"Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

But few have given its children that delightful epitome of the songs of spring birds which has piped with irrepressible freshness now for nearly four centuries:

"Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!"

I have never known the child who did not respond to Kipling's engine song:

"With a michnai-ghignai-shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah!"

Every child creates these wonderful sound interpretations of the world. We smile a smile of indulgence when we hear them. And then we forget them! Cannot we seize some of them however imperfectly and learn to build them into the structure of our stories? It was more or less this kind of thing that I had in mind in writing Marni's stories and "The Room with the Window Looking Out Upon the Garden" which as I have said elsewhere are types to be told rather than narratives to be read. And I feel sure if we could once make a beginning that the children themselves would soon take the matter into their own hands and create their own building blocks.

For children are primarily creators. They do not willingly nor for long maintain the passive role. This should be reckoned with in stories and not merely as a concession to restless children but as a real aid to the story. An active role should be provided for the children somewhere within every story until the children are old enough to have a genuinely impersonal interest in things and events and until they do not need a motor expression of their thoughts. For as I have already said, up to that age,—and it is for psychologists to say when that age is,—children think in terms of themselves expressed through their own activities. This active role should be used not merely as a safety valve of expression to keep the child a patient listener, but as a tool by which he may become aware of the form of thought and language. It is interesting that the children to whom these stories have been read, have seized upon the rhyme refrains as their own and after a few readings have joined in saying them as though this were their natural portion. It is with this hope that I have tried to make the refrains not mere interludes in the story, as they usually are, but the real skeleton, the intrinsic thought pattern, the fundamental design. In "How the Singing Water Gets to the Tub" and "How Spot Found a Home," for instance, the refrains taken by themselves out of the context, tell the whole story. It is too soon to say, but I am strong in the hope that through relish for this kind of active participation in written stories, a small child may become captivated by the play side of the stories as opposed to the content and so turn to language as play material in which to fashion patterns of his own.

For the sake of analysis, I have treated content and form separately. But I am keenly aware that the divorce of the two is what has made our stories for children so unsatisfactory. We have good ideas told without charm of design; and we have meaningless patterns which tickle the ear for the moment but fade because they spring from no real thought. Literature is only achieved when the thought pattern and the language pattern exactly fit. A refrain for the mere sake of recurrent jingle, that has no genuine no essential recurrence in the thought, is a trick. If the pattern does not help the thought and the thought suggest the pattern, there is something wrong. It is an artifice, not art. This matching of content and form is nothing new. It is and always has been the basis of good literature. The task that is new is to find thought sequences, thought relations which are truly childlike and the language design which is really appropriate to them,—to make both content and form the child's.

As I said at the beginning, so must I say at the end. These stories are experiments, experiments both in content and form. To have any value they must be treated as such. The theses underlying them have been stated for brevity's sake only in didactic form. In reality, they lie in my mind as open questions urgently in need of answers. But I do not hope much from the answers of adults,—from the deaf and blind writers to the hearing and seeing children. The answers must come from the children themselves. We must listen to children's speech, to their casual everyday expressions. We must gather children's stories. Mothers and teachers everywhere should be making these precious records. We must study them not merely as showing what a child is thinking, but the way he is thinking and the way he is enjoying. It is the hope that these stories may be tried out with children, the hope of reaching others who may be watching and listening and working along these lines, the hope that we may gather records of children's stories which will become a basis for a real literature, the hope that somewhere among grown-ups we may find an ear still sensitive to hear and an eye still fresh to see,—it is this hope that has given me the courage to expose these pitifully inadequate adult efforts to speak with little children in their own language. Some one must dare, if only to give courage to the better equipped. And if we dare enough, I am sure the children will come to our rescue. If we let them, they will lead us. Whatever these stories hold of merit or of suggestiveness is due to the inspiration and tolerance of the courageous group of workers in the City and Country School and in the Bureau of Educational Experiments and in particular to Caroline Pratt without whom these stories would never have been dreamed or written; and above all to the children themselves, for whom the stories were written and to whom they have been read, both in the laboratory school and in my own home. To those then, who wish to follow the lead of little children, to those who have the curiosity to know into what new paths of literature children's interest and children's spontaneous expression of those interests will lead, and to the children themselves, I send these stories.

LUCY SPRAGUE MITCHELL.

New York City July, 1921.



MARNI TAKES A RIDE IN A WAGON

The refrains in this story were first made up during the actual ride. Later they served to recall the experience with vividness. This story is given only as a type which any one may use when helping a two-year-old to live over an experience.



MARNI TAKES A RIDE IN A WAGON

One day Marni went for a ride. Little Aa, he climbed into Sprague's wagon and Marni, she climbed in behind him. Then Mother took the handle and she began to pull the wagon with little Aa and Marni in it. And Mother she went:

Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, And Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog!

And the wheels, they went, (with motion of hands):

Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, And Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round!

And then Mother was tired. So she stopped. And Marni said, "Whoa, horsie!"

Then Little Aa said, "Ugh, ugh!" for he wanted to go.

But Marni said, "Get up, horsie!" for she wanted to go too. So Mother took hold of the handle and went:

Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, And Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog!

And the wheels they went:

Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, And Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round!

And then Mother was tired. So she stopped, and Marni said, "Whoa, horsie!"

Then Little Aa said, "Ugh, ugh!" for he wanted to go. But Marni said "Get up, horsie!" for she wanted to go too. So Mother took hold of the handle and went,

Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, And Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog, jog, jog, jog, Jog!

And the wheels they went:

Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, And Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round, round, round, round, Round!

And then Mother was very, very tired. So she stopped. And Marni said, "Whoa, horsie!"

Then Little Aa said, "Ugh, ugh!" for he wanted to go again. But Marni said "Get up, horsie!" for she wanted to go too. But Mother she was very, very, VERY tired. She had jogged, jogged, jogged so long and made the wheels go round, round, round, round, so much! So she said, "The ride is all over!" Then Little Aa climbed down out of the wagon and Marni climbed down out of the wagon. And Marni said, "Goodbye, wagon!" and ran away!



MARNI GETS DRESSED IN THE MORNING

This story, obviously, is for a particular little girl. It is told in the terms of her own experience, of her own environment, and of her own observations. It is nothing more or less than the living over in rhythmic form of the daily routine of her morning dressing. Her story remarks are either literal quotations or adaptations of her actual every day responses. The little verse refrains are the type of thing almost anyone can improvise. I have found that any simple statement about a familiar object or act told (or sung) with a kind of ceremonious attention and with an obvious and simple rhythm, enthralls a two-year-old. The little girl for whom this story was written began embryonic stories before her second birthday. The water-soap-sponge episode is an adaptation of one of her first narrative forms. This story is meant merely as a suggestion of the way almost anyone can make language an every day plaything to the small child she is caring for.



MARNI GETS DRESSED IN THE MORNING

Once there was a little girl and her name was Marni Moo. Marni used to sleep in a little bed in mother's room. In the morning Marni would wake up and she would say "Hello, Mother." And then in a minute she would say, "I want to get up."

And mother would say:

"Hoohoo, Marni Moo. I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming for you."

Then mother would get up and she'd come over and she'd unfasten the blanket and she'd take little Marni Moo in her arms and she'd walk into Marni's bath-room and she'd take off Marni's nightgown and Marni's shirt. And then she'd get a little basin, and she'd put some water in it, and she'd get some soap and she'd get a sponge and she'd wash little Marni Moo. She'd wash Marni's face and then she'd wash Marni's hands, and Marni would put one hand in the basin and she'd splash the water like this:— Then she'd put another hand in the basin and she'd splash the water like this:— Then mother would wipe both hands and she'd throw the water down the sink and she'd put away the soap and the sponge. And Marni would watch mother and then she'd say:



"Where water? Where soap? Where sponge?

Water gone away! Soap gone away! Sponge gone away!"

And after that what do you suppose Marni would say?

"Shirt, shirt." And mother would put Marni's shirt over her head and say:

"Peek-a-boo, Marni Moo, Marni's head is coming through."

and then mother would button up Marni's shirt.

And then Marni would say "Waist, waist." Then while mother put on Marni's waist she would say:

"Here's one hand And here's another. Marni's a sister And Robin's a brother."

And then Marni would say, "Drawers, drawers." And while mother put on Marni's drawers she would say:

"Here's one foot And here's another. Marni's a sister And Peter's a brother."

And then Marni would say, "Stockings, stockings." And mother would put on one stocking on her left foot, and then she'd put on another stocking on her right foot. And then she'd fasten the garters on one stocking, and then she'd fasten the garters on the other stocking. And all the time mother would keep saying:

"Here's one leg And here's another. Marni's a sister And Jack-o's a brother."

Then Marni would say, "Shoe, shoe." And mother would put one shoe on her left foot and then she'd put on the other shoe on her right foot. And then she'd say again:

"Here's one foot And here's another. Marni's a sister And Robin's a brother."

And then Marni would say, "Hook, hook." And mother would get the button-hook and then she'd button up the left shoe and then she'd button up the right shoe. And all the time she was buttoning up first one shoe and then the other shoe Marni would say:

"Look, look, Hook, hook."

And when the shoes were all buttoned up, mother would hit first one little sole and then the other little sole, and say:

"Now we're through Tit, tat, too. Here a nail, there a nail, Now we're through."

Then Marni would run and get her romper and bring it to mother calling, "Romper, romper." And mother would put on her romper, singing:

"Romper, romper Who's got a romper? Little Marni Moo She's got two. One is a yellow one And one is blue. Romper, romper Who's got a romper?"

And then Marni would say, "Button, button." And mother would button up her romper all down the back. First one button and then another button and then another button and then another button, and then another button and then another button until they were buttoned all down the back.

And then Marni would say, "Sweater." And mother would put on her little blue sweater saying:

"Sweater, sweater Who's got a sweater? Little Marni Moo She's got two. One is a yellow one And one is blue. Sweater, sweater, Who's got a sweater?"

And then Marni would say, "Hair." And mother would get the brush and comb and brush Marni's hair. And all the time she was brushing it she would say:

"Brush it so And brush it slow. Brush it here And brush it there. Brush it so And brush it slow. And brush it here And brush it there And brush it all over your dear little head."

And then Marni would say, "All ready." And mother would put her down on the floor.

Then Marni would say:

"Where my little pail? My little pail gone away. I want my little pail Come, little pail."

And mother would give her her little pail. And Marni would put one nut in her pail, and then she'd put another nut in her pail, and then she'd put another nut in her pail. And then she'd put a marble in her pail, and then she'd put another marble in her pail, and then she'd put another marble in her pail. And then she'd put her quack-quack in her pail, and then she'd put her fish in her pail, and then she'd put her frog in her pail. Then she would shake her pail with all of the nuts and the marbles and the quack-quack and the frog and the fish, and they would all go bingety-bang, crickety-crack, bingety-bang, crickety-crack.

And Marni would say, "Bingety-bang, crickety-crack. Where Jack-o?" And Marni would run to find Jack-o, and she would say, "Jack-o, hear bingety-bang, crickety-crack." And she would rattle her little pail with all the nuts and the marbles and the quack-quack and the fish and the frog. Then she'd say, "Where Peter?" And Marni would run to find Peter, and she would say, "Peter, hear bingety-bang, crickety-crack." And she would rattle her little pail with all the nuts and the marbles and the quack-quack and the fish and the frog.

Then mother would call, "Breakfast, breakfast. Anyone ready for breakfast?"

And Jack-o would call back, "I am, I am, I am ready for breakfast."

And Peter would run as fast as he could calling, "I am, I am, I am ready for breakfast."

And last of all would come little Marni Moo calling, "Breakfast, breakfast."

Then the two boys would chase Marni to the breakfast table saying:

"Marni Mitchell, Marni Moo, Run like a mousie Or I'll catch you."

And Marni would scimper scamper like a mousie until she reached the breakfast table.

Then they would all have breakfast together.



THE ROOM WITH THE WINDOW LOOKING OUT ON THE GARDEN

In this story written for a three-year-old group, I have tried to present the familiar setting of the classroom from a new point of view and to give the presentation a very obvious pattern. I want the children to take an active part in the story. But before they try to do this I want them to have some conception of the whole pattern of the story so that their contributions may be in proper design, both in substance and in length. That is the reason I give two samples before throwing the story open to the children. If each child has a part which falls into a recognized scheme, through performing that part he gets a certain practice in pattern making in language,—however primitive—and also a certain practice in the technique of co-operation which means listening to the others as well as performing himself. I have not tried to add anything to their stock of information,—merely to give them the pleasure of drawing on a common fund together.



THE ROOM WITH THE WINDOW LOOKING OUT ON THE GARDEN

Once there was a little girl. She was just three years old. One morning she and her mother put on their hats and coats right after breakfast. They walked and walked and walked from their house until they came to MacDougal Alley. And then they walked straight down the alley into the Play School. Now the little girl had never been to the Play School before and she didn't know where anything was and she didn't know any of the children and she didn't even know her teacher! So she asked her mother, "Which room is going to be mine?" And her mother answered, "The one with the window looking out on the garden."

And sure enough, when the little girl looked around there was the sun shining right in through a window which looked out on a lovely garden! She knelt right down on the window sill to look out.



Then she heard some one say, "Little New Girl, why don't you take off your things?" She turned around and there was Virginia talking to her. "Because I don't know where to put them," said Little New Girl. "How funny!" laughed Virginia, "because see, here are all the hooks right in plain sight," and she pointed under the stairs. So the little girl took off her hat and her mittens. Her mother had to unbutton the hard top button but she did all the rest. Then she hung up everything on a hook.

"Goodbye," said her mother. "Goodbye," said Little New Girl. "Don't forget to come for me because I don't know where anything is and I don't know the children and I don't even know my teacher." And her mother answered, "No, I won't." And then she was gone.

"Now, Little New Girl, what do you want to do?" said her teacher. But the little girl only shook her head and said, "I don't know anything to do." One little boy said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." And what did he show her? He took her over to the shelves and he showed her the blocks. "You can build a house or anything with them," said the little boy.

Then another little girl said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." And what did this other little girl show her? She showed her the dolls. "You can put them into a house," said this other little girl.

"Who else can show Little New Girl something to do?" called her teacher. "Will you, Robert?" So what did Robert show her? (Give child ample time to think. If he does not respond go on.) Robert took her over to the shelves and showed her the paper and crayons. "You can draw ever so many pictures," said Robert.

Then Virginia said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." So what did Virginia show her?—Virginia showed her the horses and wagons. "You can harness them up," said Virginia.

Then Craig said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." So what did Craig show her?—Craig showed her the beads. "You can string them in strings," said Craig.

Then Peter said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." So what did Peter show her?—Peter showed her the clay. "You can make anything you want out of it," said Peter.

Then Tom said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." So what did Tom show her? Tom showed her the saw and hammer and nails. "You can saw or hammer nails," said Tom.

Then Barbara said, "Let me show Little New Girl something." So what did Barbara show her? Barbara showed her the paper and scissors. "You can cut out anything you want," said Barbara.

"Now Little New Girl, what do you want to do?" said her teacher. And this time the little girl jumped right up and down and said, "I'm glad! I want to do everything." "But which thing first?" asked her teacher. "Let me watch," the Little New Girl said.

So Little New Girl stood quite still. She saw Robert go and get some paper and crayons and sit down at his little table to draw. She saw Virginia get some horses and harness and sit down at her little table to harness them. She saw Craig get some beads and sit down at his little table to string them. She saw Peter get the clay and sit down at his little table to model. She saw Tom go to the bench and begin to saw a piece of wood. She saw Barbara get some paper and scissors and paste and sit down at her little table to cut out and to paste.

Then she said, "I want to draw first." So she took some paper and some colored crayons and she sat down at a little table near the window looking out on the garden. There she drew and she drew and she drew. And she didn't feel like a Little New Girl at all for now she knew where everything was and she knew all the children and she knew her teacher.



THE ROOM WITH THE WINDOW LOOKING OUT ON THE GARDEN

I know a yellow room With great big sliding doors And a window on the side Looking out upon a garden. There's a balcony above With a bench for carpenters With planes and saws and hammers, Bang! bang! with nails and hammers. There are hooks beneath the stairs To hang up hats and coats, And nearby there's a sink With everybody's cup. There's a rope and there's a slide Zzzip! but there's a slide. There are shelves and shelves and shelves With colored silk and beads, With paper and with crayons, And a great big crock with clay. And the're blocks and blocks and blocks And blocks and blocks and blocks And the're horses there and wagons And cows and dogs and sheep, And men and women, boys and girls With clothes upon them too. And then the're cars to make a train With engine and caboose.[B] And the're lots of little tables In this yellow, yellow room For boys and girls to sit at And play with all those things. And there's a great big floor In this yellow, yellow room For boys and girls to sit on And play with all those things. And there is lots of sunshine In this yellow, yellow room For boys and girls to sit in And play with all those things.

[B] At this point the teacher might ask, "What else?" Not the first time, however. The children must get the outline as a whole before they contribute. Otherwise they will be entirely absorbed by the content.



THE MANY-HORSE STABLE

All the material for this story was supplied by a three-year-old. The pattern was added. An older child would not be content with so sketchy an account. But it seems to compass a three-year-old's most significant associations with a stable. The title is one in actual use by a four-year-old class.



THE MANY-HORSE STABLE



Once there was a stable. The stable was in a big city. Downstairs in the stable there were many g-r-e-a-t b-i-g wagons and one little-bit-of-a wagon. And on the walls there were many g-r-e-a-t b-i-g harnesses and one little-bit-of-a harness. And there were many g-r-e-a-t b-i-g blankets and one little-bit-of-a blanket. And there were some g-r-e-a-t b-i-g whips and one little-bit-of-a whip. And there were some g-r-e-a-t b-i-g nose bags and one little-bit-of-a nose bag. Upstairs in the stalls there were some g-r-e-a-t b-i-g horses and one little-bit-of-a pony.

In the morning the men would come and harness up the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g horses with the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g harnesses to the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g wagons. They would put in the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g blankets and the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g whips and the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g nose bags. Then they would get up on the seats and gather up the reins and off down the street would go the g-r-e-a-t b-i-g horses. Clumpety-lumpety bump! thump! Clumpety-lumpety bump! thump!

Then a little-bit-of-a man would harness up the little-bit-of-a pony with the little-bit-of-a harness to the little-bit-of-a wagon. He would put in the little-bit-of-a blanket and the little-bit-of-a whip and the little-bit-of-a nose bag. Then he would get up on the seat and gather up the reins and off down the street would go the little-bit-of-a pony! Lippety-lippety! lip! lip! lip! Lippety-lippety! lip! lip! lip!



MY KITTY

Here there is no plot. Instead I have attempted to enumerate the associations which cluster around a kitten, and present them in a patterned form.



MY KITTY

Meow, meow! Kitty's eyes, two eyes, yellow eyes, shiny bright eyes. Meow, meow! Kitty's pointed ears, pink on the inside, fur on the outside. Meow, meow! Kitty's mouth, little white teeth and whiskers long. Meow, meow! Kitty's fur, soft to stroke like this, like this.

Prrrr, prrrr, Little fur ball cuddled close to the warm, warm fire. Prrrr, prrrr, Little padded feet pattering soft to get her milk. Prrrr, prrrr, Little pink tongue, lapping up the milk from her own little dish. Prrrr, prrrr, Warm little, round little, happy little kitten snuggled in my arms.

Pssst, pssst! Stiff little kitten, spitting at a dog. Pssst, pssst! Hair standing up on her humped-up back. Pssst, pssst! Sharp white teeth, sharp, sharp, claws. Pssst, pssst! Ready to jump and to bite and to scratch.

Kitty, kitty, kitty, You funny little cat, I never know whether you'll purr or spit You funny little cat!



THE ROOSTER AND THE HENS

An objective story tied in with the personal.



THE ROOSTER AND THE HENS

Once there was an egg. Inside the egg there was a little chicken growing, for the mother hen had sat on it for three weeks. When the chicken was big enough he wanted to come out and so he went pick, peck, pick, peck, until he made a little hole in the shell. Then he stuck his bill through the hole and wiggled it until the shell cracked and he could get his head through. Then he wiggled it a little more and the shell broke and he could get his foot out. And then the shell broke right in two.

As soon as the little chicken was out he went scritch, scratch, with his little foot. Then he ran to a little saucer of water. He took a little water in his bill; then he held his head up in the air while the water ran down his throat. The mother hen went:

"Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck,"

and the little chicken ran to her calling:

"Cheep, cheep, cheep."

Then he heard a funny little noise. He looked around and what do you think he saw? Another egg was cracking because another little chicken was going pick, peck inside. Soon out of the shell came a little baby brother. And then he heard another funny little noise, and another shell broke and out of the shell came a little baby sister. And then he heard another little noise and another shell broke and out of the shell came still another little sister. This went on until there were a lot of yellow baby chickens. Then all the little chickens went scritch, scratch, with their little feet looking for worms, and all the little chickens took a drink of water and held up their heads to let the water run down their throats. And all the little chickens ran to the mother hen calling:

"Cheep, cheep, cheep."

Now all the little chickens began to grow. The little sisters all got little bits of combs on the tops of their heads and under their bills. Their little yellow feathers turned into all kinds of colors. But the little brother chicken, he got a great big red comb on the top of his head and under his bill, and he got long spurs on his ankles. On his neck the feathers grew long and yellow and behind on his tail they grew very long and all shiny green.

He was walking around one morning while it was still dark when suddenly he felt a funny feeling in his throat. He wanted to open his mouth. So he did, and out of his mouth this is what came:

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, Cock-a-doodle-doo."

He thought it sounded perfectly wonderful; so he opened his mouth again and out came the same sound:

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, Cock-a-doodle-doo."

Now when his sister hens heard this wonderful rooster-noise they all came running out of the chicken house. This made the rooster more pleased than ever. So he threw his head way back and he opened his beak wide and he crowed:

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, Cock-a-doodle-doo, I'm twice as smart as you, Cock-a-doodle-doo, See what I can do."

When his sister hens heard him say this each one began to cluck and say:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I'm going to lay an egg, an egg."

Then the rooster answered:

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, I don't believe it's true. Cock-a-doodle-doo, I don't believe it's true."

So the little black and white hen, she ran into the barn and up on the side of the wall she saw a little box. She jumped into the little box and there she laid an egg. Then she said:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Robert. Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Robert."

Then the little yellow hen she jumped right into the manger and she wiggled around in the straw until she made a little nest where she laid an egg. Then she said:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Martha. Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Martha."

Then the little black hen she saw another little box nailed on to the wall so she jumped up on it and she laid an egg and then she said:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Tom, for Tom, Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Tom."

And then the little white hen she could not find any place at all. She ran around and around. Finally she sat right down in the soft dust which by this time the sun had made all warm, until she made a little round hollow and there she laid an egg. Then she said:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Peter. Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, I laid an egg for Peter."

When the rooster saw all these eggs he opened his mouth again and bragged:

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, What they say is true. See what they can do, Cock-a-doodle-doo."

And the little hens answered:

"Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, We can lay an egg, an egg, Cut-cut-cut, cadaakut, We can lay an egg."

And if ever you are out in the country early in the morning you will hear the wonderful rooster-noise. And then you will hear the hens telling how many eggs they have laid for you.



THE LITTLE HEN AND THE ROOSTER

The little hen goes "cut cut cut." The rooster he goes "cock a doodle doo! You want me and I want you, But I'm up here and you're down there." The little hen goes "cut cut cut," The rooster he steps with a funny little strut, He cocks his eye, gives a funny little sound, He looks at the hen, he looks all around, He flaps his wings, he beats the air, He stretches his neck, then flies to the ground. "Cock a doodle, cock a doodle, cock a doodle doo! Now you have me and I have you!"



MY HORSE, OLD DAN

This verse utilizes a child's love of enumeration and of movement. The School has found it the most successful of my verse for small children.



MY HORSE, OLD DAN

Old Dan has two ears Old Dan has two eyes Old Dan has one mouth With many, many, many, many teeth.

Old Dan has four feet Old Dan has four hoofs Old Dan has one tail With many, many, many, many hairs.

Old Dan can w a l k, w a l k, Old Dan can trot, trot, trot, Old Dan can run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, Many, many, many, many miles.

* * *

Horsie goes jog-a-jog-a-jog The wheels go round and round and round. Horsie goes jog-a-jog-a-jog Oh, hear what a rattlety, tattlety sound! Horsie goes jog-a-jog-a-jog The wheels they pound and pound and pound. Horsie goes jog-a-jog-a-jog While the wagon it rattles along the ground!



Auto, auto. May I have a ride? Yes, sir, yes, sir, Step right inside. Pour in the water, Turn on the gasolene, And chug, chug, away we go Through the country green.



HOW SPOT FOUND A HOME

This story was worked out with the help of a five-year-old boy who supplied most of the content. It at once suggested dramatization to various groups of children to whom it was read. The refrains are definite corner posts in the story and are recognized as such by the children.



HOW SPOT FOUND A HOME

Once there was a cat. She was a black and white and yellow cat and the boys on the street called her Spot. For she was a poor cat with no home but the street. When she wanted to sleep, she had to hunt for a dark empty cellar. When she wanted to eat, she had to hunt for a garbage can. So poor Spot was very thin and very unhappy. And much of the time she prowled and yowled and howled.



Now one day Spot was prowling along the fence in the alley. She wanted to find a home. She was saying to herself:

"Meow, meow! I've no place to eat, I've no place to sleep, I've only the street! Meow, meow, meow!"

Then suddenly she smelled something. Sniff! went her pink little nose. Spot knew it was smoke she smelled. The smoke came out of the chimney of a house. "Where there is smoke there is fire," thought Spot, "and where there is fire, it is warm to lie." So she jumped down from the fence and on her little padded feet ran softly to the door. There she saw an empty milk bottle. "Where there are milk bottles, there is milk," thought Spot, "and where there is milk, it is good to drink." So she slipped in through the door.

Inside was a warm, warm kitchen. Spot trotted softly to the front of the stove and there she curled up. She was very happy, so she closed her eyes and began to sing:

"Purrrr, purrrr, Curling up warm To a ball of fur, I close my eyes And purr and purr. Purrrr, purrrr, Purrrr, purrrr."

Bang! went the kitchen door. Spot opened one sleepy eye. In front of her stood a cross, cross woman. The cross, cross woman scowled. She picked up poor Spot and threw her out of the door, screaming:

"Scat, scat! You old street cat! Scat, scat! And never come back!"

With a bound Spot jumped back to the fence.

"Meow, meow! I've no place to eat, I've no place to sleep, I've only the street. Meow, meow, meow!"

So she trotted along the fence. In a little while sniff! went her little pink nose again. She smelled more smoke. She stopped by a house with two chimneys. The smoke came out of both chimneys! "Where there are two fires there must be room for me," thought Spot. She jumped off the fence and pattered to the door. By the door there were two empty milk bottles. "Where there is so much milk there will be some for me," thought Spot. But the door was shut tight. Spot ran to the window. It was open! In skipped Spot. There was another warm, warm kitchen and there was another stove. Spot trotted softly to the stove and curled up happy and warm. She closed her eyes and softly sang:

"Purrrr, purrrr, Curling up warm To a ball of fur, I close my eyes And purr and purr. Purrrr, purrrr, Purrrr, purrrr."

"Ssssspt!" hissed something close by. Spot leapt to her feet. "Ssssspt!" she answered back. For there in front of her stood an enormous black cat. His back was humped, his hair stood on end, his eyes gleamed and his teeth showed white.

"Ssssspt! leave my rug! Ssssspt! leave my fire! Ssssspt! leave my milk! Ssssspt! leave my home!"

Spot gave one great jump out of the window and another great jump to the top of the fence. For Spot was little and thin and the great black cat was strong and big. And he didn't want Spot in his home.

Poor Spot trotted along the fence, thinking:

"Meow, meow, I've no place to eat, I've no place to sleep, I've only the street, Meow, meow, meow."

In a little while she smelled smoke again. Sniff! went her little pink nose. This time she stopped by a house with three chimneys. The smoke came out of all the chimneys! "Where there are three fires there must be room for me," thought Spot. So she jumped off the fence and pattered to the door. By the door were three empty milk bottles! "Where there is so much milk there must be children," thought Spot and then she began to feel happy. But the door was shut tight. She trotted to the window. The window was shut tight too! Then she saw some stairs. Up the stairs she trotted. There she found another door and in she slipped. She heard a very pleasant sound.

"I crickle, I crackle, I flicker, I flare, I jump from nothing right into the air."

There on the hearth burned an open fire with a warm, warm rug in front of it. On the rug was a little table and on the table were two little mugs of milk. Spot curled up on the rug under the table and began to sing:

"Purrrr, purrrr, Curling up warm To a ball of fur, I close my eyes, And purr and purr. Purrrr, purrrr, Purrrr, purrrr."

Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat! Spot heard some little feet coming. A little boy in a nightgown ran into the room. "Look," he called, "at the pretty spotted cat under our table!" Then pat, pat, pat, pat, pat! And a little girl in a nightgown ran into the room. "See," she called, "the pussy has come to take supper with us!" Then the little boy, quick as a wink, put a saucer on the floor and poured some of his milk into it and the little girl, quick as a wink, poured some of hers in too.

In and out, in and out, in and out, went Spot's pink tongue lapping up the milk. Then she sat up and washed her face very carefully. Then she curled up and closed her eyes and began to sing. That was her way of saying "Thank you, little boy and little girl! I'm so glad I've found a home!"

"Purrrr, purrrr, Purrrr, purrrr, Purrrr, purrrr, purrrr."



THE DINNER HORSES THE GROCERY MAN

The material for these stories came from questions and observations on the part of three- and four-year-olds arising largely from their trips on the city streets. The children should be allowed to name the various kinds of food.



THE DINNER HORSES

In a certain house on a certain street there lives a certain little girl and her name is Ruth (one of children's names). She sleeps in a little bed in a room with a big window opening on to the street. She sleeps all night in the little bed with her eyes closed tight. In the morning she opens her eyes and it's just beginning to get light. Then she stretches and stretches her legs. Then she stops still and listens. For she hears him coming, coming, coming down the street. Clopperty, clopperty, clopperty, clop! comes the milk horse down the street! He stops in front of Ruth's house. Ruth hears him. Then she hears the driver jump out and pat, pat, pat, she hears his feet coming to the door. Clank, clink, clank, go the milk bottles in his hands. Clank! she hears him put them down. Then fast she hears his feet, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat. "Go on, Dan!" she hears him call, and clopperty, clopperty, clopperty, clop! off goes the milk horse down the street.

Then after a while she hears something else. It's quite light now. Ruth thinks it must be time to get up. She stretches and stretches her legs. Then she stretches and stretches her arms. Then she stops still and listens.

For she hears him coming, coming, coming down the street. Clippety, lip, lip, lip, clippety, lip, lip, lip! comes the bread horse down the street. He stops in front of Ruth's house. Ruth hears him. Then she hears the driver jump out and pat, pat, pat, she hears his feet coming to the door. Rattle, crackle, goes the paper as he puts down the loaves of bread all wrapped up to keep them clean. Then fast she hears his feet, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat. "Go on, Bill!" she hears him call and clippety, lip, lip, lip, clippety, lip, lip, lip! off goes the bread horse down the street.

After breakfast when Ruth is all ready to go to school she hears a big auto coming down the street. Kachug-a-chug-a-chug comes the grocery auto down the street. It stops at Ruth's house. Ruth runs and looks out of the window. She sees the driver jump out and take from the back of the auto a basket all full of things. She can see spinach and potatoes and a package of sugar and——and——and——.

Then pat, pat, pat, the driver runs to the door. Prrrrrr! she hears the bell ring and Ruth knows that the driver is giving Bessie all the things at the kitchen door. Then pat, pat, pat back comes the driver, jumps into the auto and kachug-a-chug-a-chug! off goes the grocery auto down the street!

On the way to school Ruth passes another wagon. Rattling and clattering, she hears the butcher's wagon come down the street. "Is there anything in that wagon for us?" asks Ruth. And her mother answers, "Yes, a little chicken." Then rattling and clattering off to Ruth's house goes the butcher's wagon down the street.

Now while Ruth is away at school Bessie washes the spinach and chops it up fine and puts it on the stove to boil. She puts the little chicken in a pan and puts it in the oven to roast. Then she puts some big potatoes in the oven to bake. Then she slices some bread and cuts off a piece of butter and pours out some glasses of milk.

When Ruth comes home from school she smells something good. "Dinner's all ready," calls Bessie. Ruth answers, "Come father, come mother. I'm hungry."

So Ruth and her father and mother sit down at the table and they drink the milk and they eat the bread and the spinach and the potatoes and the chicken which the milk horse and the bread horse and the grocery auto and the butcher's wagon brought in the morning.





THE GROCERY MAN

Prrrip! prrrip! prrrip! the telephone rings in the grocery store. "Hello," says the grocery man. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ruth's mother. Good morning, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Good morning, Ruth's Mother. What can I send you today?"

"Please, Mr. Grocery Man, send me some potatoes and some graham crackers and a package of sugar and some carrots."

"Is that all, Ruth's Mother?"

"Yes, that's all. Goodbye, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Goodbye, Ruth's Mother."

So the grocery man hangs up the telephone and takes a basket and in the basket he puts some potatoes, some graham crackers, a package of sugar and some carrots.

Then prrrip! prrrip! prrrip! the telephone rings again.

"Hello!" says the Grocery Man. "Who is this?"

"This is John's Mother. Good morning, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Good morning, John's Mother. What can I send you today?"

"Please, Mr. Grocery Man, send me some spinach and some apples and some butter and some eggs."

"Is that all, John's Mother?"

"Yes, that's all. Goodbye, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Goodbye, John's Mother."

So the Grocery Man hangs up the telephone and takes another basket and in the basket he puts some spinach and some apples and some butter and some eggs.

Then prrrip! prrrip, prrrip! the telephone rings another time.

"Hello!" says the Grocery Man. "Who are you?"

"I'm Robert's Mother. Good morning, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Good morning, Robert's Mother. What can I send you today?"

"Please, Mr. Grocery Man, send me some prunes and some macaroni and some salt and some oatmeal."

"Is that all, Robert's Mother?"

"Yes, that's all. Goodbye, Mr. Grocery Man."

"Goodbye, Robert's Mother."

So the Grocery Man hangs up the telephone and takes another basket and in the basket he puts some prunes and some macaroni and some salt and some oatmeal. Then he carries Ruth's basket out and puts it in a wagon on the street. Then he carries John's basket out and puts it in the wagon. At last he carries Robert's basket out and puts that in the wagon with the others. Then the driver jumps to the seat and gathers up the reins and says "Go on, Old Dan," and clopperty, clopperty clop! off goes Old Dan down the street.

Old Dan goes clopperty, clopperty, clop till he gets to Ruth's house and there he stops. The driver jumps out and takes the basket and pat, pat, pat, go his feet running to the door. Prrrr! he rings the bell and gives Ruth's mother the potatoes, the graham crackers, the sugar and the carrots. Then pat, pat, pat, he is back in the wagon. "Go on, Old Dan," and clopperty, clopperty, clop! off goes Old Dan down the street.

Old Dan goes clopperty, clopperty, clop till he gets to John's house and there he stops. The driver jumps out and takes another basket and pat, pat, pat go his feet running to the door. Prrrr! he rings the bell and gives John's mother the spinach, the apples, the butter and the eggs. Then pat, pat, pat, he is back in the wagon. "Go on, Old Dan," and clopperty, clopperty, clop! off goes Old Dan down the street.

Old Dan goes clopperty, clopperty, clop till he gets to Robert's house and there he stops. The driver jumps out, takes another basket and pat, pat, pat, he is at the door. Prrrr! he rings the bell and gives Robert's mother the prunes, the macaroni, the salt and the oatmeal. Then pat, pat, pat, he is back in the wagon. "Go on, Old Dan," and clopperty, clopperty, clop! off goes old Dan down the street.

So Old Dan goes clopperty, clopperty, clop from house to house until he has left a basket with everybody who telephoned to the grocery man in the morning.



THE JOURNEY

This story, which is an adaptation of a five-year-old's story quoted in the introduction, embodies the details given to me by another three-year-old child. The sound of the train should be intoned, as it was in the original telling.



THE JOURNEY

Once Ruth's father was going to take a journey. He got out his suitcase. And in his suitcase he put his slippers, his pajamas, his tooth brush, some tooth paste, some clean underclothes, some clean shirts, some collars, some socks and some handkerchiefs. Then he kissed Ruth goodbye as she lay asleep in her bed and he kissed her mother goodbye and with his suitcase in his hand went up to the Pennsylvania Station.

At the train he met the negro porter. "What berth, sir?" said the porter. "Lower 10", said Ruth's father. So the porter took the suitcase and put it down at Number 10 which was all made up into two beds, one above the other, with green curtains hanging in front. Then Ruth's father undressed. And in a few minutes he was asleep behind the green curtains.

Soon the train started and Ruth's father never woke up. "Thum," said the train (on many different keys) all through the night. "Thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. Philadelphia! Thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. Baltimore! Thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. Washington!"

Then Ruth's father got up and dressed himself, for it was morning. The negro porter carried his suitcase to the platform. "Goodbye, sir," he said. "Goodbye, Porter," said Ruth's father. And then he went off to a hotel.

The next day it was time for him to go home. So Ruth's father packed his suitcase again. In his suitcase he put his slippers, his pajamas, his tooth brush, some tooth paste, his dirty underclothes, his dirty shirts, his collars, his socks and his handkerchiefs. Then he went to the Pennsylvania Station in Washington.

At the train he met another negro porter. "What berth, sir?" said the porter. "Upper 6," said Ruth's father. So the porter took the suitcase and put it in the top bed of Number 6. Ruth's father climbed up into the upper berth. Then he undressed and in a few minutes he was asleep behind the green curtains.

Soon the train started. "Thum," said the train, though Ruth's father never heard it he was so sound asleep. "Thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. Baltimore! Thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. Philadelphia! Thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum; thum, thum, thum, thum. New York!"

Then Ruth's father got up and dressed himself for it was morning. The negro porter carried his suitcase to the platform. "Goodbye, sir," he said. "Goodbye, Porter," said Ruth's father.

Then Ruth's father jumped into a taxi and in a few minutes he was at home. Ruth came running down the stairs. "Here's father," she cried. "Here's father in time for breakfast!" "My," said Ruth's father, giving her a hug, "It's good to be home!"



PEDRO'S FEET

Here there is a definite attempt to let the sounds tell their own story.



PEDRO'S FEET

Little Pedro was a dog. He lived in New York City. He was owned by a little boy who loved him. For Pedro had big brown eyes and curly brown hair and when he wanted anything he would go:

"Hu-u-u, hu-u-u, hu-u-u!" And any one would have loved Pedro.

One day Pedro was lying on his front steps in the warm, warm sun. He put his nose on his little fore paws and went to sleep.

"Bzbzbzbzbzbzbzbzbz!" went a little fly in his ear.

"Yap, yap!" went Pedro's jaws as he snapped at the fly. But he missed the fly.

"Bzbzbzbzbzbzbzbzbz!" went the little fly.

"Yap, yap!" went Pedro's jaws. But he missed the fly again.

"Bzbzbzbzbzbzbzbzbz!"

"Yap, yap, yap!"

"Bzbzbzbzbzbzbzbzbz!"

"Yap, yap, yap, yap!"

Up jumped Pedro. "I can't sleep with that fly in my ear! I'll take a walk!" Down the steps he went. Skippety, skippety, skippety, skippety. He reached the sidewalk. On the sidewalk went his feet. You could hear them as they beat. Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter down the street.

When he came to the end of the block, he started across the street. Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter pat——

"Honk, honk! Look out, look out! Honk, honk!"

Jump-thump! went Pedro's feet. Jump-jump jump-jump, jump-jump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, jump-jump, jump-jump, jump-jump, pitter patter, pitter patter,—he'd reached the other side! And the auto hadn't hurt him!

Again on the sidewalk went his feet. You could hear them as they beat pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter down the street.

When he came to the end of this block, he started across the next street.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter pat——

"Clopperty, clopperty, clopperty, clopperty! Get out of my way, get out of my way! Clopperty, clopperty, clopperty, clopperty!"

Jump-thump! went Pedro's feet. Jump-jump jump-jump, jump-jump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, jump-jump, jump-jump, jump-jump, pitter patter, pitter patter,—he'd reached the other side! And the horse hadn't hurt him either!

Again on the sidewalk went his feet. You could hear them as they beat,—pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter down the street.

When he came to the end of this block, he started across the next street.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter pat—— Pedro stopped with one little front foot up in the air. In the middle of the street stood a man. He had on high rubber boots and he held a big hose.

Shrzshrzshrzshrzshrz—came the water out of the hose. It hit the street. Splsh splsh splsh splsh splsh! It ran in a little stream into the hole in the gutter,—gubble, gubble, gubble, gubble, gubble! This was something new to Pedro. He didn't understand.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter. He thought he'd better find out about it.

"Hie, you little dog! Look out!" shouted the man.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter.

"Hie, you little dog. I say look out!"

Pitter patter, pitter pat—ssssssssss bang! the water hit him!

"Ki-eye! yow! yow!" Kathump, kathump, kathump, kathump; kathump, kathump, kathump, kathump! Fast, fast went Pedro's feet, running, tearing down the street.

"Ki-eye! I'm going home!" Kathump, kathump, kathump, kathump! Down the sidewalk, 'cross the street, 'nother sidewalk, 'nother street, kathump, kathump, kathump, kathump! Pedro was at home. Skippety, skippety up the stairs. Pedro was at his own front door.

He stopped. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr—he shook himself. He scattered the water all around.

"Bow, wow, I'm glad I'm home! Bow, wow, I'm glad I'm home!"

Then he lay down in the warm, warm sun. And he put his nose on his little fore paws. And he closed his eyes and he went to sleep.

"Bzbzbzbzbzbzbzbzbz!"

But Pedro was too sound asleep to hear the fly.

"Whe-whuhuhu, whe-whuhuhu, whe-whuhuhu." That's the way he was breathing. For he was oh, so sound asleep! And there he is sleeping now.



HOW THE ENGINE LEARNED THE KNOWING SONG

This story stresses the relationship of use in response to what seems to be a five-year-old method of thinking.

The school has found it best to let the younger children take the parts individually but to omit the parts in unison. The joy of the mere noise makes it difficult to bring them back for the close of the story. All the children have repeated the refrains after a few readings with evident enjoyment.



HOW THE ENGINE LEARNED THE KNOWING SONG

Once there was a new engine. He had a great big boiler; he had a smoke stack; he had a bell; he had a whistle; he had a sand-dome; he had a headlight; he had four big driving wheels; he had a cab. But he was very sad, was this engine, for he didn't know how to use any of his parts. All around him on the tracks were other engines, puffing or whistling or ringing their bells and squirting steam. One big engine moved his wheels slowly, softly muttering to himself, "I'm going, I'm going, I'm going." Now the new engine knew this was the end of the Knowing Song of Engines. He wanted desperately to sing it. So he called out:

"I want to go But I don't know how; I want to know, Please teach me now. Please somebody teach me how."

Now there were two men who had come just on purpose to teach him how. And who do you suppose they were? The engineer and the fireman! When the engineer heard the new engine call out, he asked, "What do you want, new engine?"

And the engine answered:

"I want the sound Of my wheels going round. I want to stream A jet of steam. I want to puff Smoke and stuff. I want to ring Ding, ding-a-ding. I want to blow My whistle so. I want my light To shine out bright. I want to go ringing and singing the song, The humming song of the engine coming, The clear, near song of the engine here, The knowing song of the engine going."

Now the engineer and the fireman were pleased when they heard what the new engine wanted. But the engineer said:

"All in good time, my engine, Steady, steady, 'Til you're ready. Learn to know Before you go."



Then he said to the fireman, "First we must give our engine some water." So they put the end of a hose hanging from a big high-up tank right into a little tank under the engine's tender. The water filled up this little tank and then ran into the big boiler and filled that all up too. And while they were doing this the water kept saying:

"I am water from a stream When I'm hot I turn to steam."

When the engine felt his boiler full of water he asked eagerly:

"Now I have water, Now do I know How I should go?"

But the fireman said:

"All in good time, my engine, Steady, steady, 'Til you're ready, Learn to know Before you go."

Then he said to the engineer, "Now we must give our engine some coal." So they filled the tender with coal, and then under the boiler the fireman built a fire. Then the fireman began blowing and the coals began glowing. And as he built the fire, the fire said:

"I am fire, The coal I eat To make the heat To turn the stream Into the steam."

When the engine felt the sleeping fire wake up and begin to live inside him and turn the water into steam he said eagerly:

"Now I have water, Now I have coal, Now do I know How I should go?"

But the engineer said:

"All in good time, my engine, Steady, steady, 'Til you're ready. Learn to know Before you go."

Then he said to the fireman, "We must oil our engine well." So they took oil cans with funny long noses and they oiled all the machinery, the piston-rods, the levers, the wheels, everything that moved or went round. And all the time the oil kept saying:

"No creak, No squeak."

When the engine felt the oil smoothing all his machinery, he said eagerly:

"Now I have water, Now I have coal, Now I am oiled, Now do I know How I should go?"

But the fireman said:

"All in good time, my engine, Steady, steady, 'Til you're ready. Learn to know Before you go."

Then he said to the engineer, "We must give our engine some sand." So they took some sand and they filled the sand domes on top of the boiler so that he could send sand down through his two little pipes and sprinkle it in front of his wheels when the rails were slippery. And all the time the sand kept saying:

"When ice drips, And wheel slips, I am sand Close at hand."

When the new engine felt his sand-dome filled with sand he said eagerly:

"Now I have water, Now I have coal, Now I am oiled, Now I have sand, Now do I know How I should go?"

But the engineer said:

"All in good time, my engine, Steady, steady, 'Til you're ready. Learn to know Before you go."

Then he said to the fireman, "We must light our engine's headlight." So the fireman took a cloth and he wiped the mirror behind the light and polished the brass around it. Then he filled the lamp with oil. Then the engineer struck a match and lighted the lamp and closed the little door in front of it. And all the time the light kept saying:

"I'm the headlight shining bright Like a sunbeam through the night."

Now when the engine saw the great golden path of brightness streaming out ahead of him, he said eagerly:

"Now I have water, Now I have coal, Now I am oiled, Now I have sand, Now I make light, Now do I know How I should go?"



And the engineer said, "We will see if you are ready, my new engine." So he climbed into the cab and the fireman got in behind him. Then he said, "Engine, can you blow your whistle so?" And he pulled a handle which let the steam into the whistle and the engine whistled (who wants to be the whistle?) "Toot, toot, toot." Then he said, "Can you puff smoke and stuff?" And the engine puffed black smoke (who wants to be the smoke?), saying, "Puff, puff, puff, puff, puff." Then he said, "Engine, can you squirt a stream of steam?" And he opened a valve (who wants to be the steam?) and the engine went, "Szszszszsz." Then he said, "Engine, can you sprinkle sand?" And he pulled a little handle (who wants to be the sand?) and the sand trickled drip, drip, drip, down on the tracks in front of the engine's wheels. Then he said, "Engine, does your light shine out bright?" And he looked (who wants to be the headlight?) and there was a great golden flood of light on the track in front of him. Then he said, "Engine, can you make the sound of your wheels going round?" And he pulled another lever and the great wheels began to move (who wants to be the wheels?) Then the engineer said:

"Now is the time, Now is the time. Steady, steady, Now you are ready.

Blow whistle, ring bell, puff smoke, hiss steam, sprinkle sand, shine light, turn wheels!

'Tis time to be ringing and singing the song, The humming song of the engine coming, The clear, near song of the engine here, The knowing song of the engine going."

Then whistle blew, bell rang, smoke puffed, steam hissed, sand sprinkled, light shone and wheels turned like this: (Eventually the children can do this together, each performing his chosen part.)

"Toot-toot, ding-a-ding, puff-puff, Szszszszsz, drip-drip, chug-chug."

(After a moment stop the children)

That's the way the new engine sounded when he started on his first ride and didn't know how to do things very well. But that's not the way he sounded when he had learned to go really smooth and fast. Then it was that he learned really to sing "The Knowing Song of the Engine." He sang it better than any one else for he became the fastest, the steadiest, the most knowing of all express engines. And this is the song he sang. You could hear it humming on the rails long before he came and hear it humming on the rails long after he had passed. Now listen to the song.

(Begin very softly rising to a climax with "I'm here" and gradually dying to a faint whisper)

"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm Coming, I'm Coming, I'm Coming, I'm Coming. I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE, I'M HERE. I'm Going, I'm Going, I'm Going, I'm Going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going, I'm going."



THE FOG BOAT STORY

The refrains must be intoned if not sung to get the proper effect. Most of the informational parts of the original story have been cut out. The story grew out of questions asked before breakfast on foggy days, and was originally told to the sound of the distant fog horns.



THE FOG BOAT STORY

Early, early one morning, all the fog boats were talking. This is the way they were going:

"Toot, toot, toot, too-oot, to-oo-oot!" (on many different keys.)



Way down at the wharf a big steamer was being pulled out into the river. The furnaces were all going for the stokers were down in the hole shoveling coal, down in the hole shoveling coal, shoveling coal, and a lot of black smoke was coming out of the smoke stack. And the engines were working, chug, chug, chug. And all the baggage and freight had been put down in the hold. And all the food had been put on the ice. And all the passengers were on board and the gang-plank had been pulled up. And this is what the big steamer was saying:



And do you know what was making the steamer move? What was pulling her out into the river? It was a little tug boat and the tug boat had hold of one end of a big rope and the other end of the rope was tied fast to the steamer. And the little tug boat was puffing and chucking and working away as hard as he could and calling out:



And do you know why the tug boat and the steamer were talking like this? It is because they were afraid they might bump into some other ship in the fog for they can't see in the fog. You know how white and thick the fog can be.

So the old steamer and the little tug boat both kept tooting until they were way out in the middle of the river.

"Toot, toot, I'm moving." "Tootootootootoot, I'm awful smart."



Now when they were way out in the middle of the river, the little tug boat dropped the rope from the big steamer and turned around. As it puffed away it called out:

"Too-too-too-tootoot, I'm going home Too-too-too-tootoot, I'm awful smart."

Then the big steamer moved slowly down the river towards the great ocean calling through the fog:

"Toot, toot, I'm moving."

Up on the captain's bridge stood the pilot. He is the man who tells just where to make the steamer go in the harbor. He knows where everything is. He knows where the rocks are on the right and he didn't let the steamer bump them. He knows where the sand reef is on the left and he didn't let the steamer get on to that. He knows just where the deep water is and he kept the steamer in it all the time.

Now down on the right so close that it almost bumped, there went a flat boat. This boat was saying:



And that was a coal barge. And then down on the left so close that it almost bumped on the other side they heard another boat saying:



And that was a ferry boat! Then off on the right they heard a great big deep voice. This is what it said:



And that was a war boat! And every time the old steamer answered:

"Toot, toot, I'm moving."

Once off on the left the passengers could hear this:

"Ding——g! dong——g! Hear my song——g! Ding——g! dong——g!"

And what bell do you think that was way out there? A bell buoy rocking on the water! Every time the wave went up it said, "ding" and every time the wave went down it said, "dong."

By this time the old steamer was out of the harbor way out in the open sea. The pilot came down from the captain's deck; he climbed down the rope ladder to the little pilot boat that was tied close to the big steamer. Then the little pilot boat pushed away into the fog calling:



And again the big steamer answered:

"Toot, toot, I'm moving."

Then way off on the left so far away it could barely hear it, it heard:



And that was a sail boat! Then way off on the right so far away it could barely hear it, it heard

"Toot, toot, I'm moving"

and that was another steamer.



And again the big steamer answered:

"Toot, toot, I'm moving."

And so the old steamer went out into the fog calling, calling so that no boat would hit it. And all the other boats that passed it, they went calling, calling too.



HAMMER AND SAW AND PLANE

This story is a slight extension of the children's own experience. It is purposely limited to the tools they themselves handle familiarly.



HAMMER AND SAW AND PLANE

Once there was a carpenter. He had built himself a fine new house. And now it was all done. The walls, the floors and the roof were done. The stairs were done. The windows and doors were done. And the carpenter had moved into his new house.

In his house he had a stove and he had electric lights. He had beds and chairs and bureaus and bookcases. He had everything except a table to eat off of. He still had to stand up when he ate his meals!

So the carpenter thought he would make him a table. But he had no lumber left. So off he went to the lumber mill. At the lumber mill he saw lots and lots of lumber piled in the yard. The carpenter told the man at the lumber mill just how much lumber he wanted and just how long he wanted it and how broad he wanted it and how thick he wanted it.

So the man at the lumber mill put all this lumber,—just what the carpenter had ordered,—on a wagon and sent it out to the carpenter's house.

And then the carpenter began. He said to himself, "First I must make my boards just the right length." So he measured a board just as long as he wanted the top to be; then he put the board on a sawhorse and he took his saw and began to saw:



"Zzzu," went the saw, "Zzzu, zzzu, zzzu." The sawdust flew The saw ripped through Down dropped the board sawed right in two.

And then the carpenter took another board and he measured this just the same length. Then he put this board on the sawhorse and he took the saw and began to saw:

"Zzzu," went the saw, "Zzzu, zzzu, zzzu." The sawdust flew The saw ripped through Down dropped the board sawed right in two.

And then the carpenter took still another board and "Zzzu," went the saw until this board too was sawed right in two. Then he had enough for the top of the table. Then he took the pieces that were going to make the legs and he sawed four of them just the right length. Then he sawed the boards that were going to be the braces until they too were just the right length. And underneath his sawhorse there was a little pile of sawdust.

Then after this the carpenter says to himself, "I must make my boards smooth." So he puts a board in the vise and he begins to plane the board.

The plane he guides The plane it glides It smooths, it slides All over the sides.

And when this board is all smooth, the carpenter takes it out of the vise and puts in another board. Then he takes his plane.

The plane he guides The plane it glides It smooths, it slides All over the sides.

And then the carpenter takes still another board and he guides and slides the plane until this board too is all smooth. And he does this until all the boards that are going to make the top and the legs and the braces are all smooth. And underneath his bench there is a pile of shavings.

And then the carpenter he says to himself, "I must nail my boards together." So he puts the boards that are going to make the top together and he takes a nail and then he swings his hammer:

The hammer it gives a swinging pound. The nail it gives a ringing sound. Bing! bang! bing! bing! And the boards are tight together!

And then the carpenter takes another piece of the top and puts it beside the other two and he takes another nail and then he swings his hammer again.

The hammer it gives a swinging pound. The nail it gives a ringing sound. Bing! bang! bing! bing! And the boards are tight together!

And then the carpenter takes one piece that is going to be a leg and he holds it so it stands right out from the top, and he takes another nail and he nails the leg to the top. Bing! bang! bing! bing! He does this with the other three legs of his table. And then he has four strong legs and the top of his table all nailed together.

Then the carpenter he says to himself, "I'll put some boards across and make it stronger." So he takes some boards sawed just the right length, and he nails them across underneath the top, bing! bang! bing! bing! And then he has a table!

So the carpenter lifts his table out into the middle of his room and he puts a chair beside it. When he sits down he is smiling all over. For the table is just the right size and just the right height and it is strong and good to look at. The carpenter is so glad to have a table to eat off of that he says to himself:

"Now isn't it grand? I won't have to stand While eating my dinner again! For now I am able To sit at the table I made with saw, hammer and plane!"



THE ELEPHANT

This was written with the help of eight-year-old children who were trying to make everything sound "heavy" and "slow."



THE ELEPHANT

The little boy had never before been to the Zoo. He walked up close to the high iron fence. On the other side he saw a huge wrinkled grey lump slowly sway to one side and then slowly sway back to the other. And as it swayed from side to side its great long wrinkled trunk swung slowly too. The little boy followed the trunk with his eye up to the huge head of the great wrinkled grey lump. There were enormous torn worn flapping ears. And there, too, embedded like jewels in a leather wall sparkled two little eyes. These eyes were fastened on the little boy. They seemed to shine in the dull wrinkled skin. Slowly the huge mass began to move. Slowly one heavy padded foot came up and then went down with a soft thud. Then came another soft thud and another and another. Suddenly the monstrous trunk waved, curled, lifted, stretched and stretched, until its soft pink end was thrust through the high iron fence and the little boy could look up into the fleshy yawning red mouth. The little boy drew back from the high iron fence. The end of the trunk wiggled and wriggled around feeling its way up and down a rod of the fence; the great body swayed from one heavy foot to the other; and all the time the bright little eyes were fastened on the boy.

The little boy looked and looked and looked again. He could hardly believe his eyes. "Whew!" he said at last, "so that's an elephant!"



HOW THE ANIMALS MOVE

The classifications and most of the expressions were suggested by a child.



HOW THE ANIMALS MOVE

The lion, he has paws with claws, The horse, he walks on hooves, The worm, he lies right on the ground And wriggles when he moves!

The seal, he moves with swimming feet, The moth, has wings like a sail, The fly he clings; the bird he wings, The monkey swings by his tail!

But boys and girls With feet and hands Can walk and run And swim and stand!



THE SEA-GULL

All the material and most of the expressions are taken from a story by a six-year-old. It was put into rhythm because the children wished "the words to go like the waves."



THE SEA-GULL

Feel the waves go rocking, rocking, Feel them roll and roll and roll. On the top there sits a sea-gull And he's rocking with the waves. Now 'tis evening and he's weary So he's resting on the waves.

When he woke in early morning Like a flash he spied a fish. Quick he flew and quickly diving Snapped the fish and ate him straight. Then he screamed for he was happy. Then he spied another fish Quick he flew and quickly diving Snapped the fish and ate him straight. So he played while shone the sunshine, Catching fish and screaming hoarse Till he was quite out of hunger, And would rest him on the waves. Once he flapped and flapped his great wings, Soaring like an aeroplane. Down below him lay the ocean Like a wrinkled crinkly thing, And giant steamers looked like toy ones Slowly moving on the waves.

Now the moonshine's making silver All the tossing, rocking waves. And the sea-gull looks like silver And his great wings look like silver Pressing close his silver side, And his sharp beak looks like silver Tucked beneath his silver wings. For beneath the silver moonlight See, the sea-gull's gone to sleep. Rocking, rocking on the water, Sleeping, sleeping on the waves, Rocking—sleeping—sleeping—rocking, Fast asleep upon the waves.



THE FARMER TRIES TO SLEEP

It has seemed appropriate to let the children realize the incessant quality of farm work before that of the factory.



THE FARMER TRIES TO SLEEP

The farmer woke up in the morning And sleepy as sleepy was he, He turned in his bed and he grouchily said: "Today I will sleep! Let me be, let me be! Today I will sleep! Let me be!"

Now Puss in the corner she heard She heard what the farmer had said, She ran to the barn and she mewed in alarm; "The farmer will sleep in his bed, in his bed! Today he will sleep in his bed!"

Then Horse in the stable looked up, He whinneyed and shook his old head; "Shall I stand here all day without any hay? Whey-ey-ey! Farmer, come feed me!" he said, so he said, "Whey-ey-ey! Farmer, come feed me!" he said.

But the farmer he tight closed his eyes For sleepy as sleepy was he, He turned in his bed and he angrily said: "Horse, I will sleep! Let me be, let me be! Horse, I will sleep! Let me be!"

Down under the barn in the dirt Pig heard what the Pussy cat mewed. "Can he give me the scraps when he's taking his naps? Wee-ee, Farmer, come give me my food, oh, my food! Wee-ee, Farmer, come give me my food!"

But the farmer he tight closed his ears For sleepy as sleepy was he, He turned in his bed and he sulkily said: "Pig, I will sleep! Let me be, let me be! Pig, I will sleep! Let me be!"

Now Rooster with Chickens and Hen Had been crowing since early that morn, And he crowed when he heard this terrible word: "Cock-a-doo! Farmer, give us our corn, us our corn! Cock-a-doo! Farmer, give us our corn."

But the farmer he pulled up the covers For sleepy as sleepy was he, He turned in his bed and crossly he said: "Cock, I will sleep! Let me be, let me be! Cock, I will sleep! Let me be!"

Cow heard in the pasture and lowed; "My cud no longer I chew, I stand by the gate and I wait and I wait, Oh, Farmer, come milk me! Moo-oo, moo-oo! Oh, Farmer, come milk me, moo-oo!"

But the farmer got under the covers, For sleepy as sleepy was he, He turned in his bed and fiercely he said, "Cow, I will sleep! Let me be, let me be! Cow, I will sleep! Let me be!"

Then Horse he broke from the stable, And Pig he broke from the pen, And Cow jumped the fence though she hadn't much sense, And Cock called Chickens and Hen, and Hen, He called to Chickens and Hen.

Then up to the farm house door All followed the Pussy who knew. Horse whinneyed, Cock crowed, Pig grunted, Cow lowed; "Get up, Farmer! Whey, cock-a-doo, wee-wee-wee, mooo! Whey, cock-a-doo, wee-wee-wee, moooo!"

The farmer down under the covers, He heard and he groaned and he sighed. He wearily rose and he put on his clothes; "They need me, I'm coming, I'm coming," he cried, "They need me, I'm coming," he cried.

"I'll feed Horse, Chickens and Pig, I'll milk old Cow," said he, "And when this is done, my work's just begun, Today I must work, so I see, so I see! Today I must work, so I see!"

So he fed Horse, Chickens and Pig And afterwards milked old Cow. For Farmer must work, he never can shirk! Today he is working, right now, right now! Today he is working right now!



WONDERFUL-COW-THAT-NEVER-WAS!

All the essential points in this story were taken from the story of a four-year-old's about a horse. He enjoyed the nonsense in telling it. Some of the four-year-old groups have appreciated the humor; some five-year-olds have not. Instead they have seemed confused.



WONDERFUL-COW-THAT-NEVER-WAS!

Once there was a wonderful cow,—only she never was! She always had been wonderful, ever since she was a baby calf. Her mother noticed it at once. She was born out in the pasture one sunny morning in June. As soon as she was born, she got up on her long, thin legs. She wobbled quite a little for she wasn't very strong. Then she went over to her mother and put her nose down to her mother's bag and took a drink of milk. This is what all the old cow's babies had always done so the old cow thought nothing of that. But when this wonderful last baby calf had drunk its breakfast, what do you suppose it did? It stood on its head! Now the old cow had never seen anything like this. It was most surprising! It frightened her. She called to it:

"Oh, my baby, baby calf, Your mother kindly begs, Please, please get off your head And stand upon your legs!"

But the baby calf only mooed. And it smiled when it mooed which the old cow thought queer too. None of her other babies had smiled. Then the calf said:

"I'm a wonderful calf, And it makes me laugh Such wonderful things can I do! I stand on my head Whenever I'm fed, And smile whenever I moo, I do, I smile whenever I moo!"

"Dear me!" thought the old mother cow. "I never saw or heard anything like this!"

But this was only the beginning. The baby calf kept on doing strange and wonderful things till at last everyone called her Wonderful-calf-that-never-was! And many people used to come to see her stand on her head whenever she was fed. She did other queer things too! Once she pulled off the ear of another calf! And all she said was: "Poor little calf! You mustn't go in the pasture where there are other calves!" But the little calf who had lost its ear said, "Yes, I must!" But after that Wonderful-calf-that-never-was was kept in the barn for a long time.

At last it was June again and she was a year old. Her horns had begun to grow. The old cow, her mother, had another baby. This new baby calf was just like other calves and not wonderful at all. The old cow was glad for Wonderful-cow-that-never-was worried her very much. For everything about her was queer. One day the calf who had lost the ear,—she was a young cow now,—took hold of the tail of Wonderful-young-cow-that-never-was and pulled it. And what do you suppose happened? The tail broke right off! All the cows were frightened. Whoever heard of a broken tail? But Wonderful-young-cow-that-never-was only mooed and when she mooed she always smiled. Then she said:

"I'm a wonderful cow And I don't know how Such wonderful things I do! If I break my tail, I never fail To glue with a grasshopper's goo, I do, I glue with a grasshopper's goo!"

And so she did. She got a grasshopper to give her some sticky stuff and she smeared it on the two ends of her broken tail and stuck them together. "And now it's as good as new," she said, "and now it's as good as new!"

Her horns grew and grew. She was very proud of them and was always trying to hook some one or gore another cow with them. But one day she went to the edge of the lake when it was very still. It wasn't wavy at all. And as she leaned over to drink, she saw herself in the water. My mercy! but she was shocked!

"My horns are straight!" she screamed, "and I want them curly!" She ran to the old mother cow and had what her mother called the "Krink-kranks." She jumped up and down and bellowed: "My horns are straight and I want them curly!"

The old mother cow was giving her new baby some milk. It made her cross to hear Wonderful-cow-that-never-was having krink-kranks over her horns. "Horns grow the way they grow!" she remarked crossly. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Something!" answered the young cow. "I'm not Wonderful-cow-that-never-was for nothing!" And she stopped having krink-kranks and went off. She stayed away all day and when she did come back, her horns were curled up tight! And she was chewing and smiling and chewing and smiling.

"What have you done now?" gasped the old mother cow. "I never saw horns curled so crumply!"

The young cow smiled and said:

"I'm a wonderful cow And I don't know how Such wonderful things I do! I curl my horn On the cob of a corn And smile whenever I chew, I do, I smile whenever I chew!"

"And here is the corn cob I curled them on," she said, opening her mouth. And sure enough, there was the corn cob!

Now Wonderful-cow-that-never-was got queerer and queerer until the farmer thought her a little too queer. She was very proud of her crumpled horns and tried to hook everyone on them. Once she tore the farmer's coat trying to hook him. And once she did toss him up. She watched him in the air and all she said was "He's up now, but he'll come down some time." And bang! So he did!

Finally one terrible day, they tied her tight and cut off her horns. She was never the same afterwards. She couldn't hook any more. "I don't care about being queer any more," she said to her mother. And she wasn't. She stopped standing on her head. She never pulled off another ear. She never broke her tail again and of course she never curled her horns again. Because she hadn't any! "After all," she said, "it's wonderful enough just to be a cow and have four stomachs and chew cud and give milk and have a baby each Spring!" And that's what she's doing now!

She's a wonderful cow, And anyhow She does a wonderful thing! She wallows in mud, She chews her cud, And has a baby in Spring!



THINGS THAT LOVED THE LAKE

This story was worked out with a five-year-old boy. It is the result of his own summer experiences on a lake.



THINGS THAT LOVED THE LAKE

Once there was a little lake. And many things loved the little lake for its water was clear and smooth and blue when it was sunshiny, and dark and wavy and cross-looking when it was rainy. Now one of the things that loved the little lake was a little fish. He was a slippery shiny little fish all covered with slippery shiny scales. He lived in the shadow of a big rock near a deep, dark, cool pool. And when his wide-open shiny eye saw a little fly fall on the top of the water, he would flip his slippery, shiny tail and wave his slippery, shiny fins and dart out and up and—snap! he'd have the fly inside him! Then like a shiny streak he'd quietly slip back to the cool, deep, dark pool.



Another thing that loved the little lake was a spotted green frog. He too lived near the big rock. He would squat like a lump on the top in the sun, blinking his bright little eyes. Then splash! jump he would go, plump into the water. He'd keep his funny head with the little blinking, bright eyes above water while he'd kick his long, spotted, green legs and he'd swim across to another rock. At first he used to frighten the slippery shiny little fish when he came tumbling into the quiet water. But the spotted green frog never did anything to hurt the little fish so the slippery shiny little fish didn't mind him after all. But at night what do you think the spotted green frog did? He squatted on the rock with his front feet toeing in, like this, and he looked up at the far-away white moon in the far-away dark sky, and then he swelled and he swelled and he swelled his throat, and then he opened his wide, wide mouth and out came a noise. Oh, such a noise! "K-K-K-Krink!! K-K-K-Krank!!" All night the spotted frog swelled his throat and croaked at the moon.

Now another thing that loved the little lake was a beautiful wild duck. The wild duck had beautiful green and brown feathers and on his head he had a little green top-knot. Every year he flew north from the warm south where he had been spending the winter. High up in the air he flew, leading many other beautiful wild ducks. He flew with his head stretched out and his feet tucked up close to his body and his strong wings flapping, flapping, flapping like great fans. And as he flew way up in the air his keen eye would see the little lake glistening down below. "Quonk-quonk!" he would call. And the other wild ducks would answer, "Quonk-quonk-quonk!" And then they would swoop, right down to the little lake and they'd light right on the water. There they would sit, rocking on the little waves or swimming about with their red webbed feet. Oh, the wild ducks loved the little lake very much!

But not the slippery shiny fish, not the spotted green frog, not the beautiful wild duck loves the lake as much as some one else does. I don't believe any one else loves the little lake as much as does the little summer boy! Sometimes the little summer boy goes rowing on top of the lake. He leans way forward and stretches his oars way back, then he puts them into the water and pulls as hard as ever he can—splash—splash—splash—splash——! And the boat glides and slides right over the water! Sometimes,—and this he loves better still,—he stands on the rock in his red bathing suit. Then plump! he jumps right into the water! Sometimes he goes feetwards and sometimes he goes headwards and sometimes he turns a somersault in the air before he touches the water. And then away he goes moving his arms and kicking his legs almost like the spotted green frog. But the little fish when he hears this great thing come splashing into the quiet water, he flips his slippery shiny tail and waves his slippery shiny fins and darts way out into the deep water where the little boy with the red bathing suit can't follow him. For to the little fish this little summer boy seems very queer, and very, very noisy, and very, very, VERY enormous! And the spotted green frog too gets out of the way when the little boy comes racketing into the water. He hops, hops under the rocks into a safe little cave and from there he watches and blinks his bright little eyes. But he never croaks then! The little summer boy knows the green frog is there and sometimes he peeks at him and thinks "I wish I could make my back legs go like yours!" For he's often seen the spotted green frog swim from rock to rock.

But the beautiful wild duck, he never saw the little summer boy. For long before the boy came to the little lake, the duck had left the lake far behind. Early one morning in Spring he flapped his strong wings and tucked his wet webbed feet up close to his body and stretched out his long neck and calling "Quonk-quonk!" he flapped away to the north. And all the other beautiful wild ducks followed calling, "Quonk-quonk-quonk!" So the little summer boy never knew the wild duck!

It is too bad that the fish and the frog are scared away when the summer boy goes in bathing. But it is only for a little while anyway. For the little summer boy's mother doesn't let him play in the lake all day as does the mother of the slippery shiny fish and the mother of the spotted green frog. She has called him now, and he calls back, "One more time!" for no one loves the little lake as much as the little boy in the red bathing suit. He has climbed up on the rock. The water is running down him, for he is as wet as a baby seal. Now he puts out his hands, like this, and he calls out, "This time I'm going to take a headwards dive!"

In the lake they play, The spotted green frog And the slippery shiny fish. They frisk and they whisk, And they dip and they flip. And the water it glimmers, It ripples and twinkles When the frog and the fishes play.

In the lake they play, The beautiful duck And the rackety summer boy. When the wild duck swims The water it skims. But the boy with a shout He plumps in, he jumps out. And the little lake shakes with his play.



HOW THE SINGING WATER GOT TO THE TUB

In this story I have tried to make the refrains carry the essential points in the content. I have tried, however, to subordinate the information to the pattern. This story came in response to direct questions during baths.



HOW THE SINGING WATER GOT TO THE TUB

Once there was a little singing stream of water. It sang whatever it did. And it did many things from the time it bubbled up in the far-away hills to the time it splashed into the dirty little boy's tub. It began as a little spring of water. Then the water was as cool as cool could be for it came up from the deep cool earth all hidden away from the sun. It came up into a little hollow scooped out of the earth and in the hollow were little pebbles. Right up through the pebbles, bubbling and gurgling it came. And what do you suppose the water did when the little hollow was all full? It did just what water always does, it tried to find a way to run down hill! One side of the little hollow was lower than the others and here the water spilled over and trickled down. And this is the song the water sang then:

"I bubble up so cool Into the pebbly pool. Over the edge I spill And gallop down the hill!"

So the water became a little stream and began its long journey to the little boy's tub. And always it wanted to run down—always down, and as it ran, it tinkled this song:

"I sing, I run, In the shade, in the sun, It's always fun To sing and to run."

Sometimes it pushed under twigs and leaves; sometimes it made a big noise tumbling over the roots of trees; sometimes it flowed all quiet and slow through long grasses in a meadow. Once it came to the edge of a pretty big rock and over it went, splashing and crashing and dashing and making a fine, fine spray.

It sang to the little birds that took their baths in the spray. And the little birds ruffled their feathers to get dry and sang back to the little brook. "Ching-a-ree!" they sang. It sang to the bunny rabbit who got his whiskers all wet when he took a drink. It sang to the mother deer who always came to the same place and licked up some water with her tongue. To all of these and many more little wild wood things the little brook rippled its song:

"I sing, I run, In the shade, in the sun, It's always fun To sing and to run."

But to the fish in the big dark pool under the rocks it sang so softly, so quietly, that only the fishes heard.

Now all the time that the little brook kept running down hill, it kept getting bigger. For every once in a while it would be joined by another little brook coming from another hillside spring. And, of course, the two of them were twice as large as each had been alone. This kept happening until the stream was a small river,—so big and deep that the horses couldn't ford it any more. Then people built bridges over it, and this made the small river feel proud. Little boats sailed in it too,—canoes and sail boats and row boats. Sometimes they held a lot of little boys without any clothes on who jumped into the water and splashed and laughed and splashed and laughed.

At last the river was strong enough to carry great gliding boats, with deep deep voices. "Toot," said the boats, "tootoot-tooooooooot!"

And now the song of the river was low and slow as it answered the song of the boats:

"I grow and I flow As I carry the boats, As I carry the boats of men."

After the little river had been running down hill for ever so long, it came to a place where the banks went up very high and steep on each side of it. Here something strange happened. The little river was stopped by an enormous wall. The wall was made of stone and cement and it stretched right across the river from one bank to the other. The little river couldn't get through the wall, so it just filled up behind it. It filled and filled until it found that it had spread out into a real little lake. Only the people who walked around it called it a reservoir!

Now in the wall was just one opening down near the bottom. And what do you suppose that led to? A pipe! But the pipe was so big that an elephant could have walked down it swinging his trunk! Only, of course, there wasn't any elephant there.

Now the little river didn't like to have his race down hill stopped. So he began muttering to himself:

"What shall I do, oh, what shall I do? Here's a big dam and I can't get through! Behind the dam I fill and fill But I want to go running and running down hill! If the pipe at the bottom will let me through I'll run through the pipe! That's what I'll do!"

So he rushed into the pipe as fast as he could for there he found he could run down hill again! He ran and he ran for miles and miles. Above him he knew there were green fields and trees and cows and horses. These were the things he had sung to before he rushed into the pipe. Then after a long time he knew he was under something different. He could feel thousands of feet scurrying this way and that; he could feel thousands of horses pulling carriages and wagons and trucks; he could feel cars, subways, engines;—he could feel so many things crossing him that he wondered they didn't all bump each other. Then he knew he was under the Big City. And this is the song he shouted then:

"Way under the street, street, street, I feel the feet, feet, feet. I feel their beat, beat, beat, Above on the street, street, street."

And then again something queer happened. Every once in a while a pipe would go off from the big pipe. Now one of these pipes turned into a certain street and then a still smaller pipe turned off into a certain house and a still smaller pipe went right up between the walls of the house. And in this house there lived the dirty little boy.



The water flowed into the street pipe and then it flowed into the house pipe and then,—what do you think?—it went right up that pipe between the walls of the house! For you see even the top of that dirty little boy's house isn't nearly as high as the reservoir on the hill where the water started and the water can run up just as high as it has run down.

In the bath-room was the dirty little boy. His face was dirty, his hands were dirty, his feet were dirty and his knees—oh! his knees were very, very dirty. This very dirty little boy went over to the faucet and slowly turned it. Out came the water splashing, and crashing and dashing.

"My! but I need a bath tonight," said the dirty little boy as he heard the water splashing in the tub. The water was still the singing water that had sung all the way from the far-away hills. It had sung a bubbling song when it gurgled up as a spring; it had sung a tinkling song as it rippled down hill as a brook; it had crooned a flowing song when it bore the talking boats; it had muttered and throbbed and sung to itself as it ran through the big, big pipe. Now as it splashed into the dirty little boy's tub it laughed and sang this last song:

"I run from the hill,—down, down, down, Under the streets of the town, town, town, Then in the pipe, up, up, up, I tumble right into your tub, tub, tub."

And the dirty little boy laughed and jumped into the Singing Water!



THE CHILDREN'S NEW DRESSES

An old pattern with new content. The steps in the process were originally dug out by a child of six through his own questions.



THE CHILDREN'S NEW DRESSES

Once there was a small town. In the small town were many houses and in the houses were many people. In one of these houses there lived a mother with a great many children. One night after the children were all in bed and the mother was sitting by the fire, a brick fell down the chimney. Then another came bumping and rattling down. Now outside there was a great wind blowing. It whistled down the chimney and up flamed the fire. The sparks flew into the hole where the bricks had fallen out. The first thing the mother knew the house was all on fire. Still the great wind roared. The house next door caught fire, then the next, then the next, then the next, until half the little town was burning. The mother with the many children and many other frightened people ran to the part of the town behind the great wind. And there they stayed until the wind died down and they could put the fire out.