o understand much
more lofty themes than the poor little mites who are only familiar
with plain, practical ideas, and rough speech confined to the most
ordinary wants of life.

And now, after the story is well selected, how long shall it be? It
is impossible to fix an exact limit to the time it should occupy, for
much depends on the age and the number of the children. I am reminded
again of recipes, and of the dismay of the inexperienced cook when she
reads, "Stir in flour enough to make a stiff batter." Alas! how is she
who has never made a stiff batter to settle the exact amount of flour
necessary?

I might give certain suggestions as to time, such as, "Close while
the interest is still fresh;" or, "Do not make the tale so long as
to weary the children;" but after all, these are only cook-book
directions. In this, as in many other departments of work with
children, one must learn in that "dear school" which "experience
keeps." Five minutes, however, is quite long enough with the babies,
and you will find that twice this time spent with the older children
will give room for a tale of absorbing interest, with appropriate
introduction and artistic _denouement_.

As one of the chief values of the exercise is the familiarity with
good English which it gives, I need not say that especial attention
must be paid to the phraseology in which the story is clothed. Many
persons who never write ungrammatically are inaccurate in speech, and
the very familiarity and ease of manner which the story-teller must
assume may lead her into colloquialisms and careless expressions. Of
course, however, the language must be simple; the words, for the most
part, Saxon. No ponderous, Johnsonian expressions should drag their
slow length through the recital, entangling in their folds the
comprehension of the child; nor, on the other hand, need we confine
ourselves to monosyllables, adopting the bald style of Primers and
First Readers. It is quite possible to talk simply and yet with grace
and feeling, and we may be sure that children invariably appreciate
poetry of expression.

The story should always be accompanied with gestures,--simple, free,
unstudied motions, descriptive, perhaps, of the sweep of the mother
bird's wings as she soars away from the nest, or the waving of the
fir-tree's branches as he sings to himself in the sunshine. This
universal language is understood at once by the children, and not
only serves as an interpreter of wo