see the things the words represent and enjoy what people say to us and what books tell us.

At first you will not see the need of such a careful study of nature or appreciate the power it will give you in reading, speaking or talking, but persevere, and you will improve in both voice and reading. Finally, there will come a power to enjoy the world that will stay with you forever.

Some may wish to understand more definitely why we should train the eyes and ears and all the senses. The psychological reason is that our minds in receiving impressions in reading have only words to suggest to us objects. Our minds, however, as we read these words act in correspondence with our senses. When you read any of the passages of the preceding pages you have found that your minds awaken and make pictures. Some minds see more readily, others hear; some minds seem to touch things and feel muscular resistance. A normal mind, however, does all these things. The chief reason for the careful observation of nature is to store up in the mind material for such conceptions. The vigorous use of our senses by our minds trains us to create ideas or images when no object is before us. Not only do we remember the things and again see, hear, feel and touch them, but from such exercise another faculty of the mind awakens a creative power called imagination so that we can conceive new things, things we have never seen or heard.

By varying the actions of our minds we can stimulate this inner thinking energy so that it can act vigorously when we read or speak or write. We not only store up information by studying nature but we quicken our minds into more active life.

fe.

VI. LIVING OUR IDEAS

Far in the woods, the fresh green woods in May,

Once sang a bird; but all it found to say

Was "Keep it, keep it!" all the merry day.

The bird? I never saw it, no not I.

I followed, but it flitted far on high;

And "Keep it, keep it!" Echo caught the cry.

I was so glad as through the woods I went

And now I think that "Keep it, keep it!" meant

Child, keep each happy thought that heaven has sent."

"Far in the Woods in May."

Edith M. Thomas

We are all born with an instinct which makes us feel the life of every little creature around us. This causes us to see things, not as dead or meaningless, but as alive. This insight into the heart of things deepens our lives.

By their actions and voices we judge the motives of people, their characters, and we do not merely stop at this point. Sympathy is awakened and we enjoy trying to think as they think, to act as they act, and to speak as they speak.

Indeed, we go even further. We give words to birds and animals; we represent the way they look and act and weave them into our play and make them sharers of our own life while we also share theirs. This tendency to play that we are crows and foxes is the source of our fables and many of our loveliest stories.

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window sill,

Cocked his shining eye and said:

"Be ashamed, you sleepy-head!"

Robert Louis Stevenson

feel it

Without this instinct to feel the life of other creatures, we should never forget ourselves. The little boy would never cross a stick and think he is on a horse rear and gallop away; the little girl would not cherish her doll and talk to it as if it were a human being, when it is only a rag rolled up. Without this instinct we should never be able to read history and live the lives of people who have done great deeds in the world. It is important, therefore, that we should bring into life and work this play instinct, this spirit of sympathy.

CHERRIES

Under the tree the farmer said,

Smiling and shaking his wise old head:
"Cherries are ripe! but then, you know,

There's the grass to be cut and the corn to hoe;

We can gather the cherries any day,

But when the sun shines we must make our hay;
To-night, when the work has all been done,
We'll muster the boys, for fruit and fun."

Up on the tree a robin said,

Laughing and shaking his saucy head:
"Cherries are ripe! and so to-day

We'll gather them while you make the hay;
For we are the boys with no corn to hoe,
No cows to milk, and no grass to mow."
At night the farmer said: "Here's a trick!
These roguish robins have had their pick."

Frederic Edward Weatherley

You can read this poem about "Cherries" in a cold, intellectual way, simply telling the facts, or, on the other hand, you can see the farmer under the tree, smile with him as he shakes "his wise old head," think as he thought, feel as he felt, talk as he talked about the cherries, the grass, and the corn; and you can see the robin also up in the branches, "laughing and shaking his saucy head," and act out his feelings. Then observe how different is your voice in each case. The farmer, too, does not speak in the same way at night.

This instinct about which we have been talking is known as the dramatic instinct. It is alive in all of us in early life, but it is apt to be smothered or crushed out. Upon its spontaneous and free action depends a great deal of the true work in reading which reveals to us the motive and spirit that dominates other people. It enables us to penetrate the character of others and helps us to understand ourselves. It enables us to enjoy the life we live and to enter into sympathy with the world about us.)

It enables us also to realize the peculiarities of animals and their likeness to human beings. In the fable we make animals talk as human beings talk. We have the instinct to see either the human motive and character which the animal stands for or the spirit of the animal.

Sometimes we make one animal talk in a kind of monologue fable. Observe how this caterpillar is made to tell of three phases in his life.

“I creep on the ground, and the children say,

· You ugly old thing,' and push me away.

"I lie in my bed, and the children say,
'The fellow is dead; we 'll throw him away.'

"At last I awake, and the children try
To make me stay as I rise and fly."

Author not known

Read, with your instinct awake, the story of "The Two Frogs." See everything as they saw it, talk as they talked to each other. Show how each felt when under the delusion that he had seen his goal.

THE TWO FROGS

The cities of Ozaka and Kioto are forty miles apart. The one is the city of canals and bridges: the other is the sacred city of the Mikado's empire, girdled with green hills and a ninefold circle of flowers.

Long ago, there lived two frogs, one in a well in Kioto, the other in a lotus-pond at Ozaka.

Now it is a proverb in Japan, that " the frog in the well knows not the great ocean; " and the Kioto frog had so often heard this sneer that he resolved to go abroad and see the world, and especially the "great ocean."

"I'll see for myself," said Mr. Frog, as he packed his wallet and wiped his spectacles, "what this great ocean is that they talk about. I don't believe it is half so deep as my well, where I can see the stars even in daylight.”

Mr. Frog informed his family of his intentions. Mrs. Frog wept a great deal; but drying her eyes with her paper handkerchief, she tied up a little lacquered box full of boiled rice and snails, wrapped a silk napkin around it, and put it with his extra clothes in a bundle. He slung this on his back, seized his staff, and was ready to go.

"Good-bye," cried he, as, with a tear in his eye, he walked

away.

Being now on dry land, out of his well, he noticed that the other animals did not leap, but walked; and, not wishing to be laughed at, he likewise began walking upright on his hind-legs. Now it happened that about this time the frog of Ozaka had become dissatisfied with his life on the edges of the lotus-ditch. 66 Alas, alas! this is a dull life," said he. "If out of the mud can come the lovely lotus, why should n't a frog become a man? If my son should travel abroad, and see the world,

for instance,

go to Kioto,

why should n't he become as wise as anybody?

I shall try it. I'll send my son on a journey to Kioto."
Now you must know that the old frog from Kioto and the

young frog from Ozaka started each from his home at the same time. Nothing of importance occurred to either of them until they met on a hill half way between the two cities. Both were footsore, and websore, and very tired, on account of their unfroglike manner of walking.

"Good-morning," said the young frog to the old frog, falling on all-fours and bowing his head to the ground three times. "Good day," replied the Kioto frog.

"It is rather fine weather to-day," said the youngster. "Yes, it is; very fine," replied the old fellow.

"I am Lord Bullfrog, of the Lotus-Ditch of Ozaka."

"Your lordship must be weary with your journey. I am Sir Frog of the Well from Kioto. I started out to see the great ocean at Ozaka; but I am so dreadfully tired that I believe I'll give up my plan, and content myself with a look from this hill.”

The young frog was tired enough to agree, and said: “ Suppose we both save ourselves the trouble of the journey. This hill is half way between the two cities; and, while I see Kioto, you can get a good view of Ozaka and the sea."

Then both reared themselves on their hind-legs, and, stretching up on their toes, propped each other up, rolled their goggle eyes, and looked steadily, as they supposed, on the places which they wished to see.

As every one knows, a frog's eyes are in front when he is down, and at his back when he stands up. Long and steadily they gazed, until at last, their toes being tired, they came down again on all-fours.

"I declare!" said the old frog, “ Ozaka looks just like Kioto; and, as for the great ocean, I don't see any. I don't believe there is any great ocean."

"For my part," said the youngster, "I am satisfied that it's all folly to go farther; for Kioto is as like Ozaka as one grain of rice is like another."

-

Thereupon they congratulated themselves on the lucky plan by which they had escaped so much weariness and danger, and after exchanging many compliments took leave of each other. Dropping again into a frog's hop, they leaped back in half the time, the one to his well and the other to his ditch. There each told the story of how both cities looked exactly alike. And to this day the frog in the well of Kioto knows nothing about the great ocean, and does not believe in it, and the frog in the ditch of Ozaka thinks all the world is exactly like his native city.