artistic in that it touches these daily experiences with an idealism
revealing the significance and beauty of that which the jaded taste of
the adult designates as "commonplace." That all children crave the story
which is, or might be, true is evidenced by the expression of their
faces when their inevitable question, "is it really true?" or "did it
really happen?" is answered in the affirmative.

Perhaps some of us can recall the pleasure derived from old-fashioned
school readers of an earlier day. With all their faults they at least
did not overlook the value of standard realistic stories. In these
readers was found the very moral story of the boy who won the day
because of his forethought in providing an extra piece of whipcord.
There was also "Meddlesome Matty," and the honest office-boy, the heroic
lad of Holland, and the story of the newly liberated prisoner who bought
a cage full of captive birds and set them free. These and many others
still persist in memory, and point with unerring aim to standards of
human behavior under conditions which are both possible and probable.
In spite of their imperfections and stern morality these stories were
valuable because they recited the fundamental events of human and animal
existence, in relations which revealed the inevitable law of cause and
effect, and the ethical and poetic significance of man's relation to
all life.

As soon as children begin to realize the distinction between the
world of make-believe and the world of actuality, or, as one small boy
expressed it, "what I can see with my eyes shut, and what I can see when
I open them," they are fascinated with stories of real life, of "when
Father was a little boy," or "when Mother was a little girl," or "when
you were a tiny baby." This demand of the child for realistic stories
is the expression of a real want which should be satisfied with good