl, who never- 
theless sometimes gets into the cinders. 

5. Little Miss Muffet who is always afraid of things. 

6. Bo- Peep the Farmer's daughter; a shepherdess; 
aggressive and sometimes naughty. 

7. Red Riding Hood a small girl who has many sur- 
prising adventures. 

8. Lena a thoughtless child, who often listens to 

9. Bessie Brooks who goes to walk on Sunday, and 
thinks she is a young lady. 

10. Johnny Green who likes mischief, and who put 
the cat in the well. 

11. Jack Horner the little boy who is greedy, and 
who likes to brag. 

12. Tom Piper a little boy who takes things. 

13. Little Boy Blue a lovable little fellow, always 
full of cheer; brother of Bo-Peep. 

14. Wee Willie Winkie who doesn't like to go to 

15. Tommy Snooks who thinks he is a man. "He 
and Bessie Brooks are the only ones who are of the sweet- 
heart size. No little world would seem complete to chil- 
dren without the sweetheart element." 

16. The Farmer. 

17. A Giant. 

18. Sister Marie "She has no life of her own, but 
lives for others." 

19. The Witches who try to kill love, and rule with 

20. The Lovely Lady anybody's mother. 

21. Ruth she represents any girl listener; daughter 
of the Lovely Lady, visiting the Kingdom of Love. 

22. Frank any little boy listener. 

Sometimes a child personalizes himself as "Frank" 


or "Ruth," and sometimes he selects another for his favorite 
character and thinks of himself as walking in that character 
through the story. It is the experience of adults who have 
become familiar with the dolls by name and character that 
they find themselves loving certain ones, and these always 
the ones whose names and histories they know and whose 
personalities are impressed on their minds. 

One can at once see the fascinating possibilities in the 
way of adding other familiar Mother Goose characters to 
this assortment. 

The Crooked Man ought to be a winsome personality. 
Tommy Tucker who sang for his supper should be a cheer- 
ful lad. The Old Woman who lived in a shoe should be 
very motherly. Bobby Shafto should be the sailor. Three 
Wise Men of Gotham might represent the Would-Be Wise, 
Simple Simon the fool who knows that he is not wise. The 
Old Woman who brushed the cobwebs from the sky would 
be a happy addition to the element of fancy. 


In actual bottle-doll play it is necessary sometimes to 
give a doll a new name, but it is usually not necessary to 
give it a different character. The child simply selects a doll 
that has a similar character and gives it a temporary new 
name and a permanent added experience. Thus the dolls 
really live a consecutive life, though "each in his time plays 
many parts." 

If, for example, one wished to tell the story of Cin- 
derella the bottle people might assume the characters, as 
follows : 

The Farmer's Wife as the mother-in-law 

Bessie Brooks 

Little Miss MurTet Us the proud sisters. 

Mary Contrary 


Ruth as Cinderella. 

Jack o' Hearts as the Prince. 

The Master 

The Dame 

The High Sheriff 

as Courtiers. 

Humpty Dumpty 

The Giant Killer 

The writer once saw the story of the Good Samaritan 
told somewhat in this way: 

The Master as the Priest. 

The High Sheriff as the Levite. 

The Farmer as the Man who went down to Jericho. 

The Giant Killer as the Good Samaritan. 

Humpty Dumpty as the Inn Keeper. 

Johnny Green, Tom Piper and Tommy Snooks as 

The Dame as the Priest's Wife. 

Mother Hubbard as the Levite's Wife. 

The Farmer's Wife as the Man's Wife. 

Bo-Peep as the Samaritan's Wife. 

The Child Characters as Children of the Levite, the 
Man who went to Jericho and the Good Samaritan. 


As soon as a child steps up to the dining-room table 
upon which the action of the bottle play is to take place, 
he is supposed to have entered the Land of Make-believe, 
which encircles the Enchanted Land. The Enchanted Land 
itself is a table or any raised surface about 6 feet by 3. The 
idea of a Kingdom placed on the floor does not seem to give 
satisfaction. There is a sort of inconsistency about it. 
The child feels too large for the little world at his feet, but 
when the mimic world is placed on the table, the idea of its 
own completeness is unmixed with the bigness of the child's 
person. The arrangement of the table itself, suggested in 
the following diagram, is to be compared with the frontis- 

The squares marked "platforms" are two levels, which 
may be made by boards of lessening sizes, the smaller at 
the top, set on glasses or blocks, or by boxes of different 
sizes. Here stand the principal characters until they are 
used in the story-games. On the top level are the Fairy 
Godmother and her attendants, on the second level are the 
King and Queen and the gentry, and on the table stand the 
minor characters, the common folks. The "house" is where 
the common story-characters usually live and perform their 
indoor activities. The "lot" is yard, farm or playground, 
as the case may be. The center space is the scene of action, 
and the place marked "witches' brew" is where all the mis- 
chief originates. 





A simple way to get a stage effect is to set the table 
on the porch against the window, use the window curtain 
as the stage curtain and let the audience sit just inside. 

When children play by themselves they usually place 
all the characters in their appropriate stations at the begin- 
ning and pick them up and move them about the vacant 
space, as is indicated in the story. When an adult story- 
teller is entertaining the children it is better to have the 
stage vacant at the beginning and station the dolls one by 
one, hinting at their characters and histories briefly as she 
does so. She needs to place in view for a given story only 
such dolls as are used in that story. 

You can see at once how to tell any story by the use 
of the dolls. Frank and Ruth "walk" and "talk," as they 
watch the other characters in action. The story usually be- 
gins with the characters stationed in front of the house 
door. When they go to the hills the children come out to 
the "lot," thence they may run down to where the witches 
are. From there they may come back, tarrying in the center 
space, to the house. Buttercup comes down from her shelf 
when she talks with the children and remains near to watch 
over them. When the dolls are "talking" they face each 
other, and the real children give the dialogue. 


The sand table makes a valuable background for bottle- 
doll story-telling. Already the publishers of Sunday school 
supplies and the Missionary Education Movement have fur- 
nished us with tiny character dolls, houses, etc., which, 
mounted on the hills and valleys of the sand table, help 
wonderfully in making real the background of a missionary 
story. A small set of Bottle Dolls, thus arranged upon the 


sand tray, or, better still, upon a sandy beach, may enact 
more satisfyingly out-of-door scenes than upon the flat 
dining-room table. Mrs. Helen B. Paulsen, an expert story- 
teller, who has found the story of the Good Samaritan es- 
pecially attractive when told with Bottle Dolls, regards this 
as her favorite for work with the sand background. She 
heaps up the sand to represent mountains that are round 
about Jerusalem, works out with her fingers the valleys that 
lie along the Jordan and there gets the setting for the 
dramatic tale, which she closes at the "Inn," which she sets 
up in a level place at the foot of the valley. All the out-of- 
door stories given in this Manual may be told with added 
interest with sand for earth, twigs for trees, ribbons for 
streams and window glass for lakes and seas. 


Mrs. Lowe has added immensely both to the interest 
and the moral value of her system by devising a simple 
but beautiful framework of allegory against which all her 
characters have their setting and by reference to which 
all stories may be told. A lady who had the privilege of 
hearing Mrs. Lowe tell her stories to an actual circle of 
children describes the result as follows : 

"First, she introduces the Gypsies in a scene suggestive 
of the three witches in Macbeth and impresses the children 
with the thought that when they drink of the 'brew* they 
will commit evil deeds. Then she brings in the Buttercups 
(representing the gold or good in our hearts), who were 
created by the Invisible King, and at their own request were 
later given human form. (All this is told in rhyme, legen- 
dary style.) Perhaps a sweet little Dutch doll 'drinks of the 
brew' (allows her evil thoughts to dominate), and instantly 
the children catch their breath with sympathy. (Thus they 
learn the lesson of charity rather than resentment toward 
those who do wrong.) But the Invisible King sends Butter- 


cup to the rescue. Each child understands that by the In- 
visible King is meant the Great Power back of all things, 
who created all things good, but somehow the Gypsies crept 
in to do the deeds of the Devil. There is not enough theol- 
ogy to cause criticism from any parent, just enough to lay 
the foundation for working out the idea of right and wrong 
in all the practical relations of everyday life in the child 

But lest we introduce confusion at this point, we will 
not describe Mrs. Lowe's allegory until later. The descrip- 
tion in Chapter XIX of "How to Enter the Enchanted Land" 
explains it as it appears to children, and Chapter XX on 
"Mary Lowe's Philosophy" gives the whole system. 



After children have begun to understand the bottle 
characters, they need only the dining-room table for a 
stage. But the first time the characters are explained, either 
by an adult or a child, it is well to have two tables a small 
one such as a serving table for placing the characters before 
they are introduced, and a larger one such as a dining 
table for the scenes of the stories. These tables should be 
placed side by side about ten inches apart, and they may 
be bridged by a shingle. All the doll characters should be 
marshalled on the smaller table in the order in which the 
story-teller intends to present them, those which are to 
come in first in the front rank. On the larger table plat- 
forms should be arranged in the one corner as on the chart, 
the house in another, anil the kettle for the witch's brew in 
a third. 


When the children have gathered and all is ready, the 
story-teller should collect them about the larger table. There 
is no harm in letting the children examine the dolls, as 
they stand on the smaller table, before the story begins, 
so long as they do not touch them. For if they touch 
them, they are likely to knock them down or disarrange 
them, and they will take greater interest if they are told 
that they are going to be allowed to handle them just as 



soon as the story is over. Interest may be excited by asking 
them to try and guess whom each one of the dolls represents. 
Thus they will be more intelligent in making suggestions 
when you begin the story. 

The story-teller should stand at the backside of the 
two tables in such a position that she can readily take 
the dolls from the front rank first, and lead them across 
the bridge and place them in the Kingdom. 


Directions for moving the characters are given here 
(in parentheses) and some of the dialogue is indicated 
such as is likely to occur during the narrative. It is desir- 
able to get the children to answer questions and talk as 
much as possible. Making sure first that all are in a com- 
fortable position to see and hear, the story-teller may pro- 
ceed somewhat as follows: 

How many of you have ever read "Alice in Wonder- 
land"? Ah, I am glad to see that so many of you have! 
You remember that it tells all about Fairy Land. Do 
you remember the place where, after Alice has taken the 
magic key, she suddenly finds herself becoming very little, 
so small that she can go right through the key-hole ? These 
two little people (taking Frank and Ruth in each hand and 
carrying them across the bridge and placing them on the 
side of the table near the children, facing them) are a 
boy and girl, brother and sister, who have come over from 
the land where you and I live into Wonderland, and who 
have suddenly become small just as Alice did. The boy's 
name is Frank, and his sister's name is Ruth. This (point- 
ing to the small table) is where the doll people go to sleep. 
But this (pointing to the large table) is the Wonderland, 
where all sorts of strange things happen. It is a kingdom 
all by itself, with its rulers, its nobles, and its common 
people. And we are going to call it the Enchanted Land. 


Now in order to get into the Land you see these 
dolls have to cross this bridge. Before they cross the 
bridge they are just common bottles, covered with paper 
and cloth, but after they cross over the bridge of Make- 
believe then they become fairy-like people. If you stand 
real close about the table so that your shoulders touch 
that is right, stand a little closer you will all be in the 
Land of Make-believe, too, so that you can look right 
into this Enchanted Kingdom. 


A long time ago the Invisible King wanted someone 
to rule over his Kingdom who would represent all the love 
in the world. Who in the world loves us best? That's 
right, our fathers and our mothers. So the King took 
from his Fairy Land the Queen of the Fairies, because 
she had in her heart the love of all the world. (Carry the 
Fairy Queen across and place her in the center of the 
upper platform, and as her attendants are mentioned, bring 
them over and place them beside her.) 

Now, of course, in order to love, it is necessary that 
there should always be somebody to be loved. So in order 
to be sure to keep her love alive, the King gave her these 
Tiny Tots, always to be with her, for her to care for. Next 
he remembered the flower that he loved best the butter- 
cup, and he said, "My children may sometimes forget to 
do the things I want them to do, so I will have this little 
flower, which is as bright as a candle, and have it to guide 
the children in the right way." So cheery Buttercup, the 
flower with the face of a child, became the Queen's mes- 

And for her other messenger, there is Alice of Won- 
derland the only real child whom you know who has 
visited the Wonderland that all the children love. 

This is Puck. He is the spirit of mischief. He flies 


about wherever he chooses. Some find him very charming, 
but you will discover that he is very unreliable. 

The people down below cannot see the Fairy Queen 
and her court, but the Fairy Queen can always see all the 
children. And Buttercup and Alice of Wonderland are 
always ready to hasten down and do her bidding. 

In our world we have all sorts of people, and so in 
the Kingdom there are the high and the low. Here is 
jolly Old King Cole. We must have a King who can be 
happy as well as make the laws, but though he is happy 
he is also stern. And when any one does wrong he shuts 
them in his grim North Tower. 

Here is the Queen the Queen of Hearts. And she is 
always teasing him to be merciful when he starts to put 
any poor fellow in the prison. 

Now come the attendants of the King and Queen. This 
little fellow is Jack o' Hearts. Prince Charming is his other 
name. Although he is a Prince he loves his people, and 
they of course love him. And here is the Giant Killer, 
brave although he is so little. 

Now we come to the common people, and there are a 
lot of them. I must bring in the ladies first. (Bring them 
in three at a time, but separate each one and clearly explain 
who she is before placing her on the table near the house.) 
Here are some of the older ones. Can you guess who this 
is? She lives all alone with her dog, and her cupboard is 
often bare, because she is away gossiping so much. Yes, 
this is old Mother Hubbard. And who is this who cut off 
the tails of some mice with her carving knife? Yes, the 
Farmer's Wife. She is the mother of Bo-Peep and Boy 
Blue. She has to work very hard taking care of her house 
and her children. 

Lena is a little waif from the city. She is so thoughtless 
and listens so much to Puck's mischief, that although she 
means no harm she is often in trouble. 

Mary Contrary can you say the verse about her? 
Yes, that's right. She is a good-hearted school girl who 


loves her pretty garden. And can you say the one about 
Polly Flinders? You can guess what she is like. She is 
a school girl, too, and a friend of Mary's, but so slovenly 
that sometimes she gets into the cinders. And here is 
Little Miss Muffet, who is always getting scared to death 
over nothing. 

Who was it who lost her sheep and had to go back 
to find them? Yes, Bo-Peep. Whose child do you think 
she is not the banker's nor the minister's. Yes, she is 
the farmer's daughter. Who is it that is dressed in a red 
cloak, and is always having surprising adventures? You 
are right, it is Little Red Riding Hood. And here is a child 
almost grown up, who goes to walk on Sunday. Her name 
is Bessie Brooks. 

Here are three men. First is the Farmer who married 
the Farmer's Wife, and who is the father of Bo-Peep and 
Little Boy Blue. Here is the policeman who arrests the 
bad children, and brings them to Old King Cole. And here 
is the Giant of whom everybody is afraid. 

Here are three boys whom you know the policeman has 
to watch. Do you remember what Little Johnny Green 
did ? Yes, he is sometimes very cruel. And do you recall 
the lad who sat in the corner, and who was so greedy, 
and who boasted how big he was ? This, of course, is little 
Jack Horner. And this boy sometimes takes things, "stole 
a pig and away he ran." His name is Tom Piper. 

Here are three more whom you may like better. The 
little boy who blows his cheerful horn. Yes, Little Boy 
Blue. And who is his sister? Yes, he is the brother of 
Little Bo-Peep. Who is it that goes around in the night 
at eight o'clock, and doesn't want to go to bed ? Wee Willie 
Winkie. And this is the biggest of the boys Tommy 
Snooks. He and Bessie Brooks are sweethearts. Tommy 
is supposed to work for the Farmer. These boys and girls 
are never bad unless they drink of the Witch's brew. 

This is Sister Marie. (She may be explained either 
as a nurse or a deaconess.) She is always where there are 


people in sickness or trouble. She lives entirely for others. 
How beautiful she is! 

But who is this ugly creature? She belongs over here 
by the big kettle. This is the Witch. (Three witches may 
be used.) She certainly does not belong in the Kingdom 
of Love. In fact I must explain that all this corner around 
the Witch's brew is known as the Lonesome Land. It is 
very far, indeed, from the Enchanted Land, although as 
you will see, sometimes the children stray down into it. 

And last, with a tiny baby in her arms, comes the 
Lovely Lady. She is the mother of Ruth and Frank. She 
is your mother and mine, and when she comes into the King- 
dom with her children, it is always to protect them and to 
help them. 

Now, I want to tell you a little story which shows 
how a real boy and girl found their way into the Enchanted 
Land. (The statements in parentheses which follow are 
stage directions for the story-teller. Very few are given, 
so as not to interrupt the current of the story, but wherever 
action is suggested, the story-teller should imitate it by cor- 
responding action with the dolls who are being named.) 


Once there was a girl named Ruth (The story-teller 
stands Ruth near the front of the table, where the children 
can see her) who could see the fairies. She had a brother 
whose name was Frank. (Stand Frank on the smaller 
table or else upon the teacher's outstretched palm.) Frank 
could never see the fairies. Often Ruth would say to 
Frank, "Come over here through the Land of Make-believe 
where the leaves have fallen, and I will show you real, live 

Frank would try to follow her, but there always seemed 
to be a big white cloud between him and the Land of Make- 


believe. He would get as close as he could to Ruth, and 
then he would say, "Where are they?" 

"Hush!" she would whisper. "Breathe softly. Fold 
your hands so. Listen carefully, and I will tell you how 
to look for them. They are so beautiful, and oh! so tiny 
and sweet, dressed in green and brown, or sometimes in red 
and yellow. Their faces are so cute and smiling, and every 
minute they seem to change. When you know them, and 
can see them, they will seem to you like a beautiful dream. 
The brown and green will mix themselves so that you will 
think they are fallen leaves, shaken down by the wind, for 
they are continually dancing to the music of the breeze. 

Ruth would clasp her hands, and sit very still, with a 
happy expression on her face. 

"There! Did you not hear them? Can you not see 

But Frank would always say sorrowfully, "No, it's too 
bad, but I can't see them, and I don't believe in them." 

"What a pity for you, Frank. You believe in ugly 
things, and some of them you never saw, either. Well, 
I cannot lend you my eyes, nor make you love fairies, you 
do not understand what you miss. It is just as if you 
were blind, and could not see the flowers or the blue sky." 

One day when Ruth was at home (The story-teller sets 
Ruth down on the small table.) Frank was playing alone 
on the beach, building caves in the sand. He was lonesome. 
There was no fun playing in the water without Ruth. After 
a while he left the sand, and climbed the bank and found 
the nook where Ruth had told fairy tales so often. The 
leaves were scattered about. He gathered a mound of 
them, and with his curly head lying on his cap, and his 
round limbs half buried in the leaves, he decided that he 
would wait until the fairies came. If he could not go where 
the fairies were, perhaps they would come to him. "Ruth 
will be so pleased if I should see them," he thought. Soon 


Frank's eyes grew heavy. "I hope I am not going to 
sleep," he said slowly. 

All of a sudden Frank found himself in the Land of 
Make-believe. Some unseen hand seemed to be leading 
him forward. (The story-teller takes Frank across the 
bridge from the small table, to the Enchanted Land, and 
laying him down, covers him with leaves.) 

As soon as Frank had crossed over into the Enchanted 
Land, he felt a soft tap on his hand. Looking down, he saw 
a very tiny person smiling at him. 

"I am the Fairy Queen," she said. (Stand the Fairy 
Queen close to Frank.) 

Frank sat up, and found himself no larger than his 
small visitor. Then he noticed that the fairy looked very 
much like Ruth, only a thousand times smaller. 

"How are you, Fairy Queen?" he said boldly. 

"I am always well," she answered in a very sweet 
voice. "Frank, you may come with me and see all the 
fairies that visit these woods. They are all in Fairyland 

He took her little hand, and found himself able to 
move with a thought. Light as air, free as a sunbeam, 
happy as a bird, he floated through space with the Fairy 
Queen. (Suit the action to the words.) 

"Where is Fairyland?" he whispered softly. He had 
lost his big boyish voice. 

"Here we are !" said the Fairy Queen. 

Frank found himself in a high and beautiful place, 
which seemed to be above the clouds. Many bright colors 
danced before his eyes. He was at first too dazed to 
see clearly. When he became accustomed to the light 
he saw a cloud of tiny creatures coming toward them, 
merrily waving a welcome. (Move the Tiny Tots toward 
the Fairy Queen.) Coming near, they knelt an instant 
before the Queen, and then began the most bewildering 
fairy dance conceivable. Frank's feet danced in spite of 


I cannot begin to tell you of the adventures that fol- 
lowed. The Tiny Tots took Frank to the bottom of the 
sea, where he saw baby fairies, nestling among the sea- 
weeds, soothed by all the tender lullabies that the happy 
earth mothers sing to their babies. -They took him to 
mountain tops, where the other baby fairies were playing 
"Hide-and-Seek" among the clouds. They led him to the 
fairy kitchen, where fairy cooks were laboriously rolling a 
blue plum up an incline onto the edge of a table, preparing 
to make an enormous plum pudding. 

Finally, they took him to a broad meadow near a 
clear, silvery river. Here fairy boys and fairy girls were 
playing together. (Bring the Tiny Tots and Frank down 
to the table.) Frank seemed to have lost sight of the 
Fairy Queen. He played ball for a while with the fairy 
boys. And then they sat down on the grass beside the 
river, and told him about the wonderful moonlight feast 
that was to be held that evening. It seemed that the girl 
fairies would do the cooking, but some of the boy fairies 
were jealous, because they wanted to show that they were 
better cooks than the girls. 

"Why don't you rebel?" said Frank, in a bold voice 
as much as possible like that he had used before he came 
to the Enchanted Land. 

"What is 'rebel'?" asked one of the fairy boys. 

"I will show you," said Frank, throwing out his chest ; 
he wanted to show off a little to the boys. "It is like this :" 
and he opened his tiny mouth, and called as loud as he 
could, "Ha, ha! old Fairy Queen, we boys will make the 
cake to-night for the midnight party. Don't think you can 
command us" 

Before he had quite closed his naughty lips, he found 
himself as large as life. (The story-teller suddenly snatches 
Frank and the leaves, and holds them up in the air.) He 
looked about frightened. Not a fairy boy in sight! He 
ran as fast as he could to the edge of Fairyland. There 
was the cloud that had brought him safely across. He 


stepped upon it. He was too heavy, and went down, down. 
(Drop Frank slowly.) Now he is going through a damp 
fog that chills to the bone; then into glaring light, but 
always down and down, swiftly whirling round and round. 
Poor Frank ! He wondered if he would be crushed very 
much when he hit the ground. Soon he heard Ruth calling : 

"Frank ! Frank ! where are you ?" 

He was back again in the woods above the beach (Lay 
Frank down again among the leaves, and bring up Ruth.) 
and Ruth was beside him. When she had heard his story, 
and looked into his eyes, she saw that he was both happy 
and frightened. 

"I did see the fairies, Ruth," said Frank, "but I hol- 
lered at the Fairy Queen, and I think she sent me out of 
Fairyland. I guess the reason you are wiser than I is 
because you believe things so hard it makes them come 
true," Frank finished shyly. 

"And the reason why you seldom see things is because 
you doubt so strongly, they won't come true." 

They both laughed contentedly, and began clearing a 
space on the sand for cave building. 



To Mary Lowe the bottle characters are not a mere 
play, they are a life. She has given to them the same 
painstaking experiment that Froebel and Montessori did 
to the Kindergarten and the House of Childhood. She took 
four boys to bring up, and their home education was with 
the bottle people. For over a dozen years she has worked 
with groups of children, large and small, with her plan. 
In one instance at least, long enough so that the whole 
village of children was making bottle dolls. A number 
of these children had accumulated families of three hundred 
of them, and several years after Mrs. Lowe had gone away 
they were retelling her stories and telling their own. 

Out of this experience a number of convictions came to 
Mrs. Lowe. 


One of these convictions was that a child lives in a 
world of sentiment as well as of sense. She finds that the 
sentiments rule the senses. She is in unconscious harmony 
with G. Stanley Hall and other modern teachers who tell 
us that the most important part of education is the educa- 
tion of the heart and with that ancient philosopher of the 
Hebrews who said that "Out of the heart are the issues 
of life." She knows that the child will have to act in a 
workaday world, but she believes that his spirit both now 



and always may live in a world of fancy, not of disordered 
fancy but of poetic insight. She sides with Froebel rather 
than with Montessori in giving a distinct and large place 
to imagination, and she goes further than Froebel, because 
she shows how imagination may be cultivated until the 
twelfth or fourteenth year. "Make-believe," said Mary 
Lowe to me once, ' 'comes nearer to experience than any 
other condition of mind. Every child formulates in his 
imagination acts that he would never himself perform. But 
if he imagines them he is more likely to be willing to 
perform them. If we can devise a plan that will direct the 
imagination in right channels, we are not only giving 
the child imitation-experiences of what is good but we are 
inclining him to do what is good. In other words, the imag- 
ination should be as finely drilled as the reason." 


Another thing that Mrs. Lowe has noticed is that 
children are serious-minded people. We adults separate 
Sunday from the other days of the week, we distinguish 
between the sacred and the secular, we live hours when we 
are consciously good or bad and hours when we are uncon- 
scious of moral attitudes. Mrs. Lowe finds that children 
do not make these distinctions, which are wholly arbitrary. 
To us moral reflection is unnatural when we play, but to 
the child it is common. Indeed since he is playing most of 
the time he would not have much chance for such reflection 
otherwise. So for children to engage in play in which 
they find themselves judging moral issues is not unusual, 
but general. If you have listened to young children playing 
together you must have noted how often they judge them- 
selves or each other vocally. And this is the best way for 
them to learn to judge, for it is the active way. It would not 
be strange if a child would be advanced further in moral dis- 


criminations and demeanor by playing with bottle dolls 
than by sitting and listening to or watching the most expert 
Sunday school teacher. 


Mrs. Lowe's great contribution is that she has fur- 
nished to children during their most imaginative and dra- 
matic years a mimic world filled with people, in which they 
can become partners in realistic experiences that involve 
the principal problems of life. These experiences she 
enables them to have, as they must have them later, in the 
form of questions rather than of answers, and she depends 
upon that inner voice which was given the child at the 
start to tell for himself what those answers are. 

This is the essential contribution that Mrs. Lowe has 
made to education. The fact that her own characters are 
made of bottles rather than of bisque is a non-essential 
one. Bottles are common and cheap and it is an intellectual 
stimulus that the child should be forced to clothe them with 
life and with individual characteristics. But the material 
is a matter of personal choice. The choice of characters 
which she has made is non-essential. It was a happy 
thought that she should have chosen the characters of the 
best-known children's classics, associated already with 
jingles which just suggest personalities, but other charac- 
ters may be substituted or added, as she herself has done, 
so long as the children accept them and understand them. 
Her stories are the expression of her philosophy, but other 
stories could contain and do contain a good philosophy, and 
as the most valuable result in her experience has been that 
children compose stories which express their own philoso- 
phy, so she would be pleased if adult story-tellers should 
make up stories which even better express their philosophy 
or hers. Mrs. Lowe's stories are to be judged, as we judge 


Froebel's verses, not by literary standards but by one 
criterion only, whether they convey adequately to children 
what she has to say. It seems to the writer that they do. 
During the composition of this volume these stories, were 
used by an expert story-teller for six months in a circuit 
of a dozen towns, to which she returned at frequent and 
regular intervals, and her testimony was of growing en- 
thusiasm to the effect that no stories were equal to these 
simple ones of Mrs. Lowe's for use with her system. This 
story-teller herself has an unusual repertoire of child's 
stories and she used them and still uses some of them, but 
the stories of Mrs. Lowe proved after all to be fundamental 
and essential. Mrs. Lowe does not claim, any more than 
Froebel did, that her rhymes are poetry, but as she says, 
"Children get an idea through jingling verses quicker than 
any other way," and she just carries the Mother Goose 
method a little further. 

It seemed needful first to give the reader, for the sake 
of clear apprehension, the scheme as it is presented to 
children. Now for the philosophy which underlies the plan. 
The reader may use it or not as he chooses, but here it is 
and it is a good philosophy, and if it is absorbed in the 
story-teller's mind and heart it will, whether it is ever put 
into words or not to children, give a richer meaning to 
every use of the bottle characters. 


Mrs. Lowe's cosmogony, if we may use such a pre- 
tentious word, is this. The Enchanted Land represents 
the imagination of a child. This Land is entirely sur- 
rounded by the Land of Make-believe, because the En- 
chanted Land is a condition into which nobody can enter 
who cannot "believe." Outside this lies the everyday world, 
where we spend most of our time. In a special corner of 
the Land of Make-believe is the Lonesome Land, or the 


Land of Negation, as Mrs. Lowe sometimes has to call 
it, the land of wrong fancy and evil desire. It is in the 
Land of Make-believe because, as Mrs. Lowe says, "A real 
unbeliever makes believe more than anybody else." This is 
the land where the witches and other evils come from. 
Over all these lands is the Kingdom of Love, where the 
Invisible King watches and the Spirit of Love, represented 
by the Fairy Godmother, rules. In playing, the table repre- 
sents the Enchanted Land and the upper platform is a part 
of the Kingdom of Love. Just about the table is the Land 
of Make-believe through which the children pass to the 
Enchanted Land. From outside this boundary (perhaps 
from another table) come the witches, from the Lonesome 
Land, invading the Enchanted Land in that corner where 
they make their brew. The idea may be represented by 
chart (p. 204). 

The smaller table where the dolls are assembled before 
they are brought into action has no especial meaning in 
the allegory. The children simply think of it as "The 
place where the doll people go to sleep." Some story-tellers 
dispense with this spare table altogether and always assem- 
ble all the characters in their places in the Enchanted Land. 

You remember the description of the Enchanted Land 
(in Chapter XIX) before the witches entered. That Land 
represented the imagination of a child who does not yet 
know right from wrong. When the fire started that even- 
tually brought forth the witches (Mrs. Lowe does not go 
further into the question of the origin of evil) the innocent 
children fled. In their place came the more matured chil- 
dren of the Invisible King. These know the nature of the 
brew. What happened to Adam and Eve in the second 
chapter of Genesis happens to each individual of the race. 
Note especially that the children in the Enchanted Land 
have intelligent imagination. In the Land of Make-believe 
people may believe anything, in the Lonesome Land they 
believe in nothing. To believe in everything is bad, but to 
believe in nothing is fatal. In the Enchanted Land, which 





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is Life, over which Love broods, we may use imagination 
intelligently to choose the good and turn from the evil. 

The great value of Mrs. Lowe's philosophy as it is used 
with children is right here in helping them learn the first 
lessons of life's great moral duel. Somehow much of our 
moral and religious teaching of young children has no 
blood and iron in it. It is sentimental rather than intelli- 
gent. It makes excuses for children when they would 
not make excuses for themselves, for they are more keen 
about right and wrong than we know. In every story Mrs. 
Lowe has this underlying thought: a child may do some 
careless or foolish things, but he cannot do wrong unless 
he has tasted of the brew, and he never tastes of the brew 
unless he chooses to. So Mrs. Lowe from the start would 
build a life on the old majestic doctrine of the freedom of 
the will. Here is will training of the finest value. 


Several of the characters have import beyond the 
others. Frank and Ruth are Everyboy and Everygirl, and 
through their personalities the children project their own 
into the Enchanted Country. (Later some children prefer 
to identify themselves with other characters whom they 
learn to visualize even more strongly.) Frank and Ruth 
are naturally usually spectators rather than actors, because 
like the Greek Chorus they represent the attitude of the 
onlookers, and the story-teller uses them skilfully to say 
what he believes his real children are thinking. In their 
viewpoint Frank and Ruth represent what is often known 
as the masculine and the feminine attitude. Frank is the 
natural doubter and Ruth has the intuitive feeling for truths 
that are beyond human experience. At the close of one 
of Mrs. Lowe's stories Frank says to Ruth: "The reason 
why you are so wise is because you believe in things so 


hard that you make them come true," and Ruth replies: 
"And the reason why you so seldom see things is because 
you doubt so strongly, that they won't come true." These 
two attitudes are to be maintained in all their dialogues. 
The slow acceptance of Ruth's ideas is perfectly natural 
and impresses the child who follows the processes of 
Frank's thoughts. In the end he leaves the doubts to 
Frank and himself accepts the Ideal. 

If the Bottle People had been invented by a man, 
perhaps Frank would occupy a more glorious place in the 
story. The endeavors of Frank after knowledge might have 
had a more triumphant conclusion, because they were on the 
whole so praiseworthy. Indeed when a man tells these 
stories he may emphasize more strongly the masculine side of 
virtue. The Fairy Godmother may turn out to show the 
spirit of father-love as well as mother-love, King Cole may 
become a very wise and vigorous parent and even the 
Farmer may be vitalized to become quite a respectable and 
thoughtful adult companion to the children. All this goes 
to show that we each have our own world, and that what- 
ever it is like we may reproduce it with the Mother Goose 

Not much is said about the Invisible King. Beautifully 
Mrs. Lowe tells us that because he has the hearts of all 
children in his heart he of his own motion made the 
Enchanted Land in which each child may live. The Fairy 
Godmother or Fairy Queen has already been imagined by 
children always as being all that we call Providence, and 
we cannot better make the latter term vital. 

Buttercup is the better nature of the child that always 
speaks out when he is tempted to drink the brew. "It is 
part of ourselves, the something that makes for righteous- 
ness." Appropriately she lives close to the Fairy Queen. 
"She is not th'e child's Ego, but his character," his truest 
character. Ruth feels ; but Buttercup guides. 

If the upper platform is the Kingdom of Love, then 


the lower one where King Cole reigns is the Kingdom of 
Law. The children who will not be ruled by love must be 
ruled by law. 

The characters that are suggested and others that may 
be invented represent the commonest types of child charac- 
ter. The few adults give some chance for showing how the 
child comes into contact with the adult world. 

Literally, it must be confessed, each character is not 
so much a complete human personality as a type or ten- 
dency. Little Johnny Green, when under the influence of 
the brew, throws the cat into the well and he simply echoes 
that tendency to cruelty which a child recognizes as one 
of his own tendencies. Wee Willie Winkie wants to sit up 
after bedtime and thus represents the frequent wish in the 
child's own mind. It would take all the children of the 
doll characters to make one complete, well-rounded individ- 
ual. The child recognizes this and selects each doll for a 
special purpose somewhat as he selects a note upon the 
piano, combining it with others into a tune. 

Among all these Lena occupies a unique place. Lena 
represents the situation in which a child most often finds 
himself. She never drinks of the brew, but she often 
listens to what Puck whispers (and we all know what Puck 
is like) and so with perfectly good intention and complete 
fearlessness she often does what is unfortunate. She repre- 
sents the careless and inexperienced youngster who is con- 
stantly being surprised by his own actions and their conse- 
quences, and whose confession might well be that of the 
notorious Boss Tweed, "I tried to be good, but I had hard 

Mary Lowe once quoted Socrates to me, who said, "No 
young man can be a philosopher." And she added : "You 
can teach philosophy when you are young, but whether you 
are a philosopher only the test of experience can prove." 
Lena is, like other young people, learning through experi- 
ence a philosophy of life. 


"Lena is one of the characters who is never allowed 
to drink of the brew. When she does wrong the children 
all say, 'Oh, poor Lena! She doesn't mean to be bad/ 
No child really means to be bad, and only needs correction 
that it may learn to do good. There is nothing to blame 
a child or grown-up for but doing the wrong thing, in spite 
of Buttercup." 

Lena is evidently Mary Lowe's favorite. Indeed some- 
where she has confessed that she often sees her own self 
reflected in this eager, restless child. "Lena," she writes, "is 
the character that I was going to base the book on. The 
Lovely Lady goes with her. Because Lena was born with a 
lack, and the only hope for her is that she must be brought 
to realize herself and grow her own principles, the work of 
such persons as the Lovely Lady must be done with children 
like her." When Mary Lowe says that Lena was born with 
a lack, she does not mean that she was mentally lacking, or 
that, as Puck so often says, she is really "stupid Dutch 
Lena." She is, like all young children, not immoral, just 
unmoral, and the only reason Puck thinks her stupid is 
because she is inexperienced. From the adult standpoint 
little children often appear stupid ; they do need wisdom, 
but it can come only with years and adult guidance. 

Puck is the spirit of irresponsibility. He does not really 
love Lena, though he claims to. How can he, since he has 
never been willing to drink of the King's Potion ? He has 
not the evil character of the witches, for he never tastes 
their brew, but his mischief leads other people to drink it, 
and so he hardly shines in any fairer light than they. 


The witches are the avenue through which the child 
is led to do wrong. They are the voice of temptation. 
Their song is a chant in minor chords. Like the minor 
chords that are heard in the storm wind this harmony kis 


a charm of its own. The words which the witches use are 
good words, but they misrepresent and they are falsely 

When children learn about the brew in the stories and 
the harm of it, they always suggest: "Take the witches 
out." And when they insistently remain the children de- 
mand that none of the characters shall drink of it. Mary 
Lowe says that she is sure that if she ever allowed Frank, 
the Everyboy, to drink of the brew she "would lose the 
respect of many of her young friends." But, as in life, 
the brew is there and the witches are there, and "how," 
asks Mary Lowe; "in any other way could the children 
get anything more near to a real experience of life?" 

The Lonesome Land is lonesome not only on account 
of the lonely misery with which the child is familiar after 
he has done wrong, but for a deeper reason. It is the 
opposite of faith rather than of goodness. The lesson of 
life, of the Enchanted Land, is that of teachableness. Those 
in the Lonesome Land, who believe nothing, are the un- 

" They wrought in faith/ and not They wrought in doubt/ 
Is the proud epitaph inscribed above 
Our glorious Dead who in their grandeur lie, 
Crowned with the garland of Eternity. 
Because they did believe, and conquered Doubt, 
They lived great lives and did their deathless deeds." 

So Mrs. Lowe thinks, and she would build a child's faith, 
beyond creeds, in the basis of experiment and trust in the 
practicability and joy of right living. 

The brew is handled skilfully. The child may drink 
of it, but it is something separate from the child. This is 
important, for it helps the child to be less critical of others 
and to feel less resentment at human ill-doing, and it gives 
him hope to know that the brew is not his real self. 



The King's Potion too is well stated. Buttercup is 
incorruptible, she always guides aright, but after the child 
has partaken of the brew she is helpless. Only Love can 
devise a remedy, and she finds it from the King alone. 

"There is nothing to fear. 
Our King is greater than even black brew." 

This thought needs no enlargement. The Potion completes 
the lesson of hope. 

One more point. The Lovely Lady is the mother or 
the story-teller. She comes into the Enchanted Land with 
Ruth and Frank, and like them she is mostly an on-looker, 
though they may ask her 'to intervene with her mother love 
when some of the bottle people need her. But note. She 
is not there to interfere with Frank and Ruth. She watches 
the way life moves in the Land, and is a learner as well 
as her children. She helpes as a true learner can help, 
not as a dictator. We cannot dictate character to our chil- 
dren. They are made by their own choices. They may not 
become just what she wants them to be, but if they are 
guided aright they will become what their own best tenden- 
cies and qualities make them. The attitude of the true 
mother is that of a patient listener in the kingdom of life. 


As to whether Mary Lowe's stories have really ever 
done children good we get the best evidence in Chapter 
XXV, where some actual instances are given as to what 
they mean to the imagination, the constructive instinct and 
the moral motive of some of the children with whom she 
has lived. 


To-day we are pretty well agreed that the secret of 
good living is in the heart and the will, that what the heart 
loves the will will perform, and that the way to help the 
will perform is to give it actual exercise in willing. The 
finest road to right action is to give a child right actions 
to perform. But clear back where the child learns to know 
what the right is and to love it, much may be done. The 
trouble with most of our moral education, even moral 
education through stories, is that the child is perfectly 
passive and accepts what we tell him. Mary Lowe has met 
this difficulty and conquered it. In her system the children 
are perpetually and enthusiastically active. Their activity 
is not merely in making and moving the dolls a merely 
muscular activity, though that is something. But there is 
activity of will. Each child's imagination actively identifies 
himself with the hero of the story, much more than is 
possible in a story that is simply told. Here is the actual 
scene before him, here is the actual situation in the making, 
here is he down in the scene acting, suffering, being tempted, 
conquering or failing, and most of all deciding. The deci- 
sions of the character are his decisions. The judgment that 
is passed upon those acts is one that he passes himself. 
Mrs. Lowe says : "It has always been a notion of mine 
to allow the child to form its own idea whether a given 
act is wrong or not. If one of my boys asks me, 'Is that 
wrong?' to do as he did, my answer would be, 'Well, is it 
wrong you know.' I would tell stories concerning the 
nature of the act and compel them to decide for themselves. 
You see that it is natural that the truth should seem clearer 
to the mind that works it out for itself." 

It is not necessary in this kind of story-telling to Uirow 
in many moral observations. Children are as quick as 
older persons to grasp the allegory, and if it doesn't make 
itself clear as a story it isn't much of an allegory. 




NOTE: The characters in this story in the order of their ap- 
pearance are as follows: 




Johnny Green 

Boy Blue 

Farmer's Wife 



Fairy Godmother 

It is suggested that all the characters upon the two platforms 
be arranged in place before beginning the story, and that the chil- 
dren be scattered about the meadow. The Farmer's Wife should 
be at the house. When Frank and Ruth enter, they stop and look 
up at the Kingdoms and then are met by Bo-Peep and Johnny 
Green. The Witches are already stationed by the Brew. Buttercup 
comes clown at the moment indicated and returns to confer with the 
Fairy Queen. She brings down the Potion in a beautiful cup or 
vase. The mixing of the Potion is a very interesting ceremony 
to the children and they love to repeat the verse that is used at the 
time until they have memorized it. 

"Oh, Ruth! is this the Enchanted Land?" 
"I am sure it is, Frank. Up there is the Fairy God- 
mother. Below her is Old King Cole, and the Queen of 
Hearts, and Prince Charming. And oh ! look at the dear 
Tiny Tots, and all the people coming out of the house! 



I wonder if we know any of these other persons!" ex- 
claimed Ruth excitedly. 

"Here is Little Bo-Peep coming this way, I think," 
answered Frank. 

Ruth waited for Bo-Peep and Johnny Green to come 
near her. Frank heard Boy Blue call from a distance: 

"Bo-Peep! Bo-Peep! Mother wants you to come 
right away." And Bo-Peep ran home without saying a 
word to disappointed Ruth. 

The Farmer's Wife met her at the door. You know the 
Farmer's Wife? 

"Three blind mice, 

They all ran up to the Farmer's Wife, 
She cut their tails off with a carving knife. 
You never did see such a time in your life, 
As those three blind mice." 

Well, she was the mother of Little Boy Blue and 

"Oh, Mother! Must we work this beautiful day?" 
asked Bo-Peep. 

"Tut, tut! my child. Why, out on the green hills 
where the lambs frisk about among the daisies, and the rab- 
bits play games all their own, is it not fine to be there?" 
she asked. "Go get your sheep from the corral and drive 
them to the hills and keep them there. Little Boy Blue 
must go and keep the cows on the stubble down back of the 
big barn. There are a few sheep among them that your 
father will sell to-morrow." 

The children laughing gayly went on their way. Com- 
ing up to Ruth and Frank, who had been getting acquainted 
with Johnny Green, they called cheerily: 

"Come with us to the hills and gather daisies, won't 

"No, no," shouted Johnny. "We will all go around 
by the brown lane, and see the funny Witches who have 


camped there. We may see some one drink of the black 
brew it will be fun." 

Ruth and Frank did not like to go, and they said so. 

"Then you and Boy Blue come, Bo-Peep; you can 
return by the lower lane, and get your sheep out in plenty 
of time." 

"Well, it won't matter if we are a little late; Mother 
will not care." So the children hurried to get a glimpse 
of the wicked Witches. When they had come nearer to 
the camp, the odor of the brew filled the air and made 
them anxious to get nearer. Many persons were standing 
about. A great kettle was steaming over a slow fire, and 
queer Witches were stirring a very black-looking broth; 
their grim faces were intent on the children and the mixing 
of the brew. They mumbled as they worked. 

Bo-Peep shivered slightly, and stood nearer Johnny. 
Boy Blue was so young and small that he did not know 
the danger as the others did. 

"My, but it does smell nice !" he murmured wistfully. 

Will no one save the children? Must they drink the 
evil brew, and be poisoned? 

Bo-Peep began to notice that the old Witches did not 
look so horrible as they did at first, and the brew did 
smell nice it wasn't so very black, either. Just then she 
heard the Witches sing: 

"Come, little children, dear little children 
Drink of the brew. 
Everyone uses it, 
No one refuses it, 
Why should you?" 

"Could we not take a tinty, weenty bit?" coaxed Boy 

Swiftly down the lane came Buttercup. The King had 
given the children into her charge. Breathlessly she called 
down to them: 


"Come, dearest, your mother is waiting for you. 
Beware of the Witches don't drink of the brew. 
The birds and the flowers, the grass and the wood, 
All filled with joy for love of the good, 
Are calling for you." 

The children thought it was a great pity to be disturbed 
just when things seemed so happy. Bo-Peep turned to the 
coming child, and said angrily : 

"Oh, Buttercup, go, 
You bother us so, 
Just for this once, 
Don't be such a dunce 
We will take only a drop of the brew, 
No one will know of our drinking but you." 

Then the Witches' enticing chant was heard again : 

"Sweet children, partake of this liquid so rare, 
Your hearts will be brave, to do and to dare ; 
Your chains will be broken, your life will be free. 
Come drink to your mother, your playmate, and Me." 

The children crept still closer to the brew, and they 
did not heed the cry of Buttercup who kept pleading: 
"Dear little ones, come! Think of your homes!" Her 
words were drowned in the louder chant of the Witches, 
who sang: 

"The Brew is like wine 
Like good, sweet wine, 
Oh, it is fine ! 
Come taste it and use it, 
Please don't refuse it! 
There's nothing to harm, 
It works like a charm. 
Nice little children, drink of the Brew, 
It makes all your wishes and dreams come true!' 


And the children replied: 

"Go away, Buttercup, 
We are sorry for you, 
But nothing will keep us 
From drinking the Brew." 

Crowding close to the kettle, the children each tasted 
the brew that could bring nothing but evil to their hearts. 
Frank and Ruth, who had watched them from the hillside, 
turned away with tears in their eyes, for they understood. 

At once Johnny looked about for some mischief to 
do. He spied Mother Hubbard's dog chasing a cat down 
the lane. 

'There's Jack Spratt's little old cat I'll kill it, -you 
bet." He caught it as it came around the corner. 

"Do not hurt it," pleaded Buttercup. "Please, Johnny, 
put it down." 

He would not listen. The black brew was taking 
effect. Coming to a well (represented, perhaps, by a small 
jar without a top), he threw the cat down into the water. 
The poor kitty cried and cried, until she was almost 
exhausted, before Jimmy Stout came that way after a while, 
and nearly lost his life getting it safely out of the water. 

Off in the distance the children could be heard singing : 

"Ding-dong bell ! Pussy's in the well. 
Who put her in? Little Johnny Green. 
Who took her out? Little Jimmy Stout." 

Bo-Peep hurried through the valley, and managed to 
get the sheep out on the hills before her mother noticed 
how long she had been doing her work. Boy Blue finally 
got his cows and sheep together, but he felt so cross and 
fretful that at last he lay down by a big hay-stack, and was 
soon fast asleep. 

In the meantime Johnny Green came to the place 


where the daisies grew. There he found Bo-Peep reading 
a book full of witch stories. 

"I believe I would rather be bad than good," she told 
Johnny Green. "I am going to put on a red gown and 
wear a funny tall cap, and be a witch, too. Then I will 
coax all the children to drink of the brew until every one 
of them has tasted of it. And when they are cross, I will 
Well, maybe I won't kill them what could we do to 

"Behead them!" answered Johnny promptly. "Then 
they will go around headless. I was reading that wicked 
queens always behead their unruly subjects. I guess I'll 
be a Witch King. Say, Bo-Peep, I threw Jack Spratt's cat 
in the well." 

"Oh ! Johnny Green, what will your mother do to 

"Maybe I won't go back home any more maybe I'll 
just go away and see things." 

This was a new thought to Bo-Peep. 

"Let us both run away!" she said. 

So Johnny and Bo-Peep climbed over the daisy-covered 
hills, and left the sheep to stray where they would. 

When the sun had tucked all the little birds and animals 
into bed, and was about to snuff out his light, he noticed 
Johnny and Bo-Peep sitting on a rock, lonely and weary. 
Their little faces were tear-stained, and their tired eyes 
turned to him frightened. 

"Don't go down," they pleaded. "We are so afraid 
in the dark." But the sun wouldn't stay one minute longer, 
for he had not taken any of the brew, he would not 
disobey his King, who had told him to leave this land 
every evening, and come back every morning. So the dark 
came and covered the children like a veil. And one by. 
one the stars came out, and then the moon sailed proudly 
in sight. They had done no wrong ; they were not afraid 
they were shining patiently in their places. 

As Johnny and Bo-Peep looked up at the stars they 


thought of this, and the stain of the black brew seemed to 
make their little hearts ache. 

"Let's go home again, Bo-Peep; if my mother whips 
me hard maybe the tears will help wash away the ache that 
the brew makes in my heart." 

"Maybe it would," answered Bo-Peep sorrowfully. So 
they trudged all the dreary way back again over the daisy- 
covered hills to their homes. 

When Bo-Peep had come to her own door, she heard 
her father say : 

"Little Bo-Peep 
Has lost her sheep, 
And don't know where to find them." 

And from outside the door Bo-Peep answered with 
tears in her voice : 

"Let them alone, 
For they'll come home, 
And bring their tails behind them." 

You may remember how once upon a time Bo-Peep's 
mother, the Farmer's Wife, cut off the tails of some mice 
with her carving knife. She was a very decided person. 
She was frightened because Bo-Peep was gone after dark, 
and she was afraid that her little girl had been doing some- 
thing even worse than neglecting her work. 

"Did you go down the valley and drink of the Witch's 
brew?" she asked. 

"Yes, I did." You wouldn't be surprised if I told you 
that Bo-Peep's mother gave her a shaking, and after a 
supper of bread and milk, sent her right off to bed. But 
Bo-Peep's heart was nowhere near so troubled by the shak- 
ing as it was when she heard her mother downstairs sobbing, 
"Oh ! where is Little Boy Blue not home yet ; something 
has happened to my little boy, I know." 

Bo-Peep crept quietly out of bed, and slipped down 


to the barn to look for him, for she knew it was all her 
fault that he had drank of the brew that day. And she 
thought, too, that perhaps she could find him. In a little 
while she heard the cow bell dingle-dingle in the corn field. 
And she saw the white sheep her father was going to sell 
bleating over in the green meadow. She was going to drive 
them back where they belonged, when her troubled eyes 
caught the shine of a little horn down beside the haystack. 
Coming nearer, she found Boy Blue fast asleep. Then she 
sang merrily : 

"Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, 
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. 
Is this the way to tend your sheep, 
Under the haystack fast asleep?" 

Just then Bo-Peep's mother, the Farmer's Wife, came 
running up to them. She kissed Boy Blue, and threw her 
arms about both her children and murmured, "What will 
the Fairy Godmother say to me for not watching over my 
little ones ?" 

That night as they lay down to rest Bo-Peep said sadly, 
"What can we do to take the ache out of our hearts, Boy 

But neither of them knew. Although they had both 
tried, still they felt the dark stain there. 

But Buttercup did not forget the children. She had 
gone to the Fairy Godmother and mournfully said : 

"Oh! Fairy Godmother, the wicked old Witches 

Have given our children a taste of the brew, 
The cruel dark stain must ever remain, 

No one can save them, dear mother, but you." 

The Fairy Godmother looked lovingly at Buttercup, 
and replied cheerfully: 

"Oh ! Buttercup, dear, there is nothing to fear, 
Our King is far greater than even black brew. 


In every dark hour, he gives us the power 
To wish for a blessing and make it come true." 

"Call good little Alice to bring out the Chalice." 
Buttercup flew to do her bidding. Then Alice of 
Wonderland brought the King's Chalice, and set it before 
the Fairy Godmother, who had the magic power to mix 
the King's Potion. As she dropped into the golden vessel 
the precious liquid, she was heard to say slowly, as she 
mixed it: 

"Pour Mercy, and Peace, and Justice herein, 
We add to the Potion pure heartfelt Devotion, 
Now put in the mixture much Sorrow for Sin, 
The Chalice we fill with Love and Good Will. 
Pour all in the jar you bring, 
Now dip in a cup and each take a sup, 
Then close with the Seal of the King." 

Then the Fairy Godmother carefully gave the Chalice 
into the hands of Buttercup, and told her quickly to give 
it to the children, who had drank of the Brew, so that 
the curse of the Witches might be removed. 

Buttercup knelt down beside the little bed containing 
the two sad, sleepless children, and said with a bright 
smile : 

"See! Here is the King's Potion. You may drink 
of it, and your hearts will be white once more, and all 
the pain and worry will be gone." 

So they drank of the golden cup, and all the pain was 
taken out of their hearts. 

"Oh! Buttercup, please go to Johnny Green's house, 
and let him drink, too," pleaded Bo-Peep. 

Don't you think that Johnny Green was glad to drink 
of the precious Potion? 

When the good sun looked down on the Enchanted 
Land the next morning, he saw three very happy children, 
who were very careful to keep away from the valley of 
the Witch's Brew. 



NOTE: Mrs. Lowe shows us in this story how one of the Old 
Mother Goose rhymes may be made into a prose story, and told 
with the aid of the bottle people. 

This is what the moon saw. It all happened in the 
Enchanted Land. 

One evening the Farmer called Bo-Peep from the 
meadow where she had been telling Boy Blue a story. They 
promptly obeyed his call, and were both soon in bed fast 
asleep. When the Farmer closed the shutters for the night 
he thought that the moon had winked at him, but he could 
not be quite sure. Soon the whole house was silent, and 
every one slumbered. 

Puck was standing beside the tent of the Witches, and 
the four of them seemed to be plotting something. Finally, 
it was agreed what the sport of the night should be. One 
of the Witches was to turn herself into a fox, and visit 
the Farmer's geese and make trouble. 

(Since we are in the Land of Make-believe, a Witch 
may look like a fox if she pleases. But a Witch is still a 
Witch, so the children will see her as she is, but the Farmer 
will be fooled.) 

So pretty soon the Witch came to the edge of the 
town. (She is a fox now.) 

"The fox jumped up on a clear bright night, 
The stars were shining all things right. 
'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'It's a very fine night 
For me to go through the town, heigho !' " 

Now I see the fox creeping, creeping, sneaking, sneak- 
ing over the stile, across the meadow, making his way 
to the Farmer's house. 

"The fox, when he came to yonder stile, 
He lifted his ears, and he listened a while. 


'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'It's but a short mile 
From this to yonder town, heigho !' " 

Now the Fox- Witch goes to the children's play-house. 
He would not dare do that if Boy Blue were awake. See, 
he is looking in the window, and now he tries the door. 
Ah! The Farmer built his house strong and well. The 
Witch need not try to get in. I guess the Farmer knows ! 

Now the Fox- Witch goes back of the house. Here 
are the geese all cuddled down to sleep on a flat board next 
to the fence. The drake is roosting like a watchman on 
the back gate, but he is beginning to sleep, too. 

"The fox when he came to the farmer's gate, 
Whom should he see but the farmer's drake; 
'I love you so well for your master's sake, 
And long to be picking your bones, heigho !' " 

The drake did not want his bones picked, so he woke 
up and tried to get away. All the other geese woke up and 
hurried and scurried, too, and the fox after them, especially 
after the biggest and fattest old gray goose. 

"The gray goose ran right around the haystack. 
'Ho, ho!' said the fox. 'You are very fat; 
You'll do very well to ride on my back, 
From this unto the town, heigho !" 

Then oh, the cackling, the fussing and quacking! The 
gray goose flew over the fence, and the fox leaped over 
after her. The gray goose ran around a bush, and the fox 
ran around the bush, too. The gray goose was getting 
out of breath, but the fox was just as fresh as ever. 

The Farmer's Wife, that staunch, brave woman, who 
could calmly cut off the tails of three blind mice if neces- 
sary, would never allow a mere fox such liberties. Boy 
Blue half woke up, and wondered in a sleepy way if it 
was Thanksgiving-time, and all of the geese and chickens 
were going to lose their heads. He wasn't afraid, for there 


were Mother and Father to look after them. Little Bo-Peep 
was so very tired that she did not wake up at all, and 
knew nothing about it until morning. 

"The farmer's wife she jumped out of bed, 
And out of the window she popped her head. 
'Oh, husband! Oh, husband! The geese are all dead, 
For the fox has been through the town, heigho!'" 

Then the Farmer quickly arose, and loaded the little 
pistol that was always tucked over the door, and went 
quietly out. Boy Blue drowsily heard the door crack, and 
was just about to drop into a deep slumber when Bang! 

"The farmer loaded his pistol with lead, 
And shot the old rogue of a fox in the head. 
'Ah, ha!' said the farmer. T think you're quite dead, 
And on more you'll trouble the town, heigho!'" 

So the Farmer came back to the house and went to 
bed again. But by this time Boy Blue was wide awake, 
and he tumbled into his clothes, and hurried down to ask 
his father what was the matter. The Farmer woke up long 
enough to tell him how he had killed the old red fox, just 
in front of the house. He did not know that the fox was 
the wicked old Witch, for she could make people see 
things just as she wanted them to. So back went the 
Farmer and his boy to sleep. 

The next morning when the Farmer opened the shut- 
ters of his house before day-break, he fancied that the 
moon winked at him again. She may have done so, for just 
as soon as all was quiet the Witch got up on her feet and 
ran straight back to her tent. When the Farmer came out 
in the morning to pick up the fox's body, and nail the 
skin to his barn door, there was no fox there. It seemed 
to the old Witch that it was not a very good joke after 
all for the Farmer to come put and frighten her half to 
death when she was only trying to have a little fun, and 
just to think that not one of the geese was hurt ! 



As has been suggested, not only may all stories be 
told with bottle dolls, but nearly all can be told with refer- 
ence to Mrs. Lowe's allegory. In Emilie Poulsson's collec- 
tion there is a charming story by Raymond M. Alden, 
entitled "How the Chimes Rang." It tells of a magic 
country in which the church chimes would ring only when 
an unselfish deed had been done. It pictures the people 
meeting in church, and the rich, the wise and the proud 
bringing their gifts, to all of which the chimes were silent, 
because theirs were the gifts of self-seeking. But a little 
poor boy who had been kind to his brother and to a lost dog 
sets the chimes ringing when he enters the church. To 
tell this story, "the church" and congregation are easily 
arranged, and it remains only to suggest that the selfish 
people had drunk of the "brew" and to suit the action to 
the word to make the story wonderfully effective. 

Sarah Cory Rippey has written a unique little story 
book entitled "The Goody-Naughty Book," published by 
Rand, McNally & Company, Chicago. 

The "good side" of the book contains eight simple 
stories which would be excellent to tell to young children, 
to give the adventures of bottle characters who have never 
forgotten to listen to the whispers of Buttercup, while the 
"naughty side" contains as many simple and natural stories 
which illustrate the mischances of little folks who have 
so far forgot themselves as to drink the Brew. 

A number of story-tellers have become very enthusiastic 
about the possibility of telling some of the Bible stories 
with the character dolls. This graphic use of material 
figures would be suitable, for obvious reasons, chiefly with 
the Old Testament stories. Perhaps the best of the Bible 
stories for bottle character presentation is the favorite 
story of David. The young shepherd is naturally placed 
in the meadow of the Enchanted Land, and the home at- 


mosphere is given by a scene at the house. The child's own 
favorite would be the hero, Boy Blue, who himself was a 
shepherd, or Prince Charming or Frank. We have the 
Giant Goliath ready to hand. The king is our Old King 
Cole, who is kind until he drinks of the brew, when his 
madness overcomes him. The story of Joseph, the finest 
tale in all literature, may be told by these means, though it 
may be hard to conjure up enough wicked brothers without 
manufacturing some new characters for the purpose. But 
a special set of bottle people, to play with only on Sunday, 
embodying the leading types of character in the Old Testa- 
ment, would not be a bad acquisition to any household. 

Perhaps the most practical way to show how other 
stories may be told with the bottle people is by turning to 
the stories which children have actually told, given in Chap- 
ter XXV; the programs in Appendix IX, also some of the 
other familiar and favorite children's stories, which may 
easily be told with the bottle people without special direc- 


It is now time to tell how bottle dolls are made. The 
only materials required are small-sized empty bottles 
(round bottles should be used if possible, as these stand 
better), white lawn, a little cotton batting for filling, scraps 
of paper and cloth for garments, and some thread, glue, pen 
and ink. Set a bottle before you ; then take a square piece 
of cloth large enough to make the head and shoulders the 
size the bottle suggests. To make the head, pack the cotton 
firmly in the center of the cloth, and fold the cloth over 
and tie it in the shape of a ball. Make the heads of different 
shapes and sizes. Place cotton inside a small piece of 
pink outing flannel to form the chin and the lower part of 
the face. Over this lay a three-cornered piece of pink lawn 
to give a flesh color effect. Bias the edge well under the 
chin. Tie the long ends behind the head, and pull the 
remaining end of the cloth over the top of the head and 
sew tightly. Now tie the bias edge of the cloth firmly under 
the chin, leaving no wrinkles. 

Use paper to shape the shoulders and bust. Then tie 
this head-and-shoulder piece on the neck of the bottle. 
Paste over all but the head a strong piece of paper. Now 
clothe the doll in paper or cloth, according to notion. Arms 
may be empty if something is placed about the shoulders 
to give the suggestion that arms are there. With a pen 
sketch eyes, nose and mouth, trying to make different fea- 
tures for different characters. 

The following colors are appropriate for characters : 


Fairy Godmother and her Tiny Tots, Mary Contrary, 

Wee Willie Winkie, Mrs. Horner and Jack 

o' Hearts, all in white. 
King, purple and black. 
Queen, red and gilt. 
Guards, black and gilt. 
King's Messenger and Jack Horner, gray. 
Puck, and Little Miss Muffet, pink. 
Alice of Wonderland, blue. 
Buttercup, yellow. 
Ruth, light blue. 

Lovely Lady, white lawn, with small pink figure. 
Policeman, dark blue or black. 
Mother Hubbard, blue, with a light calico apron. 
Polly Flinders, dark blue dress, with long white cape. 
Farmer, Tommy Snooks and Little Boy Blue, dark 

blue overalls and light shirts. 
Little Bo-Peep, black and white check. 
Farmer's Wife, brown and green. 
Lena, and Red Riding Hood, red and white. 
Frank, Jack the Giant Killer, Tom Piper, and Johnny 

Green, brown. 

Sister Marie, black and white. 
Bessie Brooks, red check dress, with white apron. 
Witches, green and red. 



Mrs. Lowe has made bottle-doll play even more fas- 
cinating by planning for accessories and scenery. Mrs. 
Lowe's boats were made of tiny boxes, also her sleighs, 
wagons and trains of cars. She said it did not detract 
from their value when wagons that were used to bring 
a load of merrymakers to grandma's were turned upside 
down to serve as their table to eat from. It will add 
much to the interest of the play if simple backgrounds are 
built up out of common nursery material, such as table 
covers laid over blocks and boxes for undulating plains, 
using boxes to represent houses and furniture, twigs for 
shrubs and trees, and having carts, cars and doll furniture 
take their silent part in building a scenic effect. 

The house, which is essential to bottle scenery, may be 
made of a shoe box, somewhat decorated with cut-out win- 
dows and doors or of a toy house in the child's own collec- 
tion. When the compiler of this book was trying out the 
plan with some expert story-tellers a very elaborate doll 
house was sent to them for this purpose. The story-tellers 
already had a very simple contrivance which Mrs. Lowe 
herself had fashioned out of pasteboard. When the chil- 
dren were asked, as they were in several towns, which house 
they preferred they always asked for Mrs. Lowe's. They 
seemed to want to exercise their imaginations on something 
that was not too complete and ready-made. 

A novel book by E. Nesbit, published by George H. 


Doran^ Company, New York, entitled "Wings and the 
Child," tells how to make an elaborate background which 
would be most attractive for bottle doll play out of such 
objects as nursery blocks, call bells, books, sand, and various 
bright-colored junk such as is found in every child's toy 
box and every attic. 

The pot for the witches' brew should be a very homely 
utensil. A small tin cup painted black inside is excellent, 
because even clear water will look black inside it. The 
Chalice should be a beautiful vessel. A bright copper 
match safe or a small silver vase will do. 

A river may be indicated by a bank made of paste- 
board boxes, laid zigzag, over a space in the center. A 
well may be made by placing square boxes as curbing. 
When figures must go into the river they are taken over 
the bank. If the object is to be unseen in the well, make 
the curbing hig"h. 

In order to fit the character dolls to every sort of story, 
let us give some miscellaneous directions. 

Do not keep too many animals or articles on the table. 
Have a place provided to keep them. Use as needed. 

Use twigs for trees, and place them in spools, wrapped 
in green. They may stand where you want them. 

A collection of toy-animals should be called for from 
the children, who will take more interest if they are a 
part of the little world. 

The toys must fit the dolls in size. 

Make it a point to have everything that can be procured 
to fit any story. If a fire is needed where it can be seen, 
use red and gilt paper. If a fence is spoken of, make a 
fence of toothpicks. 

If a figure needs disguising for a time, cut a half circle 
of cloth, cut the neck out of the center of the straight side 
and pin on the figure; then twist a bit of tissue paper 
about the head to form hat and bonnet. 

If a babe is needed to complete a family, take one 
from the Fairy Godmother. If a ragged child is called 


for, do the same; make two smaller circles for cloaks, and 
have them ragged, and fasten at neck and waist line. 

When soldiers are needed, put uniforms, cut poncho 
style, over the shoulders of a lot of the male characters. 

When an angel is needed, use Alice of Wonderland. 
If more than one, use Buttercup, Puck or the Fairy God- 

When a "store" is needed, pin a straight cloth above 
the house and print the name on it. If store and house 
both, then have one in stock, and be up to date. 

When a story tells of the inside of a house, place 
toothpicks to form plan of the house, with one or more 
rooms. If a figure must go upstairs, lift it quickly and 
place in the next room. This seems realistic. 

If school or church are in a story, place the people in 
rows, as in "meeting," and have the actors quite visible 
to the audience. Omit no detail that it is possible to put 
into the action of the story. 

Make houses to represent a certain neighborhood, then 
name the dolls for people living there. Tell of some inci- 
dent that has happened there. 


Learn the dolls by name. 

When choosing a character for a new story tell the 
name of the doll, and speak of the change something like 
this : "In the story I will tell you, Jack the Giant Killer 
will take the character of Tommy." They already love 
Jack and are interested in his success. 

When introducing a character, place it in the middle 
of the space, holding by thumb and finger at its back, and 
have it face the audience whenever possible. 

Do not place a thumb over its face when holding it. 
Some do. 

Do not read a story and use the dolls at the same 

Make dolls move in the center space whenever pos- 
sible. Anything may be moved on the table to another 

When hats are adjustable on dolls, remove them some- 

When, in being moved through space, a doll knocks 
another out of place, have it excuse itself. 

When a figure is to lift or hold any article, hold the 
object so that it seems to be held by the doll. When any- 
thing is thrown, this must be done the same way. 

When the Giant steals one of the Tiny Tots, let him 
slip up and take her under his arm when Lena is not 
looking. This is an exciting moment for the children. 
They love action when nothing is being said. 

You may use a doll for the liveliest action in a given 



story, and then suddenly say, "So he left them all, and 
never returned." And just lift the little figure that was a 
moment ago full of life, and set it over on a shelf. No 
one finds any inconsistency in the action, because the doll 
has simply left the Enchanted Land and gone back to the 
everyday world. 

When a good description is given in a story, do not 
leave any of it out because the doll cannot be made to act 
it. Just make a gesture with your own hand and go on. 

Never forget that the story is of more importance 
than the doll. 

If you wish to tell a story in which there is practically 
no action, or to recite a poem, use two solid boxes, one flat, 
for platform, and one high, for the back of it; these will 
form a mimic stage. Then place three or more figures on 
it, as if sitting in a half circle. Allow each one of these in 
turn to recite one of the little poems, taking care that each 
"child" shall tell something suitable for her size and sort. 
This will prove interesting, and there is no story that may 
not be told thus, if it is not possible to tell it with the bottle 
dolls in action. 

Sometimes Mrs. Lowe lets little people just talk to 
each other, and say the things the children are anxious to 
know. Let Little Boy Blue get lost, and tell how he feels, 
and how his mother worries over him, and the sadness 
of Little Bo-Peep and then let them find him. 

You begin to see the vividness of this kind of play. 
What is taking place mentally is very interesting. The 
child is in a society of many imaginary companions to 
whom he lends real attributes and powers. Since these 
characters are constant, but their adventures vary, he can 
and does take these mimic friends with him day after 
day into every story and game he wishes to play. 


When the writer first learned, quite by accident, of this 
unique system of story-telling through play, it was through 
a friend who came to the town where Mrs. Lowe had lived, 
three years after she herself had removed, and found the 
children to whom Mrs. Lowe had explained the bottle 
characters, after three years' absence, retelling them and 
telling some of their own. 

This was gratifying to Mrs. Lowe, for she had said, 
"You see, I want the children to create a little world of 
their own. When you have made the plan their own, they 
will have a real basis to their system. You do not teach the 
children ; they catch the idea from you how to teach them- 
selves. They will tell little stories, and begin to put out 
their own ideas, and make characters to fit if they are 
encouraged. All the teacher has to do is to fill the child 
with faith in itself." Mrs. Lowe favors having the dolls 
made by the children. They should create their world and 
inhabit it. The characters are not to be mere playthings, 
but an incentive to actual labor. They will not work half 
so hard if they have all they want at the beginning. 


While an adult tells the story she should be mindful 
to ask her little crowd as many questions as they ask her. 
The story-telling should always become a dialogue. To 



encourage this even further, Mrs. Lowe says, "Whenever a 
child asks me a question I find it always best to let another 
child answer if possible, or to let the questioner figure out 
some sort of answer to his own question, while I suggest 
as little as possible/' 

Mrs. Lowe has had many interesting experiences in 
getting the children themselves to take part in this kind of 
play. She finds only three rules necessary: 

1. When a character has partaken of the brew, it 
must afterward have a chance to partake of the King's 

2. The child must be allowed to use the most active 
personages the Fairy Godmother, the Buttercup, the 
Witch, and Puck at any time in the story, but must never 
change their characters. 

3. The older Playfellow may best help the child to 
invent by selecting the characters, but not over five at first, 
and beginning the story. In order that the mind of the 
child shall have something to act with, small boxes or mis- 
cellaneous chips may be laid upon the table to assist the 

When encouraging a child to tell stories who has no 
special story in mind to tell it is well to put a number 
of small articles on the tables with but a few characters. 
He can manage to find uses for the things easier than for 
the folks, and the former will suggest activities to him 
for the latter. 

Below is a story given word for word as it was told 
recently to Mrs. Lowe by a child hardly nine years old. 


"I placed three empty boxes on the table beside Mother 
Hubbard, Father Time, Wee Willie Winkie and Boy Blue. 
I started the story: 


"One day Wee Willie and Boy Blue went to visit their 
grandma" Maggie took up the theme : 

" in the country. Willie is a very little boy, so he is 
in bed yet. (This white box will be the bed.) Now 
Grandma says to Boy Blue, 'Call Wee Willie, and go wash 
your hands and face, for breakfast is ready.' (I will use 
this brown box for a table.) 'Come on, Wee Willie, you 
lazy boy. Grandma won't care if you eat with your night- 
gown on, for she is in a hurry to attend to the milk/ 
'Stand around this table. Here is Ruth she is me now 
she is knocking at the door,' she is a lady, you know. 

' 'Come in,' says Grandma. 'You are quite early this 
morning, dear, how is your mamma?' 

' 'She is very well, but she is having quite a time with 
the baby, he is cutting his teeth now, and is dreadful cross.' 

" That is too bad have a cooky, Miss Ruth (Play 
this was a cooky) that the baby has the measles, and 
the whooping cough, and is all broke out with the hives, 
she can't make any pies to-day.' Now Boy Blue has 
eaten up all of the cookies, and Wee Willie has got milk 
all over his nightgown, but Grandma does not care for 
that, for she knows that the children haven't had a chance 
to drink any brew this morning, and you know that a child 
has got to drink brew before he can be bad on purpose. 

"So now they all go out to play. First they play 
'Puss in the Corner.' Wee Willie will stand here, Boy Blue 
will stand in this corner, and these two boxes will be two 
more children. Now Ruth will be Pussy Ruth is me. 
Tussy Wants a Corner/ (This is played until all change 

"Now they go to the barn and swing. This spool will 
do for the barn. Now let Wee Willie swing first, he is 
the littlest. ( She fancies the swing, and they are all swayed 
back and forth for a while.) 

" 'Oh, there is the horse all hitched up, we will go 
riding/ That's what Boy Blue says. But Ruth says, 'Won't 
your Grandpa be mad?' But anyway they all climbed in 


this big box play it was a new buggy and then they go 
down this street and this one and then on into the world 
of Make-believe, and on and on but we do not see any 
Ogres or Goblins, but we hurry back, and the horse goes 
faster and faster until he gets all tired out, and then we 
all go home. They put the horse in the barn play this stick 
was a horse and we give him corn. Now they hear 
Grandpa calling awful cross, for he has found out they had 
the horse out, so now they Oh, Mrs. Lowe, I forgot the 
brew." "No matter, just finish anyway." 

"Well, they go to the house, and Grandpa is angry 
and so is Grandma. 'Ruth, you go straight home,' she 
says, 'and these children must play on the back porch 
the rest of the day. That's all, for I can't give Ruth any 
potion, because she didn't take any brew.' Then one of 
the boys, one with freckles, snorted, 'Well you had better 
give her a sip of the potion anyway, for she must have 
sneaked a little of the brew somewhere, for she knows she 
did wrong, if she's got any sense.' ") 

In actual use the told story will differ from these 
written ones chiefly in this, that when a story is told there 
is much more dialogue, not only between the characters 
but between the story-teller and the children. The story- 
teller should accept just as many suggestions from the 
children as possible regarding word and action, so long as 
they do not alter the trend of her story. 

We certainly can do much for a child's development 
if we help him become a creative story-teller. The char- 
acter dolls give a child a good chance to bring in other 
objects so that it seems to become easier for him to form 
a plot of a story, and the telling will not only discipline 
the child himself, but will give the listener a glimpse of 
the child's tendencies that might otherwise remain a mys- 



There is a simple little story told by Genevieve, seven 
years old. It brings out a beautiful lesson of consideration 
and helpfulness with a slight sense of humor. 

Characters : 

Farmer's Wife. 
Boy Blue. 
Tiny Tots. 
Bo- Peep. 

Articles used: 

Stove, a square black box. 

Table, a pasteboard box, with sides and ends cut out. 

Couch, side of a long box cut out, and ends slanted, 

resting upon an inverted lid. 
Cupboard, a box with pasteboard shelves pressed 

tightly into this. 
Cradle, small box, with rockers cut in half circles and 

placed in a slit at each end of the bottom. 
Stand, small box. 

"Dear me!" says the Farmer's Wife. "I have such a 
dreadful headache I must go and lie down a while." So 
she will lie on this couch. Bo-Peep must get dinner now, 
for her mamma is ill. 

"Will you have some tea, Mamma?" said Bo-Peep. 
No, Boy Blue says that, for little boys always worry when 
their mamma is sick. 

"Yes, I will take some tea, I think." 

So Bo-Peep put this dish on the stove (play it was a 
tea-pot) and the tea was soon done. Then she took it to 
her mamma, and placed it on the stand beside her. Now 


Bo-Peep goes and puts the baby to sleep, so Mamma will 
not be disturbed. (Sings) 

"By-O baby bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting, 
To get a little rabbit skin, 
To wrap the baby bunting in." 

"Now I will get dinner and clean up the house." 

This is meat that Bo-Peep is putting on to fry. Now 
she will set the table. She tells Boy Blue to get the kindling, 
but he won't, for boys never do mind when their mamma 
is sick. Bo-Peep wants to whip him, but he hollers so loud 
when he is whipped that the whole neighborhood would 
hear him. So she won't. Here is a table cloth. She will 
spread it on the table, and here are the dishes. My, what 
a sweet cupboard ! I wish it was mine. Now she has the 
table set. Oh, I forgot Ruth ! Here she comes. 

"Oh, I am so glad you came, Ruth you are just in 
time for dinner." So they all sit around the table (play 
they are sitting), and Bo-Peep passes the bread. And Boy 
Blue says, "Oh, give me some pie!" for boys are so rude. 
Only Bo-Peep will not give him any until he eats some 
bread. Now the baby is wide awake and Bo-Peep will 
rock him again. If Bo-Peep didn't have to drink the Brew 
before she could whip Boy Blue, I would have her do it, 
for she feels just like it. (Sings to the baby and rocks 
the cradle.) 

"Yes, Boy Blue, you can have pie if you want it. Eat 
it all, no one cares. Pass Ruth a piece, won't you?" That 
is what Bo-Peep said. 

"Now there is the school bell, and you will be late. 
I am not going, for Mamma will need me." 

So Boy Blue and Ruth went to school, this way, and 
Bo-Peep said : 

"Mamma, won't you have some more tea, and some 

The mamma wanted some more, so Bo-Peep put this 


dish on. And, Oh yes, she will fry some meat for Mrs. 
Farmer. Now it is done, and she spreads some butter 
on it, and it looks so good that she wants it herself well, 
play she was cooking some of it for herself, and the tea 
is for her mamma. Now she sets it on the stand, and goes 
over here and eats her dinner, and it is fine. Then Mrs. 
Farmer got well, and Bo-Peep ran hard, and got to school 
before the last bell rang. That is all. 


Here are some interesting incidents of the actual use 
of the bottle characters. 

These stories powerfully stimulate the imagination : 

Once Mrs. Lowe's play club had a funeral. They had 
a hearse, a coffin, a preacher to conduct the service, a grave 
under the trees and a retinue of small people in attendance. 
The children shed real tears, and a boy who saw the 
burial and did not belong to -the club came next day and 
shyly put some flowers on the grave ! 

Another time she turned a lovely night into a stormy 
one by turning off all the lights but a small candle in a 
doll house, and flashing the electric lights for lightning, 
while they pulled a strong box in the shape of a canoe 
filled with Indians toward a draw-bridge let down. ''Upon 
that occasion nothing could be heard but the excited breath- 
ing of the club." 

One boy to whom Mrs. Lowe told stories, sometimes 
with the dolls, sometimes with pencil pictures, up to the 
time she began was below the average in English and draw- 
ing. Within a month he always had 100 per cent in both. 

The opportunities for friendly co-operation in bottle- 
doll play are obvious. A group of children may volunteer 
to make a certain number of character dolls apiece till the 
set is completed, but a lively lot will usually not be content 
to own a set conjointly, and soon each child will determine 


to have a complete set of his own. The educative possibili- 
ties of constructing such a variety of characters are almost 


Sometimes it is possible by sharing in a child s story- 
telling to show him a side of the subject which otherwise he 
would have missed seeing. 

Harry Hall was a very bright child, six years old, un- 
usually affectionate and sensitive. But he had a tendency to 
crush everything that opposed him, no matter what the cost. 

Having no character dolls, he and Mary Lowe piled 
a white cloth on a couch in such a manner that hills and 
mountains and valleys were formed. Harry began his story 
first, tracing with his pudgy little ringers the movements of 
his imaginary persons. 


"In this valley beside this big river is a band of fierce 
wild Indians. They have sharp tomahawks, and they are 
going to kill animals now. They will march down this 
valley, up over this hill, and around this cliff on toward the 
big mountain here in the center. 

"Up here on the other side of the mountain, high up, 
is a cave (making a dent in the cloth) and in it a little boy 
is hiding. He hears the Indians coming, and he thinks it is 
white men, so he comes down this way. Then he hears a 
cow bell dingle, and he tries to find the cow. (Lions don't 
have bells, you know, so he knows it is a cow.) Then pretty 
soon the whole crowd of Indians war-whooped every one 
of them at once like this (giving a fair imitation). Then 
the boy runs and runs, and falls down, and gets up, and 
runs faster, until he gets to the cave. Now he digs in, and 
hides away back. 

"The Indians come this way, over this little hill, down 
this valley, up this side of the mountain, and now they are 
on the very top, where they camp. 



"The boy heard them, and was afraid. But the Indians 
did not know he was there. Then when the meat began to 
cook, and the fire burned high, one Indian went to sleep, 
then another Indian went to sleep, then all of the Indians 
went to sleep, all but one ; he didn't. He ate all the meat 
up, and waked the other Indians and whooped : 

' 'I smell the blood of an Englishman ! I smell the 
blood of an Englishman !' 

'Then all the Indians whooped, 'I smell the blood of an 
Englishman F ' 

(At this exciting juncture Harry stopped and said, "I 
guess I'll let them get the boy. No, I won't.") 

Then he continued, 'The boy came out of the cave, and 
ran swift as a deer down the side of the mountain until he 
got to this river, and got in a boat, and went off. The In- 
dians saw him, and ran, too, but when they got half way 
down, an earthquake caved the mountain in, and swallowed 
them all i<p. (And he flattened the center of the cloth to 
suit.) That is all." 

It was Mrs. Lowe's turn. 


So Mary Lowe continued : 

"When the boy got home his father said, 'I am glad to 
see you safe home, my boy, for your mother was worried 
about you.' 

"Under these high cliffs there are caves, and in them 
live the wives and children of the Indians who are lying 
dead under the mountain. A little Indian boy is standing on 
the very top of this cliff, looking over the hills and far away 
over the low valleys. His mother calls from the cave : 

" 'Do you see them coming ? The fire is blazing high, 
and we must have the game to cook soon, or we will all be 

" 'He does not come,' answered the boy simply. He 


had stood for hours and hours, waiting for the father who 
would never come. The heart of the little Indian boy was 
brave, so he didn't complain, though he was cold and hungry. 

"All along the side of this cliff are boys waiting for 
their Indian fathers to come home. But how could they 
come when they are lying cold and dead under the big moun- 

" 'My father is brave !' called one of the boys. 'He has 
killed big lions he will bring us game to eat, and we will 
divide with you.' 

"But all of the Indian boys within hearing shouted to 

" 'We do not want the game that your father will bring, 
for we have fathers over the mountain who are greater 
chiefs than your father, and when they come we will have a 

"So the day passed, and when the evening came the 
mothers and the boys marched down the long valley, over 
this little hill, down this narrow valley, and stood at last 
at the foot of the mountain that used to guard the hills 
year after year. The fire burned high and hot in the caves, 
and the big kettles of water boiled, waiting for the game 
that was never to be cooked, and the grim faced woman 
and amazed boys stood hungry and cold beside the ruined 
mountain, wondering where the great chiefs were who had 
gone from home so gaily that morning, looking so strong 
and alive. 

"Well, we know, you and I, that they were lying cold 
and dead, crushed under the mountain, and they will never 
come home any more." 

Mrs. Lowe says that this sort of story can always be 
depended upon to modify the savagery of the boy's next 
story. This boy got the idea that besides himself there were 
others in the world who were worth while. 



You can see at once to how many fine things bottle- 
doll play relates itself. It helps memory, as children retell 
stories they have heard, whether they have seen them told 
with bottle dolls or not, for the writer has seen children, 
who have had the doll system explained to them within 
the hour, immediately come forward and select doll-charac- 
ters and proceed to tell and enact entirely fresh stories. 
This develops freedom of expression. It brings out re- 
sourcefulness, as the children make new character dolls, 
invent backgrounds and compose new situations and stories. 
These involve a variety of handicraft. It gives early exer- 
cise in character analysis, as individual dolls are selected 
to play new and appropriate parts. The moral value is 
greatest of all, for Mrs. Lowe has slyly slipped into her alle- 
gory that immemorial contest between "Mother Love" and 
the witches' "brew," which is the very essence of moral liv- 
ing, and thus has given moral meaning to every bottle-doll 

Evidences of alterations in ideals and conduct among 
children have not been wanting in Mrs. Lowe's own experi- 

One boy, a street boy, who was very rude to his mother, 
never having a good word for her, came to Mrs. Lowe's 
house one morning after four evenings of story-telling, and 
said, "I got a big walloping this morning, but I just gritted 
my teeth, and thought if the old girl could lick the stuffin' 
out of me, she had a right to do it. 'Cause if she is all the 
Lovely Lady I can have, I am going to stick to liking her. A 
boy is mighty mean, anyway I don't blame her for any- 
thing she does to me." And he was in earnest. He grows 
better every day. 

Lucy had been in the habit of running away and play- 
ing with the colored children on the next corner. Her 


mother had repeatedly told her not to do so. (She is six.) 
Suddenly, she stopped going. Later she confided to Mrs. 
Lowe, "I do not go to Crawford's any more, because if I 
did, I would have to drink the brew, and if we drink of the 
witch's brew we cannot be happy, you know." 

Jennie asked why the invisible King didn't have some 
love mixed in the brew when the witches weren't looking, 
so that it would not be all bad. Helen, ten years old, an- 
swered, "If you want love, why not go to the Fairy God- 
mother? She is always near. The good and bad get all 
mixed up in the heart enough now without the Invisible 
King bothering to make it worse." 

Another little girl said, "I thought at first when the 
stories were new to me that my mamma drank of the brew 
when she switched me, and now I see it is because she is 
anxious I shall not be burned by the brew that she punishes 
me. If she didn't love me some, she would not care." 

A little girl of six said, "My mamma called me to come 
home, and I was not going to listen. And then I thought 
'What would Buttercup say !' So I ran home, for I have a 
dear little buttercup in my heart." 

Buster, a bright boy of seven, asked, "How do I know 
that I have a buttercup like that in my heart?" Helen, ten, 
answered, "Why make believe that you have." "Well, what 
if the make-believe buttercup tells me to do the wrong 
thing?" "She won't tell you wrong. You will know by 
what she says for you to do whether she is a witch or a 



Selected by the Best Story-Tellers 


Richard T. Wyche, founder and president of the National Story- 
Tellers' League : 

Fairy Stories 

Red Riding Hood 
The Three Bears 
Beauty and the Beast 
Sleeping Beauty 

A Boy's Visit to Santa Claus, by R. T. Wyche Newson & Co., 
New York 


Persephone Old Greek sources 

Nimmy Nat Old English Fairy Stories by 


Folk Tales and Legends 

Uncle Remus Joel Chandler Harris 

Hiawatha Longfellow 

Hero Tales 

Beowulf J. L. Hall 

King Arthur Tennyson or Malory 

Ulysses Bryant's Odyssey Old Greek 

Stories Andrew Lang 

Siegfried Jas. Baldwin E 1 d e r Ed da- 
Younger Edda Madam Rogo- 
zene's "Beowulf and Siegfried" 

Stones of Real Life 

Stories of Washington "Story Life of Washington" 

Daniel Boone, David Crockett, early pioneers. 



Miss Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, author of "For the Story-Teller," 
"For the Story- Hour," etc.: 

Stories with a Sense Appeal 

The Three Bears Folk Tales 

The Little Red Hen Scudder's versions are well told 

Little Half Chick Sara Cone Bryant's version 

Fairy Stories 

Cinderella Any good version 

The Ugly Duckling Hans Christian Andersen 

The Legend of Claus Eugene Field 


Persephone Hawthorne's version 

The Adventures of Theseus. .. Greek Myths 

The Golden Touch Myths Every Child Should Know 

Folk Tales and Legends 

The Gingerbread Boy For the Children's Hour 

Bre'r Rabbit and the Tar Baby. Joel Chandler Harris 
How the Camel Got His Hump.Rudyard Kipling "Just So Sto- 

Hero Tales 

The Little Hero of Harlem.... In the Child's World 
How Cedric Became a Knight. . Elizabeth Harrison 
The Story of David and Go- 
liath The Bible 

Stories of Real Life 

A Dog of Flanders Ouida 

The Little Gray Pony Maud Lindsey "Mother Stories" 

Grandfather's Penny For the Children's Hour 

The Playground and Recreation Association of America: 

Fifty Stories for the Playground 

Aladdin and the Wonderful Diamonds and Toads 

Lamp East of the Sun and West of 
The Apple of Contentment the Moon (Dasent) 

(Pyle) The Elephant's Child (Kipling) 

The Brahmin, the Jackal and The Fisherman and His Wife 

the Tiger (Tales of the Pun- The Forty Thieves 

jab) The Golden Goose 

The Bremen Town Musicians Goody Two Shoes 

(Grimm) Hansel and Gretel 

The Cat that Walked by Him- The History of Whittington 

self (Kipling) and His Cat 

Cinderella Jack and the Bean Stalk 



Fifty Stories for the Playground Continued 

Jack the Giant-Killer 
John Gilpin's Ride (Cowper) 
The King Who Was a Gentle- 
man (MacManus) 
The Little Red Hen and the 


Little Red Riding Hood 
A Midsummer Night's Dream 


Mowgli's Brothers (Kipling) 
The Nose Tree (Grimm) 
Old Man Kangaroo (Kipling) 
Old Pipes and the Dryad 


The Pancake (Dasent) 
The Pied Piper of Hamelin 

The Princess Who Would Not 

Be Silent (Asbjornsen) 
The Punishment of the Stingy 

Raggylug (Seton) 
Rumpelstilzkin (Grimm) 
The Shooting Match at Not- 
tingham Town (Pyle) 

Sindbad the Sailor 
Sleeping Beauty in the Wood 
Snow-White and Rose-Red 
The Steadfast Tin Soldier (An- 

The Story of the Three Bears 
The Story of the Three Little 


The Swineherd (Andersen) 
The Three Golden Apples 

Thumbelisa (Andersen) 
The Thundermaker and the 
Showmaker (Grinnell) (In- 

The Twelve Dancing Princesses 

Party (Eastman) 

Eagle (Eastman) 

The War 


Why the Sea Is Salt (Dasent) 
The Wild Swans (Dasent) 
The Wolf and the Seven Little 

Goats (Grimm) 

Mrs. Dorothy Canfield Fisher, author of "A Montessori Mother" 
and "Mothers and Children": 

Fairy Stories 

The Shoemaker and the Three 
Little Elves Grimm's Fairy Tales 

Thor and Thunder Scandinavian Mythology 

Folk Tales and Legends 

Mowgli ." Jungle Book Kipling 

The Cat that Walked by Itself Just So Stories Kipling 

Hero Tales 

Story of Joseph and His Breth- 
ren The Bible 

Story of Richard Coeur de Lion 

Blandel English History 

David and Goliath , . The Bible 


Stephani Schutze, professional story-teller: 

Why Tony Bear Went to Bed. . Sykes, Tiny Hare and His Friends 

(Little Brown & Co.) 

The Tale Tiny Hare Told Schutze, 'The Continent," Apr. 

20, 1911 

The Elephant's Child Kipling, Just So Stories 

The Cat that Walked Kipling, Just So Stories 

Mowgli's Brothers (adapted) . . . . Kipling, First Jungle Book 

Raggylug * Seton, Wild Animals I Have 


The Snow Queen (adapted) Andersen 

fPyle, Where the North Wind 
Thor and the Frost Giants! Blows 

(adapted) 1 Wilmot, Norse Heroes 

[ Buxton 

The Fisherman and His Wife.. Lang 
The Shepherd Boy Who Became 

King (adapted) Baldwin, Old Stories from the 

Siegfried's First Journey (adapt- 1 

ed) I Baldwin, The Story of Sieg- 

Siegfried and the Dragon (adapt- f fried 

ed) J 

The Call of the Wild (adapted) . London 

The White Seal (adapted), Kipling, First Jungle Book 

M. D. Crackel, secretary of the West Side Y. M. C. A., Cleve- 
land, Ohio: 

The Dog of Flanders Ouida 

Lobo (Wild Animals I Have 

Known) Seton 

Rollo Learning Not To J. S. C. Abbott 

Chimes from a Jester's Bells Burdette 

A Man Without a Country Hale 

Timothy's Quest Wiggin 

Christmas Eve in a Lumber 

Camp Black Rock, by Connor (Chap. I) 

Gallagher Richard H. Davis 

700 Kipling 

The Walking Delegate Kipling 

Sonny (Chapters I and III) Ruth McEnery Stuart 

Meko the Mischief Maker Long 

Ways of the Woods Folks Long 


The Monkey that Would Not 

Kill Drummond 

Editha's Burglar R H. Burnett 

Following the Deer Long 

What a Boy Saw in the War. . . . 

Rikki-tikki-tavi Kipling 

The Boy Recruits (St. Nicholas) .Willis B. Hawkins 
His Duty (The Missionary 

Sheriff) Octave Thanet 

Joel, a Boy of Galilee Annie Fellows- Johnston 

Miss Julia W. Williamson, Director of Sory-Telling for the 
Philadelphia Free Library: 

Stories with a Sense Appeal 
The Gingerbread Boy 

The Tar Baby Uncle Remus 

Three Goats Gruff Asbjornsen 

Fairy Stories 

Jack and the Beanstalk 
Snow White and the Magic 


The Gorgon's Head Greek (Hawthorne's Wonder- 

The Three Golden Apples Greek 

Thor's Hammer Norse 

Baldur and the Mistletoe Norse 

Folk Tales and Legends 
William Tell 

Hero Tales 

Ulysses - . Homer 

David and Goliath The Old Testament 

Jeanne d'Arc 

Stories of Real Life 
Tom Sawyer (whitewashing the 



Prof. John H. Cox, author of "Folk-Tales of East and West" : 

Stones with a Sense Appeal 
The Hollow Tree and Deep 
Woods Book Albert Bigelow Paine (Harper) 

Fairy Stories 

The Bremen Town Musicians. . German Grimm's Folk Tales 
Cinderella Perrault 


The Book of Nature Myths- 
primitive races Holbrook (Houghton Mifflin) 

Folk Tales and Legends 

The Old Iron Pot. Swedish Folk Tale in "Folk Tales 

of East and West" (Little, 
Brown & Co) 

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow Japanese Folk Tale in "Japanese 

Fairy Tales" (Rand, McNally 
& Co.) 
Hero Tales 

A Dog of Flanders Flemish by Ouida 

Some Merry Adventures of 
Robin Hood English, by Pyle (Scribners) 

Professor Edward Porter St. John, author of "Stories and 
Story-Telling in Moral Education": 

Fairy Stories 
The Three Bears 
Why the Sea Is Salt 

Folk Tales and Legends 
The Legend of St. Christopher 
Legends of King Arthur and 

His Knights 

The Bre'r Rabbit Stories 
The Jackall Stories Sara Cone 
Bryant's books 

Hero Tales 
Stories of David 
Stories of Siegfried 

Stones of Real Life 
The "Little Women" Stories 


Julia Darrow Cowles, author of "The Art of Story-Telling" : 
Stories with a Sense Appeal 

"Raggylug," Seton-Thompson, in "How to Tell Stories to Chil- 
dren," Bryant (Houghton, Mifflin, Boston) 

"Lesson of Faith," Mrs. Gatty, in "Art of Story-Telling," Cowles 
(McClurg, Chicago) 

"Little Sister Kindness," Fox, in "Art of Story-Telling," Cowles 
(McClurg, Chicago) 

"Story of the Lilac Bush," in "Polly Oliver's Problem," by Wig- 
gin (Houghton, Mifflin, Boston) 

Fairy Stories 

"The Three Lemons," Laboulaye, in "Favorite Fairy Tales Re- 
told," Cowles (McClurg, Chicago) 

"The Twelve Months," Laboulaye, in "Favorite Fairy Tales Re- 
told," Cowles (McClurg, Chicago) 

"The Queen's Necklace," Nyblom, in "Art of Story-Telling," 
Cowles (McClurg, Chicago) 

"The Child's Wish" (orig.), in "Stories to Tell," Cowles (Flana- 
gan, Chicago) 

"Legend of the Arbutus" (N. A. Indian), in "Wigwam Stories," 

by Judd (Rand, McNally, Chicago) 
"The Dun Horse" (N. A. Indian), Grinnell, in "Stories to Tell," 

Cowles (Flanagan, Chicago) 

Folk Tales and Legends 
"The Enchanted Wine- Jug, or How the Dog and Cat Became 

Enemies," in "Stories to Tell," Cowles (Flanagan, Chicago) 
"Enchanted Mead" (adaptation of above), in "Favorite Fairy Tale 

Book" (McClurg, Chicago) 

Hero Tales 

"The Coming of Arthur," in "Some Great Stories and How to 

Tell Them," Wyche (H. D. Newson, New York) 
"Robin Hood and Sir Richard-at-the-Lee," in "Art of Story- 
Telling," Cowles (McClurg, Chicago) 

Stories of Real Life 

"Hold-Fast Tom," in "Art of Story-Telling," Cowles (McClurg, 

Horace Mann Kindergarten, New York, furnished by Patty 
Smith Hill: 

Stories with a Sense Appeal 
The Little Pig 


Fairy Stories 
Shoemaker and Elves Grimm, adapted 

Siegfried Guerber, adapted 

Folk Tiles and Legends 
Three Bears 

Hero Tales 

Stones of Real Life 
Mrs. Tabby Grey Maud Lindsay 



How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN, by Sara Cone Bryant, published 
by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

This was the first good American book on story-telling and 
it has not been superseded nor surpassed. It is charmingly written, 
thoroughly practical and contains a good bibliography and a num- 
ber of the best stories gathered from various sources, personally 
adapted by the author. 

by Edward Porter St. John, published by the Pilgrim Press, 

An excellent little manual going briefly but helpfully into the 
philosophy of story-telling. It is intended for class use. No 
stories are included. 

STORY-TELLING IN SCHOOL AND HOME, by E. N. and G. E. Partridge, 
published by Sturgis & Walton Co., New York. 

Dr. George E. Partridge writes the first part of the book 
giving a history of story-telling, analyzing story-forms and offer- 
ing helpful suggestions as to methods. In the second part, Mrs. 
Partridge offers an attractive collection of stories adapted by 

Wyche, published by Newson & Co., New York. 

Mr. Wyche, president of the National Story-Tellers' League, 
believes in telling long stories and the distinctive value of this 
book is that he shows how to do it. 


STORIES AND STORY-TELLING, by Angela M. Keyes, published by D. 
Appleton & Co., New York. 

A short, crisp introduction to the art of story-telling, with 
200 pages of well written and adapted stories. 
rnan, published by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago. 

Miss Lyman covers such helpful topics as reading aloud, 
arranging a program, selecting biographical stories, telling ethnic 
tales, etc. She interweaves with her chapters a catalog of stories 
and gives the most helpful story programs we have seen. 
FOR THE STORY-TELLER, by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, published by 
Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 

Miss Bailey classifies stories helpfully, gives an excellent 
story in each class and offers an excellent series of programs. 
THE ART OF STORY-TELLING, by Julia Darrow Cowles, published by 
A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago. 

Some excellent and fresh suggestions on methods. Half of 
the book is given to selected stories to tell. 

TELLING BIBLE STORIES, by Louise Seymour Houghton, published by 
Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

A very careful analysis of the Bible as a book of stories, 
showing how each of the ancient narratives may best be inter- 
preted to children. 

Mr. Schiitze kindly gave the writer permission to read his 
nearly completed manuscript before publication. It is an espe- 
cially serious-minded treatment of the subject and is bound to 
be helpful to the professional story-teller. 




How TO ENJOY PICTURES, 290 pp., by M. S. Emery, published by the 
Prang Co., New York. 

Although published fifteen years ago, there is still no better 
book than this of Miss Emery's to learn how to appreciate all the 
fine points of a good picture. She studies pictures by theme 
rather than by period or school, which is the right approach for 
children. There is a chapter upon magazine illustrations, one 


upon the processes of reproduction and one upon school-room 
decoration. There is an illustration with each picture studied. 
How TO SHOW PICTURES TO CHILDREN, 138 pp., by Estelle M. Hurll, 

published by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston, at $1.00. 

Miss Hurll has become our most popular interpreter of art 
to children. In this small volume she has collected a number of 
useful articles showing the various ways of helping children to love 
good pictures. Some of her suggestive chapter titles are these: 
"How to Make Pictures Tell Stories," "Story Pictures," "Prac- 
tical Suggestions for the Mother for the Child's Picture Educa- 
tion," "The Use of Pictures in the School Room." Each chapter 
closes with a short list of attractive pictures that are available to 
the average mother. 
THE CHILDREN'S BOOK OF ART, 202 pp., by Agnes Ethel Conway 

and Sir Martin Conway, published by Adam and Charles Black, 


Nothing better can be found for interesting young people who 
are old enough to be thoughtful in good pictures. This is a most 
simple and sensible book. It interweaves a sketch of the history 
of art with illustrations typical of each period. It shows the 
young scoffer the spirit that was behind the quaintness of the 
thirteenth century art and reveals the possibilities which color, 
composition and inspiration may achieve. The most noticeable 
characteristic of the book is its wonderful reproductions in color 
of paintings. The subjects selected are unusual ones hanging in 
English galleries, and their choice is well suited to the apprecia- 
tion of young people. 
ART TALKS WITH YOUNG FOLKS, 110 pp., by Sophie M. Collmann, 

published by The Ark, 224-6 E. Seventh St., Cincinnati. 

Eight excellent art talks which a mother actually gave to her 
children during the story-hour. Perhaps the subjects and artists 
chosen were not those most suited to children, unless they were 
unusually thoughtful ones, but the book shows how it is possible 
for a mother to interweave all that she knows of pictures and 
feels of romance into her familiar intercourse with boys and girls 
of ten to fourteen years of age. 
GUIDE TO PICTURES FOR BEGINNERS, 253 pp., by Charles H. Caffin, 

published by the Baker & Taylor Co., New York. 

Probably the best single book for the purpose indicated by its 
title. Mr. Caffin is himself a respectable critic and his judgments 
are usually sound. Composition, landscape, form and color are 
the principal topics of the book. The mother herself will enjoy 
his more advanced book, "How to Study Pictures," pp. 513, pub- 
lished by the Century Co., New York, in which he ingeniously 
places opposite each other paralleled or contrasting artists, schools 


and pictures. Even the amateur feels that she gets an insight 
into some of the purposes and ideals of the artists by this carefully 
worked-out method. 

gether: xxviii 238 pp., and xxiii 190 pp., by L. L. W. Wilson, 
published by the Macmillan Co., New York. 

Two books, for primary and elementary grades. There are 
interesting comment and good questions, with excellent book 
and magazine references, upon the pictures and painters commonly 
studied in school. The selection of pictures follows the seasons 
and festivals of the year. They do not impress one as chosen 
with much regard for the real interests of children. They are 
the things that adults think children ought to like. There is a 
smaller edition containing only the pictures with appropriate 
mottoes and verses opposite. 

THE MEANING OF PICTURES, 161 pp., by John C. van Dyke, published 
by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York 

A useful book by which the mother can learn to appreciate 
pictures. The author discusses Truth in Painting, the Personal 
Element, Pictorial Poetry, the Decorative Quality, Subject in 
Painting, etc. 

THE APPRECIATION OF PICTURES, 308 pp., by Russell Sturgis, pub- 
lished by Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, New York. 

Another helpful book for the mother. Mr. Sturgis tries to 
show the mother how to appreciate pictures by telling what each 
age of painters tried to do. The book is really a sketch-history 
of art. 

How TO LOOK AT PICTURES, 173 pp., by Robert Clermont Witt, pub- 
lished by G. Bell & Sons, Limited, London. 

This, too, is an excellent book, especially intended to prepare 

adults to visit galleries, but equally useful to those who must 

do their picture-study in their homes. The author discusses the 

artist's point of view, the consideration of date, the influence of 

race and country and the schools of painting. Then he takes up 

the various kinds of pictures, the portrait, the historical painting, 

the landscape, genre, and closes with simple chapters on drawing, 

color, lights and shades, composition and treatment. 


Bacon, published by Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, New 


A study of forty-five artists with seventy-five examples of 
their work, the men and pictures that children when they grow 
up will wish to know. There is a sketch of each artist's life and 
short comment on each reproduction. The book is one for 
high-school pupils. 


Munson Bryant, published by John Lane Co., New York. 

A selection of fifty-five well-known children from the time 
of the Medici to the present, with most interesting comment upon 
their lives and the circumstances under which their portraits were 

FAMOUS PICTURES OF CHILDREN, 144 pp., by Julia Augusta Schwartz, 
published by the American Book Co., New York. 

A book for supplementary reading in school. There are 
seventeen reproductions. This little book is characterized by its 
excellent descriptions in each case, of the circumstances under 
which the child was painted, of the meaning of the picture and 
of the after history of the child or the picture. 
STORIES OF GREAT ARTISTS, 157 pp., by Olive Browne Home and 
Katherine Lois Scobey, published by the American Book Co., 
New York. 

Incidents that would interest children in artists' lives with 
reproductions of their famous works. The artists studied are 
Raphael, Angelo, Rembrandt, Reynolds, Corot, Landseer, Bon- 
heur and Millet. 

CYR GRADED ART READERS, about 130 pp. each, by Ellen M. Cyr, 
published by Ginn & Co., Boston, Mass. 

There are three of these readers. Each one of them takes 
up in a simple and pleasant way the lives of several artists and 
gives charming reproductions in two-tone prints of such of their 
works as are most interesting to children and also gives simple 
descriptions of these reproductions. 

and Julia M. Dewey, published by the Macmillan Co., New 

Pleasant little sketches, for children just learning to read, 
of artists, with interwoven descriptions of their pictures, which 
are reproduced in half-tone. The artists are Bonheur, Van Dyke, 
Landseer and Murillo. 

and J. C. Dana, published by the Elm Tree Press, Woodstock, 

A manual intended for libraries but useful for the home, 
upon large wall pictures, giving lists of such pictures, reproduc- 
tions of a few and a list of the leading art publishers of America 
with some idea of their respective stocks and prices. 





The following lists are drawn largely from those compiled by 
the Drama League of America, and are used by special permission. 
Additions, however, have been made by the writer. 


THE HEALTHFUL ART OF DANCING. Luther H. Gulick. (A discus- 
sion of the value of folk-dancing through the school and 
through society, with a list of over thirty books containing music 
and descriptions of folk dances.) Doubleday, Page & Co. 

CHILDREN'S SINGING GAMES. Mari R. Hofer. A Flanagan Co., 
Chicago, 111. 

FOLK DANCES. Elizabeth Buchanal. G. Schirmer, New York. 

FOLK DANCES AND GAMES. Caroline Crawford. The A. S. Barnes 
Co., New York. 

Co., Chicago, 111. 


EDUCATION BY PLAYS AND GAMES. George Ellsworth Johnson. 
(Our standard book on play, enumerating many dramatic games 
and placing them where they belong in the child's development.) 
Ginn & Co., Boston, Mass. 

MANUAL OF PLAY. William Byron Forbush. (Contains the first 
graded and annotated list of playthings, naming and describing 
many dramatic games and plays.) American Institute of Child 
Life, Philadelphia, Pa. 

Jessie H. Bancroft. (Gives graded descriptions of many active 
dramatic games for all ages.) The Macmillan Co., New 

EASY GAMES FOR LITTLE PLAYERS. Margaret Boughton. (An Eng- 
lish publication, showing how to turn the nursery rhymes into 
dramatic form. This would be excellent for a children's party 
or for any little circle that chances to be meeting in the home. 


The suggested dialogue does not need to be memorized.) 
Charles & Dible, London. 


WHEN MOTHER LETS Us ACT. Stella G. S. Perry. (An excellent 
series of suggestions about amateur acting for little children.) 
Moffat, Yard & Co., New York. 

AMATEUR THEATRICALS. Charles Townsend. (General directions 
for acting and making up for young people.) Dick & Fitz- 
gerald, New York. 

EDUCATIONAL DRAMATICS. Emma Sheridan Fry. (The last forty 
pages give careful directions for coaching young people for 
theatricals.) Moffat, Yard & Co., New York. 

YEAR BOOK, 1912. (Contains significant article on children's plays 
and how to stage them.) Published by the Francis W. Parker 
School, Chicago. 



CYR'S DRAMATIC READER. (6 to 8 years.) Ginn & Co., Chicago. 
LITTLE PLAYS FOR LITTLE PLAYERS. Mara L. Pratt- Chad wick. (6 

to 8 years.) Educational Publishing Co., Chicago. 
CHILD LORE DRAMATIC READER. Katherine L. Bryce. (7 to 10 

years.) Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

DRAMATIC READER. Florence Holbrook. (7 to 10 years.) Ameri- 
can Book Co., Chicago. 
PLAYS FROM THE WONDER BOOK. Grace Dietrich McCarthy. (10 to 

13 years.) Educational Publishing Co., Chicago. 
DRAMATIC READER. Marietta Knight. (10 to 14 years.) American 

Book Co., Chicago. 

years.) Educational Publishing Co., Chicago. 

Book One. Book Two. Book Three. Book Four. Book 

Five. Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

Madalene D. Barnum. (6 to 8 years.) The American Book 

Co., New York. 
LITTLE DRAMAS. Ada Maria Skinner and Lillian Nixon Lawrence. 

(5 to 6 years.) The American Book Co. 
STORY PLAYS. Alice Sumner Varney. (5 to 8 years.) Three 

books, about 172 pp. each. The American Book Co., New York. 


DRAMATIC FORM. Sara E. Simons and Clem Irwin Orr. 
(Twenty-two plays from the classics, for young people 14 to 
18, with introductory suggestions.) Scott, Foresman & Co., 

(The good old fairy stories and Alice in Wonderland turned 
into dialogue. The arrangement is suitable for children to 
read in dialogue.) Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, New 


KINDERGARTEN PLAYS (two volumes, containing five plays). Clem- 
entina Black. J. M. Dent & Son, London. 
THE WILD ANIMAL PLAY. Ernest Seton Thompson. (For very 

small children; 7 girls, 10 boys; time, 45 minutes.) Doubleday, 

Page & Co., New York. 
BOOK OF PLAYS FOR LITTLE ACTORS. Johnston & Barnum. (15 

plays; 6 to 8 years.) American Book Co., Chicago. 

plays; 4 to 12 characters each; 8 to 14 years.) Charles Scrib- 

ner's Sons, New York. 
LITTLE PLAYS. Lena Dalkeith. (5 plays; 3 to 14 characters each; 

10 to 12 years.) E. P. Dutton & Co., New York. 
HARPER'S BOOK OF LITTLE PLAYS. Selected by Madalene D. Barnum. 

(6 plays; 5 to 18 characters each; 10 to 14 years.) Harper & 

Bros., New York. 
FAIRY PLAYS AND How TO ACT THEM. Lady Bell. (14 plays; 3 to 

15 characters each; 6 to 12 years.) Longmans, Green & Co., 

New York. 
THE MAGIC WHISTLE AND OTHER PLAYS. Frank Nesbitt. (6 plays ; 

7 to 22 characters each; 7 to 12 years. ) Longmans, Green & 

Co., New York. 
FOUR PLAYS FOR CHILDREN. John J. Chapman. (4 plays; 6 to 20 

characters each; 10 to 14 years.) Moffat, Yard & Co., New 

LITTLE WOMEN PLAY. Adapted by Elizabeth Lincoln Gould. (6 

girls, 2 boys; time, 45 minutes; 10 to 14 years.) Little, Brown 

& Co., Boston. 
EFFIE'S CHRISTMAS DREAM. Adapted by Louise Claire Foucher. 

(40 characters; time, 40 minutes; 8 to 12 years.) Little, Brown 

& Co., Boston. 

Mackaye. (10 plays of an ethical nature; 8 to 14 characters 

each; 8 to 12 years.) Henry Holt & Co., New York 


Mackaye. (8 plays; 3 to 25 characters each, 10 to 14 years.) 
Henry Holt & Co., New York. 

PATRIOTIC PLAYS AND PAGEANTS. Constance D'arcy Mackaye. (8 
plays ; 15 to 45 characters each ; may be given as single plays or 
as a complete pageant; 12 to 18 years.) Henry Holt & Co., 
New York. 

HIAWATHA. Florence Holbrook. (Adapted from Longfellow's 
poem.) Houghton, Mifflin Co., Chicago. 

HOME PLAYS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. Edited by Cecil H. Bullivant. 
(18 plays; 12 to 17 years.) T. C & E. C. Jack, London. 

Kroeker. (10 to 14 years.) Dick & Fitzgerald, New York. 

SUCCESSFUL ENTERTAINMENTS. Willis N. Bugbee. (Historic dia- 
logues, holiday plays and literary exercises for young people.) 
The Penn Publishing Co., Philadelphia, Pa. 

ling. (A series of historical dialogues, telling the story of 
dramatic portions of the lives of notable people from Columbus 
to Abraham Lincoln.) The Macmillan Co., New York. 

HISTORICAL PLAYS FOR CHILDREN (two volumes). Amice Mac- 
Donell. (11 plays dealing with English history; 14 to 30 char- 
acters each; mostly boys; 12 to 16 years.) George Allen & 
Co., London. 

SNOW-WHITE. Florence Davenport Adams. (2 girls, 4 boys; time, 
20 minutes; 10 to 12 years.) Dramatic Publishing Co., Chi- 

WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD. Mar jorie Benton Cook. (1 girl, 7 
boys; time, 30 minutes; 12 to 14 years.) Dramatic Publishing 
Co., Chicago. 

girls, 7 boys; time, 25 minutes; 12 to 14 years.) Dramatic Pub- 
lishing Co., Chicago. 

ALICE IN WONDERLAND. Dramatized by Mrs. Burton Harrison. (14 
girls, 16 boys; time, f hour, 30 minutes; 10 to 14 years.) Dra- 
nmtic Publishing Co., Chicago. 

EDY AND SATIRE"). Marie Edgeworth. (8 girls, 5 boys; 10 to 
14 years. A picture of old English school life.) American 
Book Co., Chicago. 

HOLIDAY PLAYS. Marguerite Merington (5 plays ; 4 to 7 characters 
each; 10 to 14 years.) Duffield & Co., New York. 

HOME PLAYS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. Arranged by Cecil H. Bullivant. 
(27 plays; 6 to 30 characters each; 8 to 15 years.) Dodge Pub- 
lishing Co., New York. 


THE ROSE OF PLYMOUTH. Beulah Marie Dix, Evelyn Greenleaf 
Sutherland. (4 girls, 4 boys; time, 1 hour, 30 minutes; 14 to 
16 years. Picture of Colonial times.) Dramatic Publishing 
Co., Chicago. 

THE BLUE BIRD. Maurice Maeterlinck. (10 to 16 years. Omitting 
the Palace of Night, the Forest and the Graveyard scenes, this 
play may be easily adapted to children.) Dodd, Mead & Co., 
New York. 

piled by Lady Gregory.) (3 girls, 7 boys; child angels; 12 to 
16 years. (Out of print, but may be found in libraries.) 

JUDAS MACCABEUS Longfellow. (Heroic drama; 12 to 16 years.) 

HANSEL AND GRETEL. Libretto. (German folk tale; 7 main char- 
acters, numerous children and angels; 10 to 16 years.) Pub- 
lished by F. Rullman, 111 Broadway, New York. 

THE BEN GREET SHAKESPEARE. (The Tempest; As You Like It; 
Merchant of Venice; Midsummer Night's Dream.) Double- 
day, Page & Co., New York. 

PLAYS FOR OLDER GIRLS. For older girls from 16 up, E. S. Werner, 
45 East Twenty-ninth Street, New York City, publishes several 
plays which appeal strongly to the girls, though their art may 
be seriously questioned: 
Anita's Trial. A camp play of fourteen characters Three 


Two Little Rebels. Two acts Eleven parts Two negro. 
A Virginia Heroine. Long Must be cut. 
Rebecca's Triumph. Sixteen parts One negro, one Irish 


After the Game. Ten characters All popular with girls. 
Aunt Matilda's Birthday. Nine parts one act. 
An Auction at Meadowvale. Eight parts One act. 
The Return of Letty. 
The Lost Prince. A Christmas play. 
Robin's Specific. Christmas operetta. 

PLAYS FOR OLDER BOYS. Publications of Dick & Fitzgerald, New 

Wanted: a Confidential Clerk A Holy Terror April Fools- 
Mischievous Bob. 

Publications of Penn Publishing Co., Philadelphia : 

Case of Smythe vs. Smith Forget-Me-Nots When Doctors 

Publications of Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston : 

The Revolving Wedge ; a football romance A Town Meeting 
A New Broom Sweeps Clean Wanted: a Male Cook 
Brother against Brother Gentlemen of the Jury Freedom of 


the Press The King of the Cannibal Islands A Sea of 
Troubles What They Did for Jenkins The Humors of the 
Strike My Lord in Livery. 

Other entertainments that are good for boys only are: 

Hiawatha Entertainments, by Edgar S. Werner & Co., 45 East 
Twenty-ninth Street, New York Roll Call of the Nation, by 

the same Valley Forge, by the same Sketches, Skits and 

Stunts, by the Penn Publishing Co., Philadelphia, Pa. 

A group of short plays are dramatizations by children's classes of 
the Francis W. Parker School, Chicago, and may be purchased 
from the School. 



Miss KATHERINE LORD, 10 Gramercy Park, New York City. 

Miss HERMINE SCHWED, 34 Tomkins Avenue, Tompkinsville, 
N. Y. 

Miss FREDA DAVIDSON, 2 West Eighty-ninth Street, New York 

MR. MAURICE S. KUHNS, 4407 Berkeley Avenue, Chicago. 

Miss FLORENCE HOLBROOK, 562 Oakwood Boulevard, Chicago. 

Several plays have been written by or arranged under the direc- 
tion of Mrs. Amelia D. Hookway, and have had successful stage 
presentation. For typed manuscript, suggestions as to staging, etc., 
address Miss Katherine D. Jackson, 601 Independence Boulevard, 
Chicago. Please enclose stamped envelope. 


May be purchased from Koelling & Klappenbach, 170 West 

Adams Street, Chicago : 

RASPER IM MARCHEN-LANDE. (Contains several plays, the best of 
which is a simple version of Hansel und Gretel.) 

Dornroschen (11 characters; 5 acts; 30 minutes), b. Der 
kluge Hans (5 acts; 8 characters; time, 20 minutes), c. Pre- 
ciosa (in verse, 5 acts; 8 characters; time, 20 minutes), d. 
Schatzhauer im griinen Tannenwald (5 acts; 8 characters; time, 
40 minutes), e. Hans im Gluck (5 acts; 8 characters; time, 
25 minutes). 


C. A. CORNER'S KINDER THEATER, a. Schneeweisschen und Rosen- 
roth (5 acts; 12 characters; time, 1 hour), b. Aschen-brodel 
(9 characters; time, 1 hour, 30 minutes), c. Schneewittchen 
und die Zwerge (17 characters; time, 1 hour, 30 minutes). 

DIE VERLORENE BRILLE. Emma Iwa Schramm. (2 girls, 1 boy; 
time, 9 minutes; 8 to 10 years.) 

VERGESST DAS BESTE NICHT. Emma Iwa Schramm. (5 girls, 5 
boys; time, 20 minutes; 8 to 14 years.) 


LES DEUX FEES AND OTHER PLAYS. Violet Partington. (6 to 12 

years.) Published by Horace Marshall & Son, London, a. Les 

Deux Fees. b. Le Petit Chaperon Rouge, c. Le Jour de Conge. 

d. La Mendiante. e. La Journee des Fleurs. 
DANS LE ROYAUME DES FEES. Violet Partington. (6 to 12 years.) 

Published by Horace Marshall & Son, London, a. Cendrillon. 

b. La Belle et la Bete. c. La Belle au Bois Dormant, d: Les 

Trois Ours. 
Six SHORT FRENCH PLAYS. A. S. Johnson. (12 to 14 years.) 

Longmans, Green & Co., New York. 


A list of stones has been prepared with considerable care, es- 
pecially for the purpose of helping mothers who wish what we 
might call "moral prescriptions" for their children. It is understood 
that these are all of story length, that is for telling aloud and not 
for reading, either by the parents or by the child. We have sought 
those which are generally unfamiliar and which we believe to be 
already in effective form for the purpose. We have also graded 
them. The parenthetical figures which are suggested (0-6) mean 
that a given story is believed to be suitable to children up to six 
years of age. This grading must necessarily be approximate. 
The stories selected for the earlier grades are imaginative in char- 
acter ; those for the older grades are realistic, and we have selected 
few stories for the high-school years. 

In the choice of these stories the endeavor has been made to 
seek out most plentifully those which have to do with the common 
and besetting sins of children. The more difficult the problem, the 
more numerous are the selected stories. 


The authors and publishers of the books referred to are gen- 
erally given in full in the list of Story Books in Appendix X. 


Ambition (Aspiration) 
Two Foolish Birds (0-6) ...... Fairy Stories and Fables 

Gonard and the Pine Tree 

(6-8) ...................... For the Children's Hour 

Toad (6-8) .................. Wonder Stories 

Whittington and His Cat (6-8) . Fifty Famous Stories Retold 
Adventurous Life of an Acorn 

Fairy (7-10) ........... ---- My Days with the Fairies 

The New Partner (7-10) . . . . . .In the Heart of the Forest 

The Ambitious Rose Tree 

(7-10) ..................... Bimbi Stories 

Lampblack (7-10) ............ Bimbi Stories 

The Goblin and the Huckster 

(11-12) .................... Golden Rule Series 

He Aimed High and Hit the 

Mark (12-15) .............. Stories from Life 

Amiability (Gentleness) 
Little Blue Gown and the But- 

terfly (7-10) ............... Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Appreciation (See also Gratitude, Thankfulness) 

What Bradley Owed (7-10) . . . Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 
Hans Schmelz ( 12-15) ........ Course in Citizenship 


Minstrel's Song (6-8) ......... Mother Stories 

Beginning with Small Things 
The Fairy's New Year Gift 

...................... Good Stories for Great Holidays 

Three Questions ( 10-13) ...... Ethics for Children 

Gareth and Lynette (12-15) ... Broadening Path 

Gareth and Lynette (14-17) .. .Lord Tennyson 
Businesslikeness (See Carefulness, Promptness, Shrewdness, Thrift) 
Carefulness (See also Forgetfulness) 

Beet (6-8) ................... Careless Jane 

Untidy Amanda (6-8) ......... Careless Jane 

Boisterous Ann (6-8) .......... Careless Jane 

Careless Jane (6-8) ............ Careless Jane 

Half-Done Polly (6-8) ........ Play Days 

Blunder (7-10) ............... Broadening Path 

Story of Alnaschar (7-13) ... .Stories and Story-Telling 


Charity (See also Generosity, Helpfulness, Service) 

Child's Good Work (0-6) Bed-time Stories 

Story of Childe Chanty (6-8) .Wonderful Chair 
Abraham and the Old Man 

(6-8) Book of Legends 

Cheerfulness (Hopefulness) 
Walnut Tree that Wanted to 

Bear Tulips (0-6) Kindergarten Stories and Morn- 
ing Talks 

Christmas Cuckoo (6-8) Wonderful Chair 

Making the Best of It (6-8) ... For the Children's Hour 
Story of Merrymount (6-8) . . . Wonderful Chair 
How Diseases and Cares Came 

Among Men (6-8) Old Greek Stories 

The Christmas Cuckoo (7- 10).. Good Stories for Great Holidays 

The Magic Mask (7-10) Golden Rule Series 

Horse that B'leeved He'd Get 

There (7-10) Story-Tell Lib 

Miller of the Dee (7-10) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 

Pippa Passes (7-10) For the Children's Hour 

Blind Man and the Talking 

Dog (10-13) Golden Rule Series 

How Cedric Became a Knight 

(6-10) In Story Land 

The Man Who Knows No Fear 

(12-15) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 


Dirty Jack (0-6) My Picture Poetry Book 

The Pig Brother (0-6) Golden Windows 

Carl and the Earthworms 

(0-6) Sjtories for Kindergartens and 

Primary Schools 
Tom, the Water Baby (7-10) . . For the Children's Hour 

Common Sense 

Epaminondas and His Auntie 

(7-10) Stories to Tell to Children 

The Little Hero of Haarlem 

(8-10) How to Tell Stories 

What the Boy Saw (10-13) . . . .Moral Instruction 

Conscientiousness (See Faithfulness, Beginning with Small Things, 



Arthur and the Sword (6-9) . . How to Tell Stories to Children 
How Arthur Became King 

(9-12) King Arthur and His Knights 

Quest Flower (10-13) Jewel's Story Book 

The Sacred Flame (12-14) ... .Christ Legends (Lagerlof) 
Search for the Holy Grail 

(12-15) King Arthur and His Knights 

Considerateness (See Appreciation, Gratitude, Tact) 


Country Mouse and the Town 

Mouse (0-6) Fables and Folk Stories 

Discontented Weathercock 

(0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Fairy Gifts (0-6) Fairy Life 

Tale of the Littlest Mouse 

(0-6) For the Children's Hour 

Fisherman and His Wife (6-8). Fairy Stories and Fables 

Wonderful Traveler (6-8) Story in Primary Instruction 

Galoshes of Fortune (6-8) Wonder Stories 

Discontented Pendulum (6-8) . . Waste Not, Want Not 
Discontented Guinea Hen (6-8) . Among the Farmyard People 
Little Rabbit Who Wanted Red 

Wings (6-8) For the Story Hour 

Golden Windows (7-10) Golden Windows 

Princess Orchid's Party (8-11). My Days with the Fairies 
Magic Shirt (9-12) Character Building Readers 

Co-operation (See also Friendliness, Loyalty) 
Hans and the Four Big Giants 

(6-8) Story in Primary Instruction 


Stoorworm (6-8) Fairy Tales from Folk Lore 

Limpetty Jack (7-10) Land of Pluck 

The Little Princess of the Fear- 
less Heart (7-10) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

The Boy Who Knew No Fear 

(10-12) Stories from Life 

Eyes of the Ring (10-13) In Story Telling Time 

Madam Meynier (10-13) Moral Instruction 

Knight with the Badly Made 
Coat ( 10-15) King Arthur and His Knights 


Courtesy (Manners) 

For the Little Boy Who Will 

Not Say "Please" (0-6) Stories from Plato 

Fairy in the Mirror (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 
A Day with a Courteous 

Mother (10-13) Course in Citizenship 

Two on a Street Car (12-15) . .Broadening Path 

Dependableness (Responsibility) 

Geirald the Coward (10-13) .. .Golden Rule Series 

Determination (See also Perseverance) 
How the Princess Was Beaten 

in a Race (6-8) Book of Legends 

Little Claus and Big Claus 

(8-10) Wonder Stories 

Andrew Jackson, the Boy Who 
"Never Would Give Up" 

(9-12) Stories from Life 

Vitai Lampada (12-15) Henry Newbolt 

Columbus ( 12-15 ) Joaquin Miller 

Efficiency (Skill) 

Giant Energy and Fairy Skill 

(6-8) Mother Stories 

Two Ways (6-8) Golden Windows 

Can and Could (8-11) Golden Rule Series 

Energy (See also Courage, Determination) 

"Westward Ho" (12-15) Stories from Life 


Lesson of Faith (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Faithfulness (See Fidelity) 
Dora the Little Girl of the 

Lighthouse (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Firefly (0-6) Stories of Humble Friends 

Dog Gellert (6-8) Book of Legends 

Ivanoushka, the Simpleton 

(6-8) Folk Tales from the Russian 

Prince of Naples (6-8) Fairy Tales from Folk Lore 

Beauty and the Beast (6-8) . . . Fables and Folk Stories 
The Little Girl in the Light- 
house (7-10) Stories for Little Listeners 


Faithfulness (See Fidelity) Continued 
The Enchantment of Tara 

( 10-13) Heroes of the Dawn 

In the Snow (10-13) In the Heart of the Forest 

The Lanthorn Bearer (12-15). The Inn of Tranquillity 

Fidelity (See also Faithfulness) 
Sir Lancelot and His Friends 

(9-12) King Arthur and His Knights 

Death of Roland (9-12) The Song of Roland 

Adventure of King Pellenore 

(9-12) King Arthur and His Knights 

Forgetfulness (Carelessness: See also Carefulness) 
The Kitten that Forgot How to 

Mew (0-6) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

The Fairy Who Came to Our 

House (7-10) In the Story Hour 

Orpheus and Eurydice (7-10) . .Golden Rule Series 


Forgive and Forget (7-10) .... Golden Rule Series 
A Great Repentance and a 
Great Forgiveness (10-13) . .Golden Rule Series 

Fortitude (See also Courage, Faith, Heroism) 
Adrift on an Ice-Pan (12-15) . .Adrift on an Ice-Pan 

Friendliness (Kindliness) 
Wolves, the Dogs and the 

Sheep (0-6) Fairy Stories and Fables 

Good and Bad Apples (6-8) . . . Stories from My Attic 

Pietro da Cortona (7-11) Golden Rule Series 

The Snappy Snapping Turtle 

(7-11) Golden Rule Series 

The Fairy Who Judges His 

Neighbors (7-11) Golden Rule Series 

Friendship (See also Friendliness, Appreciation, Sympathy) 
Drakesbill and His Friends 

(6-8) Fairy Stories and Fables 

Generosity (See also Charity) 
Peter and the Magic Goose 

(0-6) Fairy Stories and Fables 

Maud Granger's New Dress 

(6-8) Bed-time Stories 


Generosity (See also Charity) Continued 

The Wooden Shoes of Little 
Wolff (6-8) Good Stories for Great Holidays 

The Violet in the Valley (7- 10) . Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

The Happy Prince (7-10) Happy Prince 

The Wheat Field (7-10) Golden Windows 

Margaret of New Orleans 

(10-13) Stories to Tell to Children 

Queen Louise (10-13).. Golden Rule Series 

Genuineness (See also Truth) 

Little Girl with the Light (0-6) . Mother Stories 

Little Blessed Eyes (0-6) In Story-land 

Search for a Good Child (6-8) . Mother Stories 

White Dove (6-8) More Mother Stories 

Knights and the Good Child 

(7-10) True Fairy Stories 

Goodness that Is Within (7-10) . Stories from Plato 
Good Temper 

Fairy in the Mirror (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

King and His Hawk (6-8) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 

The Goddess of Light (6-8) . . . Fairy Tales from Folk Lore 

King Lion and the Sly Little 
Jackals (7-10) Moral Education 

The Snapdragon (10) Golden Rule Series 

Gratitude (See also Appreciation) 

Great Surprise (0-6) For the Children's Hour 

How Patty Gave Thanks (0-6) . In the Child's World 

Ant and the Dove (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Faithful John (0-6) German Household Tales 

Lion and the Mouse (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Wiltse (0-6) Kindergarten Stories and Morn- 
ing Talks 

Our Daily Bread (0-6) Kindergarten Stories and Morn- 
ing Talks 

First Thanksgiving Day (6-8) . . Story Hour 

Janie Leech's Angel (6-8) Bed-time Stories 

Story of the First Corn (6-8) . For the Children's Hour 

The Candles (7-10) Andersen's Fairy Tales 

Gifts of the Altars (9-12) Old Greek Stories 

How It Happened (10-13) After Long Years 

Cyrus and the Armenian King 

(12-15) Broadening Path 




Rumpelstilzkin (0-6) For the Children's Hour 

The Jackal and the Spring 

(0-6) Golden Rule Series 

The Gingerbread Man (0-6) . . . Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Greedy Shepherd (6-8) Wonderful Chair 

Fisherman and His Wife (6-8) . Children's Book 

Fulfilled (6-10) How to Tell Stories to Children 

Sir Cleges and His Gift (7-10) . Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 
The Greedy Antelope (7-10) .. .Golden Rule Series 
The Sunken City (10-13) The Sunken City 

Helpfulness (See also Service, Kindliness, Sympathy) 

Sweet Rice Porridge (6-8) The Story in Primary Instruction 

St. Rigobert's Dinner (6-8) Book of Saints and Friendly 


Heroism (See also Self -Sacrifice, Courage) 
The Heroine of Vercheres 

(10-15) Broadening Path 

The Legend of Bregenz (10-15) Broadening Path 
Battle of the Rafts (10-15) .. .Boyhood in Norway 
French Soldier Boy (10-15) .. .Round-about Rambles 

Hero Worship 

The Red Thread (12-15) Broadening Path 

The Heart of the Bruce(12-15). Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Honor (Honesty) 

Under the Oak Tree (7- 10)... In the Heart of the Forest 

Joan of Arc (10-13) Ethics for Children 

The Man Who Refused a Bribe 

(12-15) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Regulus ( 12-15) Charlotte M. Yonge 


Three Wishes (6-8) Pied Piper 

Wonderful Traveler (6-8) Story in Primary Instruction 

Baucis and Philemon (10-13) .. Broadening Path 

Humility (Modesty) 

Milkmaid and Her Pail (0-6) . Fairy Stories and Fables 

Bragging Peacocks (0-6) Among the Farmyard People 

Little Brown Bowl (0-6) For the Children's Hour 


Humility (Modesty) Continued 

False Collar (6-8) Wonder Stories 

Frog and the Ox (6-8) How to Tell Stories to Children 

Girl Who Trod Upon Bread 

(6-8) Wonder Stories 

Proud King (6-8) Book of Legends 

Red Shoes (6-8) Wonder Stories 

The Star Child (7-10) The Happy Prince 

Emperor's New Clothes (8-10) . Wonder Stories 

Shet-Up Posy (10-15) Story-Tell Lib 

King Robert of Sicily (10-12) . . Longfellow 
Captain Scott (12-15) Golden Rule Series 


The Old Man and His Donkey 
(12-15) Broadening Path 

Industry (Laziness, Work) 

Georgie-Lie-a-Bed (0-6) Careless Jane 

Charlotte and the Ten Dwarfs 

(0-6) Kindergarten Stories and Morn 

ing Talks 

Giant Sloth and the Tiddly- 
Winks (0-6) Cat-Tails 

Little Girl Who Would Not 

Work (0-6) For the Children's Hour 

Little Red Hen (0-6) For the Children's Hour 

Beaver Story (0-6) True Fairy Stories 

Little Servants (0-6) In the Child's World 

Mother Frost (6-8) Story in Primary Instruction 

Sailor Man (6-8) Golden Windows 

Wondering Tom (6-8) Land of Pluck 

Tony and Teddy Looked for 

Fairies (7-10) My Days with the Fairies 

The Snail and the Rose Tree 

(7-10) Golden Rule Series 

Dust Under the Rug (7-10) ... Mother Stories 

Silence (10-13) Folk Tales from Many Lands 

Little Daffydowndilly (13) ... .Golden Rule Series 
For Him Who Lifts the Stone 

(12-15) Broadening Path 

Initiative (See also Determination) 
The Little Red Hen (0-6) Child Classics No. 1 


Kindliness (Mercy: See also Sympathy, Friendliness, Service) 
Mother Magpie's Mischief 

(0-6) Queer Little People 

Elder-Tree Mother (0-6) True Fairy Stories 

St. John's Eve (6-8) Fairy Tales from Folk Lore 

House in the Wood (6-8) For the Children's Hour 

How Coronis Became a Crow 

(6-8) Stories from Plato 

Eavesdropper, the Ugly Dwarf 

(6-8) For the Children's Hour 

The Gif tie (6-8) Golden Windows 

Lady Greensleeves (6-8) Wonderful Chair 

Mrs. Chinchilla (6-8) Story Hour 

Cosette (7-10) For the Children's Hour 

Two Kinds of Fun (7-10) Character Building Readers 

Why Violets Have Golden 

Hearts (7-10) Golden Rule Series 

Paulina's Christmas (10-13) ... Story-Telling 
King of the Golden River 

(12-15) Ruskin 

John Stuart Blackie (14-17) .. .Broadening Path 

Kindness to Animals 

Barry (0-6) Stories of Humble Friends 

Fido's Little Friend (0-6) Little Book of Profitable Tales 

Hans and His Dog (0-6) More Mother Stories 

Snow White and Rose Red 

(6-8) Story in Primary Instruction 

St. Gerasimus and the Lion 

(6-8) Book of Saints and Friendly 

St. Cuthbert's Peace (6-8) Book of Saints and Friendly 

St. Francis of Assisi (6-8) Book of Saints and Friendly 


The Queen Bee (7-10) Grimm's Fairy Tales 

The Yellow Jar (7-10) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Simpleton (7-10) Character Building Readers 


House of Love (0-6) Golden Windows 

Light in the Window (0-6) Bed-time Stories 

Little Mother (0-6) Bed-time Stories 

Kate Crackernuts (6-8) English Fairy Tales 

Picciola (6-8) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 


Love Continued 

Robin of the Loving Heart 

(6-8) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Coals of Fire (6-9) Bed-time Stories 

Paying Off Jane (7-10) Bed-time Stories 

Ragged Robin (7-10) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

About Angels (7-10) Golden Windows 

The Apron String (10-12) Golden Windows 

The Golden Spears (10-12) ... .The Golden Spears 

The Story of the Jipi (12-15) . .Self Culture for Young People 

Loyalty (See also Co-operation, Faithfulness, Fidelity) 
How the Home Was Built 

(6-8) For the Children's Hour 

Sir Thomas Moore (10) Golden Rule Series 

Tarlton (10) Golden Rule Series 

Modesty (See also Humility, Purity) 


Fairy Shoes (0-6) Kindergarten Story Book 

John's Nap (0-6) Dream Children 

Child Who Would Not Go to 

Bed (0-6) Careless Jane 

Wee Hare and the Red Fire 

(0-6) Story in Character Building 

Little Bat Who Wouldn't Go 

to Bed (0-6) Among the Forest People 

Raggylug (0-6) Wild Animals I Have Known 

Old Mother Webtoes (6-8) Careless Jane 

The Seven Little Goats (6-8) . . Story in Primary Instruction 
Little Pink Pig and the Big 

Road (6-8) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Search for a Good Child (7-10). Mother Stories 

Who Loved Best (7-10) My Picture Poetry Book 

So-So (7-10) Golden Rule Series 

Jimmy and the Sharper (10-13). Broadening Path 
The Matsuyama Mirror (12- 

15) Character Building Readers 

The Hour that Maisie Lost 

(7-10) My Days with the Fairies 

The Loving Cup Made of Iron 

(10-11) Golden Rule Series 

The Day (10-13) Golden Windows 


Order (See Cleanliness) 

Patience (With Self and Others) 

Wait and See (0-6) In the Child's World 

Little Rooster (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Diffent Kind o' Bundles (7-10). Story-Tell Lib 
Little Lame Prince (8-10) ... .Little Lame Prince 
The Artist's Masterpiece (10- 

13) After Long Years 

Patriotism (See also Loyalty, Heroism, Courage) 
The Patriotism of Senator 
Foelker (10-13) Ethics for Children 

The Broken Flower Pot (7-10) Ethics for Children 

Perseverance (See also Determination, Energy) 
Grasshopper and the Measuring 

Worm Run a Race (6-8) Among the Meadow People 

Bernard of the Tuileries (7- 

10) Stories from Life 

The Mouse's Tail (7-10) Character Building Readers 

Cow His Capital (10-12) Stories from Life 

Perseverance (10-13) Course in Citizenship 

The Two Travelers (10-13) .. .Ethics for Children 
Inspiration of Gambetta (12- 

15) Stories from Life 

Samuel Gridley Howe (12-15) .Course in Citizenship 
Tribune of the People (12-15) .Stories from Life 
Boy Who Said "I Must" (12- 

15) Stories from Life 


Jones and Sausage (10-13) Course in Citizenship 

The Boy from the Bottom 

(12-15) Broadening Path 


Little Ten Minutes (7-13) Broadening Path 


Closing Door (8-10) Mother Stories 

Box of Dreams (10-13) My Days with the Fairies 

Search for the Holy Grail (12- 

14) King Arthur and His Knights 

Judgment Seat of Vikramaditya 

(12-15) Story-Telling 



Quarrel (0-6) Fairy Stories and Fables 

Wolf and the Lamb (0-6) Fairy Stories and Fables 

Why the Quarrelsome Men 

Were Locked Out of the 

Bird City (6-8) Stories from Plato 

Self-Control (and Temperance) 
Willie Fox and the Glass of 

Wine (7-9) The House I Live In 

Prince Cherry (7-10) Stories to Tell to Children 

The Ring and the Courtier 

(10-13) Moral Instruction 

St. George and the Dragon 

(10-13) Golden Rule Series 

The Faithful Nurse (12-15). ..Moral Instruction 

The Holy Shadow (10-13) ... .Moral Instruction 


Apron-String (6-8) Golden Windows 

Lark and Her Young Ones 

(6-8) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 
The Black Prince (10) Golden Rule Series 

Self -Sacrifice (Magnanimity) 

Sacrifice (7-10) Seven Little People 

Story of Long Ago (10) Golden Rule Series 

Father Damien (10-13) The Red True Story Book 

Story of General Gordon (10- 

13) Ethics for Children 

Race with the Wolves (10-13) .Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Forty Wrestlers (12-15) The Christian Race 

Soldiers in the Snow Broadening Path 

Service (See also Helpfulness) 
Legend of the Great Dipper 

(0-6) Kindergarten Stories and Morn- 
ing Talks 
Little Beta and the Lame Giant 

(0-6) In Story-Land 

Little Gray Grandmother (0-6). In Story-Land 
Loving Cup (0-6) In Story-Land 


Service (See also Helpfulness) Continued 
Elves and the Shoemaker 

(0-6) For the Children's Hour 

Old Pipes and the Dryad 

(6_8) Fanciful Tales 

The Pea Blossom (6-8) Golden Rule Series 

Fair White City (6-8) In Story-Land 

Iddly Bung's April Christmas 

Tree (6-8) Stories for Kindergartens and 

Primary Schools 

Arthur and the Sword (10-12) .How to Tell Stories to Children 
Where Love Is, God Is (10-13) . Ethics for Children 
The Great Feast (10-13) Golden Windows 


Barmecide Feast (6-8) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 

King John and the Abbott 

(6-8) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 

The Clever Geese (7-10) Stories and Story-Telling 

Little Hero of Lucerne (10- 13) .Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 
Wisest Maid in Wessex (12- 
15) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 


What the Snow-Man Did (6-8). Land of Pluck 

"Go" and "Come" (6-8) Golden Windows 

Coming of the King (7-10) Character Building Readers 

Trott Goes Driving (7-10) A Course in Citizenship 

Robin Redbreast (10-13) Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 

Tact (See Kindliness, Sympathy) 

Thoroughness (Doing One's Best: See also Faithfulness) 
How to Build a Nest (7-10) . . . Boys' and Girls' Bookshelf 


Brides on Their Trial (6-8) ... German Household Tales 
The Waste Collector (10) Golden Rule Series 


Stairs (6-8) Golden Windows 

Golden Pears (7-10) Stories and Story-Telling 

Forest of Wild Thyme (10- 

13) Alfred Noyes 

Flower of Old Japan (10-13) . .Alfred Noyes 


Truthfulness (Sincerity) 

' Honest Woodman (0-6) Boston Collection of Kindergar- 
ten Stories 

Fair Melusina (0-6) Book of Legends 

Dove Who Spoke Truth (7- 

10) Good Stories for Great Holidays 

Lady Clare (12-15) Lord Tennyson 

Unselfishness (Self-denial) 

Benjie (0-6) Bed-time Stories 

How Odin Lost His Eye (6-8) . In the Days of Giants 
Dicky Smiley's Birthday (6-8) . Story Hour 
Line of Golden Light (6-8) ... In Story-Land 
Sad Story of Hog Caterpillar 

(6-8) Dooryard Stories 

Selfish Tent-Caterpillar (6-8) . . Among the Meadow People 
Thirteen Jeweled Letters (7- 

10) Course in Citizenship 

Why the Chimes Rang (7-10). .Why the Chimes Rang 
Legend of the Woodpecker (7- 

10) For the Children's Hour 

Selfish Giant (7-10) For the Story-Teller 

Sir Philip Sidney ( 10-12) Fifty Famous Stories Retold 

Coming of the King (10-13). ..Golden Windows 
The Ugly Trinket (10-13) After Long Years 

Usefulness (Helpfulness) 

Johnny Appleseed (6-8) In Story Land 

The Brownies (7-10) Golden Rule Series 

Story of Pomiuk (10-13) Broadening Path 

Hidden Servants (12-15) Stories to Tell to Children 

Apple-Seed John (12-15) For the Children's Hour 






This list is somewhat suggestive because it arranges one hun- 
dred of the best Bible stories under the virtues which they illustrate. 
The story-teller will find these and other Bible stories which will 
readily occur to him helpful as supplementing the list of stories 
for character building from secular sources given in the preceding 

Brother Love 
Esau and Jacob 
Joseph and His Brethren 


Moses and the Midianite Girls 
Jesse and Ruth 


Moses and Pharaoh 

Nathan and David 
Jonathan and His Armor 


David and Goliath 
Elijah and Jezebel 
Jesus in the Storm 
Jesus and His Enemies 
Jesus Cleansing the Temple 
Peter in Prison 
Paul at Ephesus 
Paul in the Storm 



Father Love 
Jacob and Joseph 
David and Absalom 
The Father of the Prodigal 

Filial Love 
Japhet and Noah 
Esau and Jacob 
Ruth and Naomi 

Esau and Jacob 
The Father of the Prodigal 

Onesimus and Philemon 


Daniel in the Lion's Den 
The Three Hebrew Children 
The Maccabees 
The Homeless Jesus 
The Wanderings of Paul 




David and Jonathan 

Jesus and the Daughter of 


John and Jesus 
Jesus and the Twelve 
The Farewells of Paul 

Abraham and Lot 
Abraham and the Kings of 

of the 

David and Mephibosheth 
Jesus' Feast by the Lake 

The Grateful Leper 

Greed (Avarice) 

The Wedge of Gold (Josh. 

7 and 8) 
Ananias and Sapphira 


David and Goliath 

David's Mighty Men (1 Chron. 

11, 12, 16 and 38) 
Daniel in the Lion's Den 


Abraham and the Angels 
Rebekah and Abraham's Serv- 

Abigail and David 
The Widow and Elisha 
Mary Anointing Jesus 


The Great Ship (The Ark) 
Nehemiah and the Re-build- 
ing of Jerusalem 


Cain and Abel 


Rahab and the Scarlet Cord 


The Little Captive Maid 

Christ Blessing the Children 

The Good Samaritan 

Parable of the Lost Sheep 



Isaac and Rebekah 

Magnanimity (Unselfishness) 
Jonathan and David 
David and Saul 
John the Baptist 
Jesus and Peter 
Mary of Bethany 

Mother Love 

The Mother of Moses 


Hannah and Samuel 

Mary and Jesus 

The Good Samaritan 
The Friend at Midnight 

The First Garden 
Abram's Call 
Gathering Manna 
Gideon's Soldiers 
The Young Saul 


Noah and the Flood 

The Patience of Moses with 

the Israelites 
The Death of Moses 


Patriotism Reverence 

Moses Abraham and the Angels 

Joshua Uzziah 

Deborah Josiah 

D^d The Message that Came to 

Jehu and Jezebel Job 



Judith Sister Love 

Mordecai Miriam and the Child Moses 

The Maccabees 

Penitence Superstition 

Jacob Micah and His Mother 

Zaccheus (Judges 17) 


published by the Charles Foster Publishing Co., Philadelphia. 

We can think of no other book so successful in simplicity and 
sweetness of language as this book for telling little children the 
story of Jesus. There are one hundred stones with simple line 
drawings, and each story concludes with a few easy questions for 

lished by the Fleming H. Revell Co., New York. 

The title of this book indicates the grade for which it is 
intended rather than that it is especially for kindergarten use. 
There are fifty-six short chapters, in very simple language, in 
which the intent is to bring out those features in the life and 
actions of men and women of the Bible that will be of deepest 
interest to little children. The illustrations are mostly from 
drawings of Dore. 

lished by Fleming H. Revell Co., New York. 

A very good small book, in simple language, for the youngest 

SIMPLE LANGUAGE, by Charles Foster, published by the Charles 
Foster Publishing Co., Philadelphia. 

This book is now forty years old. It has had a circulation 
of 800,000 copies and still it maintains a deservedly high place 
among story Bibles. Mr. Foster must have been a very childlike 
man who loved children and this book has been enjoyed both by 


little ones and by those who are old enough to read. It has 300 
rather quaint illustrations. 

A BOOK OF THE CHRIST CHILD, by Eleanor Hammond Broadus, pub- 
lished by D. Appleton & Co., New York 

A group of legends of the Christ Child from many sources, 
interwoven with ancient verses and illustrations from the masters. 
The stories are beautifully told and, while not collected for the 
purpose of religious instruction, they are full of spiritual sym- 
bolism which little children can deeply feel even if they cannot 

THE CASTLE OF ZION, by George Hodges, published by Houghton 
Mifflin Co., Boston. 

This is a collection of the best Old Testament stories told 
with the same simplicity and vigor as the New Testament stories 
by the same author in the book entitled "When the King Came." 
This collection will be of especial interest to young children who 
are for the first time reading and becoming acquainted with the 
great Bible stories. 

CHILD'S CHRIST TALES, by Andrea Hofer Proudfoot, published by 
A. Flanagan Co., Chicago. 

This little book contains a collection of pretty stories and 
poems about religious subjects suitable for children, and it is 
illustrated with copies of famous paintings of the Christ Child. 
THE CHRIST STORY, by Eva May Tappan, published by Houghton, 
Mifflin Co., Boston. 

The retelling of the Christ story is very beautiful. The nar- 
rative is natural, and the author tells the story of Jesus as she 
would tell it of any great man, and lets the Christ life make its 
own high appeal. The setting as to customs, environment, char- 
acters is vivid and picturesque. The book is well adapted to boys 
and girls 12 to 14, especially in the story-telling, because it gives 
the rich background without really touching the original beauty 
of the Bible story of the Christ. 

AN OLD, OLD STORY BOOK, by Eva May Tappan, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

This book is not an attempt to bring down the Scriptures to 
children. It is simply a collection of Old Testament stories, 
given in the words of the Bible, but arranged like other books in 
paragraphs rather than in verses. It is the Bible story in its 
original setting with the wise elimination of the parts not suited 
to the interest or welfare of young people. It is the best 
possible sort of an adaptation which can be made for Bible 

SAINTS AND HEROES, by George Hodges, published by Henry Holt & 
Co., New York. 


published by Duffield & Co., New York. 

This is a strong and simple narrative of the Bible, using very 
largely the Bible language. It is profusely illustrated with colored 

TELL ME A TRUE STORY, by Mary Stewart, published by Fleming H. 
Revell Co., New York. 

Bible stories for the children told by a gifted story-teller. 
Dr. Henry Van Dyke says: 'This little book does a useful and 
much needed thing in a simple and beautiful way. It is written 
for children by one who understands and loves them. It brings 
the spirit and meaning of Christianity down, or I should rather 
say up, to their level. It is not only plain in its language, but 
clear and natural in its thought and feeling." 

WHEN THE KING CAME, by George Hodges, published by Houghton, 
Mifflin Co., Boston. 

On account of its simple, picturesque style, its pure and beau- 
tiful English, and its reverent attitude, this story of the life of 
Jesus for young people is to be most highly commended. The 
author's endeavor is to follow the order of the Gospel harmony, 
and to approach as far as possible the Scripture attitude and 

BIBLE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, by S. E. Dawes, published by the 
Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New York. 

This is a close paraphrase of the Bible language, but is per- 
fectly simple and understandable. It is suitable for children just 
a little older than those who would enjoy "First Steps for Little 
Feet." The first story is of the Flood and the last that of John 
the Beloved Disciple. 

OLD STORIES FROM THE EAST, by James Baldwin, published by the 
American Book Co., New York. 

This well known writer of boys' stories has prepared a small 
collection of Old Testament stories as supplemental reading for 
boys and girls from eight to twelve years of age. The style is 
that of the modern story-teller. The names of the Old Testa- 
ment characters are given with their meanings, such as Gazelle 
for Jael, Laughter for Isaac, etc. No attempt is made to follow 
the stately language of the King James version but rather the 
contrary. The result is that the stories have unusual strength 
and vigor. 

THE HEART OF THE BIBLE, edited by Ella Broadus Robertson, pub- 
lished by Thomas Nelson & Co., New York. 

An arrangement of selections from the American Standard 
version of the Bible. The endeavor is to trace the "thread of 
Providence and purpose" from the beginning to the end of the 


Scriptures. Each story narrative is graphic, the poets and 
prophets are grouped about great sections of history, the epics are 
presented as personal and vital letters and the effort of the editor 
is to give proper perspective to the whole. The type is large and 
the illustrations are in color, and the book is a most attractive 
one to encourage a child to really read and master the contents 
of the Scriptures. 

BOYS OF THE BIBLE, by Norma Bright Carson, published by the 
Fleming H. Revell Co., New York. 

Short chapters of about 1,000 words each, in which the stories 
of twenty-two different heroes of the Old and New Testaments 
are told in simple language for children in the first two or three 
grades of school. 

THE BIBLE FOR CHILDREN, by H. Thiselton Mark, published by the 
Fleming H. Revell Co., New York. 

A selection of Bible stories told in the language of the Bible 
itself, such as children up to ten or eleven years of age can 
readily understand. The stories are chosen so as to give a gen- 
eral view of the leading incidents in both the Old and New Testa- 
ments. They are illustrated by a few photogravures from differ- 
ent artists. 

THE STORY OF THE BIBLE, by Jesse L. Hurlbut, published by the John 
C. Winston Co., Philadelphia. 

A big book of 750 pages, containing nearly 200 stories from 
the Bible. The language follows quite closely that of the Scrip- 
tures, but it is considerably simplified. It is the most lavishly 
illustrated Bible story-book, in one volume, available. The pic- 
tures are both photogravures and in colors. The book is not 
well suited to too little children. 






ALDIN, "Field Babies," George H. Doran & Co., Boston 3-6 

TRIMMER, "History of the Robin," D. C. Heath & Co., New 

York 4-6 

BRYCE, "That's Why Stories," Newson & Son, New York 4-6 

COOK, "Nature Myths," A. Flanagan Co., Chicago 4-6 

GRIEB, "Glimpses of Nature for Little Folks," D. C Heath 

& Co., New York 4-6 

STICKNEY, "Pets and Companions" 5-6 

AIKEN & BARBAULD, "Eyes and No Eyes," D. C. Heath & Co., 

New York 5-7 

WRIGHT, "Seaside and Wayside," D. C Heath & Co., New 

York 5-7 

JORDAN, "True Tales of Birds and Beasts," D. C. Heath & Co., 

New York 6-9 

DUGDALE, "Book of Baby Beasts," George H. Doran & Co., 

Boston 6-9 

SAUNDERS, "Beautiful Joe," Griffith & Rowland, New York.. 6-9 
BROWN, "Book of Curious Birds," Houghton Mifflin Co., Bos- 
ton 6-9 

HOLBROOK, "Book of Nature Myths," Houghton, Mifflin Co., 

Boston 6-9 

FARMER, "Nature Myths of Many Lands," American Book Co., 

New York 6-9 

MARKS & MOODY, "Little Busybodies," Harper & Bros., New 

York 6-9 

GRINNELL, "Our Feathered Friends," D. C. Heath & Co, 

New York 6-9 

SEWELL, "Black Beauty," Geo. W. Jacobs & Co., Philadelphia. . 6-9 
CARTER, "Stories of Brave Dogs," Century Co., New York. . 6-9 
BURN HAM, "Descriptive Stories for All the Year," Milton 

Bradley Co., Springfield 6-9 

ALLEN, "Stories for Wakeland and Dreamland," Milton Brad- 
ley Co., Springfield 6-9 


STAFFORD, "Animal Fables," American Book Co., New York.. 7-8 
ABBOTT, "A Boy on a Farm," American Book Co., New York. . 7-8 
SETON, "Lobo, Rag and Vixen," Chas. Scribner's Sons, New 

York 7-9 

ANDREWS, "Stories Mother Nature Told Her Children," Ginn 

& Co., Boston '. . 7-9 

MILLER, "True Bird Stories," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston.. 7-9 
PYLE, "Stories of Humble Friends," American Book Co., New 

York 7-9 

HARDY, "The Little King and the Princess True," Rand, Mc- 

Nally & Co., Chicago 7-10 

BRADISH, "Stories of Country Life," American Book Co., New 

York 8-9 

BINGHAM, "Merry Animal Tales," Little Brown & Co., Boston 8-9 
BOURKE, "Fables in Feathers," Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New 

York 8-9 

LANG, "Animal Story Book," Longmans, Green & Co., New 

York 8-10 

LONG, "Ways of the Wood Folk," Ginn & Co., Boston 9-12 

PORTER, "Stars in Song and Legend," Ginn & Co., Boston.... 9-12 
STONE & FICKETT, "Trees in Prose and Poetry," Ginn & Co., 

Boston 9-12 

PIERSON, "Among the Night People," "Among the Forest Peo- 
ple," "Among the Meadow People/' "Among the Bird Peo- 
ple," E. P. Button & Co., New York 9-12 

BURROUGHS, "Bird Stories from Burroughs," Houghton, Mifflin 

Co., Boston 9-12 

SCUDDER, "Frail Children of the Air," Houghton, Mifflin Co., 

Boston 9-12 

FUERTES, "True Bird Stories from My Notebook," Houghton 

Mifflin Co., Boston 9-12 

ENDIGN, "Lady Lee and Other Animal Stories," American Book 

Co., New York 9-12 

HOLDEN, "Stories of Animal Life," American Book Co., New 

York 9-12 

KELLY, "Short Stories of Our Shy Neighbors," American Book 

Co., New York W- 11 

BALDWIN, "Wonder Book of Horses," Century Co., New York. 10- 12 
JORDAN, "True Tales of Birds and Beasts," D. C Heath & 

Co., New York n - 12 

HOLDER, "Stories of Animal Life," American Book Co., New 

York n ' 12 

SETON, "Animal Heroes," Charles Scribner's Sons, New York.. 12-14 



PRATT, "Legends of the Red Children/' American Book Co., 

New York 6-9 

BASS, "Stories of Pioneer Life," D. C. Heath & Co., Boston 6-9 

DOPP, "Story of the Early Sea People," Rand, McNally & Co., 

Chicago 6-9 

PUMPHREY, "Stories of the Pilgrims," Rand, McNally & Co., 

Chicago 7-9 

EGGLESTON, "Stories of American Life and Adventure," Ameri- 
can Book Co., New York 9-12 

LIVINGSTON, "Glimpses of Pioneer Life," A. Flanagan Co., 

Chicago 9-12 

BOOTH, "Wonderful Escapes by Americans," Houghton, Mif- 

flin Co., Boston 9-12 

BOOTH, "Old World Hero Stories," Houghton, Mifflin Co., 

Boston 9-12 

HOPKINS, "The Indian Book," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston.. 9-12 

ANDREWS, "Ten Boys Who Lived on the Road from Long 

Ago to Now/' Ginn & Co., Boston k 9-12 

PRATT-CHADWICK, "America's Story for America's Children," 

D. C. Heath & Co., New York 9-12 

BLAISDELL & BALL, "Hero Stories from American History," 

Ginn & Co., Boston 9-12 

HOLLAND, "Historic Boyhoods," "Historic Girlhoods," Geo. W. 

Jacobs & Co., Philadelphia 10-12 

SWEETZER, "Ten Girls from History," "Ten Boys from His- 
tory," Duffield & Co., New York 10-12 

BROOKS, "Historic Girls and Historic Boys," G. P. Putnam's 

Sons, New York . ..10-12 


BINGHAM, "Little Folks' Land," Atkinson, Mentzer & Co., 

Chicago 4-6 

PIERSON, "Among the Farm Yard People," E. P. Button & Co., 

New York 4-6 

HOPKINS, "The Doers," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston 5-7 

SMITH, "The Railroad Book," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston.. 6-9 

SMITH, "The Farm Book," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston 6-9 

SMITH, "The Sea Shore Book," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 6-9 

SHILLIG, "The Four Wonders/' Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago 6-9 


ABBOTT, "The Boy on the Farm," American Book Co., New 

York 7-9 

PARKER HELM, "On the Farm," D. Appleton & Co., New York 7-9 
BRADDISH, "Stories of Country Life," American Book Co., New 

York 7-9 

ADAMS, "The Log of a Cowboy," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Bos- 
ton 9-12 

COE, "Heroes of Everyday Life," Ginn & Co., Boston 12-14 

MOFFETT, "Careers of Danger and Daring," Century Co., New 

York 12-16 


"Around the World with Father," "Sunshine and Shower," 

Sully & Kleinteich, New York 5-7 

SMITH, "Holland Stories," Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston 6-9 

CHANCE, "Little Folks of Many Lands," Ginn & Co., Boston.. 6-9 
BLAISDELL, "Child Life in Many Lands," Macmillan Co., New 

York 6-9 

ANDREWS, "Seven Little Sisters," Ginn & Co., Boston 6-9 

WILLIAMS, "Romance of Modern Exploration," J. B. Lippin- 

cott Co., Philadelphia 12-14 

JENKS, "Boys' Book of Explorations," Doubleday, Page & 

Co., New. York 12-14 


GROVER, "Folk Lore Readers" (2 Vols.), American Book Co., 

New York 4-6 

"Chaucer Story Book," Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston 6-9 

ADAMS, "Folk Stories and Verse," American Book Co., New 

York 6-9 

NIXON-BOULET, "Indian Folk Tales," American Book Co., New 

York 6-9 

GILBERT, "More than Conquerors," Century Co., New York 9-12 


CABOT, ET AL., "Course in Citizenship," Houghton, Mifflin Co., 

Boston 5-14 


See Appendix III. 



SCHWARTZ, "Five Little Strangers," American Book Co., New 

York 6-9 

WIGGIN, "Half a Dozen Housekeepers," Henry Altemus & Co., 

Philadelphia 9-12 

RANKJN, "Dandelion Cottage," Henry Holt & Co., New York.. 9-12 




(a) Beauty of thought or language 

"The Wild Swans," Andersen 
"The Happy Prince," Wilde 
"The Selfish Giant," Wilde 
"Thumbelina," Andersen 
"Old Pipes and the Dryad," Stockton 
"The Little Lame Prince," Mulock 
"The Nightingale," Andersen 

"The Sacred Fire" (for older children or Library 
Leagues), Lagerlof 

(b) Truth, ethical or real 

"The Little Hero of Haarlem" 
"Prince Harweda," Harrison 
"The Great Stone Face," Hawthorne 
"The Fisherman and His Wife," Grimm 
"The King of the Golden River," Ruskin 
"The Stone Cutter," Japanese 
"The Mirror of Matsuyama," Japanese 
"Timothy's Shows," Ewing 
"Waste Not, Want Not," Edgeworth 
"Golden Windows," Richards 
"The Pig Brother," Richards 
"The Ugly Duckling," Andersen 
[(c) Natural history stories 
"The Busy Bees" 
"The Spinner Family" 
"The Ants and Their Houses" 
"Rikki-tikki-tavi," Kipling 
"Raggylug," Seton 
"The Bell of Atri" 
"The Wonderful Adventures of Nils," Lagerlof 


(d) Joy, laughter and a sense of real humor 

"Peter Pan," Barrie 

"Epaminondas," Bryant 

"The Bremen Town Musicians," Grimm 

"What the Good Man Does is Sure to Be Right," 


"Uncle Remus Stories," Harris 
"The Elephant's Child," Kipling 
"The Donkey Cabbage," Grimm 
"Why the Sea Is Salt" 
"The Golden Goose," Grimm 
"Big Claus and Little Claus," Andersen 
"The Bee, the Harp, the Mouse and the Bum-clock," 


"The Plaisham," MacManus 
"Hookedy-Crookedy," MacManus 
"The Emperor's New Clothes," Andersen 
"Little Black Sambo," Bannerman 

(e) Fairy tales 

"The Goose Girl," Grimm 

"Diamonds and Toads," Perrault 

"Puss in Boots," Perrault 

"Jack and the Beanstalk," Old English 

"Cinderella," Perrault 

"The Tinder Box," Andersen 

"The White Cats," d'Aulnoy 

"East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon," Asbjornsen 

"Rumpelstilzkin," Grimm 

"Snow-White ; or, the Magic Mirror," Grimm 

(f) Christmas Stories 

"Why the Chimes Rang," Alden 

"The Little Shepherd of Provence," Stein 

"St. Christopher" 

"Babouscka," Russian 

"The Fir Tree," Andersen 

"The Christmas Cuckoo," Browne 

"A Boy's Visit to Santa Claus," Wyche 

"The Golden Cobwebs," Bryant 

"The Christmas Masquerade," Freeman 

LITERARY VALUE (to form reading taste) 

(a) Classics which cultivate the imagination and raise the 


Stories from "The Odyssey" 
Stories from "The Iliad" 


Stories from "The Arabian Nights" 


"Ali Baba" 

"The Enchanted Horse" 
Stories from Scott 

"The Lady of the Lake" 

"The Lord of the Isles" 
Stories from Irving 

"The Moor's Legacy" 

"Rip Van Winkle" 
Stories from Hawthorne's "Wonderbook" and "Tan- 

glewood Tales" 
Stories from Kingsley's "Heroes" 

(b) Legends and myths belonging to the race 

"Norse Stories" 
"Volsunga Saga" 
"King Arthur" 

(c) Old and very famous stories which the child might 

otherwise miss 
Old Testament stories 

"Joseph and His Brethren" 

"David and Goliath" 
"The Pied Piper," Browning 
"The Nurnberg Stove," De la Ramee 
"St. George and the Dragon," Spenser 
"Una and the Lion," Spenser 
"Dick Whittington," English 
"Robert of Sicily," Longfellow 
"Robinson Crusoe," Defoe 


(a) Picture of famous scenes or incidents 

"William Tell" 


"Henry Hudson" 

"Grace Darling" 

"Florence Nightingale" 

"Elizabeth Zare" 

"The Great Locomotive Chase," Pittinger 

(b) Patriotic sentiment: devotion to patriotic ideals 

"Joan of Arc" 
"Lydia Darrah" 
"Molly Pitcher" 
"Nathan Hale" 


"The Man Without a Country," Hale 
"Peter of Switzerland" 
"The Sardinian Drummer Boy," Amicia 
(c) Biographical: to make great men real and human 
Heroes of the sea 



"Paul Jones" 


"Lord Nelson" 

"Little Jarvis" 


"Robert the Bruce" 
"Daniel Boone" 
"General Custer" 



Story-tellers are already beginning to ask for programs of 
stories suitable to tell with bottle dolls, extensive enough to last 
for an entire season. Story-tellers and play-fellows in children's 
libraries, public schools and playgrounds have already secured from 
Mrs. Lowe sets of her charming character dolls, made by her own 
hands. They are eager to know if there are enough stories to last 
for the entire winter. 

It is believed that to follow graded programs as below, inter- 
spersed with doll stories originated or adapted by the story-teller 
and by stories originated by children, will be quite satisfactory 
for this purpose. The methods suggested in the previous chapters 
will be sufficient as a guide to the alert teacher. The following 
stories have been chosen because of their simplicity of plot and of 
scenery, and because most of them suggest the spirit which is in 
Mrs. Lowe's own stories. 


1. "Frank Enters the Enchanted Land," by Mary Lowe 

2. "Frank and Ruth Visit the Enchanted Land," by Mary Lowe 


3. "Silver Bells," by Mary Lowe 

4. "Lena and Puck in the Enchanted Land," by Mary Lowe 

5. "When Lena Hid from the Fairy Queen/' by Mary Lowe 

6. "The Lovely Lady," by Mary Lowe 

7. "The Fox and the Farmer," by Mary Lowe 

8. "When the Chimes Rang," by Raymond M. Alden, in Emilie 

Poulsson's "In the Child's World" 

9. "The Pig Brother," in Sara Cone Bryant's "How to Tell 

Stories to Children" 

10. "Little Daylight," in "How to Tell Stories to Children" 

11. "The Tale of Peter Rabbit," by Beatrix Potter 

12. "The Children in the Wood," in "Stories Children Love" 

13. "Little Goody Two- Shoes," in "Stones Children Love" 

14. "One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes," in "Fairy Tales Every 

Child Should Know" 

15. "The Magic Mirror," in "Fairy Tales Every Child Should 


16. "Hansel and Gretel," in "Fairy Tales Every Child Should 


17. "Prince Cherry," in Sara Cone Bryant's "Stories to Tell to 


1. "Frank Enters the Enchanted Land," by Mary Lowe 

2. "Frank and Ruth Visit the Enchanted Land," by Mary Lowe 

3. "The Know Nothing Land," by Mary Lowe 

4. "The King of the Golden River," abridged by Sara Cone 

Bryant in "How to Tell Stories to Children" 

5. "Timothy's Quest," by Kate Douglas Wiggin 

6. "Editha's Burglar," by Frances Hodgson Burnett 

7. "Raleigh's Cloak." in "Stories Children Love" 

8. "The Story of Prince Scarlet," in "Once Upon a Time 


9. "The Princess Meadow Lark," in "Once Upon a Time Tales" 

10. "Heather Fairies," in "Once Upon a Time Tales" 

11. "Storm Swallows," in "Once Upon a Time Tales" 

12. "The Enchanted Wood," in "Once Upon a Time Tales" 

13. "Paulina's Christmas," in E. N. and G. E. Partridge's "Story- 

Telling in School and Home" 



'The best story-tellers are the poor," said Stevenson once, "for 
they have to lay their ear to the ground every night." In this sense 
most of us must acknowledge that we are to be numbered with the 
poor. We are never found with full granaries. 

"One's favorite story," as St. John tells us, "is usually the best. 
Whatever one has deeply felt will appeal to many others, if it is 
rightly presented. The stories that have moved you are the ones 
through which you, if not another, can best stir other hearts. The 
novels that you remember, the characters in history that stand out, 
the incidents of every-day life that stirred your sympathy or admira- 
tion, the friends that you have loved, these are the things that, 
shaped into simple stories, will go from your lips to the hearts of 
those that listen. With these stories you will give yourself." 

We have spoken of the extraordinary charm which reminis- 
cences of one's own life have, if they are told brightly and humor- 
ously to children. Mr. St. John is right in saying that whatever 
we have read as well as experienced shares in this power. 

We who have many stories to tell ought to keep and file them as 
they come to us out of the monthly magazines and the fugitive press. 
Nobody can ever have too many apt funny stories; no parent can 
ever have too many children's stories in pickle. 

There are also whole sheaves of good story-books. Of these 
a good list is given below. The list consists almost entirely of col- 
lections of separate stories. A few books are mentioned containing 
other lists of story-books. This list is of stories of some literary 
quality. The lists at the end of previous chapters were for other 
specific purposes and include few books mentioned here. 


Agnes M. Dunne, published by A. S. Barnes & Co., New York. 

Some old-fashioned stories with a moral purpose. 
ALL THE YEAR ROUND, 3 vols., by Frances Lucia Strong, published 

by Ginn & Co., Boston. 

AUNT Jo's SCRAP BAG, by Louisa M. Alcott, published by Little, 
Brown & Co., New York. 

Good, sensible home stories of real life of the sort which 
children from seven to ten ask to hear. 


BALLADS AND TALES, by Haaren, published by the University Press, 

BASKET WOMAN, by Mrs. Mary Austin, published by Houghton, 
Mifflin Co., Boston. 

BED-TIME STORIES, by Louise Chandler Moulton, published by Little, 
Brown & Co., Boston. 

BIMBI STORIES FOR CHILDREN, by Louise De la Ramee, published by 
Ginn & Co., Boston. 

BLUE BIRD FOR CHILDREN, THE, by Mme. Maurice Maeterlinck, pub- 
lished by Silver, Burdett & Co., New York. 

BLUE FAIRY BOOK, THE, by Andrew Lang, published by Longmans, 
Green & Co., New York. 

Of the score of collections of fairy tales made by Andrew 
Lang, this and "The Red Fairy Book" are generally considered 
the best. 

BOOK OF BALLAD STORIES, by Mary MacLeod, published by F. A. 
Stokes Co., New York. 
Prose versions of 340 English and Scotch ballads. 

BOOK OF FOLK STORIES, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by 
Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

BOOK OF FRIENDLY GIANTS, by Eunice Foster, published by the Cen- 
tury Co., New York. 

BOOK OF LEGENDS, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

BOOK OF LEGENDS TOLD OVER AGAIN, by Horace Elisha Scudder, 
published by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

BOOK OF LITTLE BOYS, by Helen Dawes Brown, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

published by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

Charming tales of lovable saints and the animals for which 
they cared. 

Hammett Co., Boston. 

BOYHOOD IN NORWAY, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen, published by 
Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

BRAIDED STRAWS, by Elizabeth E. Foulke, published by Silver, Bur- 
dett & Co., New York. 

BROADENING PATH, THE, by William Byron Forbush, published by 
B. F. Bowen & Co., Indianapolis. 

A mammoth collection of stories with a moral purpose; now 
out of print. 

CARELESS JANE AND OTHER TALES, by Katharine Pyle, published by 
E. P. Button & Co., New York. 


CAT-TAILS AND OTHER TALES, by Mary H. Howliston, published by 

A. Flanagan Co., Chicago. 

CHARACTER BUILDING READERS, published by Hinds, Noble & El- 
dridge, Philadelphia. 

Nine volumes of well chosen stories, mostly having a moral 
purpose, intended for school reading-books. 
CHILD LIFE IN PROSE, by J. G. Whittier, published by Houghton, 

Mifflin Co., Boston. 

CHILDREN'S BOOK, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

One of the best collections of stories for children of all ages 
in the home. 
CHILDREN'S BOOK, THE, by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Cupples and 

Son Co., New York. 

CHILD'S CHRIST TALES, by A. H. Proudfoot, published by A. Flana- 
gan Co., Chicago. 

CHILD'S TREASURE TROVE OF PEARLS, by Mary W. Tileston, published 
by Little, Brown & Co., Boston. 

An excellent compilation of stories of thirty to sixty years 
ago, of varied sorts and for all grades. 
CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY, by W. D. Howells, published by Harper & 

Bros., New York. 
CROOKED OAK TREE, by Carter & Field, published by Frederick 

Warne, New York. 
CRUIKSHANK FAIRY BOOK, published by G. P. Putnam's Sons, New 

CURLY HEAD AND His NEIGHBORS, by Carter & Field, published by 

Frederick Warne, New York. 
DANISH FAIRY TALES, from Svend Grundtvig, published by Duffield 

& Co., New York. 

lished by Milton Bradley Company, Springfield. 

A collection of stories for little children, indexed according 
to the seasons of the year. 

DONEGAL FAIRY BOOK, by Seumas MacManus, published by Double- 
day, Page & Co., New York. 

DON QUIXOTE, edited by Mary E. Burt and Lucy L. Cable, published 
by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

A simplified version. 

DREAM CHILDREN, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

EACH AND ALL, by Jane Andrews, published by Ginn & Co., Bos- 


EAST o' THE SUN AND WEST o' THE MOON, by Gudrun Thorn Thorn- 
sen, published by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 

Norwegian folk-tales. 

ENGLISH FAIRY TALES, by Joseph Jacobs, published by G. P. Put- 
nam's Sons, New York. 

This, and its sequel, "More English Fairy Tales," is the best 
collection of stories indicated by the title. 

ETHICS FOR CHILDREN, by Ella Lyman Cabot, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

Well chosen stories with a moral purpose. 

EYES AND No EYES, by J. Aiken and others, published by D. C. 
Heath & Co., New York. 

Old-fashioned stories intended to awaken the intelligence of 
FABLES AND FOLK STORIES, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

FAIRY LIFE, by Haaren, published by the University Press, Chicago. 
FAIRY RING, THE, by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora A. Smith, 
published by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 

Designed by its editors to be a standard fairy book for 
FAIRY STORIES AND FABLES, by James Baldwin, published by the 

American Book Co., New York. 

FAIRY TALES, by Hans Christian Andersen. Illustrated by Thomas 
C. and William Robinson. Translated by Mrs. E. V. Lucas. 
Published by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 
FAIRY TALES, by Jacob K. L. and W. K. Grimm. Illustrated by 
Arthur Rackham. Translated by Mrs. E. V. Lucas. Published 
by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 

published by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 

Especially helpful for encouraging children to retell and 
enact the stories they have listened to. 
FAIRY TALES CHILDREN LOVE, by Charles Welsh, published by the 

Dodge Publishing Co., New York. 
FAIRY TALES FROM THE FAR NORTH, by P. C. Asbjornsen, published 

by A. L. Burt & Co., New York. 
FANCIFUL TALES, by Francis R. Stockton, published by Charles 

Scribner's Sons, New York. 

FIFTY FAMOUS STORIES RETOLD, by James Baldwin, published by the 
American Book Co., New York. 

An unusually fine collection of stories of heroism and ad- 



FIRELIGHT STORIES, by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, published by the 
Milton Bradley Company, Springfield. 

A group of old folk tales from many lands. 

FIVE MINUTE STORIES, by Laura E. Richards, published by Dana 
Estes & Co., Boston. 

This and her "More Five Minute Stories" and her "Three 
Minute Stories" are nice little tales, moral in character, for small 

Coe, published by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
FOLK TALES FROM MANY LANDS, by Lillian Cask, published by 

Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New York. 
FOLK TALES FROM THE RUSSIAN, by V. X. K. Blumental, published 

by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 

FOLK TALES OF EAST AND WEST, by John Harrington Cox, pub- 
lished by Little, Brown & Co., Boston. 
FOR THE CHILDREN'S HOUR, by Carolyn S. Bailey and Clara M. 

Lewis, published by Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 
FORGOTTEN TALES OF LONG AGO, by E. V. Lucas, published by F. A. 
Stokes Co., New York. 

A valuable collection of twenty quaint and stilted tales of the 
period of 1790-1830. 
FORTY-FOUR TURKISH FAIRY TALES, translated by Ignacz Kunos, 

published by T. Y. Crowell & Co., New York. 
GERMAN HOUSEHOLD TALES, by Jacob K. L. and W. K. Grimm, 

published by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

GOLDEN RULE SEsi^sTTby E. Hershey Sneath, George Hodges and 
Lawrence EdwaTcT^teyens, published by the Macmillan Co., 
New York. 

An excellent series of school readers in several volumes, 
composed of stories with a moral purpose, mostly of fine literary 

GOLDEN SPEARS, THE, by Edmund Leamy, published by D. Fitz- 
gerald, New York. 

The finest collection of fairy stories which has been written 
in our generation. Another is his "The Fairy Minstrel of Glen- 
malure," by the same publisher. 

GOLDEN WINDOWS, THE, by Laura E. Richards, published by Little, 
Brown & Co., Boston. 

An especially fine selection of stories for little children. 
GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS, by Frances Jenkins Olcott, pub- 
lished by Houghton, Miiflin Co., Boston. 

HALF A HUNDRED STORIES, published by Milton Bradley Co., Spring- 



Library Commission of Indiana, 1908. 
HEART OF OAK BOOKS, by Charles Eliot Norton, published by D. C. 

Heath & Co., New York. 

A series of school readers of fine literary quality, including 
some stories intended for character-building. 
HERAKLES, THE HERO OF THEBES, by Mary E. Burt and Z. A. 

Ragozin, published by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 
HEROES, by Charles Kingsley, published by Ginn & Co., Boston. 
HEROES OF THE DAWN, by Violet Russell, published by the Mac- 

millan Company, New York. 

Irish folk-tales. 

HOLIDAYS : ST. NICHOLAS, published by the Century Co., New York. 
HOUSE I LIVE IN, THE, by Brown, published by the American Book 

Co., New York. 

HOUSEHOLD STORIES, by Annie Klingensmith, published by A. Flana- 
gan Co., Chicago. 
How TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN, by Sara Cone Bryant, published 

by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
IN STORY-LAND, by Elizabeth Harrison, published by the Central 

Publishing Company. 

Is not a new book, but is a very good one. 
INDEX TO SHORT STORIES, by Grace E. Salisbury and Marie E. Beck- 

with, published by Row, Peterson & Co., Chicago. 
IN THE CHILD'S WORLD, by Emilie Poulsson, published by Milton 

Bradley Co., Springfield. 
IN THE DAYS OF GIANTS, by Abbie Farwell Brown, published by 

Houghton, Mififlin Co., Boston. 

Miller and Agnes M. Dunne, published by A. S. Barnes & Co., 

New York. 
JAPANESE FAIRY TALES, by Teresa Peirce Williston, published by 

Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 
JAPANESE FAIRY TALES, by Yee Theodosia Ozaki, published by A. L. 

Burt & Co., New York. 
JEWEL'S STORY BOOK, by Clara Louise Burnham, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

JIMPY STORIES, THE, by H. Grace Parsons, published by E. P. But- 
ton & Co., New York. 

A collection of "bed time stories" inspired by the jingles of 

Mother Goose, with Jimpy as the hero; quaintly simple, but 

possessing a form of philosophy that appeals to little children. 

JUNGLE BOOKS, by Rudyard Kipling, published by the Century Co., 

New York. 


JUST So STORIES, by Rudyard Kipling, published by Doubleday, 

Page & Co., New York. 

Unique plots and unique humor. They need to be told in 
the author's own words. 

published by Ginn & Co., Boston. 
KINDERGARTEN STORY BOOK, by Jane Lincoln Hoxie, published by 

Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 

KING ARTHUR AND His KNIGHTS, by Maude Lavinia Radford, pub- 
lished by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 

published by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 
LAND OF PLUCK, by Mary Mapes Dodge, published by the Century 

Co., New York. 
LEGENDS OF THE RED CHILDREN, by M. L. Pratt-Chadwick, published 

by E. S. Werner & Co., New York. 

LEGENDS OF THE SPRINGTIME, by R. Hoyt, published by the Educa- 
tional Publishing Co., Chicago. 
LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES, by Eugene Field, published by 

Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 
LITTLE FIG TREE SERIES, by Mary Hallock Foote, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
LOBO, RAG AND VIXEN, by Ernest Thompson Seton, published by 

Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 
MAGIC CASEMENTS, by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora A. Smith, 

published by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 
MORAL INSTRUCTION, by F. J. Gould, published by Longmans, Green 

& Co., New York. 

A description of Mr. Gould's method of developing character 
through stories, illustrated by a number of actual tales. 
MORE ENGLISH FAIRY TALES, by Joseph Jacobs, published by G. P. 

Putnam's Sons, New York. 
MORE FIVE MINUTE STORIES, by Laura E. Richards, published by 

Dana Estes & Co., Boston. 
MORE MOTHER STORIES, by Maud Lindsay, published by Milton 

Bradley Co., Springfield. 

This and her "Mother Stories" are skilfully wrought moral 
stories interesting to children from five to nine. 
MOTHER GOOSE VILLAGE, by Madge A. Bingham, published by Rand, 

McNally & Co., Chicago. 
MOTHER. STORIES, by Maud Lindsay, published by Milton Bradley 

Co., Springfield. 
MY DAYS WITH THE FAIRIES, by Mrs. Rodolph Stawell, published 

by Hodder & Stoughton, New York. 


MYTHS AND MOTHER PLAYS, by Sara Eliza Wiltse, published by 

Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 
MYTHS EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW, edited by Hamilton Wright 

Mabie, published by Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, New 

NATURE MYTHS AND STORIES, by Flora J. Cooke, published by A. 

Flanagan Co., Chicago. 
NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS, by Joel Chandler Harris, published by 

Houghton, Miflflin Co., Boston. 

One of the universal books of humor. Peculiarly adapted for 
reading aloud. 
NORSE FAIRY TALES, by P. C Asbjornsen, published by J. B. Lippin- 

cott & Co., Philadelphia. 
NORSE STORIES, by Hamilton Wright Mabie, published by Dodd, 

Mead & Co., New York. 
ODYSSEUS, THE HERO OF ITHACA, by Mary E. Burt and Z. A. Rago- 

zin, published by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 
OLD GREEK STORIES, by James Baldwin, published by the American 

Book Co., New York. 
OLD INDIAN LEGENDS, by Zitkala-sa, published by Ginn & Co., 


lished by T. Y. Crowell & Co., New York. 
Novel stories, with wood engravings by William De Morgan, 

the novelist. 
ONCE UPON A TIME TALES, by Mary Stewart published by Fleming 

H. Revell Co., New York. 

PIED PIPER AND OTHER STORIES, by Banta, published by A. Flana- 
gan Co., Chicago. 
PLAY DAYS, by Sarah Orne Jewett, published by Houghton, Mifflin 

Co., Boston. 
QUEER LITTLE PEOPLE, by Harriet Beecher Stowe, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

F. Bass, published by A. Flanagan Co., Chicago. 
RAB AND His FRIENDS, by John Brown, published by D. C. Heath 

& Co., New York. 
RAINY DAYS AND SUNNY DAYS, by Mrs. Kate Patch, published by 

Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 
ROUND ABOUT RAMBLES, by Francis R. Stockton, published by 

Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 

Houghton, published by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York. 


SAM; OR, OUR CAT TALES, by C. Louise Schaffner, published by 
Atkinson, Mentzer & Co., New York. 

An extraordinary book for little children. 

SANDMAN : MORE FARM STORIES, by William John Hopkins, pub- 
lished by L. C. Page & Co., Boston. 

SEED BABIES, by Margaret W. Morley, published by Ginn & Co., 

SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
SEVEN LITTLE SISTERS, by Jane Andrews, published by Ginn & Co., 

SHORT STORIES OF OUR SHY NEIGHBORS, by M. Kelly, published by the 

American Book Co., New York. 
SLEEPY TIME STORY BOOK, THE, by Ruth O. Dyer, published by 

Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Co., Boston. 

published by Harper & Bros., New York. 
SONGS AND STORIES, by Haaren, published by the University Press, 

SPINNING WHEEL STORIES, by Louise M. Alcott, published by Little, 

Brown & Co., Boston. 
ST. NICHOLAS CHILDREN'S BOOK, published by the Century Co., New 


STAR JEWELS AND OTHER WONDERS, by Abbie Farwell Brown, pub- 
lished by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
STORIES AND POEMS FOR CHILDREN, by Celia Thaxter, published by 

Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
STORIES CHILDREN LOVE, by Charles Welsh, published by the Dodge 

Publishing Co., New York. 

Wiltse, published by the American Book Co., New York. 
STORIES FOR LITTLE LISTENERS, by Margaret Boughton, published by 

Charles & Dible, London. 

PRIMARY CHILDREN, by Anne Elizabeth Allen, published by the 

Milton Bradley Co., Springfield. 

A collection of stories based almost entirely upon nature 
motives and following the round of the year. 
STORIES FROM FAMOUS BALLADS, by Sara Jane Lippincott, published 

by Ginn & Co., Boston. 
STORIES FROM LIFE, by Orison Swett Marden, published by the 

American Book Co., New York, 


STORIES FROM MY ATTIC, by Horace Elisha Scudder, published by 
Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

published by Frederick A. Stokes Co., New York. 

beth Burt, published by Ginn & Co., Boston. 

published by Ginn & Co., Boston. 

STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS, by H. M. Carter, published by the Century 

Co., New York. 
STORIES OF HUMBLE FRIENDS, by Katharine Pyle, published by the 

American Book Co., New York. 

STORIES OF MY FOUR FRIENDS, by Jane Andrews, published by Ginn 
& Co., Boston. 

STORIES TO READ OR TELL, by Laura Claire Foucher, published by 
Moffat, Yard & Co, New York. 

STORIES TO TELL TO CHILDREN, by Sara Cone Bryant, published by 
Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
Following her "How to Tell Stories to Children." 

STORY HOUR, by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora A Smith, published 
by Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

STORY IN PRIMARY INSTRUCTION, by S. B. Allison and H. A. Purdue, 
published by A. Flanagan Co, Chicago. 

STORY-LAND, by Effie Seachrist, published by the A. S. Barnes Co., 
New York. 

Upon alternate pages are charming pictures of child life. 
Upon the page opposite each picture is an outline of a composition 
indicating in each case, the place, time, the actors, the intro- 
duction, the incident and the climax of the story, with suggestive 
phrases and questions. The purpose, of course, is to help the 
children to tell or write stories based upon these pictures. 

STORY-TELL LIB, by Mrs. Annie Slosson, published by Charles 
Scribner's Sons, New York. 

Charles M. Stebbins, published by Milton Bradley Co, Spring- 

TALES OF LAUGHTER, by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora A. Smith, 
published by Doubleday, Page & Co, New York. 

TALES OF MOTHER GOOSE, by Charles Perrault, published by D. C. 
Heath & Co, New York, 


TALES OF WONDER, by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora A. Smith, 
published by Doubleday, Page & Co., New York. 

TANGLEWOOD TALES, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 

THE TEACHER'S STORY-TELLER'S BOOK, by Alice O'Grady and Frances 
Throop, published by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 

Gets its name from the fact that the stories, selected from 
many sources, are adapted to the first five grades in school. 
They are arranged in the order of the grades. 

TEN BOYS, by Jane Andrews, published by Ginn & Co., Boston. 

THIRTY MORE FAMOUS STORIES RETOLD, by James Baldwin, published 
by the American Book Co., New York. 

Somewhat more advanced than his "Fifty Famous Stories 
THREE FAIRY TALES, by Jean Ingelow, published by D. C. Heath 

& Co., New York. 

THREE MINUTE STORIES, by Laura E. Richards, published by the 
Page Co., Boston. 

There are not many good books containing stories for little 
children under school age. This is a good one; in fact, it is one 
of the best. 

TOLD BY THE CAMP FIRE, by F. H. Cheley, published by the Asso- 
ciation Press, New York. 

Is a collection of short stories which have been told to older 
boys in camp. Each one is the story of some adventure in camp 

TRUE BIRD STORIES, by Mrs. Harriet Miller, published by Hough- 
ton, Mifflin Co., Boston. 
TRUE FAIRY TALES, by M. E. Bakewell, published by the American 

Book Co., New York. 
TRUE TALES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS, by D. Jordan, published by D. C. 

Heath & Co., New York. 
UNCLE REMUS : His SONGS AND SAYINGS, by Joel Chandler Harris, 

published by D. Appleton & Co., New York. 

and others, published by D. C. Heath & Co., New York. 
WIGWAM EVENINGS, by Charles A. Eastman, published by Little, 
Brown & Co., Boston. 

Sioux Indian tales. 

WINGS AND STINGS, by Mrs. Agnes McClelland Daulton, published 
by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. 


WONDER BOOK, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, published by Houghton, 
Mifflin Co., Boston. 

The Greek myths told in beautiful language but needing some 
adaptation in giving to children. 

published by D. C. Heath & Co., New York. 

A delightful collection of fairy stories written by a woman 
born blind. 


Accessories for the Bottle Dolls, 


Acting Stories, 81 
Action in Story-telling, 31 
Addition, 126 
Adler, Felix, 22, 119, 122, 128, 


Admiration, 12 
Adolescence and Pictures, 62 
"Age of Innocence, The," 65 
Alden, Raymond M., 224 
Allegories, 23, 104 
Allegory of the Enchanted Land, 

The, 187 

Amateur Theatricals, 82 
Arrangement of the Story, The, 


Art in Story-telling, 165 
Attention in Story-telling, 30, 39, 


Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin, 25, 30, 
59, 62, 81, 163 

Barnes, Earl, 130 

Beall, Meta Eloise, 42 

Bed-time Stories, 150 

Beginning, The, 29, 190 

Bible and Present Day Life, 
The, 130 

Bible as a Story-book, The, 122 

Bible Stories, 109, 122, 278 

Bible Story Books, 280 

Bible Story Play, 224 

Biographical Stories, 99 

Biography, 19, 111 

Books and Stories, 139 

Books Containing Picture De- 
scriptions, 253 

Books of Dramatics, 257 
Bottle Characters, The, 179 
Bottle People, The, 175 
Bottle Story Program, A, 291 
Bottles, The Advantage of, 176 
Bourne, Randolph S., 141 
"Boy and Rabbit, The," 64 
Boys' Tastes, 24, 160 
Braucher, Howard S., 83 
"Brew, The," 208 
Bryant, Sara Cone, 12, 36, 41 
Burr, H. M., 74 
Buttercup, 206 

Cabot, Ella Lyman, 14 
Candor, 123 

Chalk and Story-telling, 46 
Character-building Stories, 7, 92, 


Charades, 86 
Chart of the Bottle Characters, 

A, 204 
Chart of the Enchanted Land, A, 


Child, Responsiveness of the, 4 
Children's Dramatics, 86 
Child's Part, The, 48 
Clearness, 36 
Climax, The, 35, 162 
"Closing Door, The," 106 
Coe, George A., 13, 112 
Color, 35 

Comfort of Stories, The, 143 
Companionship of Stories, The, 


Conover, Mary, 154 
Contentment of Stories, The, 143 
Continued Stories, 50, 76 




Continued Stories as Drama, 51 
Costumes and Story-telling, 44 
Cowles, Julia Darrow, 24, 40, 44, 

82, 125 

Criticism in Story-telling, 169 
Cycle of Stories, A, 51, 163 

De Groot, E. B., 155 

Details, 41 

Devices for Story-telling, 39 

Direct Discourse, 40 

Directness in Story-telling, 36 

Discipline through Stories, 149 

Drama and the Story, The, 30, 


Dramatic Stories, 32 
Dramatizing Stories, 81 
Drawing and Story-telling, 46 

Education of the Child, The, 136 

Education of the Heart, The, 199 

Educational Value of Stories, 
The, 4 

Emotional Influence of Story- 
telling, The, 6 

Enchanted Land, The, 180, 184, 

Ending, The, 36 

English and Stories, 138 

Epic Stories, 18 

Ethical Stories, 14 

Experience Defined by Story 
Tastes, 25 

Experiences in Story-telling, 30 

Expression through Stories, 138 

Expression through Story-tell- 
ing, 15 

Fables, 22, 87 

Fairy Queen, The, 206 

Fairy Stories, 18 21 

Fairy Tales, 92 

"Fairy Who Came to Our 

House, The," 92 
Faris, John T., 77 

Feeling, 44 

Feeling Training by Stories, 6 
Fisher, Dorothy Canfield, 147 
"Fox and the Farmer, The," 221 
"Frank Enters the Enchanted 

Land," 194 
Friendship, 14 
Funny Stories, 27 

"Garlands," 86 

General List of Story-books, A, 


Gesell, Arnold L, 82, 138, 140 
Gestures, 43 
Getting Attention, 39 
Girls' Tastes, 24, 161 
Gould, Frederick J., 13 
Grading Bible Stories, 124 
Grading Stories, 87, 160 
Grahame, Kenneth, 146 

Handicraft and Story-telling, 

148, 177 

Hall, G. Stanley, 58, 199 
Hero Tales, 23 
Hervey, William I, 37 
Hewins, Caroline M., 158, 164, 


History, 19 

History and Stories, 140 
Hofer, Mari, 75 
Home and Stories, The, 143 
Home Discipline and Stories, 149 
Home Handicraft and Stories, 


Home Pictures, 55 
Home Reading and Stories, 148 
Hornaday, William T., 12 
Houghton, Louise Seymour, 20, 

120 124, 132 

Hov to Tell Stories, 29 
Kuril, Estelle M., 55 

Imagination and Story-telling, 



Imagination in Stories, 145 

Imagination Trained by Stories, 

Imaginative Stories, 87 

Importance of Bible Stories, 
The, 122 

Interest, 136 

Interest in Stories, 17, 30 

Introducing the Bottle Doll Peo- 
ple, 191 

James, William, 135 
Jesus in Pictures, 68 
Jesus, Parables of, 109 
"Jimmy and the Sharper," 


Jordan, David Starr, 147 
Joy of the Child, 143 
Joy through Story-telling, 5 

Keyes, Angela M., 29, 43, 48 
Kinds of Stories, 17 
Kingdom of Law, The, 180 
Kingdom of Love, The, 179 
"Knight with the Ill-fitting Coat, 

The," 99 
Knowledge of Good through 

Stories, A, 9 

Leamy, Edmund, 31, 144, 150 
Lee, Gerald Stanley, 136, 138 
Legends, 99 
Leisure, 45 
Lena, 207 

Librarians as Story-tellers, 152 
Library Story-hour, The, 152 
Limitations of Story - telling, 

The, 13 

Lincoln Stories, One of, 117 
Lindsay, Maud, 105 
List of Bible Stories, 278 
List of Bible Story-Books, 280 
List of Books Containing Pic- 
ture Descriptions, 253 

List of Books on Dramatics, 258 

List of Books on Story-telling, 

List of Stories Children Like, 

List of Story-books Connected 
with School Subjects, 284 

Listening, 48 

Lists o f Character-building 
Stories, 264 

Lists of Stories and Playthings, 

Lists of Story-pictures, 71 

Lists of Story-plays for Chil- 
dren, 257 

Literature and Stories, 139 

"Little Blue Gown and the But- 
terfly," 95 

Lonesome Land, The, 202 

Lovely Lady, The, 210 

Lowe, Mary A., 85, 159, 160, 175, 
179, 187 

Lyman, Edna, 32, 47, 51, 162 

MacManus, Seumas, 5, 15 

"Magic Shirt, The," 104 

Making the Bottle Dolls, 226 

Manner of Bible Story-telling, 

Mannerisms, 45 

Mary Lowe's Philosophy, 199 

Mason, Frank S., 157 

Memorizing, 47 

Memory Training through Sto- 
ries, 5 

Method of Story-telling through 
Pictures, The, 61 

Methods of Bible Story-telling, 

Methods of Story-telling, 36 

Mimic World, The, 176, 201 

Mitchell, Donald G., 27 

"Monday," 88 

Moore, Howard, 8 

Moral Education, 9 



Moral Education through Pic- 
tures, 68 

Moral Education through Sto- 
ries, 12, 141 

Moral Reflection, 17 

Moral Results from Bottle Doll 
Story-telling, The, 243 

Moral Stories, Suggestions for 
Telling, 118 

Moral Value, The, 141 

Moral Value of Stories, The, 12 

Moses, The Story of, 130 

Mother and Story-telling, The, 

Mother Goose, 21 

Moulton, Richard G., 125 

Moving the Bottle People, 186, 

Murray, Charles, 4 

Myths, 18, 99 

Naturalness of Home Story-tell- 
ing, The, 149 

Nature Interpreted by Stories, 5 
Nature Stories, 22 
Nature Study and Stories, 140 
Nixon, Lillian Edith, 84 
Norton, Charles E., 10 

Olcott, Frances J., 24 
Omega Boys' Club, The, 6 
One's Self and the Story, 43 
Order, 29 

Order, Changing the, 128 
Order of Bible Stories, 128 
Organized Story-telling, 152 
Originativeness through Story- 
telling, 233 

Pantomimes, 86 
Parables, 23, 104 
Partridge, George E., 7, 10, 17, 
18, 37, 138 

Paton, J. Lewis, 13 
Patton, Cora Mel, 86 
Period Stories, 163 
Perry, Stella G., 86 
Personality in Story-telling, 16, 

Physical Value of Stories, The, 


Picture Interests of Children, 57 
Picture Story-telling, 55 
Picture Study, 55 
Picture Tastes of Children, The, 

Pictures for Children, Choice of, 

Pictures in the Home, 55 

Plan for a Story, The, 28 

Play and Stories, 74 

Playground Story-hour, The, 

Plot of the Story, The, 29 

Plutarch's Stories, 115 

Potion, The, 210 

Present Day Life and the Bible, 

Primitive Story, The, 17 

Program in the Story-hour, The, 

Program of Bottle Doll Stories, 
A, 291 

Programs of Stories, 288 

Programs for a Season of Or- 
ganized Story-telling, 288 

Pueblos, Stories Among the, 7 

Puppet Theater, The, 85 

Purposive Stories, 19, 92 

Racial Stories, 163 

Reading and Stories, 136, 148 

Reading versus Telling Stories, 

Realistic Stories, 19, 87, 111 
Reality, 129 

Relation of Stories to Play, 74 
Repetition, 32, 41, 95 



Results of Story-telling, The, 38 
Retelling Stories, 42, 156 
Retouching, 43 
Rhythm in Story-telling, 20 
Rules for Moving the Bottle 
People, 186, 231 

Sad Stories, 27 

Sand Table, The, and Story-tell- 
ing, 186 
Scenery for the Bottle Dolls, 

The, 228 

School and Stories, 135 
School Dramatics, 82 
Schiitze, Mrs. Stephani, 89 
Schiitze, Stephani, 2, 27, 48 
Selection of Bible Stories, 132 
Self and the Story, 43 
Sense Appeal, 21, 33, 88 
Serial Stories, 52 
Sharp, Frank C, 9 
Shedlock, Mary L., 165 
Simplicity, 122 
Sociability and Stories, 141 
Social Unifier, The Story as a, 

Social Value of Stories, The, 12, 

88, 112 
Sound, 33 
Spontaneity, 47 
Sprague, Cara, 157, 159 
St. John, Edward Porter, 40, 42, 


Stanley, Rufus, 6 
Stepping Stone Stories, 158 
Stevenson, Robert Louis, 33, 145 
Stories and Books, 139 
Stories and Discipline, 149 
Stories and Education, 135 
Stories and Expression, 138 
Stories and History, 140 
Stories and Interest, 136 
Stories and Literature, 139 
Stories and Nature Study, 140 
Stories and Play, 74 

Stories and Playthings, 79 
Stories and School, 135 
Stories and Thinking, 138 
Stories and Writing, 140 
Stories at Bed-time, 150 
Stones Children Like, 21, 245 
Stories to Act, 83 
Stories with a Sense Appeal, 21, 

Story as a Revelation of Life, 

The, 3 
Story-books Connected with 

School Subjects, 284 
Story-books, A General List of, 


Story-class, The, 168 
Story-game, The, 75 
Story-hour, The, 152 
Story-hour in Libraries, The, 

Story-hour in the Club for 

Street Boys, The, 157 
Story-hour in the Home, The, 

Story-hour on the Playground, 

The, 155 
Story in Character-building, 

The, 7, 87, 111 
Story of the Bottle Dolls, The, 

179, 212 

Story-playing, 75 
Story-plays for Children, 257 
Story Tastes, 25 
Story-teller, The, 36 
Story-tellers' League, The, 165 
Story-telling as an Art, 48 
Story-telling Devices, 39 
Story-telling Poems, 19 
Story-telling, The Value of, 3 
Story-telling with Chalk, 46 
Street Boys' Clubs, 157 
Subtraction, 128 
Sunday School Teachers as 

Story-tellers, 168 
Sunday Story-telling, 77 



Sympathy and Story-telling, 120 
Sympathy through Story-telling, 

Tact in Story-telling, 114 
Tastes in Story-telling, 25 
Teachers' Club, Story-telling at 

the, 169 
Telling versus Reading Stories, 


Thinking through Stories, 138 
Thomas, Edward, 33 
Truth and the Story, 123 
Tucker, William J., 171 

Uncle Remus, 18 

Value of Bottle Dolls, The, 233 

Value of Picture Stories, 67 
Value of Story-telling, The, 3 
Verbal Expression in Story-tell- 
ing, 138 

Visualizing, 36 
Voskrovsky, Clara, 31 

"Wee Hare and the Red Fire, 
The," 89 

"When Ruth and Frank Visited 
the Enchanted Land," 212 

Will Training through Story- 
telling, 11, 210 

Williamson, Julia, 165 

Witches, The, 203 

Work, 14 

Writing and Stories, 140 

Wyche, Richard T., 23, 36, 165 


Return to desk from which borrowed. 
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 

DEC 24 1947 
JAN 12 1948 




JAN 26-64 -5 

D 21-100m-9,'47(A5702sl6)476 


YB 04784