The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1892-03-08
GRINNS FAIRY TALES ALWAYS WELCOME

lUU UlU " 1GlL NULu0llul
Stories-''Ihe Song of
HiaWatha."
1t takes so little to make a child happy.
A smile. a caress, ii fiye-minute story, a
song that can be crooued while the mother
goes on with her sewing or ironing or
what not. l remember al anecdote of
Sister Dora which impressed me greatly.
That noble and heroic woman loved little
children; she should have been Il mother,
but was a very good sister. Passing one
day through the children's ward of the
hospital she found a baby crying in his
cot. He had dropped a piece of string
with which he had been playing, and was
inconsolable. Another sister was busy
near by and reproved the lid for crying
about such a matter as a piece of string.
Remember" said Sister Dora In a low
voice. "that string is the whole world for
him Just nowr" But | must 90 back d
moment to the singing. There are few
things in my experience. that delight
a child more u singing. My own
childhood was a sort OF progress of
song. Through every happy recollec-
ton runs. like a silver streamlet, the
music of my mothers voice. Mindful
OF this, l would lave every mother sing
to her child in however small a note. l
would have her learn always more and
more songs, choosing the first she knows.
Mother Goose is good, and very good, but
she is not enough. The vocal duties of
the mother are not limited to High
Diddle Diddle;" ever MARY and Her
T -, M Jnap ,,Af All thn roaoofrr l,af
the child ave ballads, and plenty of
theml IF l may make the ballads of q
nation,'' says Fletcher, of S%altoun, II
care not who makes the laws"
Never think a child is too young for
such things. The lilJ of the ballad mu-
scum will charm the baby ears far earlier
than one would think. l cannot remem-
Der the time when Lord Themes and
Fair Elinor'' did not form a part of my
mental furnishing,
She sat herself on her milk steed,
Her merry men all in green,
And every borough that she rode through,
They took her TO be some queen.
Repeat that verse to any Intelligent
child of three years or over, and see ii he
does not pick up his ears and ask for
more.
II the mother cannot sing, I would have
her read and recite ballads, grave and
gay, ancient and modern. Not only do
ULS SAtSh "a ohA1NA oab ~ $500
language in a way no primer would ever
teach him. All the noble, hign sounding
words that would roll along the old bal
| lads. the stately Norman syllables, the
sturdy, treuchant x words become q
part of the child's heritage. They are his
own, never to lose or forget, and when he
goes to school he will not boggle at any
| word which does not happen to be in
| everyday harness.
At three years old a child is ready for
Lord Themes and Lady Alice,'' and
that ever delightful Lord Bateman. AT
Bel" "Clym of the Clurgh'' and .tWil-
liam of Clanderlie" and Chevy Chaser"
The Percy out of Northumberland,
And a vow to God made he,
That he would hunt in the mountains
OF Cheviot for dayes three,
In the manger of doughty Douglass,
And all that with him might be.
Where is the boy that will not lift his
head at this, thrilled, like Str Philip Sid
ney when he heard it, ''as by the sound
of the trumpet" s.
Beside so greatly charging and enrich
ing the child's vocabulary. the ballads,
and next to them heroic stories. fill his
mind with thoughts of large and nobl
deeds. He may be a little lad in a brown
p~inafore. holding yarn for his grand
mother. or sweeping up the crumbs for
mamma. What does it matter il his
| - wv SNtb
at his call, are Alfred the Great and
Roland, Harold and Henry the Fifth.
True, the result is sometimes alarming.
as in the case of a little lad of my &C.
quaintapce. who frightened good Maggie,
he cook, out of her wits tine other day by
ushing at her, crying OUT
Beware of the Banquo ghost.
Beware of the Thane of Fifel
"But." exclaims some mother. "all
this is beyond The child's mind. 1t will
injure him!'
No, / don't think 1t will. 1t is SO much
easier than the primers.
The fat cat is on the mat
Well, who cares ii she isa The sentence
is u fatigue even to a Scared veteran like
myself. Try Proud Cumberland pranc'
ers, insulting the slain," on your boy
and see if he wants to know anything
more about the fat cat.
Last summer it was my hap to be shul
up for some weeks with an enchanted
princess in a tower The princess wa;
five years old, and had the scarlet fever
During the weeks OF convalescence and
quarantine we had a royal time with bal
lads, songs and fairy tales, entertaining
all the best company in the world. Ore
day when the Grimm stories had beer
read over and over again. / CHANGED tt
take up a volume of Longfellow, and
opening it at The Song of Hiawatha'
began to read at a venture, hardly think
ing that the child would care for any,
thing beyond tine exquisite childhood
part
And he sang the Song Of Children,
Sang The song Nokomis taught him.
Wat-wet-tayan, little FREELY,
Little fitting, white-dre insect,
Ii tie dancing, white. fire creature,
Light me with your little candle
Ere upon my bed l lay me,
Ere i'll sleep l close my eyelids.
But my princess demanded more, and
yet more, and again more. So we bull
the birch canoe. and we slew the Mishi
Nahme, and we courted the lovely Laugh
ing Water. Briefly the child grasped a
the poem with both hands, as it were, ant
I read it through twice Qeaving out ou'
or two cantos which | thought nigh
puzzle the little mind) triumphantly, ant
for DAYS after l had to be the wrinklet
old Nokomis, while my princess played
Minnehaha, M we had a paper Hiawatha
who really did very well.
Now, this surprised me at first. even il
such a poetry loving child as this princes
was; but when | came TO think about IL
there was nothing surprising in ii. w
do not hesitate to read Jack, the Clan
Killer" to our little ones, and Cor
moran" aud 'Bluuderbore" are fully al
difficult as the gentle Chibibors aud tht
very strong man. Kwesind; as diff
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