stolen in upon their senses) would glance from side to side longingly,
as much as to say,--

"O Lord, why didst Thou not make thy servant a female, that he might
dandle one of these interesting objects without degradation!"

In such an hour I suddenly said, "Josephus, will you be the father
this time?" and without giving him a second to think, we began our
familiar lullaby. The radical nature, the full enormity, of the
proposition did not (in that moment of sweet expansion) strike
Josephus. He moved towards the cradle, seated himself in the chair,
put his foot upon the rocker, and rocked the baby soberly, while my
heart sang in triumph. After this the fathers as well as the mothers
took part in all family games, and this mighty and much-needed reform
had been worked through the magic of a fascinating plaything.




WHAT SHALL CHILDREN READ?

"What we make children love and desire is more important than what we
make them learn."


When I was a little girl (oh, six most charming words!)--it is not
necessary to name the year, but it was so long ago that children were
still reminded that they should be seen and not heard, and also that
they could eat what was set before them or go without (two maxims
that suggest a hoary antiquity of time not easily measured by the