The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-10-17
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER.
Modern Substitutes Have Not Entirely
Replaced the Famous Book.
Boston Transcript

Boston Transcript.
The New England Primer, parts of which
are to be reproduced in facsimile by Paul
Leicester Ford, will be a welcome addition
to the library of every grown-up child. 1t
Will bring TO many or US quaint pictures
which even Mr.. Ford cannot hope to repro
duce of little old-fashioned child stand
ing respectfully and primly at its mothers
knee following gravely the finger or knit
ting+needle from Adams fall to "Zacheus
he did climb tree" They always stood at
knee in those good old days, did they
not? Hands behind back and toes pointed
out? Nowadays, when we are thankful If
we can coax or bolster them into joyful in
terest in the frolcking cat" they may lie
fiat on their little stomachs. heels in air. If
only they will be interested" Truly they
have fallen on pleasant days. No more
grinding routine work committing to
no reason, struggling with problems far be-
yond their years, picking up stolen knowl-
edge from the lessons of the big boys and
girls on the back seat. when they are sup
posed to be coming their own tough little
primers--no more of all this cruelty of the
dark ages But, instead, every task turned
to play. with a beautiful grown-up friend
who hops like frog, and flaps like bird.
and runs like a squirrel with the best of
them. Every difficulty is smothered, every
problem made interesting until the little
eyes grow round with wonder and the little
cheeks hang down with joy. 1t is all very
beautiful and happy And if we are sure
that it will produce fibre and not pulp. the
problem of education is solved. If the next
generation has the same. pluck and persist
y,
that went with the New England Primer
days. we shall know that we have not sac
rifced character to facility or fiber to hap
piness. 1t is a grave question how much
has been gained by our righteousness in
behalf of children When. the other day.
7 saw a child playing alone. under the
trees, with q few bits of broken crockery
and an empty wooden box / called her an
old-fashoned child and loved her. She
was absorbed in all the excitement and
gravity of a tea party: the bits of crockery
were taken out with busting Importance
and placed with housewifely flourish on the
box: there was imaginary slipping. and
tasting and bowling, and chatting-all with
the air of a true make-believe not in the
least like pretended -believe-that
made me child again. just to watch her
OF course we have engines, and choo-choo
cars and blocks, and dolls, and tea sets.
and villages. and animals. and balls. and
only to find some morning, to our astOnish-
ment and perplexity that all these old
things are played away We puzzle back
in memory, trying to recall just how we
used to feel about such things, only to come
against the blank wall that we never had
them. We try to put ourselves in their
places, only to be met by q discomforting
suspicion that between that time and this
is great gulf fixed, that upon us shades
of the prison house have already fallen
Perhaps if we diminish the heap of
toys and piles of books. our children will
learn to play rs creatively and vigorously
as the little sun-bonneted girl in the old
orchard.