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A MOTHER’S LIST OF BOOKS FOR CHILDREN (p. 21)

TWO YEARS OF AGE

O Babees yonge, My Book only is made for youre lernynge.

THE BABEES BOOK. Circa 1475.

PICTURE-BOOKS

The baby’s first book will naturally be a picture-book, for pictures appeal to him early, and with great force.... If we understood children better, we should realize this vitality which pictures have for them, and should be more careful to give them the best.

W.T. FIELD.

THE CHILDREN’S FARM.

Dutton. 1.25

These colored pictures of the different farm animals, mounted on boards, will please the littlest ones.

CRANE, WALTER (Illustrator).

Mother Hubbard. Lane. .25

As children are favorably influenced by good pictures, it is a pity to give them any but the best, among which Walter Crane’s certainly stand. Attention is drawn to the designs of the cover-pages of the (p. 22) books of this series, which are quite as attractive as the text illustrations.

The drawings for Mother Hubbard are among Mr. Crane’s most successful efforts. Tiny folk will be entranced with the pictures of this marvellous white doggie.

“This wonderful Dog Was Dame Hubbard’s delight, He could sing, he could dance, He could read, he could write.” CRANE, WALTER (Illustrator).

This Little Pig.

Lane. .25

Let us travel to Piggy-land for a few moments, with the baby, and it will probably be the first of many trips, with these gay pictures to guide us.

THREE YEARS OF AGE (p. 23) A dreary place would be this earth, Were there no little people in it;

Life’s song, indeed, would lose its charm, Were there no babies to begin it.

WHITTIER.

PICTURE-BOOKS

What an unprejudiced and wholly spontaneous acclaim awaits the artist who gives his best to the little ones! They do not place his work in portfolios or locked glass cases; they thumb it to death, surely the happiest of all fates for any printed book.

GLEESON WHITE.

BANNERMAN, HELEN.

The Story of Little Black Sambo.

Stokes. .50

Written and illustrated by an Englishwoman in India for her two small daughters, Little Black Sambo, with its absurd story, and funny crude pictures in color, will delight young children of all lands.

CALDECOTT, RANDOLPH (Illustrator).

The Farmer’s Boy.

Warne. .25

These delicately colored prints, with their atmosphere of English country life, well accord with the old cumulative verses which they accompany. Mr. Caldecott has charmingly illustrated this and the (p. 24) following picture-books. Some of the illustrations in each book are in color and some in black and white.

The Caldecott toy-books, They fix for all time The favorite heroes Of nursery rhyme. The Caldecott toy-books— We never shall find A gracefuller pencil, A merrier mind!

L.

CALDECOTT, RANDOLPH (Illustrator).

A Frog He Would a-Wooing Go.

Warne. .25

The drawings portray Mr. Frog, Mr. Rat, and the tragic ending to the festivities at Mousey’s Hall.

Caldecott was a fine literary artist, who was able to express himself with rare facility in pictures in place of words, so that his comments upon a simple text reveal endless subtleties of thought.... You have but to turn to any of his toy-books to see that at times each word, almost each syllable, inspired its own picture.... He studied his subject as no one else ever studied it.... Then he portrayed it simply and with inimitable vigor, with a fine economy of line and colour; when colour is added, it is mainly as a gay convention, and not closely imitative of nature.

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HOLY-CROSS DAY

ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME

[” Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, and now must my lord preach his first sermon to the Jews: as it was of old cared for in the merciful bowels of the Church, that, so to speak, a crumb at least from her conspicuous table here in Rome should be, though but once yearly, cast to the famishing dogs, under-trampled and bespitten-upon beneath the feet of the guests. And a moving sight in truth, this, of so many of the besotted blind restif and ready-to-perish Hebrews! now maternally brought-nay (for He saith, ‘Compel them to come in’) haled, as it were, by the head and hair, and against their obstinate hearts, to partake of the heavenly grace. What awakening, what striving with tears, what working of a yeasty conscience! Nor was my lord wanting to himself on so apt an occasion; witness the abundance of conversions which did incontinently reward him: though not to my lord be altogether the glory”-Diary by the Bishop’s Secretary, 1600.]

What the Jews really said, on thus being driven to church, was rather to this effect:-

I

Fee, faw, fum! bubble and squeak!

Blessedest Thursday’s the fat of the week.

Rumble and tumble, sleek and rough,

Stinking and savoury, smug and gruff,

Take the church-road, for the bell’s due chime Gives us the summons—‘tis sermon-time!

II

Boh, here’s Barnabas! Job, that’s you?

Up stumps Solomon—bustling too?

Shame, man! greedy beyond your years To handsel the bishop’s shaving-shears?

Fair play’s a jewel! Leave friends in the lurch? 10 Stand on a line ere you start for the church!

III

Higgledy piggledy, packed we lie,

Rats in a hamper, swine in a stye,

Wasps in a bottle, frogs in a sieve,

Worms in a carcase, fleas in a sleeve.

Hist! square shoulders, settle your thumbs And buzz for the bishop—here he comes.

IV

Bow, wow, wow—a bone for the dog!

I liken his Grace to an acorned hog. 20

What, a boy at his side, with the bloom of a lass,

To help and handle my lord’s hour-glass!

Didst ever behold so lithe a chine?

His cheek hath laps like a fresh-singed swine.

V

Aaron’s asleep—shove hip to haunch,

Or somebody deal him a dig in the paunch!

Look at the purse with the tassel and knob And the gown with the angel and thingumbob!

What’s he at, quotha? reading his text!

Now you’ve his curtsey—and what comes next? 30

VI

See to our converts—you doomed black dozen—

No stealing away—nor cog nor cozen!

You five, that were thieves, deserve it fairly;

You seven, that were beggars, will live less sparely;

You took your turn and dipped in the hat,

Got fortune—and fortune gets you; mind that!

VII

Give your first groan—compunction’s at work And soft! from a Jew you mount to a Turk.

Lo, Micah,--the selfsame beard on chin

He was four times already converted in! 40 Here’s a knife, clip quick—it’s a sign of grace—

Or he ruins us all with his hanging-face.

VIII

Whom now is the bishop a-leering at?

I know a point where his text falls pat.

I’ll tell him to-morrow, a word just now Went to my heart and made me vow I meddle no more with the worst of trades—

Let somebody else pay his serenades.

IX

Groan all together now, whee-hee-hee!

It’s a-work, it’s a-work, ah, woe is me! 50 It began, when a herd of us,

picked and placed, Were spurred through the Corso, stripped to the waist;

Jew brutes, with sweat and blood well spent To usher in worthily Christian Lent.

X

It grew, when the hangman entered our bounds, Yelled, pricked us out to his church like hounds:

It got to a pitch, when the hand indeed Which gutted my purse would throttle my creed:

And it overflows when, to even the odd,

Men I helped to their sins help me to their God. 60

XI

But now, while the scapegoats leave our flock,

And the rest sit silent and count the clock,

Since forced to muse the appointed time On these precious facts and truths sublime,

Let us fitly employ it, under our breath,

In saying Ben Ezra’s Song of Death.

XII

For Rabbi Ben Ezra, the night he died,

Called sons and sons’ sons to his side,

And spoke, “This world has been harsh and strange;

Something is wrong: there needeth change. 70 But what, or where? at the last or first?

In one point only we sinned, at worst.

XIII

“The Lord will have mercy on Jacob yet,

And again in his border see Israel set.

When Judah beholds Jerusalem,

The stranger-seed shall be joined to them:

To Jacob’s House shall the Gentiles cleave.

So the Prophet saith and his sons believe.

XIV

“Ay, the children of the chosen race Shall carry and bring them to their place: 80

In the land of the Lord shall lead the same Bondsmen and handmaids. Who shall blame,

When the slaves enslave, the oppressed ones o’er The oppressor triumph for evermore?

XV

“God spoke, and gave us the word to keep,

Bade never fold the hands nor sleep ‘Mid a faithless world, at watch and ward,

Till Christ at the end relieve our guard.

By His servant Moses the watch was set:

Though near upon cock-crow, we keep it yet. 90

XVI

“Thou! if thou wast He, who at mid-watch came,

By the starlight, naming a dubious name!

And if, too heavy with sleep—too rash With fear—O Thou, if that martyr-gash Fell on Thee coming to take thine own,

And we gave the Cross, when we owed the Throne—

XVII

“Thou art the Judge. We are bruised thus.

But, the Judgment over, join sides with us!

Thine too is the cause! and not more thine

Than ours, is the work of these dogs and swine, 100 Whose life laughs through and spits at their creed!

Who maintain Thee in word, and defy Thee in deed!

XVIII

“We withstood Christ then? Be mindful how At least we withstand Barabbas now!

Was our outrage sore? But the worst we spared,

To have called these—Christians, had we dared!

Let defiance to them pay mistrust of Thee,

And Rome make amends for Calvary!

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CHAPTER VIII MORE WONDERFUL WORKS AND WORDS

And now Jesus went right away from the Sea of Galilee again to Caesarea Philippi. That place was called Caesarea after Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome, and Philippi after Herod Philip. When they were going to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus talked quietly to His disciples, and said, ‘Whom do you say that I am?’ Peter almost always spoke first, before the others had time to say anything, and he said quickly, ‘THOU ART THE CHRIST, THE SON OF THE LIVING GOD.’ Jesus was very much pleased with that answer.

Then Jesus called the people who stood near, and His disciples too, and He told them that if they followed Him, they too might have to die for His sake. But He told them that they must not mind that, because heaven is better than this world. And He told them that if they were ashamed of Him, He should be ashamed of them before His Father and the holy angels. Dear children, I hope, when you go to school, or are with your little friends, that you will never be ashamed of Jesus.

About a week after that talk with His disciples, Jesus took Peter, and James, and John into a high hill alone to pray. There is a splendid high mountain near Caesarea Philippi, called Hermon. All at once, as Jesus was praying, the disciples saw that His face shown like the sun, and His clothes were white and shining like the light. And as the disciples looked, they saw two men talking with Jesus, called Moses and Elijah, two holy men who went to heaven long, long ago. We do not know how long they talked. Peter, and James, and John were men, so they could not look very long at those heavenly visitors; soon their eyes closed, and they fell fast asleep. When they woke up, Moses and Elijah were still there, and when the disciples saw Jesus again, looking so bright and beautiful, they were very much afraid.

When they came down from the mountain, they saw a crowd down below. Jesus had left nine of His disciples behind when He went up Mount Hermon; and now He saw a great number of persons all round them, and heard some Jews worrying them with questions. When Jesus came near enough to speak, He asked what was the matter. And a man came running to Him out of the crowd, and begged Him to look at his boy—his only child. And he said to Jesus, ‘If Thou canst do anything, take pity on me, and help me.’ And Jesus made the boy well from that very hour. The disciples had not had faith enough themselves to be able to do that sick boy any good.

Every year the Jews had to pay half a shekel of money for the splendid Temple in Jerusalem; and when Jesus came back to Capernaum, the men who were collecting the money came to Peter, and said, ‘Does not your Master pay the half-shekel?’ And Peter said, ‘Yes.’ Now the Temple was God’s house, and Jesus was God’s Son. And Jesus explained to Peter when he came into the house that kings did not expect their own sons to pay them taxes. But it was not wrong to pay the half-shekel, and Jesus never vexed people if He could possibly help it, so He said to Peter, ‘Go thou to the sea and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up, and when thou hast opened its mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money. That take, and give unto them for Me and thee.’

And now, after a long time, Jesus and His disciples went up to Jerusalem again; and as they walked along, they saw ten lepers standing a long way off. As Jesus came near, they cried out, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.’ Nine of the lepers were Jews, and one was a Samaritan. And Jesus was sorry for them all, and said, ‘Go, show yourselves to the priests.’ So they turned straight round to go to the priests, and lo! as they were going along the road, they suddenly felt that they were strong and well again. When the Samaritan felt in himself that the leprosy had gone away, he turned back, and threw himself down at the feet of Jesus, and thanked Him, and thanked God too for all His goodness. But none of the nine Jews came back to thank Jesus.

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Once upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor wood cutter, with his wife, and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called Hansel, and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or bite; and once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could hardly procure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one night, he sighed, and said to his wife, “What will become of us? How can we feed our children, when we have no more than we can eat ourselves?”

“Know then, my husband,” answered she, “we will lead them away, quite early in the morning, into the thickest part of the wood, and there make them a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread, then we will go to our work, and leave them alone, so they will not find the way home again, and we shall be freed from them.”

“No, wife,” replied he, “that I can never do; how can you bring your heart to leave my children all alone in the wood; for the wild beasts will soon come and tear them to pieces?”

“Oh, you simpleton!” said she, “then we must all four die of hunger; you had better plane the coffins for us.” But she left him no peace till he consented, saying, “Ah, but I shall miss the poor children.”

The two children, however, had not gone to sleep, for very hunger, and so they overheard what the stepmother said to their father. Grethel wept bitterly, and said to Hansel, “What will become of us?”

“Be quiet, Grethel,” said he; “do not cry—I will help you.” And as soon as their parents had gone to sleep, he got up, put on his coat, and, unbarring the back door, went out. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay before the door seemed like silver pieces, they glittered so brightly. Hansel stooped down, and put as many into his pocket as it would hold; and then going back he said to Grethel, “Be of good cheer, dear sister, and sleep in peace; God will not forsake us.” And so saying, he went to bed again.

The next morning, before the sun arose, the wife went and awoke the two children. “Get up, you lazy things; we are going into the forest to chop wood.” Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, “There is something for your dinner; do not eat it before the time, for you will get nothing else.” Grethel took the bread in her apron, for Hansel’s pocket was full of pebbles; and so they all set out upon their way. When they had gone a little distance, Hansel stood still, and peeped back at the house; and this he repeated several times, till his father said, “Hansel, what are you looking at, and why do you lag behind? Take care, and remember your legs.”

“Ah, father,” said Hansel, “I am looking at my white cat sitting upon the roof of the house, and trying to say good-bye.” “You simpleton!” said the wife, “that is not a cat; it is only the sun shining on the white chimney.” But in reality Hansel was not looking at a cat; but every time he stopped, he dropped a pebble out of his pocket upon the path.

When they came to the middle of the forest, the father told the children to collect wood, and he would make them a fire, so that they should not be cold. So Hansel and Grethel gathered together quite a little mount of twigs. Then they set fire to them; and as the flame burnt up high, the wife said, “Now, you children, lie down near the fire, and rest yourselves, whilst we go into the forest and chop more wood; when we are ready we will come and call you.”

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In the reign of the same caliph Haroun al Rusheed, whom I have already mentioned, there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called Hindbad. One day, when the weather was excessively hot, he was employed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to the other. Being much fatigued, and having still a great way to go, he came into a street where a refreshing breeze blew on his face, and the pavement was sprinkled with rose-water. As he could not desire a better place to rest and recruit himself, he took off his load and sat upon it, near a large mansion.

He was much pleased that he stopped in this place; for the agreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils that came from the house, mixing with the scent of the rose-water, completely perfumed and embalmed the air. Besides, he heard from within a concert of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious notes of nightingales, and other birds, peculiar to the climate. This charming melody, and the smell of several sorts of savoury dishes, made the porter conclude there was a feast, with great rejoicings within. His business seldom leading him that way, he knew not to whom the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his curiosity, he went to some of the servants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel, and asked the name of the proprietor.

“How,” replied one of them, “do you live in Bagdad, and know not that this is the house of Sinbad, the sailor, that famous voyager, who has sailed round the world?” The porter, who had heard of this Sinbad’s riches, could not but envy a man whose condition he thought to be as happy as his own was deplorable: and his mind being fretted with these reflections, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said loud enough to be heard, “Almighty creator of all things, consider the difference between Sinbad and me! I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can scarcely get coarse barley-bread for myself and my family, whilst happy Sinbad profusely expends immense riches, and leads a life of continual pleasure. What has he done to obtain from thee a lot so agreeable? And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?” Having finished his expostulation, he struck his foot against the ground, like a man absorbed in grief and despair.

Whilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came out of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow him, for Sinbad, his master, wanted to speak to him. Sir, your majesty may easily imagine, that the repining Hindbad was not a little surprised at this compliment. For, considering what he had said, he was afraid Sinbad had sent for him to punish him: therefore he would have excused himself, alleging, that he could not leave his burden in the middle of the street. But Sinbad’s servants assured him they would look to it, and were so urgent with him, that he was obliged to yield.

The servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of people sat round a table, covered with all sorts of savoury dishes. At the upper end sat a comely venerable gentleman, with a long white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and domestics, all ready to attend his pleasure. This personage was Sinbad. The porter, whose fear was increased at the sight of so many people, and of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company trembling. Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating him at his right hand, served him himself, and gave him excellent wine, of which there was abundance upon the sideboard.

When the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversation to Hindbad; and calling him brother, according to the manner of the Arabians, when they are familiar one with another, enquired his name and employment. “My lord,” answered he, “my name is Hindbad.” “I am very glad to see you,” replied Sinbad; “and I daresay the same on behalf of all the company: but I wish to hear from your own mouth what it was you lately said in the street.” Sinbad had himself heard the porter complain through the window, and this it was that induced him to have him brought in.

At this request, Hindbad hung down his head in confusion, and replied, “My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of humour, and occasioned me to utter some indiscreet words, which I beg you to pardon.” “Do not think I am so unjust,” resumed Sinbad, “as to resent such a complaint. I consider your condition, and instead of upbraiding, commiserate you. But I must rectify your error concerning myself. You think, no doubt, that I have acquired, without labour and trouble, the ease and indulgence which I now enjoy. But do not mistake; I did not attain to this happy condition, without enduring for several years more trouble of body and mind than can well be imagined. Yes, gentlemen,” he added, speaking to the whole company, “I can assure you, my troubles were so extraordinary, that they were calculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such voyages as I did, to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard a distinct account of my wonderful adventures, and the dangers I encountered, in my seven voyages; and since I have this opportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not doubting but it will be acceptable.”