OUR HOME AND PERSONAL DUTY

YOUNG AMERICAN READERS

OUR HOME
AND PERSONAL DUTY

BY
JANE EAYRE FRYER
AUTHOR OF “THE MARY FRANCES STORY-INSTRUCTION BOOKS”
ILLUSTRATIONS BY EDNA A. COOKE AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS

In these vital tasks of acquiring a broader view of human possibilities the common school must have a large part. I urge that teachers and other school officers increase materially the time and attention devoted to instruction bearing directly on the problems of community and national life.—Woodrow Wilson.

THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY, Publishers
PHILADELPHIA CHICAGO

Copyright 1918 by
The John C. Winston Co.
——————
All Rights Reserved

CIVICS FOR AMERICAN CHILDREN

The notion of what constitutes adequate civics teaching in our schools is rapidly changing. The older idea was based on the theory that children were not citizens—that only adults were citizens. Therefore, civics teaching was usually deferred to the eighth grade, or last year of the grammar school, and then was mostly confined to a memorizing of the federal constitution, with brief comments on each clause. Today we recognize that even young children are citizens, just as much as adults are, and that what is wanted is not training for citizenship but training in citizenship. Moreover, we believe that the “good citizen” is one who is good for something in all the relationships of life.

Habit Formation

Accordingly, a beginning is being made with the early school years, where an indispensable foundation is laid through a training in “morals and manners.” This sounds rather old-fashioned, but nothing has been discovered to take its place. Obedience, cleanliness, orderliness, courtesy, helpfulness, punctuality, truthfulness, care of property, fair play, thoroughness, honesty, respect, courage, self-control, perseverance, thrift, kindness to animals, “safety first”—these are the fundamental civic virtues which make for good citizenship in the years to come. Of course, the object is to establish right habits of thought and action, and this takes time and patience and sympathy; but the end in view justifies the effort. The boy or girl who has become habitually orderly and courteous and helpful and punctual and truthful, and who has acquired a fair degree of courageous self-control, is likely to become a citizen of whom any community may well be proud.

Dramatization

The best results are found to be secured through stories, poems, songs, games, and the dramatization of the stories found in books or told by the teacher. This last is of great value, for it sets up a sort of brief life-experience for the child that leaves a more lasting impression than would the story by itself. Most of the stories told in this reader, emphasizing certain of the civic virtues enumerated above, will be found to lend themselves admirably to simple dramatization by the pupils, the children’s imagination supplying all deficiencies in costumes, scenery, and stage settings. Moreover, the questions following the text will help the teacher to “point the moral” without detracting in the slightest degree from the interest of the story.

Community Servants

The basis for good citizenship having been laid through habit-formation in the civic virtues, the next step is for the children to learn how these virtues are being embodied in the people round about them who are serving them and their families. The baker, the milkman, the grocer, the dressmaker, the shoemaker, the carpenter, the plumber, the painter, the physician, the druggist, the nurse—these are the community servants who come closest to the life-experience of the children.

How dependent each member of a community—especially an urban community—is on all the rest, and how important it is that each shall contribute what he can to the community’s welfare, are illustrated by the stories of the Duwell family. Here a typical though somewhat ideal American family is shown in its everyday relations, as a constant recipient of the services rendered by those community agents who supply the fundamental need of food, clothing, shelter, and medical attendance. The children in the class will learn, with the Duwell children, both the actual services that are rendered and the family’s complete dependence on those services. Moreover, they will acquire the splendid working ideals of interdependence and coöperation. And, finally, they will discover that the adult citizens who are rendering them these services are embodying the very civic virtues in which they themselves have been so carefully trained.

Public Servants

The pupils are now ready to follow the services rendered by public servants such as the policeman, the fireman, the street cleaner, the ashes and garbage collector, the mail carrier; and by those who furnish water, gas, electricity, the telephone, the trolley, etc.; and these are presented in civics readers that follow this one. The civic virtues previously considered are again found exemplified to a marked degree; and the threefold idea of dependence, interdependence, and coöperation through community agencies finds ample illustration.

Training for Citizenship

But it is not enough for the pupils to stop with finding out what the community is doing for them. The essential thing in this citizenship-training is for the young citizens to find out what they can do to help things along. Civic activities are suggested both in the stories, poems, etc., in these books, and in the suggestive questions at the close of each chapter.

Like all texts or other helps in education, these civics readers cannot teach themselves or take the place of a live teacher. But it is believed that they can be of great assistance to sympathetic, civically minded instructors of youth who feel that the training of our children in the ideals and practices of good citizenship is the most imperative duty and at the same time the highest privilege that can come to any teacher.

J. Lynn Barnard.

Philadelphia School of Pedagogy.
April 1, 1918.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks are due to Doctor J. Lynn Barnard of the Philadelphia School of Pedagogy, for valuable suggestions and helpful criticism in the making of this reader; also to Miss Isabel Jean Galbraith, a demonstration teacher of the Philadelphia School of Pedagogy, for assistance in preparing the questions on the lessons.

For kind permission to use stories and other material, thanks are due to the following: The Ohio Humane Society for “Little Lost Pup,” by Arthur Guiterman; Mrs. Huntington Smith, President Animal Rescue League of Boston, for “The Grocer’s Horse,” and to her publishers, Ginn and Company; Mary Craige Yarrow for “Poor Little Jocko”; Houghton Mifflin Company for “Baking the Johnny-cake”; The American Humane Education Society for selection by George T. Angell; and to the Red Cross Magazine for several photographs.

A bird’s-eye view of the plan of the young american readers

It may be said that a child’s life and experience move forward in ever widening circles, beginning with the closest intimate home relations, and broadening out into knowledge of community, of city, and finally of national life.

A glance at the above diagram will show the working plan of the Young American Readers. This plan follows the natural growth and development of the child’s mind, and aims by teaching the civic virtues and simplest community relations to lay the foundations of good citizenship. See Outline of Work on page 231.

CONTENTS

PART I
CIVIC VIRTUES

Stories Teaching Thoroughness, Honesty,
Respect, Patriotism, Kindness to
Animals

These stories also teach, incidentally, the co-ordinate virtues of obedience, cleanliness, orderliness, courtesy, helpfulness, punctuality, truthfulness, care of property, and fair play.

THE LITTLE PRAIRIE DOGS AND
OLD MR. WOLF

I.

Once upon a time, three fat little prairie dogs lived together in a nice deep burrow, where they were quite safe and warm and snug.

These little prairie dogs had very queer names. One was Jump, another was Bump, and another was Thump.

Well, they lived very happily together until one day Jump said, “I believe I would rather live up on top of the ground than in this burrow.”

“I believe I would, too,” said Bump.

“I believe I would!” said Thump. “I’ll tell you what we can do! Let us each build a house!”

“Let us!” cried Jump and Bump, and away they all scampered up out of the burrow.

Each one ran in a different direction to hunt for something to use in building a house.

Jump gathered some straws.

“These will do,” he thought. “I shall not bother to look for anything else. Besides, they are very light and easy to carry.”

So Jump built a little straw house.

Bump gathered some sticks.

“These will make a nice house. They are quite good enough,” he said.

So Bump built a little stick house.

Thump saw the straw and the sticks, but thought he might find something better.

Pretty soon he came to a pile of stones.

“My, what a fine strong house they would make!” he thought. “They are heavy to move, but I will try to use them.”

So he carried and carried and worked and worked, but finally he had a stone house.

II.

The next morning when old Mr. Prairie Wolf awoke and stretched himself, he saw the three little houses in the distance.

“What can they be?” wondered old Mr. Wolf. “Maybe I can get breakfast over there.” So he started toward them.

The first house he came to was the straw one.

He peeped in the window and saw little Jump.

He knocked on the door. “Mr. Jump, let me come in,” said he.

“Oh, no, by my bark—bark—bark! you cannot come in,” barked little Jump, pushing with all his might against the door with his little paws.

“Then I’ll blow your house over with one big breath!” growled old Mr. Prairie Wolf.

So he blew one mighty breath, and blew the house over, and ate up poor little Jump.

On his way home, old Mr. Wolf stopped to look in the window of the little stick house. He saw little Bump.

“My, what a good breakfast I shall have to-morrow!” he thought to himself.

The next morning he came early and knocked on the door of the little stick house.

“Mr. Bump, Mr. Bump,” said he, “let me come in.”

“Oh, no, by my bark—bark—bark! you cannot come in,” barked little Bump, standing on his hind legs with his back braced against the door.

“Then I’ll throw your house over with one blow of my paw,” growled old Mr. Prairie Wolf.

And he did, and ate up poor little Bump.

III.

On his way home, he stopped to look in the window of the little stone house.

Thump sat by the fireplace toasting his feet.

“My, my!” chuckled old Mr. Wolf, smacking his lips, “he is the fattest one of all. What a fine breakfast I shall have to-morrow!”

The next morning he came earlier than ever, and knocked on the door of the little stone house.

“Mr. Thump, let me come in,” said he.

“All right,” called little Thump, “when my feet get warm.”

So old Mr. Prairie Wolf sat down to wait.

By and by, old Mr. Wolf knocked on the door again. “Aren’t your feet warm yet, Mr. Thump?” he growled.

“Only one,” called Thump; “you will have to wait until the other one is warm.”

So old Mr. Wolf sat down to wait.

After a few minutes had passed, he knocked on the door again.

“Isn’t your other foot warm yet, Mr. Thump?” he growled.

“Yes,” called Thump, “but the first one is cold now.”

“See here, Mr. Thump,” growled old Mr. Wolf, “do you intend to keep me waiting all day while you warm first one foot and then the other? I am tired of such foolishness. I want my breakfast. Open the door, or I’ll knock your house over!”

“Oh, all right,” barked little Thump, “and while you are doing it, I shall eat my breakfast.”

That made old Mr. Prairie Wolf very angry, and he kicked at the little stone house with all his might; but little Thump knew he could not move a stone.

After a long while the noise stopped, and little Thump peeped out of the window. He saw old Mr. Wolf limping painfully off; and that was the way he always remembered him, for he never never saw him again.

This story, which is built on the framework of the old classic, “The Three Pigs,” lends itself readily to dramatization. Let the four characters take their parts as they remember the story. By no means have them memorize the words.

QUESTIONS

Which little prairie dog worked hardest to build his house?

The others had an easy time, didn’t they?

But which one was happiest in the end? Why?

DON’T GIVE UP

If you’ve tried and have not won,

Never stop for crying;

All that’s great and good is done

Just by patient trying.

Though young birds, in flying, fall,

Still their wings grow stronger;

And the next time they can keep

Up a little longer.

If by easy work you beat,

Who the more will prize you?

Gaining victory from defeat,

That’s the test that tries you!

—Phœbe Cary.

THE BRIDGE OF THE SHALLOW PIER

I.

Once upon a time, a mother loved her little boy so well that she made the mistake of offending one of his good fairies. This was the fairy of carefulness.

The mother made the mistake of trying to do everything for her little son. She even put his toys away when he was tired of playing.

After the boy grew older and went to school, she did many of his lessons for him. His daily marks in arithmetic were good, for much of his work was done by his mother at home. Of course his teacher did not know this for the boy copied his mother’s work.

Now, just as you would expect, this made the boy very careless. But he was really a bright boy, and even though he did not do well, he managed to pass his examinations.

“If you would only be more careful,” his teachers would say, “you would have the highest marks.”

When his mother saw his reports, she would say: “Oh, isn’t this too bad, son; I know you will have better marks next time.”

So, when the boy became a man he did everything in the same careless manner, forgetting that other people would not excuse him as his mother had done.

Now the good fairy of carefulness was very much offended at the way in which the mother spoiled her little son. So she said to herself, “I must, I must teach that boy a lesson!”

II.

When he was little, this boy was very fond of playing at building bridges. After he was grown up, he became a builder of real bridges.

At first, he built only small bridges over the brooks and little streams, but one day an order was given him to build an important bridge over a large river.

Just as you might guess, this pleased the man very much, and he was glad to begin the work at once.

Soon his men were busy, putting in the piers for the new bridge, and he was hurrying them as fast as he could, in order to get the bridge built on time.

Every day he sat in a rowboat calling to his men. They were about to begin work on the middle pier when the foreman of the workers came to him.

“Mr. Builder,” he said, “I think we shall have to wait for more material if we go down to the right depth for this pier.”

“Nonsense, man,” said the builder, “we have no time to wait. There is a pretty good bottom under that place. Don’t go so deep. Get along with the material you have.”

“But, sir,—” began the man.

“Do as I tell you,” ordered the builder.

“All right, sir,” replied the foreman; “you may order that done, but one of the other men will have to do the job.”

“Very well,” was the angry reply of the builder, “Jim Nevermind will take your place.”

The foreman slowly drew on his jacket. “Somebody will pay for such carelessness,” he muttered. “I hope it will not be—” but the rest of the sentence was drowned by the orders of the new foreman.

III.

In a very short time the bridge was finished and the inspector came to look it over.

“It looks all right,” he said. “Are you sure the piers are sound? I haven’t time to examine them, but I know that a man who has built as many bridges as you, would make them right.”

“I am glad you are pleased, sir,” replied the builder.

“You have certainly made record time,” continued the inspector, “and I shall carry back a good report.”

“Thank you very much,” said the builder; but his pleasure was somewhat spoiled because of the shallow pier.

“It is all nonsense,” he thought, “to be so particular; besides, the current in that river is so slow that there is no danger.” And it seemed true, for three years later, the bridge appeared to be as firm and strong as when it was first built.

IV.

But one day in the early part of the fourth year there came a great flood. The slow-moving current became a raging torrent, sweeping everything in its way and blocking large timbers and trees against the bridge.

It so happened that a party of young people were riding along in a big hay wagon drawn by four beautiful bay horses. When they came to the bridge the driver stopped.

“Shall we cross?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” the children shouted, “it will be fun.”

“It looks safe enough,” said one of the two grown people who were with them. So with a “Gee-up, boys,” to the horses, the driver started across the bridge.

Just—ah, you know, don’t you? Just as they reached the middle pier, there came a creak and a rumble, a moment’s swaying, and a crash. The bridge had caved in, and the hay wagon, full of terror-stricken children, together with the frightened horses, was swept into the water.

“Don’t jump!” shouted the driver to the children, trying to guide the swimming horses shoreward; but that was impossible.

For a full minute, which seemed like hours, they were swept onward. Then,—maybe the good fairy of carefulness had planned it—they rested on a little island the top of which was just covered with water.

The white-faced driver counted the children, “All here! Thank God!” he said.

The little folks cried and hugged each other, and called aloud for their mothers and fathers.

They had to stay there all night, cold and frightened and hungry. That was dreadful enough, but it was nothing compared with the fear that the water might rise higher still.

But slowly and steadily it went down, and by early morning all of the little island was uncovered. All the party were then quickly rescued with boats.

V.

The builder started, as the heading in the evening paper caught his eye—“Terrible Bridge Accident—Who is to Blame?”

“Why, why, it’s the bridge of the shallow pier!” he exclaimed. “People will find out that I am the one to blame!”

“Shall I run away?” he wondered, and sat for hours with his head in his hands.

Suddenly he threw back his shoulders and said aloud, “No, I will not run away. I will stay and do what I can to make the bridge right and never neglect my duty again!”

Do you wonder that the good fairy of carefulness, and thoroughness, smiled and whispered, “I wish he could have learned his lesson more easily!”

MEMORY GEM

If a task is once begun

Never leave it till it’s done;

Be the labor great or small

Do it well, or not at all.

—Phœbe Cary.

QUESTIONS

The careless little boy had a very easy time both at home and at school, didn’t he?

But, what kind of man did he grow to be?

It did not seem as if just one shallow pier would matter, did it?

But if he had been honest and thorough in his work when he was little, do you think he would have been content to be paid for such a carelessly built bridge?

How do you suppose he felt when he heard about the accident?

Can you remember some time when you felt like being careless, but decided to do your very best?

THE THOUGHTFUL BOY

“Little by little,” said a thoughtful boy,

“Moment by moment I’ll well employ;

Learning a little every day,

Not spending all my time in play;

And still this rule in my mind shall dwell,

‘Whatever I do, I’ll do it well’.”

Little by little, I’ll learn to know

The treasured wisdom of long ago,

And one of these days perhaps we’ll see

The world made better for having me.”

And do you not think that this simple plan

Made him a wise and a useful man?

—Selected.

GRANDFATHER’S STORY

I.

Charles was fastening the lid on a box of Christmas presents which his little brothers were going to send to their cousins.

“If I were you, I’d put another nail on each side,” said grandfather.

“Oh, I think these will hold,” Charles replied, giving the box a little shake. “There are three, on each side.”

“Four would be better,” grandfather said.

“Oh, grandpa, don’t you think three will do?” asked the boy. “I—I haven’t any more.”

“So that is the trouble,” said the old gentleman, laughing. “Very well, here is some money. When you get back from the store I will tell you how the history of a whole great nation was changed for want of a few horseshoe nails!”

“A few horseshoe nails!” exclaimed Charles. “Is it true, grandpa?”

“It is true,” answered grandfather. “Now hurry up if you want to hear how it came about.”

“Oh, thank you!” Charles cried, as he started out of the door.

He was so delighted with the promise of one of grandfather’s stories that he was back in less time than if he had gone for candy!

“Well done!” grandfather greeted him. “Now sit down, and while you get your breath, I will tell you the story.

II.

“Many, many years ago, when King Richard was ruler of England, he owned a beautiful horse which he rode whenever he went into battle.

“One day word came that Henry, the Earl of Richmond, was on his way to attack the king’s men.

“King Richard ordered his favorite horse brought to him, and turned to talk to the officers of his army.

“Now the groom who had charge of the king’s horses suddenly noticed that this horse needed shoeing.

“So he hurried to the nearest smithy.

“‘Shoe this horse quickly,’ he said to the blacksmith. ‘His Majesty has called for him. The enemy is near!’

“The blacksmith worked with all his might, and soon had four horseshoes ready.

“When he had nailed on two shoes, he found he had not nails enough for the other two. Suddenly the bugles sounded.

“‘Hurry!’ cried the groom. ‘The soldiers are gathering!’

“‘Shall I make more nails?’ asked the blacksmith.

“‘How many have you?’ asked the groom.

“‘I have only eight,’ replied the smith. ‘It would not take very long to hammer out eight more.’

“‘You will have to make eight do,’ said the groom.

“‘If you could only wait a little while,’ urged the smith, working away.

“‘I suppose I might,—but it would be a risk! Won’t four nails hold a horseshoe?’

“‘Well, that depends on how hard the horse is ridden,’ answered the blacksmith, driving the last of the eight nails in place.

“The horse reached the king in good time, for it took quite a long while for the officers to make their plans.

III.

“Soon King Richard was riding among his men, cheering them on in the battle.

“‘No other horse could carry a man as surely and swiftly,’ whispered the king, patting the horse’s neck.

“He had not noticed that the horse had lost one shoe. Onward he urged him over a rocky hill. Another shoe flew off.

“Suddenly the horse stumbled and fell, and the king was thrown to the ground.

“Before he could rise, the horse, although lamed, had struggled to his feet and galloped away, dreadfully frightened.

“Then the king shouted, ‘A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!’

“But there was no horse for him. When his men had seen him thrown, they had all turned and fled.

“And so the battle was lost, and King Richard was killed, and the history of the great nation of England was changed, for Henry, Earl of Richmond, became king.”

“And all for the want of a few horseshoe nails!”, finished Charles, as grandfather stopped speaking. “I will put two more nails into each side of the box lid, grandpa!”

“While you are doing that, I will teach you a few lines that I learned when I was a boy,” said grandfather. “Try to remember them.”

“For want of a nail the shoe was lost;

For want of a shoe the horse was lost;

For want of a horse the rider was lost;

For want of a rider the battle was lost;

For loss of a battle a kingdom was lost;—

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”

QUESTIONS

How might the battle have ended if the groom had waited until the blacksmith had put the right number of nails in the horse’s shoes?

Which do you think King Richard would rather have lost—a little time or his kingdom?

How do you suppose the groom and the blacksmith felt when they learned the result of the battle?

Do you know any careless people?

What do you think of them?

Can you remember ever doing something carelessly in order to finish more quickly?

Tell about it.

If you’re told to do a thing,

And mean to do it really;

Never let it be by halves;

Do it fully, freely!

—Phœbe Cary.

He liveth long who liveth well;

All else in life is thrown away;

He liveth longest who can tell

Of true things truly done each day.

What is worth doing at all is worth doing well.

Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise.

HONEST ABE

As a boy, Abraham Lincoln was known as “Honest Abe.” Like other boys he sometimes did wrong, but never did he try to hide his wrongdoing. He was always ready to own up and tell the truth. So his neighbors called him “Honest Abe.”

In this way he was like young George Washington. The American people are fond of that kind of boy. That is one of the reasons why Lincoln and Washington were each twice elected President of the United States.

I. The Broken Buck-horn