long, arched noses and broad, flat ones. There you will see the fire
and passion of the Southern races and the self-poise, serenity, and
sturdiness of Northern nations. Pat is there, with a gleam of humor in
his eye ... Topsy, all smiles and teeth ... Abraham, trading tops with
little Isaac, next in line ... Hans and Gretchen, phlegmatic and
dependable ... Francois, never still for an instant ... Christina,
rosy, calm, and conscientious, and Duncan, canny and prudent as any of
his clan.

What an opportunity for amalgamation of races and for laying the
foundation of American citizenship! for the purely social atmosphere
of the kindergarten makes it a school of life and experience. Imagine
such a group hanging breathless upon your words, as you recount the
landing of the Pilgrims, or try to paint the character of George
Washington in colors that shall appeal to children whose ancestors
have known Napoleon, Cromwell, and Bismarck, Peter the Great,
Garibaldi, Bruce, and Robert Emmett.

To such an audience were the stories in his little book told; and the
lines that will perhaps seem commonplace to you glow for us with a
"light that never was on sea or land;" for "the secret of our emotions
never lies in the bare object, but in its subtle relations to our own
past."

As we turn the pages, radiant faces peep between the words; the echo
of childish laughter rings in our ears and curves our lips with its
happy memory; there isn't a single round O in all the chapters but
serves as a tiny picture-frame for an eager child's face! The commas
say, "Isn't there any more?" the interrogation points ask, "What did
the boy do then?" the exclamation points cry in ecstasy, "What a