"Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,Nor in the glistering foilSet off to the world, nor in broad Rumour lies,But lives and spreads aloft in those pure eyesAnd perfect witness of all-judging Jove,"
"Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,Nor in the glistering foilSet off to the world, nor in broad Rumour lies,But lives and spreads aloft in those pure eyesAnd perfect witness of all-judging Jove,"
the reviewer did not understand the meaning of the lines, and called the book "a good example of the working, influence, and effect of rumour." On one of our own local papers not long ago there was a review of Mrs. Barr's "Maid of Maiden Lane," which was referred to as the sequel to her "Beau of Orange River." Even in newspapers fortunate enough to command the services of specialists for history and science, and an additional critic for novels, the children's books are hastily noticed, sometimes by the youngest reporter in his spare minutes. In smaller offices the task of reviewing all books falls to the hard-worked editor, who is, like Jacob Riis, also his own "reporter, publisher and advertising agent," but whose sense of literary values is often not in proportion to his knowledge of state politics or local reforms.
It is unfortunate that in the newspapers of as high a class as theOutlook,IndependentandDialthe notices of children's books are often carelessly written, and show the lack of a standard of comparison. In theOutlookfor Nov. 27, 1897, Richard Pryce's "Elementary Jane," a most unchildlike book, is classed among books for children, and "Pansy" and "Elsie" are recommended in other numbers.
In theIndependent,where notices of books for older readers are written with discrimination, Ellis's "Klondike nuggets" is described: "Full of lively adventures and exciting experiences, and is told in a straightforward, off-hand style just suited to the purpose." (Oct. 6, 1898.) There is nothing absolutely untrue in this, but there is nothing to guide a reader in comparing it with better books. One of Alger's heroes is mentioned as "An admirable boy with wonderful ability to take care of himself" (Oct. 20, 1898), and a book by Stratemeyer as "a stirring tale, told with enthusiasm." (Oct. 6, 1898.) Stratemeyer is an author who mixes "would" and "should," has the phraseology of a country newspaper, as when he calls a supper "an elegant affair" and a girl "a fashionable miss," and follows Oliver Optic closely in his plots and conversations.
Mrs. Cheever's "Little Mr. Van Vere of China," with its cheap sentiment and well-worn plot of a stolen child coming to his own at last, is commended as "well made, well illustrated." (Dial,Dec. 6, 1898.) A notice in the religious paper mentioned above says, "He is a thoroughly fascinating little fellow, and his story is told most acceptably." One of Amanda Douglas's tales is spoken of as "A story with a fine moral influence, yet not preachy, in the end leaving in the reader's mind the sense of having been in good company." (Independent,Dec. 15, 1898.)
One notice of "Elsie on the Hudson" is: "The multitude of young people who have read the Elsie books, by Martha Finley, will eagerly welcome this volume by the same author. It has to do with American history in the days of the Revolutionary war, and the style is simple and pleasing." In another: "Miss Martha Finley continues also the instruction which is mixed up with that young woman's experiences." (Dial,Dec. 6, 1898.)
It is, I think, the same periodical, though I have not been able to verify the quotation, which commends Harry Steele Morrison's "Yankee boy's success" thus: "The book is interesting, full of push and go. Boys will read it with a gusto; yet they must remember that what this lucky Yankee boy did is not what they all can do." Another number which puts a just estimate on Master Morrison as a "very unlovely and unpleasant sort of boy, whose impudence and enterprise ought later to fit him for a place on a yellow journal," entirely mistakes the purpose of Pugh's "Tony Drum," a realistic story of London slum life, and classes it as a book for boys. (Dial,Dec. 16, 1898.)
TheOutlooksays of Frances Hodgson Burnett's mawkish "Editha's burglar," which was well parodied inPunchby Anstey in his "Burglar Bill": "This story of the queer, loving little girl and her daring and successful effort to protect her mother, and the equally queer burglar, is too well known in play and story to need comment." (Dec. 10, 1898.) This story is in almost all library and school lists, even the best selected and classified. The same number calls "Mr. Van Vere" "a charming story." (The adjective is used for four different works for young people in that week's grist.)
Even Noah Brooks, in a signed article in theBookbuyer(Dec., 1898), gives praise to Drysdale and Stratemeyer, commends the uninteresting Chilhowee books, refers to Pansy's as "strong and helpful," and one of Amanda Douglas's as "rich in chastened and refined sentiment." He mentions Oliver P. Tunk's "Awful alphabet" as "a fit companion for 'A coon alphabet.'" Perhaps it is, but when libraries and schools are circulating Jane Andrews's "Seven little sisters" to teach the brotherhood and sisterhood of all nations, and teachers, in the language of Professor Thurston, of the Chicago Normal School, are "encouraging each nationality to contribute the best it has of song, story, game, home customs and occupations to the life of the school," it is wrong to buy a book for a white child in which black children are held up to ridicule, as they have been many times inHarper's Young People. "Blackberries" and "Comical Coons" are also recommended in theDial(Dec. 16, 1897), where Gertrude Smith's "Ten little comedies," a book entirely different in spirit from her "Arabella and Araminta" stories; Marion Harland's "Old-field school girl," which has a story ofhorrible cruelty of a schoolmaster to a child, and is not meant for children; the silly "Elaine" book, and the equally silly and sometimes coarse "Father Goose" are favorably reviewed.
TheNation'sreviews of children books have lately not been up to the old standard, as for instance a review of Sydney Reid's would-be funny "Josey and the chipmunk" (Dec. 13, 1900), which is called "a perfectly delightful child's book, nearly as good as the 'Alice' books, and, indeed, might be pronounced quite as good if Lewis Carroll, like Shakespeare, had not 'thought of it first.'"
It will be seen by these instances that reviews help children's librarians very little, and that it is impossible under present conditions for a library to determine the worth of a book without seeing it.
2. There have been in the last 25 years many lists of children's books by libraries, schools, denominational societies and other organizations. The earlier lists, although interesting to a student of the evolution of the Children's Section, have so many books out of print or superseded that they do not concern us now, except in that they are not made for very young children, and often have a profusion of material which is over the heads of boys and girls below, or even in, the high school age. Some of them are made from hearsay or from other book lists, without an intimate knowledge, or indeed any knowledge at all, of books recommended, as in the following instance: A paper read at a library meeting and afterward printed in the report of a state librarian describes the "library ladder" as "a list of books beginning with a tale of adventure. From this the reader's attention will be drawn to the next in order, leading on and out, until finally the child will be unconsciously delving into the mysteries of science; for example, we could first take Butterworth's Indian story, 'The wampum belt': next, Brooks's 'Story of the American Indian'; from this lead to Bancroft's 'Native races,' and finally various United States histories."
Any one who has ever seen the five ponderous volumes of Bancroft's "Native races of the Pacific States" knows that although it has some value as a work of reference, not as a history, for older readers, it is entirely useless as a stepping-stone for children, who can easily go without its aid from Brooks's, or better, Grinnell's "Story of the Indian" to a good one-volume United States history, or even to John Fiske or Parkman. It is no more meant for boys and girls than the other thirty-four volumes on the history of the Pacific coast completed by Bancroft and his corps of assistants.
Some tests of a library or school list are: Are the books in it chosen for their permanent value? Has the maker of the list read them? Will it tell an overworked teacher or librarian what the best modern straightforward stories in simple English are, the best life of Lafayette without any long words like "evacuation," or the best account of a salamander in language that a child of 10 can understand? A list for teachers is not a help in choosing books for children, unless from the point of view of child-study, which has another place than on the shelves of a children's room.
In one list the "Dotty Dimple" and "Flaxie Frizzle" books are recommended for the third-reader grade. Children who are in this grade cannot read the ungrammatical baby-talk easily, and if they could it would demoralize their English.
Another has for the seventh grade a part of the "Library of wonders," translated from the French, and out of date 20 years ago. Teachers should be careful in buying books of popular science that they are modern, and also written in a style that makes them attractive to boys and girls. In a long experience in libraries I have never found that boys and girls liked the "Library of wonders."
A third, for children under 10 years of age, includes Miss Plympton's "Dear daughter Dorothy," and even in one of the best and most recent graded lists it is annotated as a "story of devotion and comradeship between a father and his young daughter." Now "Dear daughter Dorothy" is the best specimen I have ever seen of a kind of book to be kept out of libraries and homes, the story of a little eight-year-old girl, who has the entire control of the $1200 earned yearly by her father, a bookkeeper with literary aspirations. He is arrested on a charge of embezzlement, found guilty in the face of his daughter's testimony, but at last acquitted through the confession of the real criminal, and he and that important little personage, Dorothy, who takes all hearts by storm, sail for England escorted to the ship by a crowd of admiring friends, including the judge who sentenced him.
The next list has Mrs. Burnett's "Little Saint Elizabeth," a morbid tale, and with it a reproduction of "Prince Fairyfoot," a story which the author read when she was a child in a book that she never could find again. In order to understand the pertness and flippancy of her style in this story, one has only to compare it with the original, reprinted within a few months in Frances Browne's "Wonderful chair," or "Granny's wonderful chair," as it is called in one edition. A few lines in the simple, direct English of the old fairy tales, are expanded by Mrs. Burnett into eight or 10 pages, with attempts at wit and allusions to unhappy married life, which should be kept out of books for children.
The same article in theNationwhich gives high praise to "Josey and the chipmunk" thinks "The wonderful chair" prosy, but I have tested it on children who do not enjoy stories unless they are simply told, and have found that it holds their attention.
Books on differences of religious belief, books written in a style or on subjects beyond the years of boys and girls, scientific books that are inaccurate or out of date, books that make children despise their elders, or have an overweening sense of their own importance, and books that are cheap, slangy, flippant, or written in bad English, dialect or baby-talk, should have no place in a school list, and books on poor paper and in poor type and binding should also be kept out. There are books that tell stories of wholesome, well-bred children; fairy tales in the simple, old-fashioned style; out-of-door books that are not dull or aggressively instructive; and selections from the best poetry to choose from. There is room yet for the right kind of histories that are interesting without being babyish, and accurate without being dull.
Lists are often made in entire ignorance of the limitations of the children who are to use the books recommended in them. A well-intentioned paper suggests for children of eight or over Ebers' "Uarda" and Thiers' "French Revolution" as attractive historical works. In science it mentions Hooker's books, which are quite out of date, and in biography Lockhart's Scott and Forster's Dickens, which not one boy or girl in a hundred would read through, great as is their charm. Bryce's "American commonwealth" is also named. This list has either been made up from books that the compiler has heard of as classics, or else she is not in the habit of associating on familiar terms with boys and girls, even of high school age. This paper recommends Sophie May for very young children, and also the "Story of liberty," which a mother in the New YorkTimessays is in the library of her daughter of eight. This is a mother who would not allow a child to read Scott's novels till 14 or 15, and thinks Dickens too sad for even that age!
The hundred books recommended in theSt. Nicholasfor March, 1900, made up from many competing lists, are nearly all good. A few, like Mrs. Richards' "Captain January," Mrs. Wiggin's "The Birds' Christmas Carol," and Munroe's "Through swamp and glade" have no permanent value. If one of Munroe's books is to be included it should be "The flamingo feather," or "Derrick Sterling," both of which are well worth reading many times and are great favorites with children. The defect in the list is the same just spoken of, that too many of the books are for boys and girls from 10 to 14 years old of bookish families, and that little attention is paid to younger or less carefully trained children.
One list puts into the first primary grade, or fourth year of school, for children nine or 10 years old, Abbott's "Cyrus," "Darius," "Xerxes," and other heroes, and Fiske's "War of independence," all of which are entirely beyond the grasp of 499 children out of 500 under 12 or 14. Lists should be shorter, and not too closely divided. A division, "Easy books," should include whatever children need until they can read without difficulty, and should contain books like Longman's adapted stories from the "Blue fairy book" and the earlier volumes of the "Ship" English history, Baldwin's "Fifty famous stories retold"and Eggleston's "Great Americans for little Americans."
In one case where books are not classified by grade, Horace Bushnell's "Woman suffrage," Hinsdale's "President Garfield and education," and Wright's "Industrial evolution of the United States" are in the same class with Emilie Poulsson's "Through the farmyard gate," with no discrimination as to the age for which any one of the four is intended. Three are beyond the understanding of boys and girls below high school age, and if in school libraries should be for teachers only, and the fourth is a book of kindergarten stories.
A book which is often commended by teachers and librarians is Coffin's "Story of liberty," which I said nearly 20 years ago "is so fierce in its Protestantism and so bloody in its details that it causes pain to many a sensitive child." The pictures are too horrible for a child to see, and the book, like any other which wars against any form of religious belief, should not be allowed in a public school.
Some lists admit the "Elsie" books, tearfully sentimental and priggish, where the heroine is held up as a saint and martyr for refusing to obey an entirely reasonable request of her father, and where money, fine clothes, and love-making at an early age hold too prominent a place.
In one list, one of Mayne Reid's books is annotated, "To read carefully any volume of this author is to acquire a considerable knowledge of the trees, the flowers, the animals, the insects, and the human creatures existing in the region where the story takes place." In Mayne Reid's "Desert home" maple sugar trees are tapped in the autumn and yield nearly a hundred pounds of sugar. Emerson's "Trees and shrubs of Massachusetts" states that although sap will flow in summer and early autumn, it has but little saccharine matter. Mayne Reid's stories as stories are delightful for children to read, but should never be used as aids to geography lessons.
One library offers its boy-and-girl readers Bushnell's "Moral uses of dark things," Mrs. Campbell's "Problems of poverty," Ely's "Labor movement in America" and Shinn's "Mining camps."
The lists made by James M. Sawin, of Providence, are good and suggestive, but better for older than younger children, including, however, for beginners in reading some excellent old favorites like Mrs. Follen's "Twilight stories," and for children a little older a book that ought to be in print, Paul de Musset's "Mr. Wind and Madam Rain."
The Milwaukee list for children under 10 is good for the most part, but includes "Dear daughter Dorothy" and "Editha's burglar."
Mrs. Whitney's list of "Books not usually selected by young people" (first published in theBulletin of Bibliography) is for the most part beyond the grammar-school age, including such books as Sismondi's "Literature of the south of Europe" and Ragozin's "Vedic India." It is unclassified, good and not too American.
The Buffalo Public Library lists are the best that I have found, thoroughly practical, well chosen, and in the pamphlet entitled "Classroom libraries for public schools" well graded as far as one can judge. The grading of schools varies so much in different cities that it is impossible unless one knows exactly what "four" or "eight" or "nine" represents to say whether books are suitable for it. A list of this kind cannot be made without a thorough understanding between librarian and teachers, a thorough knowledge of the condition of the schools and the home-life of the children on the part of the librarian, and a knowledge of books on the part of the teachers.
The graded and annotated list from the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh is for teachers, not children, and has many suggestive notes, but will bear weeding.
Many lists are almost entirely American, and seem at first sight narrow and one-sided. A little thought and knowledge of the conditions under which they are made shows the cause of this apparent fault. City lists are made for schools which are full of children of newly-arrived emigrants, whose first desire, as soon as they can read English at all, is to know something of the great free country to which they have come. It is to supply this demand that many simple United States histories and historical stories relating to this country have been put upon the market in the last five years, almost to the exclusion of other books of the kind. Teachers and librarians should remember in making lists thatthere are other countries in the world, and good histories of them, like Longmans' "Ship" series.
The books suggested by public library commissions are usually published in this country, partly for the reasons that it is easier to find them, that they are cheaper than imported books, and that they are in demand in small libraries. The New York State Library lists are of this kind, and the books for children are carefully chosen as far as they can be from this country alone.
With regard to scientific books for children, the Springfield (Mass.) City Library has printed a short list of books on science and useful arts that children really enjoy. This list has been prepared by the children's librarian in connection with the supervisor of science in the Springfield public schools and an out-of-town librarian. The list is the best I have seen, but is open to criticism on account of one or two of the books being out of date. The list for third-grade teachers compiled by Miss May H. Prentice for the Cleveland Library is excellent for supplementary reading and nature-stories and poems.
3. The value of articles on children's reading is variable, but a fair specimen may be found in theContemporary Reviewfor June, where H. V. Weisse states in his "Reading for the young" that a generation ago the number of published books was small, magazines were high in tone, and in the realm of juvenile literature Ballantyne was "monarch of all he surveyed." On account of the limited supply of children's books, boys and girls were thus driven to standard authors. "Now magazines and so-called 'historical stories' are issued in such quantities that young people read nothing else. They should be trained to better things, and teachers and mothers should read to their children and see that they read good books for themselves, if need be rewarding for a clear reproduction of the sense of any good book, never punishing for a failure to understand, at first hearing or reading, that which involves 'a new form of mental effort.'" We have all heard something like this before! Even Agnes Repplier, with her charm of style and her denunciation of the "little Pharisee in fiction," and the too-important Rose in Bloom in contrast to the well-kept-under Rosamond, makes few suggestions of books which are good for children to read.
The reading lists in the New YorkTimesare based on the experience of the writers, who have often been precocious, over-stimulated children of bookish families without companions of their own age, and have no idea of the needs, wants and limitations of the public library children of to-day, many of whom have few or no books at home. "I have quite a library," wrote one such child. "I have three books, Longfellow's poems, a geography, and a book of fairy tales."
A dreamy boy like "The child in the library" of a recentAtlantic Monthlyand the keen little newsboy who snatches a half hour after school is over and he has sold his papers to spell out a simple life of Columbus or the "Story of the chosen people" have little in common, and need different books, but they both need the very best of their kind.
A book reviewer or maker of book lists for children should have an intimate knowledge of the best books which have been written for them, and the unconscious training which this knowledge gives in good taste and a critical sense of style. He (or she) should have also the intimate knowledge of all sorts and conditions of children and their limitations that a teacher or a settlement worker or a wise mother has. More than 20 years ago, in the meeting of the American Library Association in Boston, Mrs. Kate Gannett Wells said: "I would like to have mothers prepare lists, whose headings should vary from any yet given; such as: books that make children cry; books of adventure for unexcitable and unimaginative children; unlovesick novels."
The best reviews of children's books ever writtenin this country were the work of a woman and a mother—Lucy McKim Garrison, who, in the earlier volumes of theNation,put into her work broad-mindedness, high ideals, and an understanding of children. It is such work as this that should be a model for the reviewers and a guide to the librarians of to-day, and one of the most important duties of the Children's Section is to insist upon higher standards, both in reviewers and through them in the writers of children's books, and upon trained critical knowledge in the makers of children's lists.
I. FICTION, II. FAIRY TALES, III. SCIENCE.
It seems to have been fairly demonstrated that we have as yet no proper standard of values to guide us in the selection ofchildren'sbooks. Reviews fail: they either do not evaluate the book at all, or they lack appreciation of it or of the children who are to read it—or both. Book lists fail, as a rule, through eagerness to get something printed before we know what to print. Articles upon children's reading fail because the people who have written them are not always familiar with children's books or are not acquainted with the "public library child." We turn to the books themselves, but, having no standard of values, how shall we judge? How are we to know whether a book is good or poor?
It is not possible to reduce the appreciation of literature—whether books for children or for all time—to an exact science. It is difficult to conceive of any formula for the evaluation of books in general or the books of a particular class which would not fail again and again when applied to the individual book through the medium of a personal judgment. We shall not attempt, therefore, to answer the questions which form the substance of our topic. We have endeavored merely to state a question which to all children's librarians seems to be of paramount importance, trusting that we may eventually reach a partial solution of this problem by bringing the thought of many minds to bear upon it.
This collective paper, or, more properly, this collection of ideas upon different classes of books, requires a word of explanation. The contributors were not asked to prepare papers but to furnish ideas and opinions, which should form the basis for discussion of the general principles of selection and of individual books in the several classes considered. The purpose was to present briefly the principles that should apply in each class, and to emphasize these by citation of specific books.
I.FICTION.
We were recently asked to make out a list of a dozen books suitable as prizes for a Sunday-school class of boys and girls from 12 to 16 years of age. We studied a long and carefully prepared list of stories written for girls of this age and supposed to include what was most desirable. Assuming that the girls had read Mrs. Whitney and Miss Alcott, we did not consider them, and we found not one story which we could recommend as possessing permanent interest and literary value. There were many books which girls read and like but they did not reach a fair standard for this purpose. We filled out the desired number for the girls with books written for older readers. Far different was our experience with the books for the boys. It was only a matter of choice between a large number, both suitable and desirable, and yet the lists which we consulted had been compiled by the same hand.
In making selections of books for her readers, the children's librarian encounters at the first step this difference in the quality of the books written for boys and those written for girls. Judged purely by the standard of taste, she must reject the greater proportion of those written for girls. When she finds so few that reach her standard she may blame herself for ignorance of the better books, but she must ultimately reach the conclusion that whatever her own shortcomings there is a lack of desirable books for girls. However, another most important factor comes into the case on the reader's side of the question. If the librarian is going to meet the needs of her readers she must understand what they are instinctively seeking in books, and she must enlist herself on the side of human nature. She will find at once that a distinct division in the reading of boys and girls springs from the fact that, generally speaking, the mental life of the boy is objective, that of the girl subjective. The boy seeks actionin fiction, the girl is attracted by that which moves her emotionally or relates itself directly to her own consciousness, and the last thing that either of them cares about is the literary value of the book. Hundreds—no doubt thousands—of our college graduates look back to the period when, according to their sex, the "Oliver Optic" series, or the "Elsie Dinsmore" series, played a very important part in their existence. The love of adventure in the boy gave the charm to the books. Adventure he must have, whether he finds it in the tinsel setting of Oliver Optic or the refined gold of Robert Louis Stevenson. And the magnet in the nature of the girl draws to herself something helpful even from Martha Finley; otherwise, she would not speak of the "Elsie" books as "beautiful": there is something in them which to her represents "beauty." Nevertheless, while justly condemning the Oliver Optic and the Elsie books as cheap, tawdry things, the librarian must seek among better authors the holding quality on the nature of the child which these books possess. She must search for books in which these elements of interest are incarnated in what we call literature—books which, while rivalling these in attraction, will at the same time refine and broaden the taste of the reader.
Now, the lovers of Oliver Optic and Mrs. Finley do not take kindly to the classics and as, in the modern stories for young people, few will pass muster as literature, all that the librarian of to-day can do is to use her judgment and discrimination among those the writers have provided. The boys are readily turned from Oliver Optic to Henty, Tomlinson, Jules Verne, and on to "Ivanhoe," but with the girls the case is hard. The girl tells us that she likes stories about boarding-school. It is a capital subject: in the hands of a writer sympathetic with girls, of fertile imagination and vigorous power of characterization, boarding-school life affords material for most entertaining combinations—but the literature of the boarding-school has yet to be written. The average boarding-school story has three main characters—the attractive, impulsive heroine, always getting into trouble; the cruel, cold-blooded, unscrupulous rival, habitually dealing in falsehood, and the teacher who is singularly devoid of discernment or intuition. The heroine inevitably falls into the snare of the rival, and things are usually set right all around by a death-bed scene—although actual death is sometimes averted. "Louie's last term at St. Mary's" is one of the better stories of this kind, and Mrs. Spofford's "Hester Stanley at St. Mark's" is fairly well written, with a touch of the charm of the author's personality. "Chums," by Maria Louise Pool, is one of the worst of its kind, where envy, hatred, and malice run riot through the pages and the actors in the story are wholly lacking in vitality. The experiences of Miss Phelps's "Gypsy Breynton" and Susan Coolidge's "Katy" are as satisfactory pictures of boarding school life as we have; and Helen Dawes Brown's "Two college girls" is a good story. "Brenda, her school and her club," by Helen L. Reed, is a recent valuable addition to books for girls.
In stories of home life Miss Alcott still easily takes the lead, with Susan Coolidge and Sophie May following in merit and popularity. The boys have an excellent story of home life in Rossiter Johnson's "Phaeton Rogers." The setting is perfectly simple, every day surroundings, but the characters have the abounding vitality that keeps things moving. The entertaining succession of events proceeds directly and naturally from the ingenuity and healthy activity of the young people grouped together. The book is a model in this respect as well as in the use of colloquial English which never loses a certain refinement. Every boy, while reading "Phaeton Rogers," finds himself in touch with good companions—and this is true as well, in Charles Talbot's books for boys and girls.
The most important books for boys are the historical stories, appealing at once to the hero worship and the love of adventure common to boyhood; at the same time they should give a good general idea of history. The story in historical setting is, also, most desirable for girls—in that it balances the too subjective tendency; it carries the mind of the reader beyond the emotional condition of the heroine—indeed the heroine has no time to study her own emotions when brought intovital relation with stirring events. Apart from the value of the historical facts imparted is the indirect but more valuable habit of mind cultivated in the girl reader. Vivid, stirring, absorbing stories for girls can be and should be written in this field, which is practically unlimited. Miss Yonge has done some good service here. "The prince and the pauper" and the "Last days of Pompeii" are also illustrations of the kind of work that should be done—they are both strong in the direct interrelation between the imaginary characters and real history—and both appeal alike to the boy and the girl.
Books written with a direct moral purpose seldom achieve popularity with boys—and yet one of the most popular of all their books is "Captains courageous," which is of the highest moral value though without one line of religious preaching in its pages. Here the boys are in touch with a real, living character, acted upon and developed, through the moulding pressure of life itself—from first to last the aim of the story is the boy; and yet the moral outcome is simple, natural, inevitable and manly; it appeals to the common sense which is strong in boys.
Now when a woman writes for girls on the subject of the transformation of a frivolous butterfly into a girl of sense, instead of giving us character and action with a moral outcome, we have a religious setting with the action of the story and the conduct of the characters bent in every direction to illustrate the motive of the story—the religious idea.
The plastic nature of the young girl wrought upon by life, fresh faculties brought into activity by the hard knocks of fate or the sunbursts of good luck—although these things are happening every day in the real life of young girls, we yet await the writer who will put them into literature without sentimentalizing. What we want is the novel simplified; the story told directly, without byways of description or analysis; where healthy young people, neither saints nor prigs, nor creatures of affectation, jealousy, or malice, are acted upon by life and each other in a natural fashion.
Let boys and girls be brought together as in real life; brothers are a good element in girls' stories, and love affairs need not be excluded, if handled with delicacy, common sense and true feeling. Many books classed as novels are merely stories simply and clearly told, intended for older readers, but far better for young girls than the stories usually written for them. Miss Jeanie Gould Lincoln's stories and Mrs. J. G. Austin's historical novels, some of Mrs. Barr's and Mrs. Oliphant's novels and a wide range of other interesting, well-told stories can be substituted, if care and discrimination are used in the selection. Fortunately, too, many girls of twelve are ready for Dickens and other standard writers.
However it is not only through the emotions that these aspirations and desires are ministered to—when the writer can develop this emotion into spiritual enthusiasm—or when she portrays a character of active spiritual force, she has put something valuable into the life of the reader. Here, as always, it is the personality of the writer—the soul back of the words that most counts, and it is just this quality of true spirituality which gives value to Mrs. Whitney's stories, in spite of their wordiness, lack of proportion and forced symbolism; as it is the genuine goodness and pure idealism of Miss Mulock which forms the very atmosphere in which her characters move.
While it is impossible to offer a practical guide to the selection of books a few suggestions can be made. In the religious stories, for instance, there must be discrimination between those encouraging morbid self-examination or religious sentimentalizing, and those cultivating optimism and the perception of true values and ideals.
In books of adventure the dividing line would fall between, on the one side, those stories where the hero is actuated by pure love of adventure or where the adventure is worth while in itself—as in "Foul play"; and, on the other side, those stories where the hero is merely seeking to exploit himself and in which the tendency might be to incite boys to reckless escapades for the sake of notoriety.
In thepurchaseof books one must consider the range of the average reader, but inrecommendingbooks to the individual boy and girl, appreciation of differences in temperament and culture is indispensable.
Winifred L. Taylor,Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, N. Y.
II.FAIRY TALES.
Fairy tales must appeal to the love of the marvellous, and must yet be told with a simplicity that precludes all doubt of their reality in the mind of the child, no matter how improbable the circumstances to our prosaic minds. The language must be simple and dignified. To write a fairy tale, one must first of all be a poet, at least must have the poetic instinct. The child very early absorbs the idea of rhyme. He is sung to sleep with cradle songs, and soothed by jingles, and he does not soon outgrow their influence.
These tales from the librarian's standpoint, fall naturally into two classes: the folklore legends adapted for children (in which, regardless of classification, we include mythological tales) and the purely literary, imaginative story.
Fairy tales derived from folk-lore.
Fairy tales derived from folk-lore—stories drifted down from the childhood of the world, were not originally written for children, and perhaps for this very reason, they have claimed them for their own. They are not "the artless appeals to all little masters and misses who are good or intend to be good" of John Newbery's time. They have a naturalness which these first books printed especially for children lack; the moral is not too strongly urged. Different versions of the old, old tales reflect in a measure the manners and customs of the country in which they are collected. Fairies are stolid or clever, mischievous or amiable, according to the characters of the people to whom the stories were told.
To this class belong the Grimm brothers' "Household tales," "Icelandic tales," edited by Mrs. A. W. Hall (tales in which it is the princess or the peasant maiden who rescues the prince, instead of being rescued); the Norwegian tales of Asbjörnsen and Moë, the Grimm brothers of the far North. The collections of Lang, Baring-Gould; and Cruikshank, because of illustrations; Miss Mulock's "Book of fairies" and William Canton's "True annals of fairyland" should be in all libraries.
Collections of tales derived from Greek and Roman mythology, such as Kingsley's "Heroes," Hawthorne's "Wonder book" and "Tanglewood tales," may also be considered as fairy tales derived from folk-lore.
One of the most exquisitely told of the old Greek fairy tales is that of "Eros and Psyche," adapted by Paul Carus from Apuleius. The story appeals to children, regardless of the religious significance indicated in the preface of the book.
"Fairy tales from far Japan," translated by Susan Ballard, is excellent, particularly the story of the "Magic mirror," which is also found in a charming set of booklets published in Tokio, in English. This set is called the "Japanese fairy tale series," the type, paper and colored illustrations being all of Japanese manufacture.
"Fairy stories from the little mountain," by John Finnemore, is a good collection of Welsh stories as is Frere's "Old Deccan days" of Indian folk-lore.
"Wigwam stories," edited by Mary Catherine Judd, are told by Indians, or adapted from ethnological reports and original sources.
Mabie's "Norse stories retold from the Eddas," Keary's "Heroes of Asgard," "The wonder-world stories" of Marie Pabke and Margery Deane, Scudder's "Book of folk tales" and Wiltse's "Folk-lore and proverb stories," both of the latter for the youngest readers, the Countess d'Aulnoy's fairy tales, the collections of Laboulaye and the immortal tales of Perrault, we cannot afford to be without, as well as Howard Pyle's "Wonder clock" and "Pepper and salt," which retain the old-time flavor and are much enhanced by the author's illustrations.
Literary fairy tales.
Hans Christian Andersen's stories, while based often upon tradition, are excluded by Hartland from the list of pure fairy tales and classed as literary. Yet even the old, old fairy tales cannot, with justice, rival his in the hearts of the children. Their feeling for him has been expressed by John White Chadwick, in writing of another:
"But as I muse, I seem at heaven's doorTo hear a sound which there I heard before.When Danish Hans that way did softly wend—A sound of children making merriest dinOf welcome, as the old man entered in."
"But as I muse, I seem at heaven's doorTo hear a sound which there I heard before.When Danish Hans that way did softly wend—A sound of children making merriest dinOf welcome, as the old man entered in."
Mary S. Claude, in "Twilight thoughts," has shown herself a graceful follower in the footsteps of Andersen. Such stories create a tenderness for plants and animals not easily effaced.
It detracts nothing from the interest of the story that what a child calls a fairy tale we call literature. Even Dr. Johnson recognized that "babies do not want to hear about babies." It is a great pity that a child should never meet the knights of the Round Table, or the Charlemagne legends—half history, half romance—or the Homeric tales, outside the dissecting room of a literature class. Small wonder that a child who heard them there for the first time should exclaim with considerable animus, "I like to read, but I hate literature."
Here is a good field for the "story hour" so successfully introduced in the Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh. That edition which follows most closely the original, or is told in graphic clear-cut English, such as Morris uses in the "Earthly paradise" or the "Life and death of Jason," or Butcher and Lang's translation of the Odyssey, is the best. Such a version read aloud is infinitely better than the best dilution by any well-meaning attendant. Skip judiciously, but do not weaken the story. It is not only the plot but the charm of style which we wish to introduce. The argument may of course first be given, that the child be put in sympathy with the situation.
Modern fairy tales.
A good modern fairy tale is a rare article. One may search far and long before finding it. If it is not worth reading twice, it is not worth reading once. In many of these modern tales there is an atmosphere of haste wholly lacking in the good old tales. Fairyland has a government of its own, where neither time nor space has value. It lies "east of the sun and west of the moon."
One of the best collections is "Granny's wonderful chair," by Frances Browne—in the American edition "The wonderful chair." It is well written, the interest is well kept up, and the language is befitting the subject. The surest way to test a poor fairy tale is to first read one ofunquestionablemerit, and to get thoroughly into its atmosphere.
Good modern fairy tales.
"Princess Ilse," by Marie Petersen; a gracefully told story of a discontented mountain brook.
"Mopsa the fairy," by Jean Ingelow, and "The little lame prince," by Dinah Maria Craik.
"Lob-lie-by-the-fire," by Mrs. Ewing, and "At the back of the North wind" and "The Princess and Curdie," by George Macdonald.
The average modern fairy tale is a jumble of impossibilities, with no continuity of incident, well enough or poorly written, according to the ability of the writer.
"The magic fruit garden," by Marion Wallace Dunlop, is an illustration of this kind. Two very small children, in abbreviated pinafores, are studying their Monday lessons; one is writing an essay on Perseverance, the other is copying geographical names. By the illustrations, one may judge the children to be of kindergarten age. It is not surprising that they fall asleep, and, to dreamland sent, meet with adventures enough to make the strongest head whirl—a case of literary delirium tremens.
"Snow garden," by Elizabeth Wordsworth, is on the whole a good collection; the stories, however, are of unequal merit.
"The other side of the sun," by Evelyn Sharp, is of negative goodness. The witches and wizards are mild and amiable, especial care evidently being taken that no child should be kept awake at night. It does no harm for children occasionally to shiver and shake as poor Hans in the Grimm collection longed to do. The author's satisfaction at the expression the "wymps wimpled" is insisted upon a little too frequently.
"Fairy folk of Blue Hill," by Lily F. Wesselhoeft, is of especial interest to children about Boston, since it accounts for the granite quarries and pudding stone of the region. It is smoothly written and is not spoiled by slang or pertness.
"Summer legends," by Rudolph Baumbach. The stories are not altogether fairy tales nor are they written for the youngest readers. They are gracefully written although they lose somewhat by translation. The book is in some parts amusing and all the stories are peopled with the wonderful creatures of fairyland.
Other tales seem invented only for the purpose of forcing religious sentiment, or pointing a moral in inverse proportion to the size of the reader. Their authors seem sometimes to have reached Mark Twain's conclusion that "every one being born with an equal amount of original sin, the pressure on the square inch must needs be greater in a baby."
"Pixie and Elaine stories," by Carrie E. Morrison, is a mixture of fairy tale and religious story. The author speaks in her preface of the stories having been carefully pruned. One shudders at thinking what they must have been before, with such chapters as "The Elaines' picture of heaven," and "The pixie transforms an Elaine" left in.
"New book of the fairies," by Beatrice Harraden, is marred by the suggestion of cruelty to animals. In one story, in place of rubbing the Aladdin lamp, that what one wishes may happen, one must pull the black cat's tail. It is gratifying to reflect that black cats have their own peculiar method of retaliation for such experiments.
Burlesque fairy tales.
Burlesque fairy tales are the most atrocious of all. They are apt to be broad in their humor, full offin de sièclejokes or puns, and modern allusions which mar the poetry of the tale if there is any in it, and create an appetite for facetiousness in books. "Lips wagging, and never a wise word," one is tempted to say with Ben Jonson.... Copyright fees should be trebled on this class of books.
Under this head come:
"The book of dragons," by E. Nesbit.
"Here they are!" by James F. Sullivan; full of modern allusions and puns.
"The pink hen,"by Cuthbert Sterling; a sort of "continuous performance." The pink hen is hatched from a forgotten Easter egg, is driven from the barnyard by her associates and forced to seek her fortune. She links her fate with that of a little girl who has escaped from an ogre, and together they redeem a prince from the curses of bad fairies. The pink hen is continually punning, and the prince while still in the cradle is addicted to smoking.
It is hard to tell how the author of Jewett's "More bunny stories" would classify them. We hope not as fairy tales. They are poor from any point of view. The bunnies might as well be ordinary children as anything. They go to lawn parties, play golf, dance the Virginia reel, go to West Point, tell folk-lore stories, repeat Bible verses and say their prayers. We are sometimes asked for a Sunday book. For one who must have a special book for that day, this might possibly answer; it is certainly full of moral reflections and pious sentiment; but there is no reason at all for reading it on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday. The story closes with a wedding where the happy bunnies are united under a bridal bell, while the strains of the march from "Lohengrin" float in the air.
Humor is not early developed in all children, which is perhaps why a great many do not care for "Alice in Wonderland," and for Stockton's fairy tales—"The bee man of Orn," "The griffin and the minor canon," etc.
Laura E. Richards' "Chop-chin and the golden dragon" must also be classed as humorous. It is not as good as the Toto stories.
Animal folk-lore.
Animal folk tales as exemplified in Joel Chandler Harris's stories, "Little Mr. Thimble-finger," "Mr. Rabbit at home," "Daddy Jake," "Uncle Remus," "Story of Aaron," etc., are excellent. Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit, the black stallion and all the animal characters are quite as much realities to the children as Buster John, Sweetest Susan and the Little Master.
Ortoli's "Evening tales," follows the same general line.
Kipling, too, in the "Jungle books" has won the hearts of the children, and here there is no hint of the "garlic flavor," mentioned by Higginson.
Fraser's "Mooswa" also belongs to this class.
A common practice in modern fairy stories is for the author to open the tale in this way: A child falls asleep and enters fairyland via the dream country. Often the child has been sent to bed for some misdemeanor, as in the "Dream fox story book," by Mabel Osgood Wright, or has fallen asleep over his tasks, as in the case of the "One-eyed griffin," by Herbert E. Inman, the fairy tales being offered by way of consolation; a reprehensible practice in itself, besides putting one out of touch with the real fairyland. It is too conspicuously "make believe" and leads one to suspect that the author has little confidence in hisown production. As "good wine needs no bush," so a good fairy tale needs no introduction or apology. In the real fairyland one cannot easily be ungraceful.
Nature fairy tales.
Nature fairy tales are more than apt to be failures, and often include a great deal of pertness and cheap talk, in their effort to teach by stealth. (Charles Lamb writes to Coleridge in regard to Goody Two Shoes in this way: "Think what you would have been now, if, instead of being fed with tales and old wives' fables, you had been crammed with geography and natural history.")
A conspicuous example of the faults of this class of story is found in "Sylvia in flowerland," by Linda Gardner. The heroine is introduced as a high-school girl, well-advanced in Latin and mathematics, and amply able to supplement very largely the information which the flowers give her about themselves. Linda strolls into the fields and is told all sorts of facts about the habits of plants by the flowers. The story where the author forgets to interject puns is interestingly told, certainly enough so to attract a girl of fourteen, who has any fondness for flowers. Besides the numerous puns, such glaring sentences as the following, condemn it. "I don't know who you mean." "Why it is a nasty nettle"! said Sylvia. "Nasty, yourself," ejaculated the nettle sharply, "why do you come shoving against me?"
McCook's "Old farm fairies," gives what Mrs. Malaprop calls "a supercilious knowledge" in its attempt to interest children in insect life, by introducing different insects in the form of pixies, brownies and fairies. While it has not the faults of "Sylvia in flowerland," the information is mainly crowded into footnotes and appendices, which as a rule are carefully avoided by children.
Mabel Osgood Wright's "Tommy Anne" and "Wabeno" are more successful; but the same amount of energy spent in making the facts of nature interesting in themselves would be preferable.
While not assuming an absolute censorship in this department, the principle of natural selection may be applied in discarding such books as are characterized by the faults here cited, that we may do our share towards discouraging a taste for facetiousness, flippancy and poor style in literature. For while these modern, sham, soulless fairy tales soon lose themselves in the overwhelming mass of printed matter, in their brief existence they have time to accomplish considerable harm. Far better to encourage re-reading the imperishable tales, than to gratify an insatiable desire for more. Did not we ourselves again and again shed fresh tears over Cinderella's hard fate, or gasp with bated breath while watching with Sister Ann for that distant speck on the horizon? If children are different to-day, it is partly because we are helping to make them so.
Abby L. Sargent,Medford(Mass.)Public Library.
III.SCIENCE FOR CHILDREN.
In the selection of books for children's libraries it is necessary to understand the difference between the aims and methods of the old education and the new.
Until recently the schools have centered their work about man, studying his language, literature, methods of reasoning, and the manner in which he has partitioned off the earth into countries. No importance whatever was attached to his physical surroundings, which form so great a factor in his life and by which he is so profoundly affected. In history, the study of dates, battles and leaders was all that was required. In geography, the work was almost exclusively confined to a description of the earth, the location of mountains, rivers, cities, and political divisions. Before the establishment of the national Weather Bureau there was scarcely any public interest manifested in the phenomena of the atmosphere and its relation to various weather elements. Many of us can recall from our own experience the picture of the earth divided into zones, but why such a division was made did not come up for consideration.
What are we now aiming to do for the child? We are looking beyond the mere cultivation of memory; and we desire to increase the child's point of contact with the world, to bring him into closer relationship with the life about him, to broaden his sympathies and to develop the powers of observation and reason. In so far as we are able to accomplish these results, we shall make himhappier by enabling him to understand the great laws that govern the universe. The child is learning that the facts of history are the results of causes, that they are the working out of great principles and that by the comparison of the past with the present he may be able to judge of the future. From a study of the physical features of the earth he learns that slopes determine the course of rivers and that cities are dependent for their growth upon physical environment. The consideration of the weather enables him to understand the state of the atmosphere about him, its effect on climate, the cause of storms, and the different action of solar energy on air, land, and water, which renders possible life upon the earth. Science demands an investigation of the growth and habits of plants and animals, the relationship of one form to another, the function and adaptation of parts, the effect of surroundings, while form and structure are results, not ends.
We want to lead the child from results back to causes. The possession of a vast number of facts, unrelated among themselves, is valueless and even harmful, for the child does not look upon nature as a whole. Nature-study, perhaps more than any other subject, leads the child into sympathy with his environment. He observes carefully and thoughtfully and thus the individual is developed. From personal contact with nature he gains the power of accurate observation, correct thinking and judgment; thus strengthening his moral character. If this is the effect of nature-study upon the development of the child, the question comes to the librarian—What principles shall guide me in the selection of books that the library with which I am connected may be of assistance in accomplishing these results, and meet the demand of modern education?
A book for children should be attractive. The exterior should present a harmony of color and tasteful decoration. The text should be printed with clear type upon good paper and should be well illustrated. Colored plates are preferable, provided the coloring is good, otherwise uncolored illustrations are far more desirable. The text should be clear, simple, and scientifically correct.
The new scientific book differs from the old. The old style book gave dead results, no sympathy in or interest for life was aroused, no suggestions were given for first-hand observations of nature, consequently the book failed to stimulate a desire for personal investigation that could be verified by the recorded work of others. The new scientific book not only gives results but a detailed account of the methods employed in obtaining those results. The reader is interested in trying the same experiments, gains a sympathy and interest in the wonderful life history of a plant, bird, or insect, develops a tenderness for life and feels that all nature is a sympathetic unit.
Within the last few years the interest that has been aroused throughout the country in "nature-study," has caused a great demand for this class of books. Writers and publishers have hastened to meet the demand and as a result the market has been flooded with books that were made to sell. Too often the writers have not been scientific persons, and as a result the books have been mere compilations, or were not true to facts. They lacked the true spirit of science. Other authors have not separated the element of fiction from that of science, thinking that the child could only be interested in nature by means of a story. The writer of this paper does not believe that science books should be made story books. "Tenants of an old farm," by McCook, is a good illustration of the combination of the science and story element. The author is a naturalist and whatever facts are presented may be accepted as being as nearly correct as it is possible to make them since they represent the results of careful personal observation. The author himself did not believe that the truths of nature were so unattractive that they needed to be woven into a story in order that the book might find its way to the general reader. Then why did he employ this method? He was persuaded by his friends to change the original plan of the book and presented it, after much hesitation, in its present form. The book has thereby lost much of its usefulness.
Another element that many authors have employed to a greater or less extent is personification. That the value of a book is lessened thereby and its power over the reader greatly decreased, is beyond question. Theremay be some excuse for a limited amount of personification in the treatment of bees, wasps, or ants, but the majority of forms of plant and animal life does not need the human factor in order to make clear life-relationships. Grant Allen, in his "Story of the plants," has described the use of the stamens and pistils as "how plants marry" and the modes of fertilization as "various marriage customs." Allen Gould, in "Mother Nature's children," speaks of the "snakehead" fish and its young as "Mr. and Mrs. Snakehead and their babies" and of the seed-vessels of plants as "ways the mother plants have of cradling their babies." This method of treating nature's truths does not make the facts any clearer to the child; it only tends to diminish the grandeur of that truth. Some writers have considered it desirable to embody the thought in terms that are already, or are supposed to be, familiar to the child, that he may be able to grasp the truth. The author forces upon the child a double task, since he must first get the thought as it appears and then search for the concealed fact. This process is not liable to be successful. Mrs. Dana, in "Plants and her children," uses the term "sweet stuff" for nectar, "watery-broth" for the cell-sap of plants. The food of plants is spoken of as the "plant's bill of fare," and inexpressingthe fact that the crude sap which is taken up by the roots needs to be converted into elaborated sap before it may be used as food, she says "When the watery broth is cooked in the sun, the heat of the sun's rays causes the water to pass off through the little leaf mouths. Thus the broth is made fit for plant food." Must not the child possess some scientific knowledge before he will be able to understand the author's meaning? "Plants and her children" is a valuable book, but would not its merits be greatly enhanced if the scientific facts were told in simple language? They certainly have interest enough in themselves to be attractive to the child. Books like Hooker's "Child's book of nature" should be discarded. They represent the old scientific thought. No sympathy or interest in life is aroused, no relationships are suggested, no adaptation to environment is shown, no incentive is given for personal observation. Why should we cling to the old when a book can be obtained that will more nearly satisfy our needs?
There is often a great difference in the individual merits of books by the same author. Mabel Osgood Wright's "Birdcraft" is valuable, while "Tommy Anne and the three hearts" and "Wabeno" are the reverse. The last two represent a type of book that should not be included in a science library. The fairy and story element so greatly exceeds the scientific as to render the books absolutely valueless, nor are they a success from a literary standpoint. No book in which the author wanders from one subject to another, in such rapid succession that the reader has difficulty in following the thought, or is so vague that an effort must be made to understand the topic treated, can be of much practical value. The greater number of the Appleton's "Home reading books" possess little merit. The selections were not written for children; they lack simplicity, are not attractive and are too technical. The article "The life of plants" in "Plant world" would require two or three readings by an adult in order to understand what the author was discussing. The best books in this series are Weed's "Insect world" and Holden's "Family of the sun" and "Stories of great astronomers." Such books as Fanny Bergen's "Glimpses at the plant world," Carpenter's "Geographies," Kearton's "Our bird friends," and Weed's "Stories of Insect life" represent the style of book that the elementary science of to-day demands. We do not wish to make scientists of the children, but by means of the best books on nature-study we would prepare the way for elementary science.Nature-studyis notscience,for science is classified knowledge. So far as possible let the elements of personification and fiction be omitted, do not select books that are too technical or vague, that are not well illustrated, and that are not true to science.
Then our libraries will contain books that will incite the self-activity of the child and arouse the spirit of investigation; books that will stimulate observation and inculcate a spirit of tenderness and love for all life.
Ella A. Holmes,Assistant curator,
Children's Museum of the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences.
By Charlotte Elizabeth Wallace,Hazelwood Branch, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh.
The primary object of bulletin work is to direct the attention of the children to the books. The bulletin, like a poster, attracts the eye, arouses interest in a subject, and advertises the books treating of it. By means of picture bulletins interest may be awakened in topics before unnoticed; the children are curious to learn more about the pictures displayed, their curiosity is further excited by the short descriptive text, and as a result books relating to the subject are read. Thus, without rousing the children's suspicions, we are able to guide their reading.
The second object is the cultivation of the children's appreciation for pictures. If we can catch the eye by attractive pictures, we may add to the children's store of ideas, and aside from broadening their knowledge, bring them under the beneficent influence of beauty. Pictures of æsthetic value placed in a children's room in which harmony of decoration, furniture, and arrangement have been considered, exert a vitally refining influence. When we realize how painfully lacking in refinement are many of the homes of the children who visit the library, how blinded are their eyes to beauty because of their sordid surroundings, we shall then see how essential it is to enrich their lives by every means of cultivation appropriate to our field of work.
Whatever we may do in bulletin work must accord with the high standard of taste evidenced in all of the fittings of a dignified library. While we are to aim to attract the children by bulletins which are simple and childlike in spirit, we must keep a sharp lookout that in our effort to please them our bulletins do not become tawdry and fussy in style. We are to meet the children on their level and yet educate their taste to a higher standard.
The first practical consideration of bulletin-making is the collection of material. Pictures may be obtained from a variety of sources. Old magazines, book announcements, publishers' catalogues, book covers, book plates, railroad guides, advertising sheets, posters, special prints, etc., form the main sources of supply. In addition to a stock of good-toned gray mounting-board for regular use, colored mounting-board may be employed as a suitable background for colored prints, or to express the main idea of the bulletin—a delicate shade of green making an effective mount for certain pictures for bulletins on "Spring."
The choice of subject is of supreme importance. We should study the children whom we are trying to benefit, that we may discover their tastes and learn their interests. We may select a subject in line with the course of school study. This serves not only to illustrate a subject in which the children are already interested, but is an incidental means of making known to the teacher and pupils the usefulness of the library in furnishing reading supplementary to the school studies. We may bulletin a subject of transient interest, thus informing the children along this particular line; or, we may choose a topic which by the novelty of its presentation, may arouse interest in an unfamiliar subject, providing we make sure in choosing that we relate the unknown to the known. We always have a chance of illustrating some one of the universal interests of childhood. Spring and autumn exhibits, bulletins on birds, flowers, and animals, certain anniversaries, etc., invariably prove attractive to children. The bulletins should be such as to satisfy a catholicity of taste and cover a wide range in age and understanding. But whatever be one's choice of subject, let it be carefully thought and wrought out, definite in plan and purpose, and worthy the necessary expenditure of time, material, and effort.
It is well to read thoroughly on a subject before attempting to plan a bulletin. The reading of sketchy accounts in children's books is not a sufficient preparation for this work. It is better to turn to more substantial sources that we may penetrate the meaning of the subject for the children, and reflect this in the selection and arrangement of the pictures in the text, and in the talks with the children about the bulletin. We may thus reinforce the message of the bulletin and leadthe children to the best book where the information they are seeking may be found.
The explanatory text of the bulletin should be direct and simple. Accuracy of statement is essential; this is especially important in scientific subjects. Experiment has proved that a concise and simple account will be read, when a longer statement is passed unnoticed.
Poetry may be appropriately introduced to illustrate the thought of the bulletin. We should select the very best poems which will serve the purpose, making sure they are simple and clear enough in meaning to be readily understood by the children. In bulletin work we have an opportunity to acquaint the children with the choicest poetry. In addition to displaying pictures which please the eye, we may also present word-pictures, thus making a double appeal to the mind.
An annotated book list is of great service in connection with the bulletin. This enables the children to gain an idea of the subject matter of the various books, and, if the notes are attractive, induces them to read a book which otherwise might be ignored. In teaching the children the use of lists we are also preparing them for independent work later. The books, it possible, should be placed on a shelf near the bulletin, that they may be conspicuous and easily accessible.
No matter how beautiful the collection of pictures, nor how happy the choice of subject, a bulletin will not be successful unless it is well executed. Technical skill is also necessary in carrying out the idea. Not only should the bulletin direct attention to books but it should nourish æsthetic taste as well. Form is as important as subject. Slipshod mounting, unequal margins, untidy work in general, detract from the appearance of the bulletin, and are most disastrous object lessons to children.
We must collect only material which is worth while and even from this select with the greatest care. Sometimes it may be necessary to make use of weak or faulty prints in reference work, if a subject is sparingly illustrated, but such material should be reserved for this purpose rather than posted on bulletins.
There is danger in exhibiting more than one bulletin at a time—exception being made, of course, for such bulletins as illustrate allied subjects, thus forming an exhibition. The display of too many pictures on any one bulletin is equally inadvisable. Have we not all of us at times felt oppressed and confused by the seemingly endless array of pictures at a large art exhibit? The mind is overtaxed in the effort to grasp it all. Knowing the patience with which little children study a picture, even dwelling on the smallest detail with delight, it would be better to choose with discrimination, and avoid bewildering the minds of the children, and fatiguing their attention by a large collection of pictures. A miscellany of pictures or bulletins defeats its one purpose—that of making a definite impression which should lead to further investigation of a subject.
The arrangement of the bulletin should make its central thought and object apparent. A bulletin on Lincoln's life if properly arranged could easily tell the story of the experiences between the log-cabin and White House. The pictures should have some logical grouping, whether by succession of events, or according to some natural relationship, as bringing a collection of wild flowers together in the order of their appearance, birds and animals by families, etc.
Concerning the composition of the bulletin, we may borrow the rules of pictorial composition and adapt them to bulletin purposes. According to John C. Van Dyke, "Pictorial composition may be defined as the proportionate arranging and unifying of the different features and objects of a picture.... There must be an exercise of judgment on the part of the artist as to fitness and position, as to harmony of relation, proportion, color, light; and there must be a skilful uniting of all the parts into one perfect whole." In a bulletin as in a picture there must be a center of interest. We should strive to effect this by selecting for this purpose a picture which has earned its place, because it best suggests the subject, or because pictorially, either through tone or color, it best adapts itself to the principles of composition. The other pictures should be grouped accordingly, always taking account of the subject and artistic value of each in placing them. The bulletin should be built up architecturally as well, letting the heavy pieces support the light. Such a picture as Rosa Bonheur's "Ploughing" should not surmount Breton's "Song of the lark."
Color has its legitimate place in bulletin work as children are keenly alive to its attractiveness. It is because they are so sensitive and impressionable in this regard that our responsibility is proportionately greater; this alone should make us most discreet and careful in its use. Van Dyke cautions us in the following terms: "Beware of your natural taste, beware of bright pictures for they are generally bad." He tells us "That 'color' does not mean brightness alone; and that a 'colorist' is not one who deals in flaming colors with the recklessness of a crazy-quilt maker, but one who justly regards the relationship, the qualities, and the suitableness of his colors one to another...." Harmony strives to associate colors which are congenial to each other; however, it cannot be comprehended in the abstract. We bring to our bulletin work the results of our previous standards of taste, be these high or low. But we may raise our standards by holding ourselves receptive to the influence of art, whether it be decorative, ceramic, textile, or pictorial, and appropriate the lessons which it teaches in blending color into harmony. The love of prime colors is characteristic of primitive man, while the appreciation of the neutral tones is the acquirement of civilization. Intellectual development conforms to the epochs of racial progress. Children love crude and elementary colors. But while we make concession to their taste we should also educate it to an appreciation of the refined in color.