is done in very good schools, sometimes,
because an enthusiasm for realistic and
lively presentation momentarily obscures
the faculty of discrimination. A much
loved and respected teacher whom I
recently listened to, and who will laugh if she
recognizes her blunder here, offers a good
"bad example" in this particular. She said
to an attentive audience of students that she
had at last, with much difficulty, brought
herself to the point where she could forget
herself in her story: where she could,
for instance, hop, like the fox, when she
told the story of the "sour grapes." She
said, "It was hard at first, but now it is a
matter of course; AND THE CHILDREN DO IT TOO,
WHEN THEY TELL THE STORY." That was the pity!
I saw the illustration myself a little later.
The child who played fox began with a
story: he said, "Once there was an old fox,
and he saw some grapes;" then the child
walked to the other side of the room, and
looked up at an imaginary vine, and said,
"He wanted some; he thought they would
taste good, so he jumped for them;" at
this point the child did jump, like his role;
then he continued with his story, "but he
couldn't get them." And so he proceeded,
with a constant alternation of narrative and
dramatization which was enough to make