St. Paul daily globe., 1893-01-28
talk TO CHILDREN.
How Much May Be Taught
Them by Right Kind
Of Talk.
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps and
Her Place in Woman
hood.
Social Events of Yesterday
and Stray Personal Para
graphs.
a Column of Gossip Pre-
pared for the Delectati0n
Of Women.

Read to the children. They must
think of something. Why not give them
something beneficial to them. Tell
them stories. Mother GUoSe'S melodies,
if you will, but they will soon be large
enough to like something better than
these. You can teach them great deal
in this way. but do not try to impress
ing them, These little people hear all that
is going on about them, and get often a
very funny idea of what the words we
use to express events mean, but if you
use the everyday occurrences as texts,
you can keep them very busy, as well
as lay the foundation of that intelligent
observation that makes some grown
people we know 50 interesting. l know
one such who is more interesting to the
children of the families with whom she
is connected than the widest fairy story
book. The children are so charmed
with her talks on everyday sub
jectS that if it is necessary for
one of them to leave the room on any
little household errand the baniShed
one slips slowly around the room till
the door is reached, and, pausing there,
asks in the most persuasive tone:
"PleaSe, Aunt Dude, don't say another
word till get back" She has familiar
lied their minds with so many scientific
facts that one listening to their talk is
Filled Wit:l Wonder.
She has made the roads and lanes and
even the kitchen garden around their
home, as full of deli"htful things as the
tales Of the Arabian Nights.
Take some historical event like
Washington'S birthday, and you can
impress lessons on their young hearts
from the life Of our honored first pres
ident, lessons of honor, Self-cOntrol and
simple dignity that the years can never
efface. Or tell of good st. Valentine,
the patron saint of lovers, or of
what our mucu-Ialked-Of worlds
fair is meant to commemorate. " 18th
these themes for texts you can weave
sermons that will outrival the longest
that our sermon-loving ancestors ever
heard, and they will divide up into the
most wonderful c0ryelations if you keep
at them, and by and by these boys and
girls who are listening by your knee
will be men and women, with minds so
we'll stored with pleasant subjects for
thought that low gossip and scandal
will have no place there. And then,
what an outlook this training gives to
them! Every tree or shrub will suggest
a personality to them. | remember
q ride we took one haZy autumn day
with this same beloved auntle. The
road was one we had driven over hun
dreus of times and thought ii uninterest-
ing, but we never thought that after
that day. AS we left the town we
heard a dull tapping off somewhere in
the road. DO You hear that, children?
The wise little grenader who wears
such pert little red cap is out foraging.
You see he has buried an acorn i'll that
old dead tree, and now he is tapping to
find if the fat worm is ready for him."
Then she told where
we Could Find Gut
all about him, and showed us red
woodpecker clinging and tapping on
tall dead tree. Then we came 10 a little
depression between two hillS-there
were many such in the WOOds-and she
called this dead mans hollow" and
told Of an incident that had occurred in
the dell when the country was new,
when one cousin had killed another for
money and had found only IS cents;
then Of the trial and of the men who
had been engaged in it. men
whose names had since become
household words in that state.
trees. their habits and uses. A dali
bird fluttered along above the hedge
"Ah, Mr. Butcher bird" she said, Are
YOU afraid some of us will find yOul
smoke house," Then the story fol-
lowed. As our wheels rolled through
the dry grass at the roadside myriadS of
tiny insects flew into the air. and she
told us of these minute creatures, the
ephemera. whose whole life's span eX-
tended only from sunrise to sunset.
She wondered about it, and we never
forgot the things she said. In
deed, one incident of that ride
was SO deeply impressed on us
that 10 this day that little brown farm
house is invested with tender pathos,
tor here she told Of seeing funeral at
which the mother was buried and the
children left orphans. | imagine that
that burly German farmer and his
sisters would have been amazed could
they lave known how sorry the chill
dren were for the orphans that lived
there. When little Bell went to bed
that night she broke All unusually long
silence by saying, IFS too bad they're
orphans, isn't it, mammal" Children
live a great deal in world of their
own. Try TO people it with intelligent
beings that may be companions for
them all their lives. AUNT POLLY.