I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes, They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall!

By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old moustache as I am Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon, In the round tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever, Yes, for ever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And molder in dust away!

1. How would we plan to dramatize this poem? In answering this question, we must consider how many persons are needed, what arrangement of rooms and doors, etc., will be fitting; are the last three stanzas to be spoken? etc.

2. It seems that here is a family in which an hour is set aside for play. What kind of home must that be?

3. Was this the custom each day? Or did it happen only once?

4. Does the father seem to enjoy it? Or was it rather an unpleasant time for him?

5. Is there any proof that these were especially attractive children?

("Voices soft and sweet.")

6. Which is the best part of the last three stanzas, in which he tells how much he loves them? (Meaning of "for ever and a day.")

7. Do you know any other families that have a time set apart each day for playing together? Why are there not more?

8. Does such an arrangement depend on the parents wholly? Or could the children help much to bring it about? How?

9. Have you heard the story about the Bishop of Bingen in his Mouse- Tower on the Rhine River?

10. Meaning of strange words may be explained in various ways, perhaps some of them scarcely explained at all.

These are some of the questions that could well be considered in this poem. It is true that this selection, like most adult literature, is capable of being enjoyed without much addition. But it is not mere enjoyment that is wanted. We are discussing what study is necessary in order to get the full profit. In the case of Hawthorne's _Wonder-Book_ and _Tanglewood Tales_, numerous questions and suggestions need likewise to be interjected. One of the best books for five- to eight- year-old children on the life of Christ bears the t.i.tle _Jesus the Carpenter of Nazareth_. It is an ill.u.s.trated volume of five hundred pages, which makes it clear that the original Bible text has been greatly supplemented. Yet it is a pity to read even this book without frequent pausing for additional detail.

Thus literature, including even that for young children, fails to show on the surface all that the reader is expected to see. Much of it states only a very small part of this. A piece of literature resembles a painting in this respect. Corot's well-known painting, "Dance of the Wood Nymphs," presents only a few objects, including a landscape with some trees and some dancing women. Yet people love to sit and look at it, perhaps to examine its detail and enjoy its author's skill, but also to recall countless memories of the past, of beautiful woods and pastures, of happy parties, of joys, hopes, and resolves, and possibly, too, to renew resolves for the future. The very simple scene is thus a source of inspiration, a stimulus to think or study. A poem accomplishes the same thing.

_3. As stated by Ruskin_

A warning of the amount of hard work that the student of literature must expect is given by Ruskin in the following forcible words: "And be sure, also, if the author is worth anything, that you will not get at his meaning all at once,--nay, that at his whole meaning you will not for a long time arrive in any wise. Not that he does not say what he means, and in strong words, too; but he cannot say it all, and what is more strange, will not, but in a hidden way, and in parables, in order that he may be sure you want it. I cannot quite see the reason of this, nor a.n.a.lyze the cruel reticence in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of wise men which makes them always hide their deeper thought.

"They do not give it you by way of help, but of reward, and will make themselves sure that you deserve it, before they allow you to reach it.

"But it is the same with the physical type of wisdom, gold. There seems, to you and me, no reason why the electric forces of the earth should not carry whatever there is of gold within it at once to the mountain tops, so that kings and people might know that all the gold they could get was there, and without any trouble of digging, or anxiety, or chance, or waste of time, cut it away, and coin as much as they needed. But Nature does not manage it so. She puts it in little fissures in the earth, n.o.body knows where. You may dig long and find none; you must dig painfully to find any.

"And it is just the same with men's best wisdom. When you come to a good book, you must ask yourself, 'Am I inclined to work as an Australian miner would? Are my pickaxes and shovels in good order, and am I in good trim myself, my sleeves well up to the elbow, and my breath good, and my temper?' And keeping the figure a little longer...

the metal you are in search of being the author's mind or meaning, his words are as the rock which you have to crush and smelt in order to get at it. And your pickaxes are your own care, wit, and learning; your smelting furnace is your own thoughtful soul. Do not hope to get at any good author's meaning without those tools, and that fire; often you will need sharpest, finest chiseling and patientest fussing before you can gather one grain of the metal."[Footnote: _Sesame and Lilies_]

_4. As suggested by an examination of text-books_

When we turn from literature to the text-books used in schools and colleges, we find the need of supplementing greatly increased. Writers of literature are at liberty to choose any topic they please, and to treat it as fully as they will. But writers of text-books are free in neither of these respects. Their subjects are determined for them; it is the history, for example, of a given period, the grammar of the English language, the geography of the earth. And these must be presented briefly enough to be covered by cla.s.ses within a prescribed time. For these reasons text-books contain far less detail than literature, and in that sense are much more condensed. They are only the outlines of subjects, as their t.i.tles often directly acknowledge.

Green's _History of England_, for instance, which has been extensively used as a college text, barely touches many topics that are treated at great length elsewhere. It is natural, therefore, that in our more advanced schools the word text in connection with such books is used in much the same sense as in connection with the Bible; a text is that which merely introduces topics by giving the bare outline of facts, or very condensed statements; it must be supplemented extensively, if the facts or thoughts are to be appreciated.

How about the texts used in the elementary school? Those used in the highest two grades need, perhaps, somewhat more supplementing than those in the high school. But in the middle grades this need is still greater. In the more prominent studies calling for text-books, such as history, geography, and English language or grammar, nearly the same topics are treated as in the higher grades, and in substantially the same manner. But since the younger children are not expected to take as long lessons,--and perhaps, too, because they cannot carry as large books,--their texts are made briefer. This is mainly accomplished by leaving out much of the detail that is necessary to make the facts clear and interesting. Consequently, supplementing is an especially important factor of study in these grades. In general, the briefer the text, the more "filling in" is needed.

As an ill.u.s.tration, take the following extract from the first page of McMaster's _Child's History of the United States_, often used with ten-year-old pupils.

Four hundred and fifty years ago the people of western Europe were getting silks, perfumes, shawls, ivory, spices, and jewels from southeastern Asia, then called the Indies. But the Turks were conquering the countries across which these goods were carried, and it seemed so likely that the trade would be stopped, that the merchants began to ask if somebody could not find a new way to the Indies.

The king of Portugal thought he could, and began sending his sailors in search of a way around Africa, which extended southward, n.o.body knew how far. Year after year his ships sailed down the west coast, the last captain going further south than the one before him, till one of them at last reached the southern end of the continent and entered the Indian Ocean.

Observe a few of the thoughts "between the lines" that need to be considered:--

1. Six things are here mentioned as brought from the East Indies. It seems odd that some of these should receive mention as among the most important imports. Which are they? Could any of them have been more important then than now? Why?

2. What were the routes of travel, by land, to the Indies? (Map.)

3. Where did the Turks live; and what reasons had they for preventing this trade?

4. Why could not the first Portuguese captain sail directly to the southern end of Africa?

Again, take the topic _desert_ in geography. The texts usually define a desert as a sandy waste, often a plain, that receives too little rain to support much vegetable or animal life. Pictures are given showing the character of the plants, and perhaps the appearance of such a region. Beyond that little is usually attempted. In the larger books the danger from sand storms and some other things are included. Such treatment needs to be supplemented by numerous questions, such as the following:--

1. What animals that are common here are seldom found there, or not at all? (Horses, cows, etc., also birds, flies, bugs, etc.)

2. What plants that are common here are not found there? (Trees, flowers, weeds, etc.)

3. Is the weather particularly enjoyable there, or not? Is it desirable to have sunshine all the time?

4. What about noises of various kinds? (Silence so oppressive to some people that it becomes intolerable.)

5. What would be some of the pleasures of a walk in the desert?

(Coloring, change of seasons, trees along streams, appearance of any gra.s.s.)

6. What about the effect of strong winds on the sand?

7. Imagining that some one has just crossed a desert, what dangers do you think he has encountered, and how may he have escaped from them?

_The extent to which the supplementing should be carried_

From the preceding discussion it is clear not only that no important topic is ever completely presented, but also that there is scarcely any limit to the extent to which it may be supplemented. Men get new thoughts from the same Bible texts year after year, and even century after century. How far, then, should the supplementing be carried?

The maximum limit cannot be fixed, and there is no need of attempting it. But there is great need of knowing and keeping in mind the minimum limit; for in the pressure to hurry forward there is grave danger that even this limit will not be reached.