Children and Their Books | Page 4

they mean and far more frequently
than you imagine he will receive a wrong impression by confusing
words like zeal and seal of similar sound and totally different meaning.
A teacher accidentally found out that her class supposed that the "kid"
which railed at the wolf in Aesop's fable was a little boy, and I have
had a child tell me that he saw at Rouen the place, where Noah's ark
was burned, of course he meant Jeanne d'Arc. "The mastery of words,"
says Miss Arnold, "is an essential element in learning to read. Our

common mistake is, not that we do such work too well, but that we
make it the final aim of the reading lesson, and lead the children to feel
that they can read when they are merely able to pronounce the words."
"Observation has convinced me," wrote Melvill Dewey, "that the
reason why so many people are not habitual readers is, in most cases,
that they have never really learned to read; and, startling as this may
seem, tests will show that many a man who would resent the charge of
illiteracy is wholly unable to reproduce the author's thoughts by looking
at the printed page."
Children make their first acquaintance with books from the pictures.
They like plenty of them with bright colors and broad simple treatment
and prefer a rude sketch with action to the finest work of Walter Crane
or Kate Greenaway. Illustrations should help the child to understand
the story. Pictures of historic places and objects and adequate
reproductions of works of great artists are of value later, for, while the
aesthetic sense of the child may be cultivated by surrounding him with
the beautiful--flowers, pictures, books, a recognition of the fact that the
love of the artistic is of comparatively late development, will prevent
much discouragement.
The child learns from his reading what kind of a world he lives in,
through books he also becomes acquainted with himself and with his
tastes and abilities and sometimes he finds out from them what he is
fitted for in life. When carefully directed, reading may be made to
cultivate common sense, self-reliance, initiative, enthusiasm, and
ability to turn one's mental and physical capital to the best advantage
and to make the most of one's opportunities--qualities which ensure
success in life, and it also should cultivate the affections and those
kindly feelings which make the world a better place to live in. Try to
interest the child in books which give true and noble ideas of life where
wrong-doing brings its natural consequences without too much
preaching. The moral should not be dragged in, the day of the
sugar-coated pill in literature is past. The right books are those that
teach in a straightforward way that character is better than superficial
smartness, that success does not always mean the accumulation of a
large amount of money and that it is not a matter of luck but that it

depends upon perseverance in faithful work; books which develop the
child's sympathies by teaching consideration for the feelings of others,
kindness to animals and to all weak and dependent creatures. Lack of
reverence is common in the youth of today and books and papers which
ridicule old age, filial duty and other things which ought to be
respected are all too common. Few have added more to the happiness
of mankind than he who has written a classic for children. It takes very
unusual qualities to write for them. Sympathy with the child: brightness
and simplicity of diction are much rarer than one would suppose until
he seeks for them with the child. The first requisite of a book is that it
should interest the child, the next is that it should inspire and uplift him.
The imparting of information is less important, but whatever
information the book contains should be accurate and useful. When a
child has learned to appreciate those classics which are suited to his
comprehension he will not be likely to waste his time on such futile
things as tales of imaginary adventure thickened with a little inaccurate
history. He will prefer books which describe what really happened to
those which tell what someone writing long after thinks possibly might
have happened.
We have a good deal of nervous prostration now-a-days but little
refining leisure. Shorter days of labor give more spare time and the
schools can render a great service to the nation by teaching how to
make the best use of this time and by creating the desire to devote a
part of it to the reading of good books and especially to the reading of
the American classics. How few resources most persons have in
themselves and how flat and unprofitable their lives are. They devote
their moments of leisure