The wisdom of Solomon.
The meekness of Moses, and--
The patience of Job.

Twelve years' experience with children has not lowered my ideals one
whit, nor led me to deem superfluous any of these qualifications; in
fact, I should make the list a little longer were I to write it now,
and should add, perhaps, the prudence of Franklin, the inventive power
of Edison, and the talent for improvisation of the early Troubadours.

The Troubadours, indeed, could they return to the earth, would wander
about lonely and unwelcomed till they found home and refuge in the
hospitable atmosphere of the kindergarten,--the only spot in the
busy modern world where delighted audiences still gather around the
professional story-teller.

If I were asked to furnish a recipe for one of these professional
story-tellers, these spinners of childish narratives, I should suggest
one measure of pure literary taste, two of gesture and illustration,
three of dramatic fire, and four of ready speech and clear expression.
If to these you add a pinch of tact and sympathy, the compound should
be a toothsome one, and certain to agree with all who taste it.

And now as to the kind of story our professional is to tell. In
selecting this, the first point to consider is its suitability to
the audience. A story for very little ones, three or four years old
perhaps, must be simple, bright, and full of action. They do not yet
know how to listen; their comprehension of language is very limited,
and their sympathies quite undeveloped. Nor are they prepared to take
wing with you into the lofty realms of the imagination: the adventures
of the playful kitten, of the birdling learning to fly, of the lost
ball, of the faithful dog,--things which lie within their experience
and belong to the sweet, familiar atmosphere of the household,--these
they enjoy and understand.

It will be found also that the number of children to whom one is
talking is a prominent factor in the problem of selecting a story.
Two or three little ones, gathered close about you, may pay strict
attention to a quiet, calm, eventless history; but a circle of twenty
or thirty eager, restless little people needs more sparkle and
incident.

If one is addressing a large number of children, the homes from which
they come must be considered. Children of refined, cultivated parents,
who have listened to family conversation, who have been talked to and
encouraged to express themselves,--these are able t