a string to its legs, let it fly off, then twitch it back again.
Leapfrog, hide-and-seek, etc., are in violent progress down every
alley. The streets are not all ideal playgrounds. Despite genteel
ideas of dignity and moderation, there is a great deal of foul talk
and brawling among the passers, and Athenian children have receptive
eyes and ears. Yet on the other hand, there is a notable regard
and reverence for childhood. With all its frequent callousness and
inhumanity, Greek sentiment abhors any brutality to young children.
Herodotus the historian tells of the falling of a roof, whereby one
hundred and twenty school children perished, as being a frightful
calamity,[*] although recounting cold-blooded massacres of thousands
of adults with never a qualm; and Herodotus is a very good spokesman
for average Greek opinion.

[*]Herodotus, VI. 27.


49. The First Stories and Lessons.--Athens has no kindergartens.
The first teaching which children will receive is in the form of
fables and goblin tales from their mothers and nurses,--usually
with the object of frightening them into "being good,"--tales of the
spectral Lamie, or of the horrid witch Mormo who will catch nasty
children; or of Empusa, a similar creature, who lurks in shadows
and dark rooms; or of the Kabaloi, wild spirits in the woods. Then
come the immortal fables of Aesop with their obvious application
towards right conduct. Athenian mothers and teachers have no
two theories as to the wisdom of corporeal punishment. The rod
is never spared to the spoiling of the child, although during the
first years the slipper is sufficient. Greek children soon have
a healthy fear of their nurses; but they often learn to love them,