with simplicity,
is the perennial power in the world. And this is the mind we are not
noticeably successful in developing, in our system of schooling. Let us
at least have its needs before our consciousness, in our attempts to
supplement the regular studies of school by such side-activities as
story-telling. Let us give the children a fair proportion of stories
which stimulate independent moral and practical decisions.

And now for a brief return to our little black friend. _Epaminondas_
belongs to a very large, very ancient type of funny story: the tale in
which the jest depends wholly on an abnormal degree of stupidity on the
part of the hero. Every race which produces stories seems to have found
this theme a natural outlet for its childlike laughter. The stupidity of
Lazy Jack, of Big Claus, of the Good Man, of Clever Alice, all have
their counterparts in the folly of the small Epaminondas.

Evidently, such stories have served a purpose in the education of the
race. While the exaggeration of familiar attributes easily awakens mirth
in a simple mind, it does more: it teaches practical lessons of wisdom
and discretion. And possibly the lesson was the original cause of the
story.

Not long ago, I happened upon an instance of the teaching power of these
nonsense tales, so amusing and convincing that I cannot forbear to share
it. A primary teacher who heard me tell _Epaminondas_ one evening, told
it to her pupils the next morning, with great effect. A young teacher
who was observing in the room at the time told me what befell. She said
the children laughed very heartily over the story, and evidently liked
it much. About an hour later, one of them was sent to the board to do a
little problem. It happened that the child made an excessively foolish
mistake, and did not notice it. As he glanced at the teacher for the
familiar smile of encouragement, she simply raised her hands, and
ejaculated, "'For the law's sake!'"

It was sufficient. The child took the cue instantly. He looked hastily
at his work, broke into an irrepressible giggle, rubbed the figures out,
without a word, and began again. And the whole class entered into the
joke with the gusto of fellow-fools, for once wise.

It is safe to assume that the child in question will make fewer needless
mistakes for a long time because of the wholesome reminder of his
likeness with one who "ain't got the sense he was born with." And what
occurred so visibly in his case goe