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Title: The Story Hour, Vol. I, No. 1, November, 1908 - A Magazine of Methods and Materials for Story Tellers
Author: Various
Language: English
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Transcriber’s Notes
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Italics are represented thus _italic_.
THE STORY HOUR
A Magazine of Methods and
Materials for Story Tellers
VOL. I NOVEMBER, 1908 NO. 1
Published Monthly (ten times a year) at Washington, D. C.
Copyright, 1908, by M. E. Sloane. All rights reserved.
WILLIAM C. RUEDIGER, Ph. D., Editor
_Division of Education, George Washington University_
RICHARD T. WYCHE, Consulting Editor
_President National Story Tellers’ League_
MERSENE E. SLOANE, Founder and Publisher
Subscription: One Dollar a year (ten numbers), in advance.
Single and Sample Numbers, Fifteen Cents.
Advertising rates given on application.
Address all communications to
THE STORY HOUR,
406 FIFTH STREET, N. W.,
WASHINGTON, D. C.
Make remittances by money order, draft or registered letter, payable
to Mersene E. Sloane, Publisher. Sender risks unregistered money.
Manuscripts on story-telling, and of stories for telling, are desired.
When ordering change of address be sure to give the former address.
PRESS OF THE COLONIAL PRINTING COMPANY OF WASHINGTON, D. C.
OFFICERS OF THE NATIONAL
STORY-TELLERS’ LEAGUE
_Honorary President_, HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE
_President_, RICHARD T. WYCHE, 501 W. 120th Street, New York
_Secretary_, DR. RICHARD M. HODGE, Teachers’ College,
Columbia University, New York
_Treasurer_, MR. W. H. KEISTER, Harrisonburg, Va.
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE
DR. P. P. CLAXTON, Knoxville, Tenn.
_Professor Education, University of Tenn._
_Superintendent Summer School of the South_
MISS ANNIE LAWS, Cincinnati, Ohio
_President Ohio Federation of Women’s Clubs_
MISS MAUD SUMMERS, Cincinnati, Ohio
_Superintendent Kindergarten Training School_
MISS ANNA C. TYLER, New York City
_Children’s Librarian_
DR. RICHARD M. HODGE
MR. W. H. KEISTER
MR. RICHARD T. WYCHE
ADVISORY BOARD
DR. G. STANLEY HALL, President Clark University
DR. HENRY VAN DYKE, Princeton University
MISS ELIZABETH BROWN, City Schools, Washington
DR. JENNIE B. MERRILL, Supervisor Kindergartens, New York City
DR. A. FORTIER, Tulane University, New Orleans
DR. C. W. KENT, University of Virginia
WHARTON S. JONES, Assist. Supt. Public Schools, Memphis, Tenn.
DR. J. E. MCKEAN, Home Study Courses, Northwestern University
SUPT. B. C. GREGORY, Supt. of Schools, Chelsea, Mass.
MISS ELIZABETH HARRISON, Pres. Chicago Kindergarten College
MISS MARIAN S. HENCKLE, Kindergarten Training School, Charleston, S. C.
MISS PEARL CARPENTER, Covington, Ky.
MRS. A. W. COOLEY, University of North Dakota
MISS ELIZABETH J. BLACK, Greensboro, N. C.
DR. W. C. RUEDIGER, Division of Education, George Washington University
THE STORY HOUR
VOL. I NOVEMBER, 1908 NO. 1
EDITOR’S AND PUBLISHER’S NOTES
With this issue a new magazine under the title of THE STORY HOUR begs
leave to enter the arena of Journalism. It is published in the cause of
story-telling in the home, school, Sunday School, playground and social
gathering.
Although the art of story-telling is old, its general recognition as an
educational agency is new. Many teachers are already making good use of
it and we do not hesitate in saying that its usefulness will increase
and will henceforth occupy a permanent place in teaching.
* * * * *
THE STORY HOUR owes its origin to an editorial in _The World’s Work_
of last July, giving a brief account of the Story Tellers’ League
movement. The attention of the publisher was called to that editorial
as something in which he would be especially interested. Having been
a teacher, and also a newspaper man and a publisher, he at once saw
the field for a magazine to give a definiteness and coherence to the
story-telling movement that could hardly obtain without a periodical
representative.
The plan of such a publication was at once outlined, and after some
indirect correspondence he got in communication with Mr. Richard T.
Wyche, president of the National Story Tellers’ League. Mr. Wyche came
to Washington and after several interviews the magazine was launched
with William C. Ruediger, of George Washington University, as Editor,
and Mr. Wyche as consulting editor.
The detailed labor required to start a new magazine is greater than
may appear on the surface. But it is a work in which all three of the
staff are earnestly interested, and the labor is cheerfully done. No
salaries are attached, and the subscription price barely covers the
cost of publication. Our reward is in the satisfaction of furthering a
good cause, until such time as later developments may bring something
more.
The co-operation of all League people is confidently anticipated. A
high standard will be maintained throughout. There may be some delays
incident to the starting of a new project, but when an ample supply of
material is in hand, as there soon will be, the magazine will go out
promptly.
* * * * *
The informational feature of this issue has trespassed on the space
belonging to stories and to special articles, but this will not be
the case in the future. Particular attention will be given to the
classic stories from all times and places, but new or modern stories
suitable for telling will not be neglected. So far as we can, we shall
concentrate the stories of each number about single topics. The next
number will contain several Christmas stories, one being from the pen
of Mr. Wyche. Other numbers will be devoted respectively to Bible
stories, Japanese stories, nature myths, star myths, Norse tales,
history stories, Indian legends, etc.
* * * * *
Readers of THE STORY HOUR will appreciate the statement that Mr.
Richard T. Wyche, President of the National Story Tellers’ League,
will present a series of articles to run through the year, on “Stories
and How to Use Them,” of which the first installment appears in this
number. Mr. Wyche is an acknowledged leader in the new story-telling
movement. His ability and experience insure a series of articles of
prime importance to the cause, and of rare interest and value to all
who are engaged in story-telling in any of its forms.
* * * * *
This initial number of THE STORY HOUR, as announced in advance, is
designed for special informational use. People in all parts of the
country are learning of the new educational story-telling movement
and are making inquiry regarding details. This number of the magazine
answers many of the questions, and further information will appear in
succeeding numbers.
* * * * *
The importance of story-telling as a factor in the uplift of the young
is recognized by the leaders in the great playground movement. At
the Second Annual Congress of the Playground Association of America,
held in New York City, September 8-12, this year, some prominence was
given to the story-telling feature of playground work. A special joint
committee composed of members of the National Playground Association
and the National Story Tellers’ League had the consideration of this
topic. Of this committee Miss Maude Summers was chairman, and Dr. Grant
Karr was secretary.
It was one of the most enthusiastic committees of the Congress. So
interested were its members, that long after the hour for adjournment
it continued in session. An extra meeting was held one evening for
story-telling.
Miss Summers gave an address before a general meeting of the Congress.
Several of her remarks made a noticeable impression, and the press
of the country has since then been quoting and commenting on certain
things she said, particularly wherein she scored the Sunday comic
supplements and urged the telling of good stories instead.
Through the courtesy of Miss Summers, THE STORY HOUR is enabled,
in this number, to present the text of her paper read before the
playground congress.
* * * * *
The article on “The Traveling Story Tellers of the Northland,” by Anna
Bogenholm Sloane, is the forerunner of several contributions promised
from her pen. Her familiarity with the lore of the Northland is
first-hand.
* * * * *
In our next number there will be an article on the origin and growth of
Junior Leagues that will be helpful in suggestions to those who wish to
establish such leagues among the children.
ANNOUNCEMENT BY MR. WYCHE
During the past year, a number of letters of inquiry have come to me in
response to articles that have appeared in magazines and newspapers,
asking for information in regard to the National Story Tellers’ League.
So numerous have been the letters asking for information and circulars
that it has been impossible to supply the demand, and the issuing
of a booklet or publication of some kind by the League has become a
necessity.
Among the letters that came to me in August was one from Mersene E.
Sloane of Washington, D. C., offering to publish in the interest of
the League movement, a little magazine. I immediately took up the
matter with him and after several visits to Washington we secured in
William C. Ruediger, of the Division of Education, George Washington
University, an editor for the proposed magazine.
When we think of the thousands of teachers, kindergartners, children’s
librarians, Sunday School teachers, playground workers and parents,
whose high privilege it is to tell stories to children, surely there
seems a field for such a magazine as is here proposed. Since the
beginning of the National League, we have felt the need of just such a
medium of communication.
I shall do all I can for the magazine and assist in keeping it up
to the highest and best in life and literature. I commend to League
members, local and national, and all interested, the efforts of editor
and publisher. Their work in behalf of the magazine is, and will be for
some time, largely a labor of love. I ask that you send in not only
your subscriptions, but reports from your Leagues, items of interest,
stories and papers on story-telling. What you are doing will be
suggestive and inspiring to others, especially those just beginning the
work.
In merging the booklet that the National League was to issue into the
magazine, I trust it will have the hearty support of all the Leagues
and further the cause of The Story Hour.
RICHARD THOMAS WYCHE,
President, National Story Tellers’ League.
STORIES AND HOW TO USE THEM
BY RICHARD THOMAS WYCHE
PRESIDENT, NATIONAL STORY TELLERS’ LEAGUE
ARTICLE NUMBER ONE
Once upon a time the writer undertook to teach a little school in a
far-off seacoast town in the South. The little village was on a sandy
bluff overlooking the sound and the sea. Cut off from the main land by
an impossible swamp in the rear, yet shut out from the great Atlantic
by an ever-shifting sand bar that lay for leagues along the sea coast,
it gave the little town an ideal harbor of shallow water, the home of
fishermen and oystermen whose cottages were scattered for miles along
the sea coast.
Being isolated the inhabitants were compelled to rely upon themselves
and in doing this had developed a solidarity of community life and a
manhood and womanhood of purity and simplicity that was as refreshing
as the breezes that ever swept its shores.
Amid such surroundings I began to teach, and it was my first
experience. Not having libraries or lectures to help me, I too must
depend on self.
I had never studied pedagogy and knew nothing of teaching except that
which I had seen in the university lecture rooms. The teacher who
preceded me “heard” lessons and the children “said” lessons. That
seemed an easy proposition, for the questions were in the book and the
children could memorize and say the answers.
But I soon discovered that the children found no interest in the fact
that one word was a verb and another a noun. They memorized the rules
and repeated the lessons, but they were not at all interested in the
subject. They were bored by this mechanical process, and so was the
teacher. Something must be done. One day I told the class the story of
“Hiawatha’s Fishing.” Every child listened with rapt attention. I had
found something that they were interested in. I requested the children
to write the story out for their lessons the next day. The majority
of them did so, and read the story as they had understood and written
it down. One little fellow said, “I ain’t got no pencil,”—which meant
that he didn’t write it. “Tell it then,” I said. He told it in such a
vivid and realistic way that the class applauded. I had found something
that the child liked. The second day I told the story of “Hiawatha’s
Fasting,” then “Hiawatha’s Friends,” and so on, two stories a week,
until we had told the whole story of Hiawatha.
But you ask “What did that have to do with grammar?” From the story we
got the nouns and verbs we studied and the sentences that the advanced
classes analyzed and studied. (The whole school heard the story, it
being an ungraded school with classes ranging from primary to high
school.)
What else did we do with the story? Let us see. When the children told
the story orally or on paper it was creative work, and better for
expression than memorizing “Mary had a little lamb.” The child received
a mental picture. He heard the story, and retelling it in his own words
he created afresh the picture, thereby becoming a creator and an artist
himself. In reciting “Mary had a little lamb” he was dealing with
words. In telling the story he was dealing with mental images.
One day I saw the children playing out on the campus, and on making
inquiries they said, “We are playing Hiawatha and Mondamin and Old
Nokomis.” They were dramatizing the story. It was taking effect. Had I
been a trained teacher I would have let them do it in class as a part
of their work. Twice a week we got the words for our spelling lesson
from the story. The children were so much interested in Hiawatha that
they wanted to make pictures of Hiawatha. Then I let them illustrate
the story, writing in their composition books the story, and
illustrating it. As we studied geography, the upper Mississippi Valley
and the Lake Regions all took on new meaning because Hiawatha had once
lived, toiled, and suffered there.
But what had I done for those children most of all? I had fed their
souls,—given them a masterpiece of literature. Starting with the
childhood of Hiawatha we had followed him and admired him. We had
roamed through that fairy land of dark green forest; heard the
whispering pines, saw Hiawatha when he caught the King of Fishers,
“Slew the Pearl Feather,” prayed and fasted for his people, punished
“Pau-puk-kee-wis,” wooed and won Minnehaha, and when his task was done,
sailed away into the fiery sunset.
That something inexpressibly sweet and beautiful that I felt in the
vision hour, and longed to impart to the children and heretofore had
not been able to, I had at last found incarnate in a hero, while the
music, meter, and imagery of poetry had awakened the sense of the
beautiful and revealed a new world to the children. New life had come
into the school. It had been born again and born from above.
Two months had passed. I had tried an experiment. It had succeeded.
Grammar, language, composition, spelling, drawing, story-telling had
been taught by that method. Formal language had become linked to
literature and thereby to life. The formal had become an expression of
the spiritual.
Where could I find another such story? The little goody-goody
sissy-prissy stories could not interest us. They all seemed tame in
comparison to the sustained effort of a story like Hiawatha. I had
discovered that the children could fully appreciate a great story told
to them in a living, creative way, and that interest grew each day as
we told the long story in sections to the end. The only other hero
in literature that I knew in these first years of my experience in
teaching was revealed in the story of King Arthur which I had recently
studied in a university; but, were the Idyls of the King suited to the
children? That was the only source of the story available to me at
that time and it was more modern, more complicated in every way, and
far more difficult to tell than the one we had just finished. After
hearing a number of the Hiawatha stories the children could and did
read Longfellow’s versions, but not so with the Idyls of the King.
While the children fully enjoyed the stories of the Idyl, the style of
Tennyson was not suited nor intended for children. All the imagery,
heroic deeds and idealism of Hiawatha were there, but in telling this
story much must be omitted. Involved plots must be made direct, and
the story simplified. This required much more preparation on the part
of the teacher, but we must have another story. It would not do to let
the school fall back into the dead rut of lesson hearing, and though I
feared they could not appreciate the Arthurian story yet I would try. I
began with the finding of a naked babe on the beach, the childhood of
Arthur, Merlin’s work, the sword Excalibur, and Arthur’s coronation.
At first the children were not so much interested. Their minds were
still on Hiawatha and his deeds; they were loath to leave him. But
gradually as I told of Arthur and his deeds, Gareth and Lynette,
Geraint and Enid, Lancelot and Elaine, the Quest of the Holy Grail,
The Flight of Guinevere, the Passing of Arthur, the interest grew,
and at times became intense, especially among the larger boys and
girls. The story was coming home to them. King Arthur was a man like
ourselves, of our own race. The whole story had brought the children
face to face with a great ideal, Arthur, the blameless man. Pure
himself, he demanded it in his knights, and bound them by vows of
obedience to their conscience and their king. He defended the weak
against the wicked; broke up the robbers’ dens and cleansed the land;
led his knights in brave deeds, for it is said that when the fire of
God filled him none could stand against him in battle. He enjoyed the
athletic sports and the tourneys, yet was so gentle, they said his ways
were sweet.
As with Hiawatha the story was reproduced, illustrated, correlated with
English history and geography, and at the same time it furnished the
most excellent material for ethical and æsthetic culture. After the
last story was told, the Passing of Arthur, and the children saw with
Sir Bedivere, the King pass with the three tall queens in a barge over
the sea, they stood in wonder gazing on the splendor of his passing.
Defeated in the last weird battle in the West, yet he was victorious in
his ideals for he became the spiritual king of his race.
“From the great deep to the great deep he goes,” the children heard
but did not quite understand. It was the better for that because it
awakened in the child something of the mystery of life and death. In
that it served the highest purpose. It helped the child to realize that
there are things in life that eye has not seen nor ear heard. Let it
not be forgotten that while we use these great stories for formal work,
the formal was always the result of the creative. “The letter killeth;
the spirit giveth life.” Thus it was that children and teacher left the
low plains of the “lesson hearer” and hand in hand walked the upland
pastures of the soul.
This is not offered as a model method for teaching, but it is given to
reveal the writer’s view-point and the source of his inspiration for
these chapters.
THE STORY IN FORMAL WORK
The formal must be an expression of the spiritual else it is not art.
This is true whether the idea is expressed in words, wood or iron. To
do formal work whether it be oral retelling, composition, illustrating
or dramatization of a story apart from the spirit is deadening to the
child. The letter killeth, the spirit giveth life is true in language
and literature as well as religion. Herein is the great possibility for
the development of individuality,—letting the child’s life develop
after the laws of its nature and not after arbitrary laws forced upon
him from above. This is the pivotal point in all our work.
No poet, painter, sculptor, builder, musician, writer or worker of
any kind has ever done abiding work who did it apart from the spirit.
It is a child’s nature to sing, play, dance or reproduce in some way
that which impresses him. Impressions must be expressed in order to
become a part of us. If the deeds of Siegfried, King Alfred or George
Washington impressed the child he will tell about the hero that he
admires. Here the wise teacher finds a basis for his formal work. The
interest the child has in the deeds of his hero will tide him over the
otherwise drudgery of spelling, composition and language forms. The
heroic spirit of the hero has become his and he is not afraid of the
task. Furthermore, the love he has for the hero makes the story he
tells, writes, or the picture he makes of him a sacred task. He must
do justice to the ideal hero. The teacher who telling a story has not
gotten so near to the hero that he feels the sacredness of his life
has not reached the heart of his story. There is no pattern process or
method by which this may be done. Day after day as he tells the life
story of a great hero he will catch something of the spirit of the man.
To retell a story is not to reproduce the language word for word, just
as it was first told, but to recreate it from your view point. When
the child tells a story therefore do not stop him and say, “you did
not mention so and so,” breaking up the mental picture process and
confusing the child with non-essential facts such as pronunciation,
incorrect grammar and so on. Nothing could be more deleterious and
destructive to the creative spirit. Put yourself in the child’s place.
Could you tell a story if in your presence there was a superior to
criticise your words and pronunciation?
No, let the child have the floor. It is his audience. He is responsible
for their attention. Stand with head uncovered in the presence of
this child artist and orator. Through the story he is giving back to
you the world as he sees it and understands it, creating it afresh and
telling what it means to him. When you told the story to him it was
your message to him; now it is his message to you and to the class.
Gradually, as he retells and reproduces stories, the artistic sense
grows upon him,—unity, essential points, climax, finish and so on.
Naturally as the child gives back his story he will leave out some
points originally in the story, they are not essential to his purpose,
he is giving his interpretation, and enlarging upon others and actually
bringing in new points not originally in the story, but essential to
his view point.
The teacher who with rude hands stops the child and says “That is not
the way it is in the book or the way I told it,” makes of the child
an imitator and not a creator; thwarts at the very outset one of the
greatest educational advantages of story reproduction. We do not want
to make the child tell a story as the teacher would, but in his own
way thereby giving to his work individuality. He is a separate ego and
through his personality is giving a new relation of the Divine. Day by
day as he hears the teacher and the children of his class tell stories
he will get standards of comparison by which he may measure his own
work and improve it. Correct grammar and pronunciation? yes, but not
here. The speaker, preacher or orator makes mistakes, but he would
despise you, and the audience would be disgusted, if you stopped him in
his speech to correct grammar. His message and the atmosphere he brings
are the essentials. All else should be forgotten for the time. So it
should be with the child before the class. He is the orator to reveal
to you and the class the world as he sees it. For the time being sit at
his feet and help him produce the atmosphere necessary for the telling
of the story.
Art comes from within, not from without. Do not force, do not fuss;
be quiet; wait for the child to hear the still small voice within.
At first he may be timid; it is an untried world for him. He, it is
true, has caught glimpses of storyland, seen its beauty and felt its
enchantment, but others were leading him. Now he must lead others. As
he tries he discovers that he and storyland are somehow very near to
each other. As he spreads the wings of his imagination, to his delight,
he can fly like Peter Pan, leap and run in this storyland. And soon
he will be in the wigwam with Hiawatha or sailing the high seas with
Ulysses or slaying the dragon with Siegfried. Such work comes both to
child and teacher like a benediction. And the teacher remembers and
sees new meaning in the words of the Hebrew prophet “And a little child
shall lead them.”
EDUCATIONAL STORY TELLING
BY DR. CHARLES A. McMURRAY
Good story-telling is no longer a matter of mere entertainment. It is
steadily growing into an important instrument of education. Children in
earlier years, before they can use books freely and independently, are
capable of receiving a strong contribution to their spiritual life and
equipment by hearing the rehearsal in fitting form, of the world’s best
stories. It is not merely that in this manner many of the large culture
ideas can best be transmitted from generation to generation, but the
mental awakening, the planting of seed-thoughts, the stimulation of
mental energies are brought about. The monotony and drudgery of school
work are apt to produce a sluggish mental life; the oral handling of
the best stories is like a trumpet call to many a young soul awakening
it out of its sluggishness and putting the vital forces into a stronger
movement. It is first of all necessary that teachers should catch this
spirit and receive the full force of this awakening, but a study of the
stories themselves have proven in many cases to produce this result.
THE STORY TELLERS’ LEAGUE
ITS ORIGIN AND PURPOSE
In THE WORLD’S WORK for July, 1908, was an editorial written from
materials supplied by members of the National Story Tellers’ League. As
it gave an account of the starting of the movement, we quote part of it
here, answering thereby some of the queries that are constantly being
received concerning the League. Further details on this subject will
appear in subsequent numbers of this magazine. The editorial cited was
as follows:
The Story Tellers’ League had its beginning during the summer of 1903
at the Summer School of the South, at the State University, Knoxville,
Tenn. Out of the more than 2,000 teachers there, a group frequently
met on the lawn at twilight to tell stories. These meetings had a
serious purpose, but they were free and informal. The teachers sat
on the grass, and each one told a story as she might feel disposed.
Superintendent B. C. Gregory wrote subsequently:
“The Summer School left many a pretty photograph on my memory but the
sweetest is that of the Story Tellers’ League. The fading twilight,
the dreamy quiet of the hour, the overshadowing trees, the circle
of faces, the repressed tone of voice of the story tellers appealed
wonderfully to me.
“And the child, the being to whom the service was dedicated, was
always in mind. When the darkness had fallen so that the form of the
story teller was all but invisible, the effect was heightened. We
always adjourned quietly as if we feared the gentle influences would
vanish if we were noisy.”
The attendance at these meetings grew from dozens to hundreds and
before the Summer School closed a formal organization had been
effected. The purpose of the league was to discover in the world’s
literature, in story, and in life the best stories for education and
to tell them with love and sympathy for the children, and to bring
together in story circles those who love to hear and tell a good story,
the kindergartners, teachers, church workers, children’s librarians,
and those whose hearts are afire with this work that they might impart
its spirit to others.
Dr. G. Stanley Hall, speaking of the movement soon after it was
organized said:
“Teachers and parents are prone to forget that the education of the
race in a very significant sense began with story telling. Before
writing there was only oral tradition. We are assured that some of the
Indian story tellers carry in their memory not less than one hundred
thousand lines of poetry. Some of them are dull and uninteresting
through the day, but when the camp-fires are lighted and they begin
to weave the wondrous charm of ‘once upon a time,’ they take their
hearers captive and lead them as with the magic flute of the Piper
of Hamlin. Stories live from the tongue to the ear and not on the
long circuit from the eye to the fingers as reading and writing do.
Therefore they are more vital. Stories pre-form moral choices because,
if they are good, desert is always rewarded. Moreover, a good story
brings the mind of the hearer into more unity than almost anything
else. A vast number of persons and incidents are woven together
all subject to one dominant interest. In these days of correlation
and co-ordination of educational material, the value of this can
readily be appreciated. Most, if not all, of the best of the oldest
literature that is classic, such as the Vedas, the work of Homer,
the Nibelungenlied, the King Arthur cycle, lived and moved and had
their being as stories and were thus slowly shaped into their present
effective form. Indeed, I almost think that if I were Plato’s wise
tyrant and had to appoint teachers of the young, the first test,
and if I could have but one, the only one to which I would subject
candidates would be whether or not they could tell a good story; for
this alone would test their sympathy and power of adaptation. There
is a great possibility of development here, and in the few who are
devoting themselves to it, as are the Story Tellers’ League, I not
only wish but predict a a very high degree of help and service.”
Those who went out from the inspiration of those meetings were quick to
seize upon its educational possibilities, and returning home organized
their friends and pupils into local leagues for similar work and
pleasure.
On visiting a Southern town the following winter, the Superintendent
of the Schools declared that he had noticed a great improvement in
the teaching of history and literature among his teachers, and he
attributed it to a league that they had organized. During the winter
they had made a study of Norse and Greek stories which they told
around their firesides. Similar leagues sprang up in a number of
towns in the South, and at Corinth, Miss., there was a junior league,
composed of children of the 5th grade. One girl, who is now in the
high school made her home the popular resort of the children of the
neighborhood who came to hear her tell stories. She told the better
class of stories too, in a spontaneous and creative way, as she would
play games. The work has made her life a radiant one.
Now, there are dozens of such leagues, reaching from New York to Texas.
The interest the children take in the work reveals one of the greatest
educational possibilities, for as a child likes to build a house with
clay, sand, or wood, and in doing so educates himself, so he likes to
take a word here and a phrase there, and with voice and gesture build
an ideal world, peopling it with life as he sees it. When a child
or an adult retells stories that they have heard or read, they show
reflection, meditation, self-reliance, creation, growth. A story never
really becomes your own until you tell it to someone else.
[Illustration: Decoration]
THE TRAVELING STORY TELLERS OF THE NORTHLAND
BY ANNA BOGENHOLM SLOANE
Even before Magnus Ladulos introduced the titles and privileges
of nobility as reward for service in war, which started the great
baronies in Sweden, a kind of feudal system had been in vogue there
from oldest times. The topographical conditions of the country, with
its smiling valleys and fertile plains interspersed with numerous
streams and rugged mountains was probably responsible for the origin
of this system. For these natural barriers, in the absence of modern
engineering skill in constructing bridges and tunnelled roads, were
more formidable then, and contributed to the isolation of the people
and the formation of clans.
The population consisted of only two distinct classes, the freemen
and the “thrales,” or serfs. The freemen, or “Odalmen,” as they
were called, owned the soil they tilled. The country was sparely
settled, so that there was some distance between the homesteads of the
odalmen. These homesteads were somewhat imposing, housing not only
the odalman and his family, but also a number of house men, as they
were called—fighting men and strong, a sort of guard of the fireside.
Besides these were a number of thrales, or servants. Because of
continual strife between the different petty kings of the country, the
odalmen’s homes were never safe from attack by one party or another,
hence the necessity of having as large house guards as could be
afforded.
During the long and severe winter when fighting and warfare were
impracticable life in the odalmen’s homesteads would have been
monotonous, were it not for the relief afforded by the traveling story
tellers, or “skalds,” for that was long before the day of the school,
the book and the periodical. From the hall of the kings to the burgs
of the jarls [corresponding to governors of small districts], from
the baronial castles to the odalmen’s homesteads, traveled the skalds
and the bards narrating old legends and relating the latest gossip,
singing old songs and improvising new ones, recounting the deeds of
valor and prowess on the battlefield and in the tournament, singing
the praises of beauty and chivalry, and rhyming on drinking bouts and
feasting. Not only within the bounds of Sweden did they travel, but
over continental Europe as well, entertaining one people with the songs
and legends and tales of another. Thus are the stories and lore of the
different European countries considerably intermixed. For, when the
stories the traveling skalds told of the great deeds of other countries
were repeated by their listeners, much local coloring was added until
gradually the stories of foreign lands became their own. In this way
the Swedes have adopted the stories of Germany and France, and in like
manner those countries have adopted some of the Swedish legends and
hero tales until the old literature of nearly all European countries
record nearly the same events, each nation giving to the stories the
characteristics of its own temperament and environment.
The traveling story teller was the most welcome and honored guest in
every home. He was the newspaper, the theatre, the concert and music
hall combined into one. He brought to the fireside glimpses of the
outside world, wreathed weather-beaten faces with smiles and made the
roof beams return the echo of hearty laughter. At the King’s feasts the
skald’s place was next to his majesty. To him was handed the tallest
beaker and the fattest slice of pork. The story teller was always
invited to witness battles and bouts and tournaments, so that he might
afterward recount the deeds of valor in war and the feats of feasting,
making heroes live in song and story. It was very much the same as
now, when the newspaper reporter is invited to the baseball field or to
follow the armies of warring nations so as to publish to the world the
course of events.
The personal magnetism of the skald went into the account and made
the story more vivid and its impression more lasting. Perhaps the
overstepping of actual truth in the recounting was as common among the
skalds of old as it is among our own modern newspaper reporters. Then
as now a good story was wanted, and the better the story he could tell
the stouter was the drink the teller received at its ending. So now the
more sensational details the reporter can crowd into a murder story the
nearer and surer is his promotion in rank and pay. But the old story
teller was safer from being found out, and his story was accepted at
its face value, which is not always the case with modern newspaper
yarns. It is probable that to the tumultuous imagination of the old
story tellers is due the astounding deeds of valor and the exaggerated
achievements accredited to our forefathers in the legacy of legends
that have been handed down from the ancient days.
The first story teller recorded in the Swedish lore is the maid Gifeon,
in Odin’s retinue. The tale regarding her is something as follows:
When Odin was traveling from Asia to Sweden he stopped for a while in
Denmark and in order to propitiate the Swedish King in advance sent
Gifeon in a canoe across the strait with instructions to visit King
Gylfe’s court and tell the king the most wonderful stories she could
compose about the Asas [the Asiatics]. This she did, and so pleased
was King Gylfe with her stories that he offered her as a reward as
much land, wherever she might choose in his domain, as she could plow
in a day. Gifeon secretly obtained the assistance of two giants, who,
changing themselves into oxen plowed up all the land where Melar Lake
now is and carried the soil southward and dropped it into the sea, off
the coast of Scania [the most Southern province of Sweden]. Thus was
formed the island of Sjelland, the eastern coast of which fits exactly
into the formation of the entrance to Lake Melar.
When Gifeon returned to Odin and told him of her success with King
Gylfe, he was so delighted that he gave her his son Skjold for a
husband. Together Gifeon and Skjold ruled over the newly-made island
and became the forbears of a long line of illustrious Danish Kings,
called Skjoldungs. Odin went on to Sweden, and because of Gifeon’s
wonderful stories he was kindly received by King Gylfe and his people.
The last professional story teller of the old school I know anything
about was old man Bror. What his real name was I do not know, for
everybody called him “Bror,” the Swedish for brother, and received him
as such. He never did anything but travel from place to place, telling
the oldest yarns and the latest gossip, interspersing it with fragments
of old songs and new tunes from his old violin. Well do I remember the
old man and his old white horse, Dollfoot. As a child I loved them
both and danced and skipped with glee at the sight of them. When I saw
Bror and Dollfoot turn from the country road to the lane leading to
our farm, I used to run shouting the news, “Bror is coming, Bror is
coming!” to everybody on the estate, and never a face did I see that
did not light up or put on a broader smile at my message.
Dear old man Bror! I can see him now sitting contentedly in his blue
cariol [a Swedish two-wheeled cart] with the reins in his right hand
and the other hand on the fiddle across his knee; his old white head
roofed by a nearly equally old broad-brimmed hat, the right ear leaning
confidently towards the shoulder while he hums merrily the “Sea-King’s
Polska,” and Dollfoot in slow trot keeping time to the beat of his
master’s hum! Bror always wore blue knee breeches, white hose, low
shoes with silver buckles, and a long blue coat with buttons of silver.
His horse and his violin were the only loves, the only cares and the
only prides the old man had. The buckles of Dollfoot’s harness shone
like the buttons of a new lieutenant’s uniform, and the old violin
always nestled tenderly under Bror’s left arm.
So long as Bror was able to mount the saddle he rode his horse. After
that he drove in the old cariol. For five and thirty years Bror and
Dollfoot were boon companions, known to every man, woman and child in
the province of the Dales. Then Dollfoot died and his octogenarian
master survived but a year. All mourned the mysterious old man and
missed his stories. With him passed away, about thirty years ago, the
last of the old type of traveling story tellers in Sweden.
We children used to climb up into his lap as soon as he had sat down
and clamor for a story. And the tales he told about the giants and
fairies; angels and the white Christ; Odin and Thor; Knights and
Vikings, stand out like stars in the chaos of stories I have read
since. No matter how well-worded and poetic in setting a story may
be, its reading from the printed page does not produce as striking an
impress upon the young mind as does its oral rendering well done. The
life and vigor of the teller’s interpretative inflections, intonations,
modulations and movements; the light of the eye and the expressions
of feature add a vividness, a reality that deeply impress the child’s
mind. The details may be lost in time, but the general form will
remain forever. This gives the story teller a very great influence in
the character building of the young; for the impulse to courage or
generosity or kindliness incited by a story lauding these qualities
will never wholly die. On the other hand, evil stories contaminate
young minds beyond all human power of effacement.
For the same reason that the phonograph and pianola can never take
the place of the singer and musician, the real story teller can not
be satisfactorily replaced by books. The personal element is large in
the equation. It would be an interesting study to inquire into the
influence which the professional story tellers of European and other
countries exercised, by the coloring their own personalities gave to
their stories, over the minds and conduct of the people who for so long
a time depended upon them for such mental stimulus as they had.
Between the maid Gifeon and the old man Bror was a long line of
skalds of all descriptions—gay and sad, humble and haughty; jovial
and rollicking singers; courtly raconteurs and lively comedians. Some
spread gaiety in the halls of kings and in the castles of barons.
Others carried news to the monastery and parsonage, and the humbler
were content to make the rounds of the odalmen’s firesides. All were
welcomed with equal heartiness and sped with the same regrets. Perhaps
no more picturesque persons have appeared among men, or held a more
unique place in human esteem than the traveling story tellers of the
Northland.
[Illustration: Decoration]
STORY-TELLING IN PLAYGROUNDS
BY MISS MAUDE SUMMERS
The playground movement is at its source. This is the time, therefore,
to state the underlying principles and to formulate the ideals
that shall guide in carrying the movement forward. In the end, the
playground as a finished product should give beauty and perfection not
only to the body of the child but also to the soul. It should include
training in the three H’s of head, heart and hand, as well as training
in the three R’s of reverence, respect and responsibility. No lesser
ideal will satisfy those who see the possibilities of the playground
in adding to the sum of child happiness and betterment. At present, in
the playground the chief emphasis is placed upon the development of the
body: the story reaches the Spiritual child.
The child learns in but one way by reproducing in his own activity the
thing he wishes to be. By means of the imagination the child forms a
mental picture which he holds in mind and strives to imitate. Therefore
the most vital purpose of the story is to give high ideals which are
reproduced in character. In consequence, it is of the utmost importance
that the story for the child shall have at its heart a spiritual truth,
or in other words that it shall have a right motive. This truth may be
any one of the many virtues such as generosity; kindness, hospitality,
courage, heroism, chivalry, etc. It should be worked out in terms of
cause and effect according to the immutable law of literature, whether
this be for the child or the adult. This is the law of compensation,
which rewards the good, and retributive justice, which punishes the bad.
The comic supplement of the Sunday newspaper is lowering the standard
of literary appreciation and debasing the morals of the children in
this country. Here evil is aggrandized and emphasis is placed upon
deceit, cunning and disrespect for gray hairs. This sheet teaches
children to laugh when boys throw water from an upper window upon an
apple woman, or outwit an infirm old man. Humor has its place in the
literature of childhood and it would be well if gifted writers for
children could be found capable of substituting genuine fun for the
coarse, vulgar type now so prominent.
When story telling is an integral part of the playground, thoughtful
men and women will give careful consideration to story lists which will
be carefully compiled from the literature of every age and nation.
America has undertaken the mighty problem of the fusion of races. The
great national stories that have nourished these people will also
nourish the individual child. In consequence folk stories, fairy tales,
and hero stories should form a fundamental part of these story lists.
These are universal stories which every girl and boy should know. The
characters may vary with different ages and people but the fundamental
truth is of the spirit, and will outlast the centuries.
Child study reveals the fact that there is the earlier period of
childhood, and also the later period of childhood. The games suitable
to the needs of the younger children are not adapted to those of the
older ones. This same truth should be recognized in the selection
of stories. Younger children require a different type of story from
that chosen for the older ones. The mathematical axiom that the whole
includes the parts explains the fact that the “Grown up” may enjoy
and appreciate a child’s story if it is true to the principles of
literary art. The young child, however, cannot comprehend the story
for the adult since the content is beyond his range of experience. It
is necessary, therefore to divide the children into groups based upon
age and mental development in order to have success in the art of story
telling.
The hours set apart for story-telling in the Playground will vary in
different localities and will, of course, depend upon the environment
and provision made for this aspect of the work. Two story hours a day,
one in the morning, and one in the afternoon, might be a good average.
In a small city in the middle West it was the custom of the Playground
Director to take the youngest children apart about eleven o’clock each
morning, to give them a glass of milk and a graham cracker. Immediately
after the luncheon the children grouped themselves around the Director
for a half hour or more of story telling. Meantime the older children
carried on without supervision their regular sports and games in
the playground. A second story hour might be set apart in the late
afternoon for the older children. All who have tried it will testify to
the refining influence of this quiet hour upon girls and boys.
In the municipal playgrounds which have been built in so many cities,
large and small, there is always a house known as the Recreation
Center. If the playground is in a noisy section of the city near
railroads, elevated trains, or factories, the children should be taken
into one of the rooms of this neighborhood house for the story hour. On
the contrary, where there is no shelter a tent or one of the portable
school houses now so frequently used could be provided to meet this
need. Here a group of children could cluster to listen to the story.
Travelers who have been in Japan tell us that it is not an unusual
sight to see a booth within which a professional story-teller takes his
place. Parents and children alike bring their pennies in payment and
then gather about this TELLER OF TALES to listen to the best stories in
Japanese literature. These are chosen with the greatest care and are
told with beauty of diction, and with great emphasis placed upon purity
of tone, in the use of language. We hear so much to-day of the American
voice and its strident quality, that this story hour might have a
far-reaching influence for good not only upon literary appreciation in
regard to story contents, but also upon English conversation and the
improvement of the American voice.
An important question is, who shall tell these stories? The large
municipal playgrounds provide for special teachers in the gymnastic
work, in swimming, and in the different branches of physical
development for girls and boys. Why not also engage professional
story tellers to go to the playground at certain hours of the day?
Librarians, kindergartners, and social workers are now having excellent
training in children’s literature. From these sources story tellers can
be secured to meet the growing demand for story-telling as an integral
feature of the playground.
Another development of the story will be the dramatization of the
great hero tales. The cheap theaters of the day are doing an untold
amount of harm by giving to children false ideals of life. The best
way to overcome this evil is to recognize the need for dramatic
expression and allow children to set out their favorite stories. For
instance, if archery grounds are provided, the children will naturally
gravitate toward them after listening to the Robin Hood Ballads. On a
summer afternoon a beautiful out-of-door pageant could be enacted by
Robin Hood and his Merry Men. The stories of King Arthur, with proper
training on the physical side, might lead to a tournament as the most
interesting event of the playground season. This close relation between
impression and expression finds a unifying centre in dramatization
which appeals alike to young and old. Properly developed and directed,
it will eventually create an appreciation for the good, the true, and
the beautiful in music, art and literature.
The playground is the key to the Democracy of art. Let us hope that
those interested in the playground movement will have that diffused,
imaginative ardor of the Prophets of old, when young men saw visions
and old men dreamed dreams.
WINTER AND THE PINE TREE[1]
[1] This story is freely translated from the German as told in Alues
und Neues, a book of easy German stories by Karl Seeligman, published
by Ginn and Co. (Ed.)
When God the Lord had created the world, when the trees, fresh and
beautiful, stood in the forest and the flowers in the field, he called
the seasons and said: “You may divide the trees and flowers among
yourselves, but you must love and care for them.” This made the seasons
very happy and they played with the children of nature early and late.
All went very well for a time, but soon discord began to appear. Bold,
restless Spring could not get along with plodding thoughtful Winter;
the glowing Summer found Autumn phlegmatic; Autumn scolded Spring
because she spoiled the flowers. The quarrel grew worse from day to day
and all joy was at an end.
Thereupon Autumn said: “Things can go on this way no longer; we cannot
get along together. Come let us divide the earth among ourselves.” And
this is what happened. The seasons divided the earth among themselves.
Winter built himself two houses at the two poles; Summer encircled the
earth at the middle, and Spring and Autumn took the realm in between.
The earth was now apportioned and each season had a realm of his own.
But fickle Spring soon brought to pass another change. She did not like
the idea of remaining always in one place and therefore called the
seasons together and made them this proposition: “Why should we always
remain in one place when the entire earth belongs to us? Would it not
be better if each of us had a definite time in which the entire earth
belonged to him alone?” “I should be satisfied,” said Winter, “if I
could keep the poles.” As the other seasons were satisfied with the
idea, the agreement was made. Spring wanted to begin her rule at once
and so thoughtful winter said:—“In order that one may not take all the
beauties of the earth for himself, let us divide them!”
“Good,” said Spring, “I will take the buds.”
“To me shall belong the flowers,” said Summer. “The fruits are mine!”
cried Autumn, “and Winter shall have the leaves of the trees!”
Winter was satisfied, the agreement was made and Spring began her
rule. She kissed the flowers till the buds came out and smiled at
her. When the buds were opening, the rule of Summer began. But now
something happened by means of which poor Winter came to be cheated. A
warm friendship began to spring up between the leaves on the trees and
the flowers in the grass. They often teased one another. When the sun
wished to shine warm upon the flowers, the leaves of the trees placed
themselves between, but before the flowers thought of it, the leaves
bent away so that the sun beams fell suddenly upon the flowers and
blinded them. Or, during a cool rain, the leaves collected many drops,
and when the flowers thought that the rain was over, they let the drops
fall down. This startled the flowers and they shook their heads.
In the meantime the rule of Summer had come to an end. Autumn sat on
the throne of the earth and wished to pick the late flowers. Then the
leaves came and begged Autumn to let them go down to the flowers. And
Autumn granted their wish, even though he did not have the right to do
so. He shook the trees so that the loose leaves all fell to the earth.
And then a gay time began! Autumn played a wild melody, and the leaves
danced among the flowers, till they, tired and faint, let their heads
hang. Soon the leaves themselves laid down for a long sleep.
Now winter came. Bare and deserted, meadow and forest received him. The
only green that greeted him was the pine trees, because the flowers
would have nothing to do with their sharp needles. Winter was deeply
moved when he saw them, and while he was whipping off the last leaves
which were still hanging on the trees here and there against their
will, he said to the pine trees: “I will protect and guard you. When
all other trees stand bare and desolate, you shall glisten in the
freshest green, because you were true to me!”
This is the story of Winter and the Pine Tree.
ARTHUR AND THE SWORD
Once there was a great king in Britain named Uther, and when he died
the other kings and princes disputed over the kingdom, each wanted it
for himself. But king Uther had a son, the rightful heir to the throne,
of whom no one knew, for he had been taken away secretly while he was
still a baby, by a wise old man called Merlin, who had him brought up
in the family of a certain Sir Ector, for fear of the malice of wicked
knights. Even the boy himself thought Sir Ector was his father, and he
loved Sir Ector’s son, Sir Kay, like an own brother. The boy’s name was
Arthur.
When the kings and princes could not be kept in check any longer,
Merlin had the archbishop of Canterbury send for them all to come to
London. They came up to London at Christmas time, and in the great
cathedral a solemn service was held, and prayer was made that some
miracle be given, to show who was the rightful king. When the service
was over, there appeared a strange stone in the churchyard, against the
high altar. It was a great white stone, like marble, with something
sunk in it that looked like a steel anvil; and in the anvil was driven
a great glistening sword. The sword had letters of gold written on it,
which read: “Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is
rightwise king born of all England.”
All wondered at the strange sword and its strange writing; and when the
archbishop himself came out and gave permission, many of the knights
tried to pull the sword from the stone, hoping to be king. But no one
could move it a hair’s breadth.
“He is not here,” said the archbishop, “that shall achieve the sword;
but doubt not, God will make him known.”
Then they set a guard of ten knights to keep the stone, and the
archbishop appointed a day when all should come together to try at the
stone,—kings from far and near. In the mean time, splendid jousts were
held, outside London, and both knights and commons were bidden.
Sir Ector came up to the jousts, with others, and with him rode Kay and
Arthur. Kay had been made a knight at Allhallowmas, and when he found
there was to be so fine a joust he wanted a sword, to join it. But he
had left his sword behind, where his father and he had slept the night
before. So he asked young Arthur to ride for it.
“I will well,” said Arthur, and rode back for it. But when he came to
the castle, the lady and all her household were at the jousting, and
there was none to let him in.
Arthur said to himself, “My brother Sir Kay shall not be without
a sword this day.” And he remembered the sword he had seen in the
churchyard. “I will ride to the churchyard,” he said, “and take that
sword with me.” He rode into the churchyard, tied his horse to the
stile, and went up to the stone. The guards were all away at the
tourney, and the sword was there alone.
Young Arthur went up to the stone, took the great sword by the handles,
and lightly and fiercely he drew it out of the anvil.
Then he rode straight to Sir Kay with it, and gave it to him.
Sir Kay knew instantly that it was the sword of the stone, and he rode
off at once to his father and said, “Sir, lo here is the sword of the
stone; I must be king of the land.” But Sir Ector asked him where he
got the sword. And when Sir Kay said, “From my brother,” he asked
Arthur how he got it. When Arthur told him, Sir Ector bowed his head
before him. “Now I understand ye must be king of this land,” he said to
Arthur. “Wherefore I?” said Arthur.
“For God will have it so,” said Ector; “never man should have drawn out
this sword but he that shall be rightwise king of this land. Now let me
see whether ye can put the sword as it was in the stone, and pull it
out again.”
Straightway Arthur put the sword back.
Then Sir Ector tried to pull it out, and after him Sir Kay; but neither
could stir it. Then Arthur pulled it out. Thereupon Sir Ector and Sir
Kay kneeled upon the ground before him.
“Alas,” said Arthur, “mine own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to
me?”
Sir Ector told him, then, all about his royal birth, and how he was
stolen away by Merlin. But when Arthur found Sir Ector was not truly
his father, he was so sad at heart that he cared not greatly to be
king. And he begged his father and brother to love him still. Sir Ector
asked that Sir Kay might be seneschal when Arthur was king. Arthur
promised with all his heart.
Then they went to the archbishop and told him that the sword had found
its master. The archbishop appointed a day for the trial to be made
in the sight of all men, and on that day the princes and knights came
together, and each tried to draw out the sword, as before. But as
before, none could so much as stir it.
Then came Arthur, and pulled it easily from its place.
The knights and kings were terribly angry that a boy from nowhere in
particular had beaten them, and they refused to acknowledge him king.
They appointed another day, for another great trial.
Three times they did this, and every time the same thing happened.
At last, at the feast of Pentecost, Arthur again pulled out the sword
before all the knights and the commons. And then the commons rose up
and cried that he should be king, and that they would slay any one who
denied him.
So Arthur became king of Britain, and all gave him allegiance.
LOCAL LEAGUE WORK
HOW ONE LEAGUE WAS FORMED
BY MISS MABEL COOPER
The Story Teller’s League, which has done so much towards reviving and
encouraging the almost forgotten art of story-telling in the city of
Memphis, owes its origin to Prof. Wharton S. Jones, one of the leading
educators of Tennessee.
Prof. Jones is assistant superintendent of the Memphis City Schools
and in November, 1907, he issued an invitation to his teachers to
meet him for the purpose of forming a Story Tellers’ League. About
forty teachers responded and the League was organized with Prof.
Jones as president; Mrs Fannie Landis, vice-president; Miss Mary
Herron, secretary, and an executive committee composed of Miss Mable
Solly, Mrs. L. B. Mitchell, Miss Florence Schloss and Miss Elizabeth
Shield. At this meeting it was decided that the membership should not
be limited to teachers in the city schools but to all interested in
telling or learning how to tell stories. The membership constantly
increased until at the close of the first year there were almost one
hundred members, among which were many teachers from both public and
private schools, Sunday schools, prominent club members and ministers.
At the second general meeting of the League the executive committee
had completed and ready for distribution a most attractive Year Book
showing an outline for the year’s work. To defray the cost of printing
these year books, each member was asked to purchase two of them at
twenty-five cents each. No other dues were asked except an earnest
co-operation and willingness to take part in the programs.
There is a special line of stories for study at each meeting and a
leader who assigns the numbers and conducts the meetings. The numbers
on the program consist of two or three short papers on the origin,
time, place and value of the particular line of stories discussed, then
two or three stories followed by a discussion. The meetings are held
Saturday morning two weeks apart.
One of the most pleasing incidents connected with last year’s meetings
was the visit of Dr. Richard T. Wyche, President of the National Story
Tellers’ League. Dr. Wyche was most encouraging in his remarks to us
and delighted us with several of his stories.
The Memphis League belongs to the National Story Tellers’ League, and
sent delegates to the Annual Convention held at Knoxville, Tenn., in
July 1908. Last year’s work was devoted principally to stories for
primary and intermediate grades. We will proceed along the same line
this year, giving more attention to stories suitable for higher grade
children.
The executive committee is, at present, working on the year book for
1908-9. On October 7, we held our first meeting.
The League is yet in its infancy, but it has gained a popularity most
remarkable for so young an organization. It is recognized as a very
powerful instrument for accomplishing good and its influence is felt
far beyond the city in which it thrives. Our year books have been
sent, by request, to many parts of the country and we are ready to
give what help we can, by way of suggestions, to aid others in forming
leagues. The power of story-telling is limitless. Story work stands
to the children for what books, poetry, drama, sermon and art are to
the adult. The child should be constantly in touch with the best in
Literature,—stories within his comprehension, stories that may be woven
into his experiences, that will arouse his emotions and lead him to a
spontaneous expression of his ideas.
To this end the Story Tellers’ League is seeking to develop splendid
story tellers of its grown-up members so that they may reach and help
the little child. Truly it has a noble ambition; for, as Philip Brooks
says, “He who helps a child helps humanity with a distinctness, with an
immediateness which no other help given to human creatures in any other
stage of their human life can possibly give again.”
REPORTS FROM LEAGUES IN SUMMER SCHOOLS
THE WOOSTER (OHIO) SCHOOL
Four summers ago the writer called a meeting in one of the rooms of
Taylor Hall—one of the University buildings used by the Summer School.
A tentative organization was formed and meetings held until permanent
organization was effected. The meetings were then held in the evening
on the campus in front of Kanke Hall or the Memorial Chapel. A
Kindergartner was also engaged by the management of the school to tell
stories for a day or two. Each summer since a similar arrangement has
been made and now a regular story-hour in the Model School is planned
for in addition to weekly meetings of the League. This meets on the
Library steps Saturday evenings at 6:30. Old familiar college and
folk songs are sung, then the story-teller or story-tellers tell their
stories, other songs follow and then all go home happier and better.
The story hour is an event here—several times within the past ten
summers five or six hundred listeners were seated in a circle round the
story-teller and we may safely predict that the League has a permanent
place in the Summer School program. Commercial reasons, if no other,
will compel it.
The attendance at the story hour is not confined to students in the
Summer School—many of the leading citizens and summer visitors make it
convenient to drop around at that time and join the magic circle. We
have been able to discover some splendid story-tellers each summer, and
the great myths and classics of the race have been splendidly told and
added much to the lives of many.
Kipling, Van Dyke, Dickens and other masters have been quoted and
several interesting, original stories and adaptations of translations
have been given. The type of story has been the very highest. Much
folk-lore study and legendary investigation has been the outcome of it
all. And if the writer had done nothing else during the four years he
was a member of the Faculty of Wooster Summer School than to organize
and keep alive the Story Tellers’ League, he would have no reason to be
ashamed.
It is now finally established on a high level, and will live as
long as the Summer School. It will serve as the inspiration to many
teachers to learn the fine art, thus placing within the reach of the
little children of the Republic the golden key to the world’s great
Literatures, and will give to teachers the secret of making children
feel at home when at school and keeping them in touch with the heart
strings of the future citizens of our country. So mote it be.
J. E. MCKEAN.
FROM THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA
Among the pleasantest hours of the week at the University of Virginia
Summer School, last July, were the twilight story-telling hours on
the campus. Somehow there was the true Golden Age atmosphere, perhaps
enhanced by the beautiful old academic building and grounds; the
trees and the birds; the soft air and genial spirit of the South. At
any rate, men and women listened rapt to the “Once upon a time,” and
lost themselves in forgotten fairy tales, portions of the old epics,
folk-lore, personal anecdote, funny stories, and ghost stories. Of
course, there were good story-tellers present, among them being Mr.
Woodley of New Jersey, Miss Wiggins of North Carolina, Miss King of
Virginia, Mr. Ruediger of Washington, D. C., and Mr. Augsburg of
California. Best of all were the biblical and folk-lore stories by
Mr. Wyche, president of the Story Tellers’ League. It is Mr. Wyche’s
distinction to tell his stories with a simple Homeric directness
impossible to describe but which appeals alike to the child listener
and to the jaded professor of English.
Occasionally, when the spirit moved, old songs were sung out of the
hearts of those present,—Maryland, My Old Kentucky Home, Carry Me Back
to Old Virginia, Annie Laurie, Suwanee River. Then more stories, and,
finally, dispersal over the campus in singing, chatting groups.
A. S. B.
FROM EMPORIA, KANSAS
Meetings were held at Emporia, Kansas, in the State Normal Summer
School during the second week in July. Sometimes as many as six hundred
would gather on the Campus just at sunset, play games for a while and
then sit on the grass and steps of the main building that opened to
the glow of the west. Here for an hour or more stories and songs were
rendered. The stories were told largely by members of the faculty,
while the students interspersed the program with the popular national
airs and melodies. From this large audience, a small group have
organized themselves into a League.
FROM KNOXVILLE, TENNESSEE
At the Summer School of the South, the birthplace of the League, the
usual twilight meetings were held on Thursday and Sunday. The Summer
School at Knoxville had an unusually large attendance and a very full
schedule, with lectures every evening, yet the League always found time
for its meeting just after supper. On Sunday evening, there being no
exercises in the school, the twilight meetings were unusually large
and interesting. Programs of the great religious hymns and appropriate
stories from the Bible and other sources were given.
The young people came in such large numbers to these twilight meetings
that it was found necessary to organize them into a Junior League. They
were enthusiastic, met nearly every evening and told their stories and
sang their songs in a creative refreshing way.
The time set apart for the annual meeting of the National League, July
17 at ten A. M. in Jefferson Hall, was devoted to a memorial to Joel
Chandler Harris, who was a charter member of the League. The President
of the League called the meeting to order and introduced Supt. Claxton,
who presided and gave a brief talk.
The Georgia delegates, a hundred or more strong, sang “Massa’s in the
Cold, Cold Ground.” Mrs. Legg, of Georgia, recited an original poem
in memory of Harris. Dr. C. Alphonso Smith, Professor of English,
University of North Carolina, gave an address on Joel Chandler Harris
and his place in literature. Mr. R. T. Wyche told one of the Uncle
Remus stories written by Joel Chandler Harris. The attendance was about
two thousand.
BIG RAPIDS, MICHIGAN
A large and enthusiastic league was formed at Ferris’ Institute, Big
Rapids, Mich., July 1907, and held a number of meetings.
During the past summer the meetings have continued. A picture of the
League has reached us but no report.
R. T. W.
BOOK REVIEWS
TELLING BIBLE STORIES. _By Mrs. Louise Seymour Houghton; Scribners._
If, as we believe, the story is one of the best ways to reach and
nourish the child’s inner spiritual being, then we must go to the
greatest source of spiritual stories, the Bible. To those who have
been imbued with modern thought, science and education, and yet feel
the wonderful power and value of the Bible, hardly knowing how to meet
conditions as they exist, Mrs. Louise Seymour Houghton’s book, “Telling
Bible Stories,” will come as a welcome supply to a real need. She
points out how the literal accuracy takes care of itself, if the truth
underlying goes to the child’s heart. The book is for adults, leading
them to analyze the stories and get at the real meaning, and with that
knowledge to construct his own story to suit the needs of the child
from three years of age to the adult period. It recognizes the child’s
growing knowledge of history, science, geography, myth, fable, poetry,
etc., and yet points out, however valuable and interesting this is,
that the Bible has this illuminating difference, that it is saturated
with God consciousness.
PEARL CARPENTER.
HOW TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN. _By Sara Cone Bryant; Houghton,
Mifflin Co.,1905; pp. vii, 260. $1.00_
This book is intended primarily for the teachers of the kindergarten
and of the primary and intermediate grades. It opens with an
introduction on story telling in general, which is followed by chapters
successively on the purpose of story-telling in the school; selection
of stories to tell; adaptation of stories for telling; how to tell the
story; and some specific schoolroom uses. The second half of the book
is devoted to 32 selected stories arranged in three groups,—one for
the kindergarten and grade I, and one for grades II and III, and one
for grades IV and V. The book closes with a bibliography for the story
teller, which must prove to be a veritable gold mine for the teacher
and parent and is easily one of the most helpful chapters in the
book. As a sample of the good things the book contains, we reproduce
elsewhere in this number of the STORY HOUR one of the stories from the
third group entitled, “Arthur and the Sword.”
W. C. R.
THE CONSTITUTION AND BY-LAWS
OF THE
NATIONAL STORY TELLERS’ LEAGUE
ARTICLE I.
TITLE.
The official title of this association shall be “THE NATIONAL STORY
TELLERS’ LEAGUE.”
ARTICLE II.
OBJECT.
The objects of the association shall be:
1. To encourage the art of story-telling, and the use of classic and
folk-lore stories in schools and other educational centers.
2. To foster creative work in the arranging and rewriting of stories
from various classic and historic sources.
3. To serve as a medium of exchange of stories and experiences in the
use of the story.
4. To discover in the world’s literature, in history, and in life the
best stories for education, and to tell them with love and sympathy for
the children, and to bring together in story circles those who love
to hear and tell a good story, the kindergartners, teachers, church
workers, children’s librarians, and those whose hearts are afire with
this work, that they might impart its spirit to others.
ARTICLE III.
MEMBERSHIP.
Any person may become a member of the League by sending the name and
address with the annual fee to the Secretary and Treasurer of the
League, or to the Vice-President of his State; or by joining a local
league and paying to the proper officer the fee due the National League.
ARTICLE IV.
OFFICERS.
1. The general officers of the League shall be a President, a Secretary
and Treasurer, and an Editor.
2. There shall, in addition to the foregoing, be a Vice-President for
each state or province having membership in the League.
3. There shall be a Governing Board consisting of seven members, three
of whom shall be the general officers of the League, and the other four
members to be appointed by the President.
ARTICLE V.
ELECTION OF OFFICERS.
1. The President shall be elected annually at a general meeting of the
League at a place and time designated by the President after he shall
have consulted with the Governing Board. Any member present shall be
considered a delegate, and shall be entitled to a vote in any of the
proceedings of the meeting. The President so elected shall hold office
for one year, or until his successor shall have been elected.
2. The President, as soon as may be after his election, shall appoint
the other officers therein before named, and these shall serve the same
length of term as the President.
ARTICLE VI.
DUTIES OF OFFICERS.
1. The President. All the duties usually incumbent upon the office of
President of any association shall devolve upon the President of this
association. In addition to the usual duties of a presiding officer, he
shall appoint all the other officers of the League.
2. The Secretary and Treasurer shall perform all the duties usually
incumbent upon such officers.
3. The Editor shall select and edit all matter offered for publication,
make, in conjunction with the President, contracts with a publisher,
and perform all other duties usually pertaining to such an office.
4. The Governing Board shall have the power to make and adopt a
constitution and by-laws, and make laws and regulations in accordance
therewith for the government of the association; and shall perform all
other duties of an advisory and executive nature.
5. The Vice-President shall look after the interest of the League
in their respective States, and endeavor to enlist the interest and
co-operation of the teachers of their States. Each Vice-President shall
exercise a general supervision of the local Leagues of his State, and
advise and assist in the organization of such Leagues. He shall be on
the alert to collect any folk-lore of his locality and State.
ARTICLE VII.
DUTIES OF MEMBERS AND LOCAL LEAGUES.
It shall be the duty of local Leagues and individual members everywhere
to report to the President or Editor, or to the Vice-President of the
State, any folk-lore they may find.
ARTICLE VIII.
AMENDMENTS.
This constitution may be amended by a majority vote of the Governing
Board and Vice-Presidents, or by a majority vote of the delegates
in any annual meeting. Any member or local League may petition the
Governing Board for an amendment.
ARTICLE IX.
This Constitution shall go into effect as soon as it shall have
received the assent of a majority of the Governing Board.
BY-LAWS[2]
1. The annual membership fee of this association shall be half-dollar,
to be paid to the Treasurer direct, or to the Vice-President of the
State, or, if a member of a local League, then to the proper officer of
such a League.
2. Subordinate, or local, Leagues may be formed in any community in
accordance with the regulations prescribed by the National League. Such
local Leagues when organized may adopt their own laws and rules of
procedure, provided nothing shall be done which is not in accord with
the constitution of the National League.
The Governing Board shall devise and prescribe rules for the
organization of subordinate Leagues.
3. The Subordinate Leagues shall be responsible to the National League
for annual fee of ten cents a member due the National League by local
members. For Junior Leagues there shall be no fee.
4. The general officers shall make an annual report to the general
meeting of the League.
5. No officer of the League shall draw a salary.
6. The fees collected from members shall be devoted exclusively to
paying the expenses which the general officers and vice-presidents have
incurred in the exercise of their duties.
[2] Subject to amendments at each annual meeting.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Story Hour, Vol. I, No. 1, November, 1908 - A Magazine of Methods and Materials for Story Tellers" ***
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