demain!"

I asked the concierge if the general methods of Pestalozzi were
still used in the schools of Yverdon, "Mais certainement!" she
replied as we went into a room where twenty to thirty girls of ten
years were studying. There were three pleasant windows looking out
into the street; the ordinary platform and ordinary teacher's
table, with the ordinary teacher (in an extraordinary state of
coma) behind it; and rather rude desks and seats for the children,
but not a single ornament, picture, map, or case of objects and
specimens around the room. The children were nice, clean,
pleasant, stolid little things with braided hair and pinafores.
The sole decoration of the apartment was a highly-coloured chart
that we had noticed on the walls of all the other schoolrooms.
Feeling that this must be a sacred relic, and that it probably
illustrated some of the Pestalozzian foundation principles, I
walked up to it reverently,

"Qu'est-ce-que c'est cela, Madame?" I inquired, rather puzzled by
its appearance.

"C'est la methode de Pestalozzi," the teacher replied absently.

I wished that we kindergarten people could get Froebel's
educational idea in such a snug, portable shape, and drew nearer to
gaze at it. I can give you a very complete description of the
pictures from memory, as I copied the titles verbatim et literatim.
The whole chart was a powerful moral object-lesson on the dangers
of incendiarism and the evils of reckless disobedience. It was
printed appropriately in the most lurid colours, and divided into