WORLD STORIES RETOLD

GLAD COMRADESHIP WITH THE GLADNESS OF A CHILD

WORLD STORIES
RETOLD
FOR
MODERN BOYS AND GIRLS

ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN FIVE-MINUTE CLASSIC STORIES FOR
RETELLING IN HOME, SUNDAY-SCHOOL, CHILDREN’S SERVICES, PUBLIC
SCHOOL GRADES, AND “THE STORY-HOUR” IN PUBLIC LIBRARIES

With Practical Suggestions for Telling

BY
WILLIAM JAMES SLY, PH. D.
Director of Sunday-School and Young People’s Work, and Teacher
of Sunday-School Pedagogy in Colorado Woman’s College

PHILADELPHIA
THE GRIFFITH & ROWLAND PRESS
BOSTONST. LOUIS
CHICAGOTORONTO, CAN.

Copyright 1914 by
A. J. ROWLAND, Secretary
Published December, 1914

TO
Ellsworth
AND
THE HOSTS OF BOYS AND GIRLS SCATTERED
EVERYWHERE TO WHOM I HAVE TOLD
MANY OF THESE STORIES AND FROM
WHOM I HAVE RECEIVED WARM
APPRECIATION AND LOVE

PREFACE

This book is intended chiefly for the home. It is an aid to parents in introducing their children to some of the best stories in the world. It will be of obvious value also to Sunday-school teachers, ministers who preach to children, public-school teachers, kindergartners, librarians, and to all who perceive that the story method is the golden method of teaching.

“Where can I find suitable stories to tell?” is a frequent question asked by lovers of children who take seriously their cry of soul-hunger, “Tell me a story!” Oral story-telling within recent years has had a remarkable revival, and a response to both the child’s and the parent’s plea has been made in a number of charming collections of children’s stories and manuals on the art of story-telling. But it is well known that books of stories with material in a form readily adapted for telling are very few. Fewer still have attempted to gather into one volume those old favorites which should be the heritage of each succeeding generation of children. True, there are collections in many volumes, such as “The Children’s Hour,” in ten volumes; the “Junior Classics,” in ten volumes; and the series, “What Every Child Should Know,” in twenty volumes; but these, admirable in many respects, are bulky, expensive, and forbidden to all except the favored children of the rich. Mothers frequently ask for something condensed, comprehensive, and simple. It is to meet such a need, often expressed to him, that the author has gathered, during a number of years of experience in moral and religious education, these World Stories for telling to modern boys and girls.

Almost all of the many stories in this book he has himself told at various times before differing audiences of children, young people, and adults—audiences varying from one or two open-eyed listeners in the home, or the little group in the country Sunday-school or wayside schoolhouse, to the large classes and assemblies in high schools, colleges, city libraries, Sunday-schools, churches, and conventions. In many cases children and young people have retold these stories in almost the exact language here given.

The principle on which these stories have been adapted and rewritten is largely that of condensation. There is undoubtedly a certain cultural atmosphere created in the very language and spirit of these fine old tales, but the descriptive adornments often lead to a length that is unattractive to the busy mother or teacher, as well as trying to the strength of mind and memory of the child. Given the real facts, illustrating the moral principle desired to be imparted, the story-teller may elaborate as much as imagination, interest, and time permit. After such an early introduction in childhood to these stories that for unnumbered generations have furnished food to mind, memory, heart, and will, the boy and girl will experience a keener joy in after years when the fuller versions are read in the original or in larger books.

In the preparation of these pages, the author has been favored with the generous counsel, aid, and encouragement of specialists in child psychology, pedagogy, and story-telling, among whom mention must be made especially of Dr. Richard Morse Hodge, of Columbia University, one of whose articles printed in “Religious Education” suggested this work; Dr. Henry F. Cope, Secretary of the Religious Education Association; John L. Alexander, Secondary Division Superintendent of the International Sunday School Association; and my friend, Dr. Irving E. Miller, of Rochester University, and author of “The Psychology of Thinking.” To these, as well as to a host of teachers and principals of public schools, pastors and superintendents in churches, and mothers and fathers in homes, who so graciously permitted experimentation with these stories, gratitude is sincerely expressed.

William J. Sly.

University Park, Denver, Colo.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Part I
The Art of Story-Telling

I
VALUE OF STORIES

Stories are the language of childhood. They are mirrors of nature in which the child beholds his natural face “as in a glass.” They appeal to every instinct of child nature. They feed every interest of the soul. They strike a responsive chord in every awakening faculty of the unfolding life. Boys and girls love stories as they love no other form of address. Stories afford amusement and entertainment as play does, for they are the mind’s play, as well as its natural soul-food.

Story-telling is as old as human speech. It was enjoyed by the primitive children of all races and lands, as it is enjoyed by the boys and girls of to-day. There is no better way to convey our ideas, to widen knowledge, experience, and sympathy, or to impress moral truth. Stories with plenty of life and action in them leave nothing to explain. Conduct pictured in them needs no application or obtrusive moral. Good stories, well adapted and well told, not only furnish amusement and hold attention as no other form of speech does, but possess positive value in many other directions. They feed, exercise, and cultivate the imagination; appeal to the emotions; arouse the will; strengthen the power of concentration; develop the sense of beauty; stimulate the idealizing instinct; help to shape thought and language; widen the child’s sympathies and fellowships; broaden his world interests; prepare for future understanding of literary classics, especially poetry; implant ideas of right and wrong; and, in short, make the most lasting impressions of an ethical, esthetic, educational, and cultural nature.

The story method is the golden method of instruction. No method of teaching is so popular or powerful. The story-teller was the first teacher of primitive children in Egypt, Assyria, India, China, and Japan. The stories of the wandering bards, like Homer, in ancient Greece, were the first education of the Greeks. Stories of national heroes, such as we find in Plutarch’s Lives, delighted the Roman boy just as the stories of Joseph and Samuel and David and Daniel charmed and thrilled to patriotism the Jewish boy. During the Middle Ages the monks, troubadours, skalds, jongleurs, wandering bards, and minstrels never lacked an audience when they told or sang their tales of mystery, heroism, or love. Story-telling has been a valuable instrument for philosophers, poets, prophets, statesmen, and great leaders of men in all ages. It was the method of Jesus, the greatest of all teachers. “Without a parable spake he not unto them.” Plato regarded stories for children as so important that he would have none told that had not been approved by the public censor. Froebel, the father of the kindergarten, said: “Story-telling refreshes the mind as a bath refreshes the body; it gives exercise to the intellect and its powers, and tests the judgment and the feelings.” Charles Lamb, Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns, Coleridge, Longfellow, Dickens, Emerson, Lowell, Milton, Hawthorne, Stanley, Hugh Miller, Ruskin, and Wagner tell of the influence of stories, and especially fairy stories, upon them before the age of sixteen, and many before they were twelve. When Henry Ward Beecher arose in Manchester, England, to make an address, during the Civil War, pleading the cause of the Union before a bitterly hostile assembly, he looked out upon a howling mob. He smiled, he waved his hand, he waited in vain. At last he shouted, “Let me tell you a story!” and at once the tumult ceased. He told them a short, pithy story in half a dozen sentences, won their attention, and proceeded with his great plea for human rights. It has been said that Beecher, by this speech, stemmed the tide of popular feeling against the Union and so prevented recognition of the Confederacy by the British Government.

All the world loves a good story. But give the story a place in the heart and mind of childhood early enough, and you have laid the foundation-stone for an enduring character. And beyond all this, as Dr. G. Stanley Hall says, “To hear stories from the great story-books of the world is one of the inalienable rights of childhood.”

STORIES IN THE HOME

Elementary teachers, junior librarians, and competent Sunday-school teachers are now fully expected to meet the story-hunger of childhood by good stories. But educated mothers also are coming to realize that these workers for their children cannot be expected to do all the story-telling. Parents, and especially mothers, should talk with their children about the stories they have heard, and supplement these with the cultural classics, such world stories as are found in this collection, or with those from other sources.

“The mother’s heart is the child’s best schoolroom.” The home is the first and holiest school. The home is the institution which is more important and fundamental than all others. Teachers, ministers, and other educators can cooperate with, but can never be substitutes for, educated, cultured parents, who, by the great law of family life, necessarily exert the most direct influence upon the life of the child, and especially during its formative and most impressionable years. An educator of wide reputation says: “If, at the end of the sixth year, the child has not acquired self-control and a fair ability to be an agreeable member of society, it is the fault of the home. A failure to arrive at such a happy state of affairs may be due to economic or social conditions back of the home, but normally this responsibility for the care and training of children lies with the parents.”

Because so few mothers feel competent to cooperate in this creative art of story-telling, such a course should manifestly become an integral part of the education of every young woman of culture. This is, in part, being provided, and soon must universally find a place in the curricula of high schools, normal colleges, State universities, and denominational institutions of learning. Many who are now mothers have had no such training. All the greater reason, therefore, that the mother who would be competent should avail herself of such books as “Stories and Story-Telling,” by E. P. St. John; “How to Tell Stories to Children,” by Sara Cone Bryant; “Stories and Story-Telling,” by Angela M. Keyes; “The Children’s Reading,” by Frances J. Olcott; “Some Great Stories and How to Tell Them,” by Richard T. Wyche; or “The Moral Instruction of Children,” by Felix Adler. Any one of these books, or the present volume alone, will assist any mother to improve her opportunity of telling stories to her own children or to develop her own natural gift into a conscious art, so that ability may fit opportunity more perfectly.

It is well for the mother to have a definite plan for children’s story-telling. Some mothers I know have set aside half an hour in the morning after breakfast, when the husband has gone to the office and her older children have gone to school, as the best time for what they call “the morning stories of the Bible” (early chapters of Genesis) for those who are in the early morn of life. Less fortunate mothers have set aside Sunday afternoons. Others set aside a half-hour after supper on two or three evenings each week, or even one evening, if that is all that can be spared. Still others devote, faithfully, one-half hour to their children’s story-telling before the children go to bed, or even after they are in bed, and the children love that half-hour as “the best of all the day.”

THE FATHER AS STORY-TELLER

The instinct of story-telling is, undoubtedly, more natural with the mother, the children more necessarily turning to her with their cry for soul-food, “Tell me a story!” But many a father would greatly enrich his own life and his boy’s childhood memory by less absorption in the evening paper, the monthly magazine, or the club in order to attend to this soul-hunger of his boy’s mind. Longfellow, the great lover of children, had the father as the story-teller in mind, when he pictured “The Children’s Hour”:

Between the dark and the daylight,

When the night is beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day’s occupation,

That is known as the Children’s Hour.

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,

Because you have scaled the wall,

Such an old mustache as I am

Is not a match for you all!

I hold you fast in my fortress,

And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon

In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,

Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away!

Not all fathers are so occupied with business cares that they may not, if they would, attract their children and strengthen and ennoble their life by stories. Not a few fathers I have known have left this priceless heritage and memory to grateful children.

When should parents begin to tell stories to their children? As early as possible. When should they cease? At no point. Walter T. Field, in “Finger Posts for Children’s Reading,” tells of a father who read a course in history with his sons when they were grown into young manhood. Not the least reason for the father, as well as the mother, being the story-teller to their own children, is the comradeship of it. A well-loved writer once said that in his long experience he had never seen any family of boys go wrong where their father was their “chum,” if the father was himself the man he ought to be. The father’s comradeship with his boy or girl begins very early in the child-life, and the earlier it begins, the deeper and stronger will the roots go down into the soul. Story-telling during the golden years of childhood in the home, or as the father walks abroad into the country with his boy, will weld bonds of friendship between father and son that no after years can sunder.

Many homes cannot afford a large library of many books, but no home is so poor that parents in joyous partnership may not gather the children together on a winter’s evening or summer’s day, and tell them some of the great stories of the world. To do so is to reenter in joyous comradeship into the child’s enjoyment, which is the highest prerogative of a parent. It is in this sense “to become again as a little child.” And besides all, it is to be rewarded by discovering, as nearly as can be on this side of heaven, the fount of perennial youth.

STORIES IN THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL

Only recently has the value of teaching by stories been taken seriously in the Sunday-school. It is likely Robert Raikes, the founder of the modern Sunday-school movement, never thought of telling stories to “the terrible bad boys,” the waifs from the alleys of Gloucester, whom in 1780 he gathered into his first Sunday-school in that city. Nor did the four teachers whom he hired at one shilling each week seem to dream of the children’s thirst for stories. They were perfectly content to teach these “young savages” to repeat simple prayers, the Church of England catechism, Bible questions and answers, and to sing Doctor Watts’ hymns; and occasionally Robert Raikes gave them a crack on the head with his walking-stick in order to impress some knotty point of instruction. But the recent study of child-nature, and the influence of modern psychology and pedagogy on the church, have clearly marked out a better way. In the religious training of children, no less than in their general education, story-telling is seen to be the easiest, simplest, and most effective means of impressing upon a new generation the lessons that have been learned by those who have gone before.

Dr. H. E. Tralle, in “Teacher-Training Essentials,” says: “All in all, the story method is probably the most valuable of all methods of teaching in the Sunday-school.”

“Of all the things that a teacher should know how to do,” says President G. Stanley Hall, “the most important, without exception, is to be able to tell a good story.”

Every Sunday-school teacher who would be successful in teaching modern boys and girls must give attention to this golden method of instruction, and should, as early as possible, learn this “the easiest of all the creative arts,” the delightful art of story-telling.

But oral story-telling has value in the Sunday-school outside the class instruction. The story form is the best expression of children’s worship, and should be employed in what is called “the opening and closing exercises.” A short story is soon told, but its influence abides long after “the address” is forgotten. Let the story-tellers and their stories be selected with care, and many a dull opening or closing exercise will be enlivened and enriched. Bible stories, Christmas and Thanksgiving stories, missionary stories, altruistic stories, stories of hymns, stories of noble acts of children recorded in our daily papers, all are serviceable. Many of the stories in this volume have been told again and again in the opening and closing exercises of Sunday-schools with good results.

Dr. Richard Morse Hodge well says: “If you do not tell stories at the services of a Sunday-school, please reflect that some one else may be telling stories to the same children at some other time and place; may be doing more to promote their worship of God than what you may be doing for them by a less intelligent method of conducting the Sunday-school services.”

STORIES IN CHURCH SERVICES FOR CHILDREN[1]

“Stories are better than sermonettes. A five-minute story, well told, from the pulpit often outweighs an hour’s discourse. Children under twelve rarely learn through abstract terms. Such explanations bore them, since they are first incomprehensible, and after a story are superfluous. Stories are better than object-lessons, since stories appeal both to the intellect and the emotions. Suppose a minister holds in his hands a watch and observes that if it goes wrong it has to be remedied from the inside, so also if a child goes wrong he has to be altered in the heart. This is clear so far as it goes, but it does not instruct a child how to adjust his heart any more than it teaches him how to be a watch-repairer. But suppose the minister tells a story of how ‘once upon a time’ a boy failed to be obedient until he fell in love with his mother. He then deals with the problem practically, directly, and naturally. The boy is full of interest, and the minister is religiously educating and inspiring. Story illustration is essentially the art of explaining the unknown by the familiar, an untried experience by an experience already gained, as Jesus used agricultural parables for peasants and fishing experiences to unenlightened fishermen.”

A number of ministers I know are telling five-minute stories from their pulpits each Sunday morning to the delight of both young and old; at the same time enriching their service of worship and solving, as far as it can be solved under present conditions, the vexed problem of how to get children to remain to the preaching service of the church. Others are successful in weaving into their shortened discourses choice stories which hold attention and illume and enforce the truth presented.

STORIES IN THE KINDERGARTEN

Froebel is the father of the kindergarten and the great modern inspirer of short story-telling for the young. His method was to create an atmosphere in which the child-nature could best bud and blossom in its unfolding life. For this reason he believed to have the children sit in a circle is far more conducive to good results in story-telling than the plan of the school with its bench and book. As disciples of Froebel kindergarteners have been pioneers in story-telling, leaders and inspirers of others and, until recently, as a class did more story-telling than any other educators. The kindergarten age is from three to six years normally, but with immature children may continue a year or two longer. In this period the child is in a transition from nursery rhymes and Mother Goose jingles to fairy tales, folk-lore, and nature stories. If the mother is the teacher in the kindergarten of her own home, as must be the case most generally, let her be sure to give her children, in addition to Mother Goose jingles, the Fairy and Folk Tales in Chapters I and III, such as “The Runaway Pancake,” “Red Ridinghood,” and many of the Fables in Chapter II. In the kindergarten proper let the teacher add to these world stories for this period such others as these may suggest. And if she has a creative imagination let her invent new stories from familiar objects, and let the children have an opportunity to vote which stories they like best—the “made-up” ones or these old classics.

STORIES IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS

No longer are school-teachers content to have kindergarteners hold a monopoly of story-telling. Richard T. Wyche, in his excellent work, “Some Great Stories and How to Tell Them,” says: “In the grades the child is occupied largely with reading and writing, the mastering of form, the book, and the desk—things that for the moment deaden rather than inspire, but are means to things of primary interest to him. So much time is necessarily put on form and learning to read the story that the pleasure and inspiration of the story itself is given a secondary place.” While this is recognized, the oral story, well told, is finding an ever-widening acceptance in the grades as the most popular and successful method in education. Good story-telling is being utilized in many subjects of the curriculum, for many purposes and in many departments, within and without the classes, because its artistic and educational possibilities are so great.

Richard T. Wyche gives his experience as a teacher in a little school in the South. The teacher who preceded him “heard lessons”—and the children “said lessons”—an easy way, he says, “for the questions were in the book, and the children could memorize and say the answers without interest or profit. They were bored by this mechanical process as was the teacher.” One day he told the class the story of “Hiawatha’s Fishing,” and every child listened with rapt attention, full of interest. Many of the children wrote out the story for their lessons the next day. One little fellow who did not write it told it in such a vivid and realistic way that the class applauded. Two stories a week followed until the whole story of Hiawatha was told. All the children were interested, and within two months, grammar, language, composition, spelling, drawing, had all been taught by the story-telling method.

The story is now seen to be so important a method in education that we may expect to see this art become a part of the equipment of all teachers, and the story literature of the world become more and more accessible and adaptable to the unfolding life of childhood and youth in our public schools.

STORIES AND THE PUBLIC LIBRARY

It is a poor public library to-day where there is no provision for a story-teller and a “story-hour,” as a means of introducing boys and girls to the best books. Books on the shelves are of no value. They are for reading, but they are not likely to be read unless they are known. A story, well told, from a book, will often prove the most successful way of leading the children to desire to read the book. A friend of mine, a teacher in the high school in a small town in Colorado, has influenced the whole community for good by introducing a “children’s story-hour” one afternoon a week into a library which, before her effort, was scarcely patronized at all, and which now is the center of interest and “the liveliest place in town.”

Of course the primary use of the story-hour in the library is different from that in other places. In the public school the purpose of the story is to teach language, literature, geography, history, and such subjects; in the Sunday-school, church services, and the home, the spiritual and ethical aim of the story is necessarily prominent. In the public library, the story is told for the purpose of bringing the best books to the attention of the public that they may thereby be benefited.

As each of these agencies in the educative process of the child life differs in its task, so it follows that there must be in each institution a different use of the story. But as elsewhere, so in the library there are many “by-products” of oral story-telling. Miss Frances J. Olcott, of the Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh, Pa., the prime mover and leader in this popular work, calls attention to the by-products of the story-hour. She says: “Besides guiding his reading, a carefully prepared, well-told story enriches a child’s imagination, stocks his mind with poetic images and literary allusions, develops his power of concentration, helps the unfolding of his ideas of right and wrong, and develops his sympathetic feelings, all of which ‘by-products’ have a powerful influence on character. Thus the library hour becomes, if properly utilized, an educational force as well as a literary guide.”

STORIES IN SETTLEMENTS

Children in settlement districts in our large cities are not different from other children in their love of stories. The story-teller is the saint of the settlement. Few settlement workers to-day would venture on their mission without the necessary equipment of this art.

STORIES IN BOYS’ CAMPS

Stories told to boys around the camp-fire at night leave little to be desired in a boy’s imagination. They charm him as they did the weary hunters in the boyhood of the race when the story-tellers beguiled the silence of the desert or forest with the mirth and wonders of the same tales that delight to-day. One of the finest collections of stories for boy camps is “Around the Fire Stories of Beginnings,” by Hanford M. Burr.

II
THE PERIODS OF INTEREST IN STORIES

It is a great mistake to suppose that any kind of story will do for any age of childhood. Nothing could be more erroneous. There are well-marked periods or epochs for different kinds of stories, as for any graded instruction, and care should be taken to give each kind of story “in its season” in the unfolding life. A study of the normal characteristics and interests of child life underlies the selection of suitable stories. A boy of twelve is a very different personality from what he was at three and seven, and will be at seventeen and twenty-one. Your boy or girl at twelve will reject, with scorn, a fairy tale that lights up the wondering eyes of the young child. It is necessary, therefore, for the parent or the child-lover to know at just what age a particular type of story is adaptable, or when the particular ethical truth intended to be impressed can best be assimilated.

There is perhaps less harm done by giving boys and girls what is beyond them than is done by talking down to them. They will be bored by the too mature. They may permanently scorn the babyish or sentimental. Moral nuts are not for babes; nor predigested food for young athletes. Studies of children’s characteristics and interests at different periods may be found in such excellent books as the following: “Aspects of Child Life and Education,” G. Stanley Hall; “A Study of Child-Nature,” Elizabeth Harrison; “The Pedagogical Bible School,” S. B. Haslett; “The Individual in the Making,” Kirkpatrick; “The Psychology of Thinking,” Irving E. Miller; “The Unfolding of Personality,” H. T. Mark; “Childhood,” Mrs. Theodore Birney.

Such books are well worth consulting. They should lead to a first-hand study of the different epochs of child life by every parent, teacher, and minister who wishes to be “a workman who needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”

Roughly sketched, the various periods of child life, with their story interests, are as follows:

1. THE PERIOD OF BABYHOOD

This period is from birth to three years. The story interest begins with lullabies, rhymes, and jingles. Every thoughtful mother must notice that even before the little one can speak it responds to rhymes repeated over and over. Half of the baby’s pleasure is in the frequent hearing of a familiar strain. The baby enjoys also, largely for rhythm’s sake, the shortest and simplest stories with refrains and repetitions; also cumulative stories like the “Three Bears,” “This Little Pig Went to Market,” “The House that Jack Built,” and many others to be found in Mother Goose, Æsop, Grimms, and Jacobs. Mothers should begin singing and repeating rhymes, rhythms, and nursery ditties from the child’s very earliest days. The child’s delight in rhyme and rhythm will be satisfied, the ear will be trained to listen, the power of concentration will be cultivated, and, best of all, a preparation for a love of poetry, a most valuable asset in education and in life, will be begun. A keen interest and enjoyment in rhythm is found in almost every normal infant. It is the rudiment or germ of a sense of balance and harmony, and as such should be carefully nurtured. The Greeks laid great stress on this sense of harmony through music and poetry.

2. THE PERIOD OF EARLY CHILDHOOD

This period is from three to six years. It begins in an interest in live things, in domestic animals, and later in flowers, wind, rain, stars, and other expressions of nature. The child now finds delight in picture-books, short stories of animals, birds, and flowers. When a little older he enjoys fables, short fairy stories, and folk and wonder-tales, short moral stories and imaginative stories of home, play, and humor. Historic tales of the nation and Bible stories, well adapted and simplified in language, will prove of the greatest interest to children of this early period. No hard and fast lines can be drawn in ages. Allowance must always be made for temperament, disposition, heredity, and family environment. I have found little children, under three years of age, reproducing to me, without having previously seen me, or hearing them from me, several of the fairy stories and fables in this volume; and I have found boys and girls nine and ten years old still enjoying them. But with the average child such short fairy and folk-tales are keenly enjoyed between the ages of three and six years.

3. THE PERIOD OF LATER CHILDHOOD

This period is from six to nine years. It differs from the preceding period only in the fact that its normal interests are wider, its vocabulary larger, and its whole outlook enlarged by reason of attendance upon the public school. Fairies and Santa Claus are naturally the favorite characters of children from three to six, but as they pass out of early childhood they discern that “the cow did not jump over the moon,” and that Santa Claus is, as one of my little friends expressed it, “only the spirit of love.” The child then wants true stories. He is apt to inquire earnestly, “Is it true?” or his request may bluntly be, “Tell me a true story.” This is the period for repeating in larger and more descriptive form the grand old Bible stories that children of this age love so much. It is the time for the realistic and historic tales of the nation that kindle imagination and patriotism. It is the time for the lives of the pioneers, explorers, or missionaries like Columbus, Capt. John Smith, Washington, Lincoln, and Livingstone. This is the golden period of such stories from the Bible (especially the Old Testament), from general history and from national history, as are given in this volume.

4. THE PERIOD OF BOYHOOD AND GIRLHOOD

This stage, from nine to twelve, is possibly the most impressionable period of life. It is not a time of marked internal changes, but one in which the external, social, and regulative influences are very prominent. Life is unique. The boy and girl are unlike the children that were, or the youth and maiden that will be. The transition from childhood to boyhood and girlhood comes very imperceptibly. But the average child enters it when he begins to read easily and naturally; and this ability may well mark the change. When a boy or girl has this new power to understand and enjoy books, life acquires a new range. The whole wide world of literature lies open. Life begins to be full of meaning. These plastic years are the habit-forming period. As the twig is bent the tree will be inclined. A pebble may turn the stream of life. It is the great memory period. It is the golden age to mold character after the Pattern in the Gospels, if the work is done naturally. Give the boy and girl realistic stories—those from the Old Testament, and the Gospels, and Acts; those from the history of all nations, and from our own national life. Give the choicest idealistic stories—those legends, strong fables, romances, tales of chivalry, and poetic interpretations of ethical truth, such as “Favorites,” in Chapter IV of this volume; Ruskin’s “King of the Golden River”; Hawthorne’s “Great Stone Face”; and “The Story of Midas,” which so strongly appeal to this age. In this pre-adolescent, this habit-forming and golden-memory period, imagination, curiosity, action, impressionableness, trust, loyalty, and many other instincts of child-nature are all present ready to combine with every efficient element of environment, education, example, and experience to build up the foundation-stones of a wholesome character and useful life. Feed the minds of these growing boys and girls on the great Bible stories, the great classic, realistic, and idealistic stories of the world, such as are found in this volume, or suggested by them, and your young men and women will not care for trashy stories as they cross the bridge of the teens.

5. THE PERIOD OF EARLY YOUTH

This period is from twelve or thirteen to seventeen or eighteen. This adolescent period is the time of marked changes no less in mind than in body. Like the former period, it is critical and determinative. Self-consciousness, memory, honor, heroism, idealism, moodiness, partisanship, are among the prominent characteristics. Fairy tales do not interest. Stories of romance, heroism, and adventure make the strongest appeal. Stories of egoism, triumph over difficulties, self-mastery, loyalty to friends, are most keenly enjoyed. Stories of altruism come later, in the next period. If they have not been given in the previous period, the great romances of the world should come early in this stage—Homer’s “Iliad” and “Odyssey”; Virgil’s “Æneid”; the stories of King Arthur and the Round Table; the stories of “Beowulf” and “Siegfried”; the legends of the red Indian “Hiawatha,” and the great romances from the story-books of the world. The epics, hero tales, romances, and great purpose-stories of the Old Testament, as well as the scenes of the New Testament, find a ready response in every normal youth’s heart, and should be given at this period. In addition to these, stories from history, adventure, modern biography, missionary life, well written or well told, will interest and impress the character of all those older boys and girls who are so fortunate as to have the mirror of life held up to them in this way as an aid to them in the realization of those highest and best instincts and impulses which are so naturally and abundantly surging within their breasts during these critical early adolescent years.

6. THE PERIOD OF LATER YOUTH—YOUNG PEOPLE

This period is from seventeen to twenty-one or twenty-five. It is the period of altruism, love, and vocation. The period of early adolescence is egoistic; this period is ego-social, and strongly altruistic. This change in the unfolding nature of youth opens the interest to stories of self-sacrifice, heroic service and love even for enemies. These stories could not be appreciated in so keen a way before. This altruistic interest normally awakens several years earlier in girls than in boys. (See Altruistic Stories, page 33.) At the beginning of this period, and sometimes a little before, a natural interest in romantic love leads to the keen enjoyment of such stories. Love is so important and normal a factor in human life that such interest ought never to be suppressed, but it should always be directed by the most tactful and sympathetic guidance in the selection of such love stories as are referred to on page 33 of this volume.

Another normal interest of this period is that of vocation, choosing one’s life-calling. If the young man or young woman has not already started to work to support himself, the question of his life-work begins to press hard for an answer. And the ideals that shall shape the choice or spirit of that life-work are already being formed. This is the great time of appeal of such vocational stories as are indicated on page 34.

III
TYPES OF STORIES TO TELL

Stories for telling may be found everywhere—in a thousand children’s books, magazines, periodicals, poems, novels, histories. They may be recalled from those heard in childhood. They may be “made up” from the memory of one’s own past history or the adventures of friends. Or they can readily be woven out of a vivid imagination. Such stories may afford children passing amusement and a degree of profit, but such stories rarely have the permanent, cultural value that comes from an acquaintance with the old classics. Emerson said, “We love the classics, not because they are ancient, but because they are true to life.” Every child has a right to his literary and esthetic inheritance, and these classics, these great world stories, should be given him for their cultural, moral, and religious values before his twelfth year.

An understanding of the normal interests of child-nature is the first step in the selection of suitable stories to tell. The second step is the actual selection. The selection, of course, will depend on these factors—the story-teller’s purpose, his available material, and his taste. The purpose of telling a story may be pure enjoyment, or the impression of an ethical principle, or some cultural or educational aim. The available material may be supplied by many books of short stories retold. Such is the purpose of the present volume. The taste of the story-teller must not be permitted to dominate the real life interests and needs of the child’s nature. Nor will this be the case if we realize the child’s story interests, and permit the child to vote on the kinds of stories he likes. An understanding of the different types of stories to tell will be of value to all who desire to secure the best results. Some of the different types of stories may be classified as follows:

1. BIBLE STORIES

Bible stories are the best of all to tell to children. They have a cultural, esthetic, literary, educational, and ethical value, quite apart from their spiritual and religious use, that puts them in the very front rank as stories that interest, instruct, and inspire young life. These stories are the rich inheritance of the race. They are a treasure-house of ethical and spiritual wisdom. Bible stories are never sectarian. It is the teller’s fault if he so interprets them. They are pervaded by a perennial humanity and a direct simplicity that make the strongest appeal to the young of every century. The Bible reaches into the soul and impels the will to action as no other book does. For these reasons every child should be made familiar with the Bible from babyhood up. Simple parts should be read aloud to the child in its early years. The simplicity, dignity, and grandeur of the language, the objective spirit, and the dramatic action bring many parts of the Bible within the comprehension of even a very young child. In telling such adapted forms as are reproduced in this volume, care should be taken, as early as possible, to familiarize the child with the Bible version itself. Some of the best collections of Bible stories are: “Children’s Treasury of Bible Stories,” Mrs. Herman Gaskoin; “Tell Me a True Story,” Mary Stewart; “Stories About Jesus,” Dr. and Mrs. C. R. Blackall; “Story of the Bible,” J. L. Hulburt; “Story of the Bible,” C. Foster; “Kindergarten Bible Stories,” Cragin; “Old Stories of the East,” James Baldwin.

2. MISSIONARY STORIES

Numerous short and simple stories of heroic lives have recently been written in a very attractive way for boys and girls. These hero stories are for telling, not reading, in home, Sunday-school classes and opening exercises, junior mission circles, or young people’s missionary meetings. A few of the best are: “Fifty Missionary Heroes Every Boy and Girl Should Know,” by Julia H. Johnson; “Love Stories of Great Missionaries,” by Belle M. Brain; “The White Man at Work,” and “The Splendid Quest,” by Matthews (suitable for children eight to fifteen).

3. PLAY STORIES

Some parents and teachers find it hard to see any value in play stories like “The Runaway Pancake,” “The Little Red Hen,” and “The Golden Goose” (pages 47-51); or such nonsense stories as “The Fox Without a Tail,” “Why the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail” (pages 71, 77); or funny stories like “Lazy Jack” and “Epaminondas.” Such parents do not get the child’s point of view. The idle pleasure or extravagance provokes their displeasure and appears to them driveling nonsense. But why should not the mind have an innocent frolic? Why should the child be deprived of his birthright of “being a child” and “understanding as a child”? The child loves play and loves these play stories because they are play.

4. FAIRY AND FOLK-TALES

Sometimes a mother says: “I do not want to tell my child lies. I will give him only truth, history, biography, or useful stories.” Such a mother fails to see that in excluding fairy and folk-tales from her child’s mind she is simply shutting the door of his imagination and hindering his power to do great things in after-life by closing for him the storehouse of creative imagination. Imagination is the most powerful factor in any life. Helen Keller, when asked what sense she considered the most important, replied, “Imagination!” By imagination the blind see the invisible. By this sense, Newton, Kepler, Davy, Faraday, Edison, and Burbank saw from afar their great discoveries and inventions and brought them near. Such an unpoetic mother would rob her child of his right to his inheritance of an age-long literature; a literature marking his kinship with the race-children of the past; a literature adapted to his needs as to theirs, and a literature which will serve as the basis of all true spiritual culture. “There are those who reduce life to the plane of that of Dickens’ Thomas Gradgrind, who cared not for feeling and sentiment, but must have cold, bare, hard facts, enjoying only the practical and the usable, and living in his rectangular house and having everything about him right-angled. But we know that in children there is a place for the sentimental and the free play of feeling, although these are not to be made prominent in training and instruction but provided for in the material used. Doctor Parker said: ‘The atheism, the materialism of the present day in our land, is largely due to the banishment of fiction and fairy tales by the Puritans. “Facts,” Gradgrind “facts,” drive beauty and holiness from the child’s heart.’”[2]

Fancy, imagination, power to see the unseen, need to be fed with suitable food. Imaginative stories exercise and cultivate the imagination, the creative faculty. If a child lacks imagination, fairy stories help to arouse it. If he knows little about nature, tales of woods and fields will quicken and interest. Children who are brought up in cities especially need the counteracting influences breathed by these race-long tales which are so imaginative, objective, and childlike, and which have been the joy of childhood from the morning of the world. The best fairy tales also have great ethical value. They present moral truths in a way that appeals directly to children. “Cinderella” teaches the reward of modesty and humility; the “Golden Goose” shows the reward of charity and a kind heart; “Red Ridinghood” illustrates obedience to parents, the cardinal virtue of childhood; “Boots and His Brothers,” readiness; “Toads and Diamonds,” good and bad speech; and “The Frog King,” keeping a promise. Fairy tales that present perverted ideas of right and wrong or that picture success achieved by lying or theft, or that justify ingratitude, disloyalty, or irreverence, should find no place in collections for children. Yet, in the desire to impress a moral lesson, great care must be taken not to strip these age-long stories of all their native freshness and strength. The best moral effect will be gained by letting the child enjoy the story as a whole without too pronounced emphasis on the moral. Some good collections are: Grimm’s “Household Tales”; Andersen’s “Wonder Stories”; Grimm Brothers and Joseph Jacobs, “Fairy Tales”; Baldwin, “Fairy Stories and Fables.”

5. FABLES

Fables are short stories in which animals or inanimate objects are represented as speaking or acting with human interests or passions. They were among the earliest stories told by all races. Many of the commonest fables, earliest told to children to-day, such as the “Dog in the Manger” and “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” originated in Asia. Æsop’s “Fables” was the first moral lesson book for children. They are now an integral part of our literature and language. For this reason, as well as others, children should become familiar with them. They please the child’s fancy, satisfy his craving for short, objective, ethical tales, and impress such virtues as prudence, honesty, contentment, generosity, and wisdom. Fables that teach revenge or success by lying and craft should be rejected.

Some good collections are: Æsop; La Fontaine; “Fables and Folk Stories,” H. E. Scudder; “Fairy Stories and Fables,” Baldwin.

6. MYTHS

Myths have their origin in primitive man’s personification of the forces and objects of nature, as gods, demons, giants, dwarfs, light-elves, spirits of darkness, trolls, and hideous monsters. Interpreting nature in poetic imagery and language, primitive races came to believe in these myths as their religion. The Greek myths, which are largely personifications of the beauty of nature, are especially pleasing to children who love stories of flowers, trees, fountains, and sudden transformations, as the natural response to their inherent love of nature. The Norse myths are personifications of the awe-inspiring natural phenomena of the cold and rugged northland. Such stories picture stalwart courage, manliness, and heroic virtue, qualities that appeal to later childhood and youth. The myths of the American Indian, such as Longfellow’s “Hiawatha,” treating of the spirit of the wild woods and free out-of-door life, are well adapted to the child’s love of nature.

“Myth is not a goal. It is a means by which the goal is reached. The race grew out of the myth-making period of its development, and the child will grow out of the myth-loving stage in its religious development, unless hindered by parents or teachers who unwisely withhold this childhood religious material from him.”[3]

Some of the best collections of myths are Hawthorne’s “Wonder-Tales”; Kingsley’s “Greek Heroes”; “Norse Stories Retold,” Mabie; “Stories of the Red Children,” Dorothy Brooks.

7. LEGENDS

Both myths and legends belong to folk-lore literature and to the idealistic type of story. The difference between them is that the myth is a personification of nature, while the legend is an idealization of a person or place. “The myth is a creation of fancy from ideas. The legend is the perception of an idea from a basis in fact. The myth is a creation of pure and absolute imagination. The legend is a story based on historical fact, but enlarged, abridged, or modified at pleasure. Both myths and legends express the imagination, emotion, and spirit of early man, and, for this reason, make a strong appeal to the same qualities in the soul of those who are in the early years of life to-day.” As all races have their legends, the list of them is long. Not one-thousandth part of them can be told. Among legends that age after age has loved and treasured, are those of India, brought together in the “Jataka Tales,” those of Greece and Rome, of the Middle Ages, of the Northmen, of King Arthur and the Round Table, and of the American Indian. Some of the best collections are: “Juventus Mundi,” Gladstone; “Famous Legends,” Crommelin (legends of all countries); “Legends of Greece and Rome,” Kupper; “Book of Legends,” Scudder; “Child’s Book of Saints,” Canton.

8. NATURE STORIES

Stories of animals, birds, pets, trees, plants, flowers, mountains, seas, and other expressions of nature are very popular with children from their earliest years. But these stories need adaptation and strengthening with the growing years. They may be used to teach the habits of animals or the laws of plant life, thus stimulating scientific interest in the animal and plant world. Their best use is simply to please and delight the child’s fancy. How children revel in a story that begins, “Once there was a bear,” or “There was once a little, furry rabbit.” Such stories are the first steps, in curiosity and imagination, into the feelings and fortunes of creatures different from themselves, preparing for a sympathetic interest in the lives of others, not only of animals, but of human beings. In the early years, fanciful animal stories may be given. But later, only true stories of animals have value. Some good nature stories are: “Nature Myths and Stories,” Cooke; “True Tales of Birds and Beasts,” Jordan; “Door-yard Stories,” Pierson; “True Bird Stories,” Miller.

9. ALLEGORICAL STORIES

The allegory is a double story, or two stories in one. While one story is being told, another, a deeper and often a still more interesting story, is caught by the imagination or reason. Fables and parables are short allegories with one definite moral. The allegory has been the favorite form of story among almost all nations, and is especially pleasing to children. The Bible contains a number of beautiful allegories, one being the comparison of Israel to a vine, in the Eighteenth Psalm. Æsop’s fable of the stomach and its members is an allegory. Some of the most perfect allegories are found in “The Golden Windows,” and “The Silver Crown,” by Laura E. Richards. Ruskin’s “King of the Golden River”; Spenser’s “Faerie Queene”; Swift’s “Tale of a Tub”; Addison’s “Vision of Mirza”; Mrs. Gatty’s “Parables from Nature”; Miss Slossum’s “Story-Tell-Lib”; and, above all, Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress,” are allegories with which every modern boy and girl should become familiar.

10. HISTORICAL STORIES

Idealistic stories—fairy tales, folk-lore, myths, legends, fables, and allegories—have their place. They add to the poetry, imagery, enjoyment, spirituality, and enrichment of a life that would often be wholly prosaic without them. But after all, the growing boy and girl who pleads “Tell me a true story,” at approximately the age of six, reveals the truth that the mind cannot be satisfied without the solid, hard, real ground of historical and scientific fact. For this reason by far the larger number of stories that must be told, and that are demanded by advancing childhood and youth, are realistic stories. These are stories from national or world history, biography, personal reminiscences and adventures, true stories of animals, and all others that recount actual happenings. “These have a special value because, besides suggesting a principle, they also indicate how it may receive specific application in life. The deeds of the Christian martyrs and of the modest heroes of every-day life have a certain power which is beyond that of the most beautiful myth. The story of what Jesus did means more than all the visions of all the prophets.”[4]

Stories of national history impress the mind of the young with patriotism. Historical world stories inspire the heart of the young with a broader human sympathy for all the nations of the earth. The hunger for the heroic, which is native to the imagination and emotion of every growing boy and girl, may be fed by these classic stories of heroic action, endurance, decision, courage, faith, and self-sacrifice.

11. BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES

“God writes his greatest thoughts in noble men and heroic women.” The Bible is a book of biographies. The Gospels are the four biographies of its preeminent character, Jesus. This is one reason for the great charm of the Bible stories and for the great value of the Bible as a never-failing source from whence to gather material for the unfolding mind of childhood and youth.

History too is largely the story of great lives in their setting. The stories of individuals, and of events in which they are concerned, furnish the best historical material for boys and girls from nine to twelve. Indeed, biography should be central in the study of history at least to the sixteenth year. Suitable stories of the lives of great men and women are interesting at all stages of life, but particularly during the years of later childhood and early adolescence, when environment is widening and social and world interests are expanding. Biography is full of religious nourishment, spiritual contagion, ethical uplift, and humanitarian values. That which makes the strongest appeal is found in the Old and New Testaments, the life of Christ, the Acts of the Apostles, the great lives in national and general history, lives of discoverers, pioneers, missionaries, adventurers, inventors, warriors, seamen, and characters full of deeds of daring and difficulty, but at the same time manly and moral. Biography has too often, in the past, been limited to a record of the heroic deeds of generals and statesmen in war and political upheavals. We now see more clearly the value, in the earlier period of education, of biographies of leaders in other fields besides war and statesmanship, and we realize the necessity of inspiring youth with lofty ideals, by examples of both men and women in all possible forms of human service and moral and social heroism. This truer interpretation of the ethical and spiritual value of biography and history is illustrated by the biographical stories in Chapter X, “Heroes of Peace,” and Chapter XI, “Modern Boys and Girls Who Became Useful.”

12. ALTRUISTIC STORIES

Stories of unselfish heroism appeal to every age, but they find their strongest interest for the spirit of youth during the years of middle adolescence. Such stories of self-sacrifice may be selected from the Bible, history, fiction, or modern life. They not only show what is noble action, but touch the soul with the contagion of self-sacrificing deeds. From the Ethical Index, on page 291, under Altruism, Loyalty, Self-sacrifice, and such synonyms, a list of altruistic stories may be made.

13. LOVE STORIES

Stories of real or romantic love between the sexes have their strong appeal in middle adolescence. There may be an interest in these before this period or it may appear later. Such stories are usually for reading, but some of the best for telling are: “Ruth, the Gleaner”; “John Alden and Priscilla”; “Evangeline”; “The Silver Girl”; “Love Stories of Great Missionaries,” by Belle M. Brain; “The Three Weavers,” by Annie Fellows Johnson.

14. VOCATIONAL STORIES

These are the stories that will aid in preparing young people in choosing their life-work, or that will inspire them with the highest ideals in their work. Such stories may be found among all types. For example, the fairy story, “Boots and His Brothers,” shows the value of being prepared; the Bible story, “When Jesus Was Lost,” shows when Jesus found his life-work; “The Legend of St. Christopher” reveals ideals of service, and such legendary or historical stories as “Horatius at the Bridge,” “King Bruce and the Spider,” and “Dick Whittington” illustrate the rewards of service. Biographies are almost all vocational. This vocational interest, either clearly revealed or simply implied, may transform a story, otherwise distasteful to young people, into one full of interest, inspiration, and profit.

15. INSTRUCTIONAL STORIES

These are stories that are invented simply for the purpose of imparting instruction in some branch of science or art. The story-form and story-interest is taken advantage of to produce interest in the desired trade, craft, occupation, or science. Such stories must be used with care. But if used moderately and with tact they may prove of educational and even vocational value.

16. HUMOROUS STORIES

Variety is of great importance in story-telling, as in all ethical instruction and educational training. Life demands variety. Moral life is full of variety, vitality, and humor. Nor need we fear to bring these qualities into story-telling. Humor is leaven. Without it ethical teaching becomes flat. Laughter too is good for the world. It is a tonic to the emotions. “It does us all good to laugh if there is no smear or smirch in the laugh; fun sets the blood flowing more freely in the veins, and loosens the strained cords of feeling and thought; the delicious shock of surprise at every ‘funny spot’ is a kind of electric treatment for the nerves.” (Sara Cone Bryant.) Laughter is tone to the spirit and inspiration to fresh effort. It is a sign too, of broadening imagination and sympathies. As the nonsense and play-story are good for the child, so the wholesomely humorous story is good for the youth and the adult.

IV
PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS FOR STORY-TELLING

The true story-teller, like the true poet, is born, and not made. Talent in this creative art is a gift of nature, like a beautiful voice or skill in painting. But study, cultivation, and practice are necessary to advance the story-teller in his art, as in the case of the singer or the painter. Some practical suggestions may prove of value to beginners in story-telling:

1. ENCOURAGEMENT

There is comfort in knowing that a story need not be perfectly told to interest and delight little children in the home, kindergarten, or the lower grades of the Sunday-school and public school. The imagination of the little child is so keen, so abundant, and flows so freely that it triumphs over external defects of presentation and reaches the heart of things. Though this is true of one child or of a small group of children of about the same age and interests, it is not true, as practice soon teaches, of a large group, especially of children of different interests. Such an audience needs the magnetism of personality to hold it, and some real art in the presentation of the movement and details of the story.

Such professional story-telling is a rare gift, and is as valuable as it is rare. Not every parent, teacher, minister, or educator of youth, who may wish to be a story-teller may have the skill, time, patience, or perseverance to become an artist. Such training would involve the study of the technique of the use of the voice and of gesture, a thorough knowledge of the sources for stories, skill in the selection and preparation of material, practice in actual story-telling, and the hearing of stories told by professionals, the character of whose work unconsciously becomes the ideal of the story-teller. Training for such professional story-telling is given in colleges, presented in a number of interesting books, and encouraged by story-tellers’ training classes and leagues in many places. The hints here offered have the more modest story-teller in mind, the busy parent in the home, and the Sunday-school or public-school teacher, who may not have access to the technical books on the art of story-telling.

2. TELL THE STORY

Tell, do not read, the story. The teller is free. The reader is fettered. The oral story is more spontaneous, the connection with the audience is closer, the effect is more magnetic. It is the story plus personality and appreciation. The story-teller can give his message with his eyes as well as his lips without book or memory of the printed page to burden. The world stories contained in this volume are all designed for telling. After reading them through carefully once or twice, the mind will have the facts ready for telling. Stories adapted for telling must be written with more dramatic action and movement than those adapted for reading. But stories that are in a form suitable for telling are well adapted for enjoyable reading. Hence these stories have a double value, for telling or reading. But let it be kept well in mind that telling a story is incomparably better than reading it to any listener. The charm of a book cannot equal the magnetism of personality.

3. SELECT THE STORY

Select your story with some definite purpose in mind—pure enjoyment or some definite ethical principle, and let the aim be clearly in mind in the preparation for telling it. Select your story also with the child’s story-interests in mind, as presented in Chapter II. Make sure also that it is suitable in length and in style. Children who are accustomed to hearing stories can listen a longer time than those whose ears and brains are quite untrained. With very young children five minutes gives room for a really stirring tale.

4. MAKE THE STORY YOUR OWN

This is not the task of the memory, but of the imagination and the feelings. Read and reread the story. Do not memorize it. Visualize it. Picture it mentally. Fall in love with it. See the images. Feel the emotions of the characters. Breathe the atmosphere. Absorb its spirit, scene, setting, plot, people, and parts. Make it your own creation, living anew in your own soul. Then lay the book aside, and at leisure reproduce it, part by part, in your own thought or words, making sure that you have well in mind the story’s four parts: (1) Beginning; (2) progress of events; (3) climax; (4) end.

5. MASTER THE FOUR PARTS OF YOUR STORY

(1) Your story must have a beginning, which should be brief, concrete, interesting, introducing the chief character, scene, atmosphere, or spirit of the story in the fewest possible words.

(2) Your story must have a progress of events, an orderly movement, giving the essential facts, step by step, and full of action, leading up to the climax without revealing it in advance.

(3) Your story must have a climax that cannot be missed. This is the point and pith of your story. It is that for which it is mainly told and enjoyed. If a moral lesson is to be imparted, it is here that it is enforced. And failure here is total failure. Make sure of this climax, for to miss it is like trying to tell a joke, missing the point, and meeting humiliation and defeat.

(4) Your story must have an end. A successful ending is quite as important as the climax, and needs careful consideration. It must be brief and appropriate, and leave the mind at rest, without any questioning or dissatisfaction. It may be well for the beginner at first to analyze his stories in this way, into these four parts, either in his thoughts or on paper, for it will give excellent practice and make the retention of the story by the memory a simple matter. But with practice and drill these four parts of a good story will take their place in the mind and in the telling most naturally, easily, and pleasantly.

6. INTRODUCING YOUR STORY

The consciousness of having a good story to tell, and a story adapted to the age and interests of one’s audience, is the first step to that ease, freedom, dignity, and repose which are necessary at the start. If the story-teller can select his time, as many parents and teachers can, so much the better. If he is met by an ill-prepared audience, or an audience in an uncomfortable place, or under adverse circumstances, his introduction must serve to put him in touch with his audience. If several stories are in mind, the order may be changed, and a “humorous” story or other introductory remarks may serve to pave the way for the necessary response. Then he may proceed with the intended story or stories with his own eye and heart kindled, moving in a straightforward, spontaneous, self-forgetful way toward the desired lesson in the climax, and ending happily, leaving the audience delighted and impressed.

7. RETELL YOUR STORIES

Practise your stories! “Repetition is the mother of stories well told.” Repeat them. Do not be afraid of retelling them. The younger the children are the better they like old friends. Every one loves a “twice-told tale.” (Hervey.) “Practise! It will go clumsily at first. Imagination will be dull, facts will escape your memory, parts will be confused. But persevere, persevere! Study results. Listen to others. Catch their points of effectiveness. Above all things practise! practise! practise!” (Wells.)

8. LET CHILDREN REPRODUCE YOUR STORIES

Children should be given an opportunity to tell and retell the stories heard. Children like to create, and whether it be with sand, wood, or words, the underlying processes are the same. For a child to retell a story means that he enters into the spirit of it, that he sees clearly the mental picture, that he feels the atmosphere and life of the story. In this way imagination, memory, language, and reason are enriched and, at the same time, the ethical principle of the story is more clearly impressed on the child’s mind, to be assimilated at pleasure.

V
GAMES WITH STORIES

FINGER STORIES

Froebel was the first educator to discover the educational value of simple, instructive mother-plays. His “Mother Play Book” is one of the greatest books in the whole history of education. In it Froebel pictures home as it ought to be, and accompanies the mother in her daily round through the house, garden, field, worship, market, and church. Here is one of his charming set of finger games for the mother to teach her child while he is yet in her arms:

This is the mother, good and dear;

This is the father, with hearty cheer;

This is the brother, stout and tall;

This is the sister, who plays with her doll;

And this is the baby, the pet of all.

Behold the good family, great and small!

In such a song, the dawning consciousness of the child is turned to the family relations, and is surely an improvement on the old nursery method of playing “This little pig went to market.”

There are also little story finger-plays in which gestures may be employed as in the finger-play rhymes. A collection of these finger stories, the first play stories for infants, is given in “Descriptive Stories for All the Year,” by M. Burnham; and in “Finger Plays,” by Emilie Poulsson.

PLAYING THE STORIES

In early childhood, as soon as a story takes possession of the child, he shows a tendency to enter into its persons and its action; to mimic the voices, to ape the manners, to imitate the acts. This is the instinct of imitation and play. The child should be allowed to play out the story in this way, or better still, the parent or teacher may propose playing the story. Not every story may be played equally well, but the following familiar child’s stories may be used in play and heartily enjoyed without staging or any stage terms—just natural, spontaneous, hearty play: “Little Red Ridinghood,” “The Fox and the Grapes,” “The Lion and the Mouse,” “The Hare and the Tortoise,” “Dick Whittington and His Cat,” “Androcles and the Lion,” and others in this book.

“The Fox and the Grapes” (page 67) may be played by a single child. A wall is selected for holding the imaginary bunches of grapes. The child stands or crouches, looking up longingly at them, then jumps up for them, and, finally, after a fall, walks or crawls away, saying, “I know those grapes are sour and not worth eating.”

“The Lion and the Mouse” (page 74) may be played by two children. One child, choosing to be a lion, lies flat on the floor taking a nap. The child acting as a mouse crawls over him, awakening the lion, who roars and pins the mouse to the earth with his paw. “Let me go! I’ll help you some time,” cries the mouse, and, being freed, runs away. Later the lion is in an imaginary net, the meshes of which the mouse gnaws, and then runs away, saying, “I did help you after all, you see.”

In a similar way many of the stories of this book may be reproduced in play by two or more children to their great enjoyment and instruction.

DRAMATIZATION OF STORIES

As in the day-school kindergartens, little children play stories in response to a natural impulse to act out whatever they are thinking about, so in Sunday-school primary classes simple stories may sometimes be played with great pleasure and profit. In a school in Chicago the teacher had told the story of the “Lost Sheep.” Later the children played the story. They made the fold of chairs. One child was the shepherd, another child was the wandering sheep, and all the other children were the sheep who followed the shepherd safely back to the fold. When the shepherd realized that one sheep was missing, he started out to hunt for it. He looked behind great rocks (chairs) and in all dangerous places until he found the lost sheep. Certainly the child who took the part of the little lost sheep will not forget. In such a simple way the beginner in both the day-school and the Sunday-school, or in the home, may act out a story whose lesson will never be effaced from memory.

In later grades, historical and even Bible stories may be dramatized in short plays with excellent results. On special days, instead of presenting a ready-made cantata, let the children give a little play of their own composition, the result of several weeks of work upon a suitable Bible story.

Two good books of special interest on this whole subject are: “Historical Plays of Colonial Days,” by L. E. Tucker and Estelle L. Ryan; “Quaint Old Stories to Read and Act,” Marion F. Lansing.

VI
USE OF THE ETHICAL INDEX

Frequently a parent in the home, a teacher in the schoolroom, a minister, or other child-helper, in dealing with children, wishes to find a suitable story, at a moment’s notice, that may aptly and forcibly illustrate some ethical principle that he may wish to inculcate. Often a story, well selected and aptly told, will hold up “the mirror to nature” and, indirectly, by the law of suggestion, impress the mind and heart of the child far more successfully than a precept, command, or obtrusive moral. The Ethical Index, which will be found at the end of this book, on page 291, is for this purpose. By a moment’s reflection upon the moral principle desired to be impressed or suggested, a story illustrating it may be found. Of course, in many stories more than one ethical principle may be found, but no more than one, and that the strongest and most evident lesson, should be emphasized in one story. In this ethical use of a story great care must be taken not to overemphasize the moral lesson embedded in it, for that will be to lose it. In the use of this index the story-teller may well remember the prayer of Henry Van Dyke, “May I never tag a moral to a tale or tell a story without a meaning.”

Part II
Stories to Tell

I
FAIRY AND WONDER TALES

(Adapted for Children, Three to Six Years.)

1. THE RUNAWAY PANCAKE

Once upon a time seven hungry children were standing around the fireside, watching their mother frying a pancake for supper. “Oh, give me a bit, mother dear, I’m so hungry,” each of the children said. “Yes,” said the mother, “only wait till it turns, and you shall have some.” Pancake trembled and tried to jump out of the pan, but its back was so weak that it fell flat again on the other side. When that side was cooked, and its back felt stronger, Pancake gave a spring, jumping right out of the pan upon the floor, and began rolling away like a wheel, out through the door and down the steep hill. “Stop! Stop! Pancake!” cried the mother, running after it with the frying-pan in one hand and the spoon in the other. “Stop! won’t you stop?” all the children screamed; but Pancake rolled on faster and faster down the hill. It was a funny sight to see a man, and a hen, and a rooster, and a duck, and a goose, and a gander, all joining in the chase, trying to catch Pancake, who slipped by them all and rolled on. At the bottom of the hill there was a deep river. Just as Pancake rolled near it a Pig came up and said, “Pancake, roll on my snout, and I’ll take you safely across.” “Thank you,” said Pancake, rolling right upon Piggy’s nose. He sat there till they reached the other side in safety. “Ouf! Ouf!” then grunted the Pig; “what will you pay me for carrying you across?” When Pancake said, “I haven’t anything to pay you,” the Pig threw back his head, opened his mouth wide, and down went Pancake, saying, “I wish I had been eaten by those poor, hungry children, rather than by this nasty Pig!” And that was the end of Runaway Pancake.

2. THE LITTLE RED HEN

Once there was a Little Red Hen that lived, so neat and tidy, all alone in her house in the wood. Over the hill and far away in a den in the rocks lived a bad young Fox. He wanted to eat the Little Red Hen, but every time he went to her home he could not get her. One morning he took a big bag and told his mother to have the pot boiling when he got home so they could cook the Hen for supper that night. Over the hill he crept, trot, trot, trot, and saw Little Red Hen picking up sticks in front of her house. The Fox quietly slipped in without being seen, and hid behind the door. The Little Red Hen came in with her apron full of sticks, but when she saw the Fox with his bushy tail spread out on the floor, she became so scared she flew with a great scream to a high beam under the roof. The tricky Fox began to whirl around and around after his tail so fast that the Hen got so dizzy she fell to the floor. Quickly the Fox picked her up, popped her into his bag, and trotted off for home. Coming to a hill he thought he would stop, to take a rest, and he put his bag on the ground. Quick as a wink the Hen pecked a hole in the bag, jumped out, rolled a stone into the bag in her place, flew away to her home, and locked the door. “The Little Red Hen is heavy,” said the Fox as he started off again. As soon as he saw his mother, he cried, “Here is the Hen for our supper. Lift the cover off the pot, while I pop her in.” When the mother lifted the cover, the young Fox untied the bag and gave it a shake. Pop! Splash! Splash! Into the boiling water dropped the heavy stone. Out flew the boiling water, splashing and scalding the young Fox and his mother to death. So the Little Red Hen lived happily and tidily in her house after that.

3. THE GOLDEN GOOSE

Once a mother lived with her three sons in a house in the woods. One day the mother said to the oldest son, “Go, and cut wood in the forest, and here is a good dinner for you.” At dinnertime a queer, little old man came up and said, “I’m so hungry. Give me some of your dinner.” “Be off,” said the selfish boy, and he ate all his dinner by himself. Then he began to chop down a tree, but his axe slipped and cut his leg, and he went hobbling home without any wood. Next day the mother said to the next boy, “Go, and cut wood in the forest, and here is a good dinner for you.” At dinnertime the same queer little old man came and said, “I’m so hungry. Give me some of your dinner.” “No,” said the selfish boy, who ate all his dinner by himself. Then he began to chop a tree, but his axe slipped and cut his foot, and he went hobbling home without any wood. The next morning the youngest boy, Dummling, said, “Mother, I’ll get you some wood.” His mother gave him only some dry crusts, and he went into the woods. The same little old man came, saying, “I’m so hungry. Give me some of your dinner.” “Yes, gladly, I will,” said Dummling. In a moment the little old man changed the dry bread into a rich feast, and they both ate as much as they wanted. Then the little old man said: “You have been kind to me. Now I will do something for you. Cut down this tree, and at the roots you will find a Golden Goose.” Dummling quickly chopped down the tree, and in a hollow at the roots found a Golden Goose. He picked it up and went to the nearest stopping-place for the night, where he found three sisters who wanted some of the golden feathers. So, when Dummling had gone to bed, the oldest girl went in where the goose was to pluck a feather, but she stuck fast. The second girl came in later to pluck a feather, and she stuck fast too. Then the third sister, greedy for a feather too, put in her hand to get one, and she stuck fast. So the three girls had to stay with the goose all night. The next morning Dummling came in, and, not noticing the girls were stuck fast to it, picked up the goose and started off with it under his arm. The three girls were obliged to follow as fast as their legs could carry them down the street. A minister seeing the strange sight called out, “Shame! following a man like that! Let go!” But as soon as he touched them he stuck fast and had to follow. Then a policeman ran up, saying to the minister, “For shame! following girls like that! Let go!” And as soon as he touched them he stuck fast and had to follow. It was a funny sight to see these five trudging behind one another. “Help! Help!” cried the policeman. Then two men going to work with picks and spades ran up, but as soon as they touched them they stuck fast and had to follow. So these seven, all in line, treading on one another’s heels, followed Dummling and his Golden Goose until they reached the gates of the city in which a King lived who had a daughter so very serious that no one could ever make her laugh. The King had promised that whoever could make her smile should have her for a wife, and should be the King’s son. When Dummling heard that he went at once near the palace window, and when the Princess looked out and saw such a comical sight she burst into a hearty laugh. So Dummling became the King’s son, and lived with the Princess and his Golden Goose, happy ever afterward.

4. DIAMONDS AND TOADS

Once there was a mother who lived with her two daughters in a house in the woods. The elder daughter was very proud and disagreeable; the younger one was kind, sweet-tempered, and beautiful. The mother was very fond of the elder daughter because she was more like herself, and she disliked the younger one and made her work hard all the time in the kitchen and go twice a day to carry water in a pitcher from the spring in the woods two miles from home.

One day, when this younger daughter was at the spring, a poor old woman came to her and asked her for a drink. “Yes,” said the kind, obliging girl, and she gave her a cool, refreshing drink from her pitcher. The woman said: “As you have been kind to me, I will give you this gift. At every word you speak a jewel or a flower shall come from your mouth.” When she reached home her mother scolded her for being gone so long. “I beg your pardon, mother dear,” she said, “for not being quicker.” And as she spoke, out of her mouth dropped two diamonds, two pearls, and six roses. “What do I see?” exclaimed her mother. When the girl told her all, the mother said: “I must send my dearest daughter to receive this gift too. Come, Fanny, see what comes out of your sister’s mouth when she speaks. All you have to do to get the same gift is to go and give the poor old woman a drink from the pitcher.” “I won’t go,” said the ugly-tempered girl; “let sister give me some of her jewels. She does not need them all.” At last her mother persuaded her to go, and she went grumbling all the way. When she reached the spring she saw, not the poor old woman her sister had met, but a beautiful lady, who asked her for a drink. It was the fairy changed from the old woman into a princess. “I did not come out to give you a drink,” said the selfish girl; “you can get water from the spring as well as I.” “You are not very polite,” said the fairy; “since you are so rude and unkind I give you this gift: At every word you speak, toads and snakes shall come out of your mouth.” The girl ran home, and as soon as she spoke to her mother two snakes and two frogs fell from her mouth. “What is this I see?” cried her mother. The girl tried to tell, but at every word toads and snakes dropped from her lips. And so it was forever after—jewels and flowers fell from the kind girl’s mouth, but only toads and snakes fell from the mouth of the girl who was rude and unkind.—Charles Perrault.

5. THE FROG KING

Once there was a king who had a little daughter so beautiful that the sun had never seen any one so beautiful. Close by the palace there was a dark wood, and underneath a large tree was a well. One day the little Princess sat by this well, tossing her golden ball into the air until at last it fell into the water. She began to cry bitterly. A Frog peeped out of the water and said, “What will you give me, King’s Little Daughter, if I get your ball for you?” “I will give you anything,” she said, “my pearls, my jewels, my golden crown.” “If you will let me be your playmate and sit by your side at table, and eat out of your golden plate, and sleep in your little snow-white bed, I will bring your ball to you again.” “I promise all,” she said, thinking that a Frog could not live with people. In a moment the Frog plunged into the water head foremost, caught the ball, and swam back with it in his mouth and threw it on the grass to her. She picked up her pretty plaything and ran away with it, heedless of the Frog’s cry, “Wait! Wait!” She did not listen, but ran home as fast as she could and forgot all about her promise to the Frog.

The next day as the royal family was seated at dinner, something came creeping, splish, splash, splish, splash, up the marble staircase. Then a knock was heard at the door, and a voice said, “King’s Little Daughter, open the door for me.” When she opened the door she saw the Frog. She screamed with fright, and slammed the door in his face. When she told her father of her promise to let the Frog be her playmate, the King said, “What you have promised you must keep. Go, and let him in!” She opened the door and the Frog hopped in and followed her step by step to the chair. “Lift me up!” he cried. She did not like to do this, but the King said, “What you have promised you must keep.” When the Frog was on the chair, he wanted to be on the table and eat out of the golden plate, and when she started to go upstairs he asked her to let him rest on her snow-white bed. She was afraid of the cold, clammy Frog, and she began to cry again. But the King said, “What you have promised you must keep. Ugly though he is, did he not help you when you were in distress, and will you despise him now?” So the Princess took hold of him with her fingers, carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. When he pleaded again to rest on her snow-white bed, she became angry and took hold of him and threw him with all her might against the wall. “Now will you be quiet, hateful Frog?” she said. But when he fell to the floor suddenly he changed from a frog into a beautiful Prince with kind and shining eyes looking at her. He told her how he had been changed into a Frog by a very wicked fairy, and how no one but she could get him out of the well and change him into a King’s son again, and that when they grew older they would be married and live together in his kingdom. The next morning when the sun was up, a carriage appeared drawn by eight white horses, and when the King and Queen gave their consent for the Princess to go, she was glad to be the Queen and live in the Prince’s beautiful kingdom. But she never forgot what her father had told her, “What you have promised you must keep.”

6. RED RIDINGHOOD

“GOOD MORNING, LITTLE GIRL, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

Once a sweet little girl, named Red Ridinghood, lived with her mother in a house near a wood, and her loving Grandmother lived on the other side of the wood. One day her mother said, “Take Grandmother this basket of fresh eggs, butter, and cakes, for she is ill. Be sure and not leave the main path.” The little girl said, “Yes, mother, I will do just what you say.” Then she took the basket and went skipping and singing happily through the wood, until she saw some beautiful flowers a little distance from the path. “I will gather just a bunch of these lovely flowers for Grandmother,” she said to herself; but she had not gone far when she met a big, gray Wolf, who said, “Good morning, little girl, where are you going?” “To my Grandmother’s,” she said. Then the Wolf ran on before and knocked at Grandmother’s door with his paw, “Thump! Thump!” Grandmother was better and had gone out for a walk. So the Wolf walked in, put on Grandmother’s nightcap, and jumped into her bed. Soon Red Ridinghood came up and knocked at the door. “Who’s there?” said a voice, trying to speak like Grandmother. “It is your little girl,” she said. “Come in, dear,” said the voice. When she entered and looked in the bed, she cried out, “O Grandmother, what big ears you have!” “The better to hear you, dear.” “What big eyes you have!” “The better to see you, dear.” “What big arms you have!” “The better to hug you, dear.” “What big teeth you have, Grandmother!” “The better to eat you!” cried the Wolf, springing up. He was just about to eat her when the door burst open and in rushed some wood-choppers who soon killed the big, gray Wolf. Red Ridinghood ran home to her mother as fast as she could, and said, “Oh, mother dear! it happened because I disobeyed you, and went in that horrid path where I met the Wolf. But I will never, never disobey again!”

7. GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

Three bears lived in a home of their own in the woods—one, a great, big Bear, the Father, with a great, big voice; a middle-sized Bear, the Mother, with a middle-sized voice; and Little Baby Bear, with a little, wee voice. One morning, when the three bears were taking a walk while waiting for their breakfast of milk and honey to cool, a naughty, disobedient, runaway girl, named Goldilocks, came along and peeped into their window. Seeing no one, she walked into the kitchen and began to taste the breakfast. Father Bear’s was too hot; Mother Bear’s was too cold; Baby Bear’s was just right, so she ate it all up. Then she went into the parlor to rest, and saw three chairs. Father Bear’s was too hard; Mother Bear’s was too soft; Baby Bear’s was just right, so she sat on it and broke it down. Then Goldilocks went up the narrow stairs to the bears’ bedroom. She climbed on Father Bear’s bed, but that was too high for her; the Mother’s was too low; but the Baby Bear’s bed was just right, so she fell fast asleep. Soon the three hungry bears came home. Father Bear roared, “Some one has been tasting my breakfast and sitting on my chair!” Mother Bear growled out: “Some one has been tasting my breakfast and sitting on my chair!” Baby Bear screamed, “Some one has been tasting my breakfast and eaten it all up, and sitting in my chair and broken it down!” The bears then rushed upstairs. “Some one has been on my bed!” roared Father Bear. “Some one has been on my bed too!” growled Mother Bear. “Some one has been in my bed, and here she is!” screamed Baby Bear. This awoke Goldilocks, who was so frightened she sprang out on the other side of the bed, jumped out of the window, and ran home as fast as she could.

8. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY[5]

Once a good King and Queen were so happy to have a little baby girl that they gave a great feast in the palace, to which they invited seven beautiful Fairies, each of whom brought her a rich present. But one ugly Fairy, named Jealousy, who was angry because she was not invited, said, “I’ll make the Princess cut her hand with a spindle, and she shall die!” Everybody began to cry, but one good Fairy said: “No, she shall not die, but she shall sleep for a hundred years, and can be awakened only by a good Prince.” The King ordered all spindles to be put away; but when the Princess was sixteen years of age an old woman, who had not heard of the King’s command to put away all spindles, let the young Princess spin. In a moment she had cut her hand and fell to the ground in a deep sleep. The good Fairy flew at once to her side and said: “She is not dead, but, as I said, she shall sleep a hundred years, and can be awakened only by a good Prince.” They carried the sleeping Princess home, but when the Fairy thought how lonely she would be on awaking in a hundred years, she touched with her wand all the maids and servants, even Mopsy, her pet dog, and all fell asleep and were left in the great room in the palace with the Sleeping Princess, who lay there dressed in her most beautiful, royal garments. The King and Queen died of grief soon after, and great trees grew up around the palace, hiding it from the world, until a hundred years passed away. One day a Prince, rich, handsome, and good, was hunting in this thick forest, when suddenly he saw the palace towers, and asked an officer what the building was. When the officer told him how the good Fairy had said a Sleeping Princess in the palace could be awakened only by a good Prince, he determined to try and awaken her. Quickly entering the strange palace he found the beautiful Princess, fair as wax, sleeping on her couch, dressed in her royal garments, which were very beautiful though so strange and old in style. There too were the maids and servants in their queer clothes, and Mopsy, the pet dog, sleeping at the side of the Princess. The King’s son quickly touched one of the fair hands of the Sleeping Beauty and stooped to kiss it, and in an instant the Princess opened her eyes wide and smiled at him. At the same moment all the maids and servants, and even Mopsy, awoke and looked as fresh as though they had been asleep only a night. The servants at once, helped by the good Fairy, prepared a rich wedding-feast in the great dining-hall. Then the good Prince took the beautiful Princess to his own palace, where they were married in great joy. The palace in the woods disappeared. The ugly old Fairy, Jealousy, had died years before, but the good Fairy, whose name was Patience, came often to visit the good Prince and his Beautiful Princess, who had awaked from her sleep of one hundred years.

9. JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK

Once a poor widow lived alone with her boy, Jack, who was careless and paid no attention to what his mother said. One day Jack saw her in tears, for, she said, “We have nothing now in the world but a cow, which we must sell to get food.” So next morning, taking the cow to market, Jack met a butcher who showed him some wonderful beans, which he offered to give for the cow. Jack gave him the cow for the beans, and ran home very happy, thinking his mother would be happy too over his good fortune. But his mother was so grieved that she threw the beans out of the window, and both of them went supperless to bed that night. Next morning, lo! the beans had grown so tall that the stalks made a ladder reaching far up into the sky. Unseen by his mother, Jack began climbing up, up, up, until he reached the top, where he saw a strange country, and in the distance a great house. This was the castle of a great Giant who had gone on a journey. The Giant’s wife received Jack kindly, giving him something to eat, and when the Giant came home she hid him in the oven. Through a crack Jack peeped and saw the Giant eat his supper and then place a wonderful hen on the table, and every time he said “Lay,” she laid a golden egg. When the Giant fell asleep Jack jumped out of the oven, picked up the hen, ran off with it, and climbed down the bean-stalk. He found his mother crying, but when Jack put the wonderful hen on the table and said “Lay,” his mother’s eyes grew big with surprise, and her tears dried at once. Soon they had as many golden eggs as they wished to live on. But one day a fox ran off with the golden hen. Again, unseen by his mother, Jack climbed the bean-stalk. This time the wife hid him in the lumber closet when the Giant came roaring home. Through a crack Jack peeped and saw the Giant eat his supper and then place on the table big bags of gold and silver, and play with them. When the Giant fell asleep, Jack jumped from the closet, picked up the bags of money, ran off with them, climbed down the bean-stalk like lightning, and ran home. He found his mother again in tears, but when Jack showed her the bags of gold her surprise made her smile again. Not long after that, again unseen by his mother, Jack climbed up the bean-stalk. This time the wife hid him in a large kettle when the Giant came roaring home. Lifting up the lid a little way, Jack peeped out and saw the Giant eat his supper and then take out a magic harp and began to play wonderful music. When he fell asleep Jack jumped out of the kettle, picked up the magic harp, and started off with it. But the magic harp called out “Master! Master!” so loudly that the Giant awoke and began running after Jack. But Jack reached the top of the bean-stalk first. He climbed down it like lightning, picked up his axe, and chopped down the bean-stalk at its roots, making it fall over just as the Giant began to climb down. In a moment the wicked old Giant fell down into the garden, with a loud noise like a falling tree. And that was the end of the Giant and the Bean-stalk. But Jack never again caused his mother any sorrow.

10. JACK, THE GIANT-KILLER

Once a poor farmer had a good son named Jack, who was wide-awake and always ready to help. Far up on the mountain in a great cave lived a wicked Giant named Carmoran, who was so fierce and frightful that everybody was afraid of him. Every time he wanted food he came down the mountain to the valley and carried off oxen on his back, and pigs and sheep tied around his waist. The people were in despair. One day Jack heard the town officers say: “All the treasure the Giant has hidden in his cave shall be given to whoever rids the land of this evil Giant!” Jack laughed and said to them, “I will try!” So he took his horn and pick-axe and shovel and began digging a pit, deep and broad, covering it with sticks and straw. Then he sprinkled earth over it until the place looked like solid ground. Then he stood on the other side of the pit, and just at the peep of day he put his horn to his mouth and blew, “Tan-tivy! Tan-tivy!” The old Giant awoke, rubbed his eyes and rushed out of his cave, and seeing Jack running away, cried, “You villain, I’ll pay you for troubling my sleep! I’ll boil you for breakfast!” Just as he said that down he fell into the pit, and the very foundations of the mountains trembled at his fall. “O Giant,” laughed Jack, “will no other food suit you than sweet Jack?” Jack was not long in killing the wicked old Giant in the pit. Then he went to the cave and brought out all the treasure. When the town officers heard of this good deed Jack, the farmer’s son, had done, they called him

“Jack, the Giant-killer.”

They gave him a sword and belt, and in the belt they wrote:

Here’s to the right valiant Cornishman

Who slew the Giant, Carmoran.

11. ALADDIN AND HIS WONDERFUL LAMP

Once there was a Chinese boy named Aladdin, who was playing in the street, when a strange-looking man called to him, “My boy, I am your uncle! Come with me! I will give you great riches!” He took out of his pocket a beautiful gold ring, which he gave to the boy, who walked away with him. After a long time they came to a great stone which had a ring to lift it up. The man lifted up the stone and showed Aladdin a deep cave, saying to him: “At the other end of this cave there is a door leading to a palace and a garden of fruit trees where you will find a lamp hanging. Bring me this lamp and I will give you great riches.” This man was not Aladdin’s uncle, but a wicked magician, who wanted to use the boy to get this lamp for him, for it had power to make whoever possessed it greater than any prince. Aladdin went down into the cave and found the lamp and everything just as the man had said. When he came back to the mouth of the cave he said, “Uncle, help me up!” “Give me the lamp first,” said the man. “No,” said Aladdin, “I won’t give it to you until you help me out.” That made the magician very angry. So, uttering some magic words, he slammed the stone down over the mouth of the cave, and poor Aladdin was shut up alone in darkness. The disappointed boy sat a long time thinking what to do. But suddenly when he happened to rub the ring that the magician had put on his finger and forgotten, in an instant the Slave of the Ring, a queer, little old man, stood before him saying he was ready to do for him whatever he asked. “Then take me out of this cave,” said Aladdin, and instantly he was out. He ran home and showed his mother the lamp. “I will polish it, mother,” he said, “and then we can sell it for much money.” No sooner had he rubbed it than the Slave of the Lamp, a great strong Giant, stood before him, saying that he was ready to do for him whatever he asked. “Then, bring us plenty to eat,” said Aladdin, and instantly richest food on golden plates stood before him. Every time he rubbed the lamp the Slave of the Lamp came and gave him everything he asked. One day, when he became older, he fell in love with a beautiful Princess, and he asked his mother to take several golden vases full of rich jewels as a present to the King and beg him to let the Princess become his wife. The King laughed at such an idea, but said: “If your son will send me forty golden vases like these, full of the richest jewels, he shall have the Princess.” Aladdin quickly rubbed his lamp and asked the Slave of the Lamp to bring him forty golden vases filled with richer jewels than the former ones. The King was so delighted with them that he gave Aladdin the Princess to be his wife, and Aladdin asked the Slave of the Lamp for a grander palace to live in than the King’s. They lived very happily until one day, when Aladdin was away hunting, a strange-looking man came near the palace calling out, “Lamps! Lamps! Who will change old lamps for new ones?” A servant ran to her mistress and said, “Shall I exchange this ugly old lamp I found in the cupboard for a new one?” Without waiting for an answer she took it and sold it to the old pedler, who was really the wicked magician in disguise. So he got the lamp after all. Quickly he rubbed it, and when the Slave of the Lamp appeared, he said, “Transport Aladdin’s palace and all in it to Africa.” Instantly the palace was gone. When Aladdin returned from hunting, the King ordered the poor fellow’s head to be cut off at once, but Aladdin plead for forty days to find out where his palace and Princess had gone. Then he remembered his gold ring. This he quickly rubbed and asked the Slave of the Ring to transport him to his palace. Instantly Aladdin was transported to Africa, and stood in his palace before his Princess, who was in tears because of the wicked magician. Soon after that the Slave of the Ring helped him to get back his wonderful lamp by killing the wicked magician. Then the Slave of the Lamp transported him back to his home with his palace and the beautiful Princess. But Aladdin never again lost his wonderful lamp.

12. BOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS

Once there were three brothers, Peter, Paul, and John. Their father was very poor. One day, being unable to keep them longer, he told them they must go out into the world to earn their own living. Not far from their home lived a King, in front of whose palace-windows a great oak grew, with branches and leaves so thick that the light was shut out of the palace. The King had promised a great fortune to any one who would cut the oak down. Many tried, but the strange thing was, for every chip cut off two new chips took its place, so that the tree grew larger, rather than smaller, and the palace grew darker. The King had promised also to give his daughter and half his kingdom to any one who would dig a well so that he could get pure water for his palace. Many had tried to do this, but the rocks only grew bigger for all their digging and shoveling. When the three brothers heard of this, each said, “I will help the King and get the fortune, the King’s daughter and half the kingdom.” They started off in great expectation, but they had not gone far into the fir woods on the side of a steep hill, until they heard some one hewing and hacking farther up the hill in the wood. “Now, I wonder what that is?” said Jack. “Why, it’s a woodchopper, of course,” the two brothers answered; “you are always wondering about something!” “Still, I’d like to see,” said Jack, and up the hill he went while his brothers sauntered on. Jack soon saw a strange sight—an axe hacking and hewing away all by itself at the root of a great fir tree. “Good morning,” said Jack. “So you stay here all alone and hew, do you?” “Yes,” said the axe, “and here I’ve hewed and hacked a long, long time waiting for you!” “Well, here I am at last,” said Jack, and he put the axe into his bag. When he climbed down the hill and joined his brothers they laughed at him and said, “Well, what did you see?” “The axe that we heard,” Jack answered, but he said nothing more. Farther on they came to a great ridge of rock which ran up the mountainside, and far off they heard something digging and shoveling. “Now, I wonder what that is?” said Jack. “Why, it’s a woodpecker, of course,” answered the brothers; “you are so clever with your wonderings!” “Still, I’d like to see,” said Jack, and up the rock he climbed while his brothers sauntered slowly on. At the top of the rock he saw a strange sight—a spade digging and digging away all by itself. “Good morning,” said Jack. “So you stay here all by yourself and dig, do you?” “Yes,” said the spade, “and here I’ve been digging a long, long time waiting for you.” “Well, here I am at last,” said Jack, and he placed the spade in his bag, and returned to join his brothers, who laughed and said, “Well, what did you see?” “The spade that we heard,” said Jack. So they went along until they came to a brook at which each drank, and then Jack said, “I wonder now, where this water comes from?” “Why, water rises from a spring in the earth,” laughed the brothers. “I’ve a great mind to see where this brook starts from,” said Jack, starting to climb up. At the tiny source of the brook Jack found a walnut, out of which the water trickled. The walnut said, “I have trickled and trickled here many a long day, waiting for you.” “Well, here I am at last,” said Jack, as he filled the little hole in the walnut with moss and placed it carefully in the bottom of his bag and ran down to meet his brothers again. “Well, have you found out where the water comes from?” they said. “Yes,” said Jack, “out of a hole up there.” So they kept making fun of him, until at last they reached the King’s palace. They found the oak bigger and the rock harder than ever, because so many had tried in vain. The King, in discouragement and despair, had said, “Whoever tries and fails now shall have both his ears cut off, and he shall be placed on a desert island.” The three brothers were not afraid. First Peter, and then Paul, tried to chop down the oak and fill the well with water, but instead of the fortune, they got both their ears cut off, and they were sent off to a desert island. Then Jack was ready to try. “If you want to look like a sheared sheep with your two ears cut off, we’re ready for you,” said the King’s servants, really feeling sorry for the young man. But Jack took out the axe and said, “Hew! Hew!” and soon the great oak fell with a crash and great light shone in the palace. Then he took out the spade and said, “Dig! Dig!” and soon the rock broke in two and the well was deeper. Then he pulled out the walnut, took away the moss from the hole, and put the walnut in the well, and the water trickled, trickled so fast that very soon pure water filled the well. So Jack had felled the oak which darkened the palace, removed the rock, and filled the well in the palace-garden with water. Then the King gave him the great fortune, his daughter’s hand in marriage and one-half his kingdom, as he had promised. And the axe, and the spade, and the walnut said: “Those who have ears and will not use them must not complain if they are removed; and are we to blame if we help only those who are ready to use us?”

II
FABLES

(Adapted for Children, Three to Nine Years.)

1. THE BOY AND THE NUTS

One day a selfish Boy saw a jar of nuts. He put his hand into the jar and grasped as many as his hand could hold. As the mouth of the jar was small he could not pull his hand out, so he became frightened and began to cry. “I can’t get my hand out!” he whined. A boy standing near said, “Take only half as many, and you can easily get your hand out!”

2. THE GOOSE WITH THE GOLDEN EGGS

Once there was a man who had a wonderful Goose that laid for him every day a fine golden egg. But the man wanted to get all the golden eggs at once. So he killed the Goose and cut her open, but found she was like all other geese. So he lost the Goose he had because he was so greedy and impatient.

3. THE DOG IN THE MANGER

Once a hungry Cow came to a manger full of hay. But a Dog was lying there, snarling and barking, and would not let the Cow come near the hay. “Mr. Dog,” mooed the Cow, “How selfish you are; you cannot eat the hay yourself, and you will let no one else have any of it.”

4. THE TOADSTOOL AND THE ACORN

In a forest a Toadstool once sprang up in a night. Early the next morning, as soon as the first passer-by touched it with his foot, the Toadstool fell to the earth and its life was ended. A little Acorn grew and grew and grew during more than one hundred years, and it is still standing strong and tall in the forest.

5. THE BOYS AND THE FROGS

One day some boys at play were throwing stones into a pond at some frogs. At last one old Frog peeped up out of the water and said, “Boys, why are you so cruel?” “We are only playing!” shouted the boys. The old Frog croaked back: “It may be fun for you, but remember it is death to us. Do to us as you would like us to do to you.”

6. THE DOVE AND THE ANT

Once a little Ant went down to the river to drink. He fell into the water and began to drown. Just then a Dove, perched on a tree, saw him and quickly dropped down a leaf, which served as a little boat on which the Ant sailed safely to the shore. “Thank you,” said the Ant as he shook his wet feet, “I shall not forget this.” Next day a Hunter was aiming his bow and arrow straight at the Dove when the Ant bit his foot, making the man jump, and the Dove flew away.

7. THE FOX AND THE GRAPES

A Fox who was hungry saw some large, juicy grapes on a vine high up in a tree. “How good they will taste,” said he; “I am going to have some of them.” Then he gave a run and leaped as high as he could, but the grapes were still far above his head. He could not reach them no matter how high he jumped. At last he trotted off in a rage, muttering, “I know those are sour grapes and not worth eating.”

8. THE CROW AND THE PITCHER

Once a Crow who was very thirsty found a pitcher with a little water at the bottom which he was unable to reach. He tried to overturn the pitcher but it was too heavy. “Ah! Ah! I know what I’ll do,” he said. So he gathered up pebbles from the ground, and one after another dropped them into the pitcher until the water gradually reached the top. Then the wise Crow was able to drink all the water he wanted.

9. THE WIND AND THE SUN

One morning the Wind said to the Sun, “I am stronger than you are.” The Sun said, “I know I am stronger than you are.” As they were quarreling over the question a traveler came in sight. So they agreed to decide the matter by seeing which first could make him take off his coat. Then the Wind began blowing, blowing as fiercely as he could. He nearly tore off the traveler’s coat, but the man buttoned his coat up more closely about him, and the Wind had to give up, beaten. Then the Sun, clearing away the clouds, shot his hottest beams down on the traveler’s back, and the man soon threw off his coat. Then the Sun said, “Wind, you make more noise, but, you see, I am stronger.”

10. THE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE WOLF

Once there was a boy who took care of a flock of sheep near a town. One day, when some men were working in the town, they heard the boy call, “Wolf! Wolf! The wolves are among the lambs!” The men ran up to him in great haste, but found no wolf among the lambs at all. The boy had a good laugh, and said, “I only called you for a joke!” He did the same thing two or three times. At last the wolves really came and began carrying off the lambs. The boy cried, “Wolf! Wolf! The wolves are carrying away the lambs!” But the men said, “He can’t fool us again!” So they would not come, and the wolves carried off many of the lambs. The foolish boy lost his place and found out, when too late, that a boy who tells lies, even in fun, may not be believed when he tells the truth.

11. THE LION AND THE FOX

Once an old Lion was sitting at the door of his den when a Rabbit came near. “Good morning, Bunny,” said the Lion, “come in and see my nice den.” “Thank you,” said Bun, and went in, but he did not come out again. Soon a Dog came by. “Come in, friend Doggie,” said the Lion. “Thank you,” said the Dog, and he went in, but he did not come out again. By and by a Fox came along. “Good morning, Mr. Fox,” said the Lion, “come in and see me.” “No, thank you, sir,” said the Fox, “I see the footprints of a Rabbit and a Dog going in, but I see no footprints pointing out.”

12. THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE

One day a Hare stood laughing at the slow pace of the Tortoise, and boasting how swiftly he could run. The Tortoise laughed back cheerfully, “Let us race five miles, and let Mr. Fox be the judge, and decide who beats.” So they got ready, and when the Fox said “One, two, three, go!” off they started. The slow-going Tortoise, jogging along, was soon left far behind by the swift-speeding Hare, who laughed at the fun and said, “I might as well take a nap!” When the Hare awoke he looked up and saw the Tortoise almost at the goal. Running like the wind he reached the goal a few minutes too late. “Oh, oh, my friend,” laughed Judge Fox, “slow and steady wins the race.”

13. ONE GOOD TRICK

Once a Cat and a Fox met in the wood. The Fox said: “I know a hundred different tricks for getting away from hunters’ dogs. How many do you know, Puss?” “I know only one,” said Puss, “and if that fails me I am a dead cat!” “Poor, poor Pussy,” sighed the Fox, “I am sorry for you!” Just then the cries of hunters and barking of dogs were heard. The Fox ran off as fast as he could, trying this trick and that, but the hunters’ dogs soon caught him. The Cat simply sprang up to the top of a tree. That was her one trick, and she was safe. “I see,” said Puss, as she saw the Fox carried off, “one good trick is better than a thousand poor ones.”

14. THE CONCEITED GRASSHOPPER

One day a very young Grasshopper and an old Rooster met out in a field. “I can jump higher than anybody,” chirped the Grasshopper. “All right; let me see you do it,” said the Rooster, at the same time opening his mouth wide as if he meant to yawn. “Here I go, then,” cried the Grasshopper. He jumped so high he landed right in the mouth of the Rooster, who gulped him down. That was the end of the boasting Grasshopper.

15. THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT

Six blind beggars sitting by a roadside as an Elephant passed were told that they might touch it so that they would know what an Elephant was like. The first one touched only the Elephant’s side and said, “He is like a wall!” The second one felt only his tusk and said, “No, no, he is like a spear.” The third took hold of his trunk and said, “He is surely like a snake.” “No such thing,” cried the fourth, grasping one of his legs, “he is like a tree.” The fifth was a tall man and took hold of his ear, and said, “All of you are wrong, he is like a big fan.” The sixth man happened to catch hold of his tail, and cried, “O foolish fellows, he is not like a wall, nor a spear, nor a snake, nor a tree, nor a fan; he is exactly like a rope.” So the Elephant passed on while the six blind men stood there quarreling, each being sure he knew exactly how the Elephant looked, and each calling the others hard names because the rest did not agree with him.

“THOSE WHO PLAY AND DANCE ALL SUMMER MUST EXPECT TO DANCE HUNGRY TO BED IN WINTER”

16. THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER

One warm summer day an Ant was busy gathering food and laying it up for winter. A foolish little Grasshopper who saw him said: “Oh, you poor slave, why do you work so hard? See how I play and enjoy myself! Play and sing with me.” “No, no,” replied the Ant; “if I play now, what shall I have ready for winter?” “Oh, it isn’t winter yet,” said the idle long-legs, as he hopped off again to play. At last the cold, bitter winter came. Then the Grasshopper went to the Ant to beg for some food to keep from starving, but the Ant said, “Those who play and dance all summer must expect to dance hungry to bed in winter.”

17. THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL

Once a Fox went trot, trot, trot, toward a hen-roost to catch a hen. But the farmer had set a trap in which Mr. Fox caught his long, bushy tail, and it came right off. As he trotted back home, ashamed to be seen without his tail, he said: “I know what I will do; I will tell the foxes tails are ugly and useless. Let us cut them off.” So he called all the foxes in council, but he took good care to hold his back against a tree, so they could not see that he did not have a tail. While he was making his speech, urging them to cut off their tails, one little fox peeped behind the tree and cried, “Oh! Oh! he has lost his tail!” Then another fox gave him a push, and as he ran off in shame, all the foxes laughed, “That is why he wanted us to cut off our tails.”

18. THE BOY AND THE ECHO

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” shouted a boy in the woods one day. “Hurrah! Hurrah!” some one shouted back. He thought it must be another boy in the woods, and started off to find him, but no other boy was to be seen anywhere. “Where are you?” he called out. “Where are you?” came back at once. “You are mocking me!” he cried. “You are mocking me,” came again the voice. “You are a goose,” the boy cried, becoming angry. “You are a goose,” came back the same voice. The boy began to cry, and ran home to tell his mother that a bad boy hiding in the woods called him bad names. “Did he speak first or you?” his mother asked. When he explained it all, his mother said: “There was only one boy there, and you were that boy, and what you heard was your echo. If you had spoken kind words, only kind words would have come back to you.”

19. THE CAMEL IN THE TENT

One cold night an Arab sat in his tent, and his Camel asked if he might put his nose inside the tent to keep it warm. “Yes,” said the kind-hearted man. Soon the Camel said, “Please let me put my neck inside,” which his master permitted. “It will take no more room if I put my two front feet inside too, will it?” pleaded the Camel. The man moved a little to allow that. “May I please put my hump in too?” begged the Camel. Then, as soon as his hump was in, the Camel walked in altogether. The Arab began to complain, but the Camel said, “If you do not like this small space, you can go outside yourself.” Then he gave the Arab a push that landed him right out of his tent and stayed inside all by himself. That was the Arab’s reward for allowing the Camel to put his nose inside the tent.

20. THE MONKEY AND THE CATS

Two Cats who had stolen a large piece of cheese were quarreling over dividing it. At last they decided to refer the matter to a Monkey, who took a pair of scales and, breaking the cheese into two pieces, placed a piece in each scale. “Let me see,” he said, taking out the heavier piece, “this piece weighs more than the other.” Then he bit off quite a piece and put it back on the scale, and, of course, it was lighter than the other piece. So he took a mouthful from that side, and continued taking from first one side and then the other, until the Cats cried, “Hold! Hold! Give us the two pieces and we will be satisfied.” “Not so fast,” replied the Monkey, “justice must be given,” and he continued to nibble one piece after another. The Cats saw their cheese was almost gone and begged for what was left. “No, no, my friends,” said the Monkey, “what remains belongs to me for my pay!” So he crammed the rest into his mouth and munched it in hearty enjoyment as he solemnly dismissed the court.