and not only for special occasions; also, doubtless, that the quality of what is studied is higher, especially for younger children. Our oldest and best treasures in literature were, of course, to be had then as now, but the fashion ran largely to pieces of the "You'd scarce expect one of my age" sort, and to the didactic goody-goody verses which were considered proper for the youthful mind. There are still old books afloat, and alas! some new ones published even now, which cater to and foster this taste; but there is a strong current of compilations from the best sources which is gradually sweeping the others away. Schools celebrate the birthdays of poets by wellprepared recitations and readings from their works; and literature classes no longer devote their time to studying about the masterpieces of writing, but are led to the reading and comprehension of the literature itself. While the pupils at the schools are thus progressing and attaining treasure by more simple and direct paths than heretofore, the child in the Kindergarten is also being led in the same manner, and even at this early stage he is given a few tiny jewels whose lustre delights. him though he is ignorant of their worth. Why so much attention should be given to the learning of poetry by children in all stages of development is easily discoverable by any one. "Who runs may read" the educational value of such exercises. What else can so elevate the taste and create so high a standard of the beautiful; what can SO healthfully guide the imagination; what can more successfully train the memory? Is there any medium better than a poem for revealing the inward and spiritual grace of this outward and visible world? How else can the English language, in its richness and copiousness, become the property of our pupils to any great extent? Is there any better way of training the ear to rhythm and the organs of speech to clear enunciation? Truly the learning of poetry is an exercise of manifold usefulness, ministering most graciously and sweetly to the elevation of the learner. In the Kindergarten we do not expect to accomplish more than a right beginning. We will not attempt to scale the sky-cleaving heights of Parnassus; but we will take the children to where the ground begins to rise, and point them to the beauties beyond. The poems which we teach in Kindergarten must be simple enough in thought to have come from the child's own heart; simple also in construction, written in choice and musical English, and always related to the subjects being considered in Kindergarten. In her charming lecture on "Forms of Water," Mary Cate Smith urged the importance and the beauty of a poetic presentation of a truth always accompanying the scientific presentation of it,-giving both the imaginative and the reasoning faculties their summons, and thus tending toward the equal development of both. If we hold fast to this idea, we shall find that there is generally a poem corresponding to the subject we have in hand which may be had for the searching. If the great poets fail us, there are some humbler folk whose verses will serve. Indeed, for our youngest children, with their baby accents and scant vocabularies, we must usually be content with the work of these latter writers. There are many whose verses are sweet and pure, and not too difficult. The current publications for children contain many suitable and timely poems of this stamp, and we shall do well to watch the periodicals, as well as to study books of poetry. As the children grow familiar with poetic forms of expression, they can learn poems of a higher order; especially if upon the same subject as the simple poem previously learned. The compilations most useful to me are "Poetry for Home and School," Whittier's Child-Life in Poetry," and Campbell's "Young Folks' Book of Poetry." "Poems for Children," by Celia Thaxter, is also a mine of treasure. By having the poems related to the subject studied in the Kindergarten, they sometimes link themselves into a series. For instance, these poems followed each other naturally in recent teaching: 64 "The Child's World," The Waves on the Seashore," "The Disastrous Ride," The Fountain (some verses omitted), "The Brook" (Mrs. Chas. Heaton, last verse omitted), "Rippling, Purling Little River," and, as a review, "The Endless Story." It has been my good fortune to have the same children through successive years; consequently I have been able to follow out this plan much more fully and in many more directions than the Kindergartner or teacher in a school. Whether we study flowers or birds, the seasons, the sun, moon and stars, geography, or American history, or ethics, or religion,-poems and songs on the same subject are included in the plan of study; not for the sake of imparting more instruction, but, by the poetic presentation, to illumine the subject with "the light that never was on sea or land." Without this light there can not be an appreciation of the inmost beauty or truth of what is to be learned. Many of the Kindergarten songs are beautiful for recitation; after the chil dren have thoroughly learned and enjoyed them in this way, the singing of the verses will be an extra pleasure. In these days of motion songs and finger plays (the use of which it would ill become me to disparage), there is a caution to be urged against having too much gesticulation always accompany the recitation of poetry. Sign language is of a grade below word language; should we not, therefore, train the children to feel the descriptive power of the words alone? To this end let the poem be recited without motions sometimes, even though they may have been necessary to make it more comprehensible and vivid to the children while learning it. With regard to adaptations of poems, we must beware of over-stepping legitimate bounds. I would not say that we may not sometimes alter or omit verses in studying poems with our children. Many educators Many educators G. Stanley Hall among them-agree that this is lawful as well as expedient; but to impose our paltry emendations upon the world at large, by publication, should be regarded almost as sacrilege. If you have a pupil who is ready to appreciate Part I. of "The May Queen," and yet you do not care to explain the coquetry displayed in certain verses, there seems no adequate reason why you should not teach the poem, omitting those verses; but you need not publish an edition of "The May Queen" as you teach it. To select and modify in our schoolroom is a different matter from interfering between the poet and his general public. An instance of well-meant; but mistaken correction of a little poem has recently come to my knowledge, most sweetly confessed by the sinner herself. In Celia Thaxter's exquisite poem on "Spring" occur the lines: "The gay, green grass comes creeping been on a long drive in the country, and So soft beneath our feet; The frogs begin to ripple A music clear and sweet." "Frogs!" thought the Kindergartner. 'It must be brooks." were taught So the children The brooks begin to ripple · A music clear and sweet.' But one beautiful Spring day the Kindergartner met a friend who had just A PEN PICTURE OF FRIEDRICH FROEBEL. The following is a translation of Dr. Wichard Lange's personal description of Froebel in Dr. Karl Schmidt's "History of Pedagogy": Friedrich Wilhelm August Froebel was born on the 21st of April, at Oberweisbach, in the principality SchwarzRudolstadt, Prussia, the son of a minister. Froebel's form was tall and slender, somewhat above the medium height. His forehead was broad, but appeared singularly low because of an exceptionally heavy growth of hair, which extended far over or into his brow. Directly over his eyes a marked protrusion was noticeable. The large, dark, animated eyes were partially covered with a decided droop of the eyelids; his glance was usually raised during speech, and assumed either a mystical or penetrating look, brilliant and sharp; he had very often a mildly saddened, anxious expression, especially when overflowing phantasy with his immeasurably rapid flow of ideas overpowered him, causing him to wrestle vainly for words in his discourses. This struggle for words portrays itself in his writings, giving his sentences a rigid one-sided his ness, which proves oftentimes tiresome reading. His sharp, discriminating reasoning seldom kept pace with his penetrating understanding. The Roman nose, which was decidedly pointed, was in keeping with the lower portion of his face. His mouth, which was habitually kept closed, showed exceptionally thin lips, with chin protruding. The dark hair, which he wore parted in the middle, did not turn gray, even with age, and hung down upon his shoulders. His gait was rapid, energetic-in agitation or strong excitement he made giant strides. In contrast with Pestalozzi, his external appearance was always neat and tidy. All his belongings were kept in an orderly, careful manner. Love for mankind, especially for childhood, was a prominent trait of character. To catch a chance opportunity of gazing into the eyes of a child, seen at a distance, would often prompt him to cut suddenly, like one possessed, across a field or road. This accounts for that power of exercising an almost supernat ural fascination over children, and also that almost magical influence upon the feminine mind. He was seldom with gentlemen. Overbearing, open opposi- the heart of the circle-personifying tion hurt him deeply. That power of his, which penetrated with singular insight into the innermost being of man, did not often prevent his estimation of the individual man from being a very mistaken one. Even though his faculty for labor and perseverance was giant-like, and his will force exceedingly strong, in desiring and willing, nevertheless, he remained throughout life, in many sides of his character, a child. He could enjoy himself like a child, and very often viewed actual, every-day life as a child would. The poet's enthusiasm was strongly marked; the man-of-the-world's insight, however, was almost wholly lacking. He whose view was habitually turned inward, with his ideal and enthusiasm, found his total opposite in Barop. Both men represented in their essential nature, ideality, reality, ; ideal and actual; thought and deed; both have, nevertheless, the same endeavor. dendorf formed the mediation. Mid Froebel's tongue or interpreter; was, in fact, his disciple John. He was Barop's good genius (who seemed inclined to lose himself wholly in the externality of matter); he was the clear eye for Froebel, who, at times, from too abstract reasoning and enthusiastic elevation, lost his sense for the calm calculation of affairs. Middendorf was, above all, the religious center of the whole, to which the young and old looked up in loving reverence. Froebel's spirit was always borne onward with an everlasting enthusiasm for the happiness of mankind; for the living ideals of truth and beauty; for innermost, deepest religionism, which forms the beginning and end of his system of education. So lived, says Lange, the apostle of womanhood-genial, unceasingly active-the man wholly actuated by love, Friedrich Froebel. He died on the 21st of June, 1852. He was Winona, Minn. K. E. TYPICAL LESSONS FOR MOTHERS AND KINDERGARTNERS. "HE HATH MADE EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL IN HIS TIME."-[Ecc. 3: 11.] We This thought of the beauty of all the Creator's work is given to arouse in the child a reverence and love for Nature as an expression of our Father's love. lead to man's decoration through Nature, because, first, natural forms are the most beautiful; second, we enjoy making even the common, useful things of life tell us of the beautiful work of His hand, at the same time serving a useful purpose. Thus the children get the idea that only the work of such a hand is worthy of our imitation. After our "Good morning, all," the children are led to tell how their moth ers are getting them new, Spring clothes; calico and gingham dresses for the girls, and waists for the boys. Some of them have them on to-day. "Let us look at Mabel's dress. How many pieces are there, or is it all in one piece?" "It is just in one piece," says Mamie. "I wonder if there is any one here whose clothes are in two separate pieces. Look around and see." They discover that the boys' trousers and waists make two pieces. "Look again and see if any one is dressed in clothes of more than two pieces." Annie finds that Charlie has trousers, waist and jacket. Lulie finds that one of the teachers has a dress made of three parts. "I know another kind of little people who are having new, Spring dresses made. They are so wonderfully and beautifully made, too. They do not have to go to the store for them, nor have them sewed, and yet, theirs are the most beautiful clothes in all the world. What kind of little dresses do I mean? Geraniums? Yes, and the lilies, too, and our other Easter flowers. Let us look at this bud on the geranium. You can see the edge of the skirt of its bright red dress. In the bloom you can see it all. Some flowers have their dresses all in one piece, as Mabel's dress is. Others have more pieces, like Miss G's dress." The next morning we have some morning-glories. After all have looked at them closely, they are told to show with their fingers how the morningglory dress is made. 'Is it all in one piece like Mabel's, or is it in several pieces?" Little hands are raised all around with one finger up. "Yes, and it is a very pretty little blue slip, is it not? Can any one tell me why the flower dress is always beautiful? Who is it that tells the morning-glory how to make its dress beautiful? Tell us softly." One at a time, several childish voices reverently say, "Our Father." "Yes, and do you know, I think he must know how glad it makes the children when the flowers come back with their bright, Spring dresses. Don't you think that is one reason He helps the flowers to get their beautiful dresses? I have a little song story to tell you this morning. Listen carefully, and see whether you can tell anything in the story when I am through." The pianist plays the song in a full, legato style, making it express reverent feeling. The voice of the singer also expresses the same feeling in soft, full, sustained tones, her manner producing absolute quiet. "All things bright and beautiful, All things great and small, All things wise and wonderful, Our Father made them all." [Music, No. 65, Miss Smith's “Songs for Little Children'; words from Mrs. Hailmann's song book, with some slight changes.] 66 After the music ceases, there is a moment's pause. Then, gently, Who can tell us anything the story said?" Lena softly says, "Beautiful things": John, Bright things," and Mary, "Small things." The little ears must have listened well that time; the best part of the story is the very last part. It tells who made all these bright and beautiful things, these great and small things, these wise and wonderful things." Mamie says, "Our Father." "Yes. Now can any one show me some of the bright and beautiful things He made?" "Our morning-glory's dress," is softly said by John. Are there, in our room, any other bright and beautiful things He made?" Several little hands point to our Easter flowers and the geraniums. "Would you like to hear the story once more?" As many wish to hear it, the song is sung again, in the same manner as before. The next morning the idea of the line "All things great and small," is dedeloped in a similar way through the large trees in the yard and the tiny flowers. Another day the line, "All things wise and wonderful," is made clear to the children by returning to the story of |