III. On the Use of the Pictures in "Journeys" HILDREN love pictures, and they love to make them. We of riper years are inclined to forget how very strong was our pictorial instinct when we were young. A little girl may make on a sheet of paper a few irregular lines not very well connected, wholly meaningless, to us, and see in them very plainly every lineament of her favorite doll. She sees no lines, no paper, only her own precious doll. A little later she will draw pictures to illustrate a story, and while we may see nothing in her work, she sees enough to make the story more real, and is in this way preparing herself to read more intelligently and with greater appreciation as she grows older. We should not laugh at these crude drawings, nor try to make them better. They express her ideas in her way, and that is enough. On the other hand, we should encourage her to try other pictures for other stories till she learns herself to distrust her drawings, or finds a way to express herself so that others may understand what she thinks and feels.

Pictures mean something, always. In the first place they show to him who can read them what some one else has thought and felt. If they are meant to illustrate something in literature, they may fail because the artist has not caught the spirit of what he is trying to depict, or because he lacks in execution. On our side, they may fail because we cannot interpret his work, either from

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lack of understanding or from the dullness of our sensibilities. Again, we may object to the artist's interpretation of the literature, and his pictures may merely excite our opposition. Usually, however, we see through the artist's eyes from a new point of view, so that, even if we do not altogether approve what we see, we are led to question and find for ourselves something new, pleasing and helpful.

Children are harsh critics, not only of pictures but of literature itself, and the critical spirit is a good one to cultivate, if it is not allowed to fall into captious fault-finding. On the whole, however, it is far better to point out the good things in a picture than to call attention to poor execution or poor conception. Leave criticism generally to those infrequent cases in which the artist has actually blundered because he has not read the selection closely or accurately, or has been careless in the things he ought to know. For instance, it would be absurd to show King Arthur in a modern dress suit, or to put fire-arms in the hands of the Indians who met Columbus for the first time. But such faults occur infrequently. Usually the pictures are careful studies, and give many a hint on costuming, manners and customs, as well as on the proper surroundings of the characters.

Some selections are so universal in their nature, so freely applicable to all times and places, that the artist may be allowed to delineate any people, anywhere, at any time. Nursery rhymes, so often alluded to, lend themselves to

an endless variety of imaginary people and places. The old woman might be living still in her shoe and whipping her children soundly, in a twentieth-century wrapper, or clothed in skins she might send them supperless to bed in prehistoric ages. Whether Jack and Jill wore wooden shoes or patent-leather pumps we shall never really know; perhaps their little feet were encased in moccasins, or they may have been bare and ornamented with rings: what we do know is that Jack broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after.

So we will give the artists all the latitude they wish, as long as they keep the facts straight, and we will try to help the children to see what the artist saw, and so get clearer visions for themselves.

The pictures in these books are from many artists, all of whom have tried to give at least an interpretation of the selection they were working upon, and to give it in such a way as to be helpful and inspiring to their youthful readers. Every time the artists have tried to get a child's view of things and to draw so that a child will like their work. Their enthusiasm has been boundless, and their execution remarkably good. Some of their pictures are gay, some are grave, a few sad; some are highly imaginative and others very realistic. Not a few are wonderfully beautiful. Among so many designs, so many kinds, everyone will find something to admire.

Among the many, let us take a few for a brief study to show that they may be used with

children to make literature clear, to give interest and keener appreciation.

The very first picture among the nursery rhymes (Volume I, page 3) is a charmingly ideal thing. Isn't Daffy-Down-Dilly a dainty miss, and isn't she proud of her yellow petticoat and her green gown? See the quaint buildings in the distance: Daffy-Down-Dilly must have come up to some lovely old English town. Would you ever have thought of her as walking so mincingly-and would you ever have dreamed of hanging a parrot in that fine old window? Certainly we would not. But the artist has thought of more. Do you see the yellow daffodils with their long green leaves, growing there by the walk? O, that is what the rhyme means: it is spring; the daffodils are in bloom!

My Bed is a Boat (Volume I, page 124) is a fine picture for study. Ask questions like the following: What has the boy in his hand? Does he think of it as a broom? What is he doing with it? How many toys has he in the boat? What are they? What has he tied to one of the bed-posts? What does he call it? What is the stick that shows in the upper left hand corner? What is hanging from the stick? What is the bar across the top of the picture? Interesting questions may be asked about the poem: What happens when he sees and hears no more? What is a prudent sailor? What do prudent sailors have to take on board? What is a pier? What is the pier beside which the boy finds his vessel fast?

On page 272 of Volume One is printed Wynken, Blynken and Nod, Eugene Field's musical lyric for little ones. The attractive picture may be looked at before the poem is read. Questions help the children more than explanations and comments, particularly where they are logically asked. The natural order is to ask about the prominent things first, and then about minor details, thus: How many children are there? Where are they? What does their boat look like? What is the child in the heel of the shoe doing? Where are the other two sitting? What have they in their hands? What are they doing with the net? Are they catching any fish? What can you see on the backs of three of the fish? Where is the moon? What can you see in the moon? Is the face laughing? Now let us read the poem, and when we have done so, let us see what lines in particular the artist was thinking about. Who are the three children? "Wynken, Blynken and Nod." What did they do? "Sailed off in a wooden shoe . . into a sea of dew." What did the moon say? "Where are you going and what do you wish?"" What did the children answer? "We have come to fish for the herring fish.'" What kind of nets have they? "Nets of silver and gold." What did the old moon do? "The old moon laughed and sang a song. What were the herring fish? "The herring fish were the little stars," reflected in the water. How long did they fish? "All night long their nets they threw." Where did they throw their nets? "To the stars in the