houses, trees, etc., with which they are grouped. Size, position, and direction possess significance only in connection with the adequate expression of the pupil's idea. If figures are too large for buildings or do not stand on the ground, the teacher can criticise and suggest to some purpose. Children do not try to represent the impossible purposely.

This early teaching should deal mainly with the construction of the picture, so that the pupil may learn about the significance of the skyline, how some things may be made to appear far off, and how to plan his drawings so that room will be left for the representation of human and dumb participants in the illustration.

CHOICE OF LESSON MATERIAL

It is very important that the theme to be illustrated shall be perfectly familiar and of absorbing interest, in which case the drawing takes care of itself if one is willing to accept childish standards of representation. The business of instruction is to foster the natural inclination to draw by furnishing appropriate subjects for lessons. Incidentally as occasion offers the teacher suggests changes which help toward more and more satisfactory expression, without disturbing the pupil's belief that the picture is the essential aim, not the process of drawing. Therefore the method of teaching drawing, which most nearly approaches the beauty cultivation of the power of expression, takes little note at first of how to draw figures, animals, buildings, etc., but simply uses them frankly without criticism. Children are merely aided in the arrangement of their pictures. They are shown pictures from magazines and books and their efforts at drawing are directed into familiar channels.

The early steps in teaching may be illustrated by the following outline, which will serve as a type.

Subject - The Street of a Small Town

I Draw church, stores, postoffice, school, library, fire

2

house, railway station, town hall. A little questioning and suggestion will bring out the characteristics. which belong to each kind of building. A little observation outside will increase the number of building symbols.

Draw two or three buildings which stand together on the street. Size and proportion, color, etc., are features.

3 Draw vehicles. Collect drawings of all kinds common to the village. The trolley car and automobile are familiar in most communities. Add horses to the vehicles.

Draw people going to market, the ice man, milk man and children looking in store windows, drawing wagons for sleds), etc.

5 Collect these symbols into a picture in this way. Cut out some of the drawings of buildings and paste them on the blackboard or a large sheet of paper to form the background of the street. Cut out vehicles and people in the same way and paste them in place temporarily, where the children think they belong. If the size relation is wrong some of the things may have to be redrawn. In this way pupils can get at the arrangement of the picture, because its several elements can be shifted about until each separate thing does its part in telling the story.

6 Make a similar study of outdoors in winter. Draw the buildings, sleds, and children sliding. Make experimental arrangements of these elements, then plan a large winter picture, draw the several parts, cut them out and paste them in place.

7 The outline from here on may include any sequence of topics which will interest primary children, as: illustrations of the kitchen, dining-room, etc., chicken house and yard, or rabbit hutch, the picnic. Indian. life, gardening, and as many others.

As construction work the illustration pages give a stool such as those on which trained elephants and clowns perform, a peanut or lemonade stand, the ticket seller's booth and an animal cart. (See pages 330 and 331.)

In constructing any of these objects cut on the heavy lines and fold on the light ones except those marked X. The stool calls for a 6" x 12", a 4" x 12" or a 5" x 12" paper. In the two latter cases use the measurements given in the illustrations except the 4" one. Let this measurement be what is left after the 2" one has been set off.

The ticket office is made from a 9" x 12" paper. Paste a to a-1, b to b-1 and c to C-I. Print the signs as shown in the illustration.

The peanut stand is made from a 9" x 12" paper. Paste A to A-1 and B under B-1. See illustration. Paste the two 9" edges of two 9" x 12" pieces of paper together for the animal cart. The top, one end and one side are given in the illustration. The other end and side are like those shown. Paste a to a-1 in all cases, beginning with the strips on the sides. These make the bars of the cage. If preferred, the a pieces may be cut away. Prepare a floor for the cart like the pattern. Paste the C's at the end of the cage to the C's on the cart floor and the C's at the ends of the bars to the C's on the floor" apart. Paste the "laps of the floor over these last pastings to make a finished projecting shelf around the base of the cage. Make the seat as shown and paste A to A-1. Make the box axles like the pattern and paste as the small sketch indicates, a inside of Cut four 3" circles from thick paper for wheels, or cut eight circles pasting them double thickness. Punch holes at the centre of the ends of the box axles and at the centres of the wheels. Fasten the wheels to the axles by means of brass paper fasteners. Paste the B surfaces of the axles to Cut a simple the under side of the floor of the anmial wagon. paper pole and attach it to the front of the cart. See illustration. After pasting the ends of the cage to the floor and before pasting the bars to the floor, draw or cut an animal.

a-I.

Runaway Fritz X

ALICE E. ALLEN

The Locket Lady

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Joe runs away from a circus, finds a good home, goes to school to Miss Raye, meets Betty. Betty's father sends her a dog who turns out to be Fritz, the trick-dog Joe left behind in the circus. Betty gives Fritz to Joe. Joe gives Betty a locket he has always had, marked M. E. B. - her own initials. He keeps the lady's picture which has always been in the locket. Miss Raye loses her purse. Nearly every one thinks Joe has taken it. At last, Betty's father, with other of Joe's friends, and Fritz himself, proves that Fritz was the thief.

When the red automobile dashed away to carry Jane Wren home, Betty said to Joe:

"You think now, Joey, that all the lovely things have happened but you just wait - they're only just beginning." Could anything be lovelier than having all the twenty little Locusts friendly again? Then June danced in with days as sweet as wild roses. The locust-trees, everywhere, were loaded down with bunches of white blossoms. The air was heavy with perfume. There was only one unpleasant thing Joe could possibly find to think of. That was that almost before anyone could think, fall would come and Betty would go away.

One Friday night Betty said to him:

"Father's coming to-night. He said to tell you he is going to bring back your locket-lady. Had you forgotten about her, Joey?"

Joe shook his head.

"I never quite forget her, Betty. I don't always think much about her. But she's always round. I suppose that's 'cause I knew her when I was such a little chap - before I knew you, even."

"Dear me," cried Betty. She. clapped both hands over her mouth. "Just you wait - oh, I know I'm going to tell. I told Father I couldn't keep it. Don't come near me, Joey till to-morrow. Then come just as early as you can." Joe was at the Blake house the next morning as early as he could get through his work. Betty, in a ruffled pink gown, was on the great stone gate-post looking for him. She seemed like a big bobbing rose herself

"Let's run, Joey," she cried, hopping down and taking Joe's hand. "Father's waiting for us on the front porch."

Betty's father's eyes were almost as twinkly and bright as Betty's. He took both Joe's little red rough hands in his. "Sit down, Joey," he said. "Last night, I told Betty a story which she says I must tell you."

"Hurry, Father," cried Betty, hopping about. "I've waited just about as long as I can."

Joe sat down on the rail of the porch. All through the story, the locust blossoms fell down over him, hot and sweet in the sun.

"Once upon a time," began Betty's father, smiling at Joe. "It sounds like a fairy story," said Joe.

"It's better than any fairy story I ever heard," cried Betty. "Do go on, Father."

"Once upon a time," said Betty's father again, "on this

very porch, under these same old locust trees, there lived a little girl and a little boy. The little girl's name was Ruth. She was the boy's adopted sister." "The little boy was you, Father," said Betty, "tell him that, now."

"Yes," said Betty's father, "I was the little boy. When I grew up, I married my little adopted sister Ruth." "She was my mother," said Betty softly. "But I didn't have much time to get acquainted with her. She died when I was a baby."

Betty's father drew her to him.

"When Betty's mother was a little girl like Betty," he said, "and I was a little boy like you, Joey, we had a little girl friend who used to come from a western city to visit us. Her name was Marian. We all used to play together on this porch. As we all grew up, Marian still came often. The very day that Ruth married me, Marian married a man whose name was Bernard. She was married here on this porch with us. You see, her people were very wealthy and did not like the poor man she married. He was an artist. He lived in New York. He painted beautiful pictures of people, called miniatures. Of course, he painted many of Marian. One of them he put into a plain, dull-gold locket, marked M. E. B." "Marian Elizabeth Bernard," cried Betty. "The locket lady?" said Joe, bewildered. "Yes," said Betty's father," the locket lady." "But where did I get her?" asked Joe.

"That's the strangest part of all this strange story," said Betty's father. "By and by, a little boy came to the Bernard's home. When the baby was two years old, Mr. Bernard was killed in a railway accident. Marian was badly hurt and carried to a hospital. The baby wasn't hurt. He was found all by himself done up in a blanket. The man who found him was the manager of a circus. He didn't care much for babies. But his wife did. And her own little boy baby had been killed in the accident. She wanted the living baby for her own. She wanted him so very, very much that she wouldn't let her husband advertise him or ask any questions about him. There was no one to object. So she took him home with her. The only thing of any value about the baby was a locket on a little chain. It was marked M. E. B."

Joe's eyes were big and round.

"Was I that baby?" he asked slowly. "Yes, Joe."

"And the woman who wanted me?"

"Was Mrs. Marshall. She kept you and took care of you as well as she could."

"Father's been to see her," put in Betty eagerly. "He found out every single thing before he'd let me tell you a word."

Joe was standing close to Betty's father.

"Then I did have some folks of my own?" he said. "The locket lady -"

"Was my very own mother?"

"Your very own mother, Joey." "Did she die?"

"Oh, Father," cried Betty, "do let me tell the rest. She

didn't die - of course not, Joey. Don't you remember the secret I told you about Mrs. Bernard? How she's going to be my very own mother?

"She got well just as quick as she could after the accident. She hunted and hunted and hunted for her lost baby. Her father and mother took her to live with them. But she couldn't stay there. She came back to New York, near where her baby was lost. She has lived near us ever since I can remember. She's spent bushels and bushels of dollars looking for her baby. After a long, long time, she almost gave up. Then I found you and told her about you and showed her my locket. Of course she began to wonder. But Father wouldn't let her hope much, till he was sure. And now he's just as sure as sure can be. Your name isn't Joseph Marshall at all; it's Joel Bernard."

Joe scarcely heard.

"Where is she?" he cried.

Betty's father looked toward the wide-open porch door. So did Betty. Then Joe looked, too.

And there, holding out both arms to him and smiling and crying both at once, was the locket lady.

Never was there such a week as the one that followed. The locket lady was real. She stayed at the Blake house. Joe stayed with her. Joel Bernard seemed to be real, too, although each morning when he awoke, he expected to be Joseph Marshall again. Miss Raye and all the little Locusts couldn't say how glad they were for him. Miss Wren and Mr. and Mrs. Davis all came to see him and all said they had always known he would find some people of his own, some day. Meanwhile, Fritz was everywhere. A day or two at the

Blake's where he could scarcely leave the locket lady long enough to eat. Then a day at the Davis's. And next he would be heard from at Jane Wren's.

Saturday afternoon, Betty's father and Betty and the locket lady and Joe were to go to New York. In the morning they all sat together on the porch with Aunt Prudence and Aunt Priscilla.

"Fritz," said Joe. "Fritz crossed the porch slowly. He stretched himself out as long as he possibly could beside Joe." "It's time for you to make up your mind," said Joe gravely. "Will you stay with the Davis's? They say you're a born farmer. Or will you go and live with Jane Wren in the Wren's nest? She wants you. Or will you come to New York with my mother

"Who's going to be my mother, too," explained Betty. "And Betty's father," went on Joe.

"Who's going to be Joe's father," cried Betty. "And Betty and me?" finished Joe.

Fritz looked sober. He got up, stretched, crossed the porch and sat down on Aunt Priscilla's feet.

Everyone laughed.

"You may stay here, Fritz," said Aunt Priscilla. "Then when Betty and Joe come back to visit, you'll be here." The matter seemed settled.

That afternoon, the big red automobile stood in front of the Blake porch. The good-byes were all said. Then there came a wild scramble through the rose bushes, a flying rush across the smooth lawn, a frantic bark. And a moment later, when the car sped swiftly down the drive, in the tonneau with Betty and Joe, sat Runaway Fritz.

Mayor Come in.

Pied Piper I can drive the rats out of the town for you. Mayor Who are you and how can you do this thing? Pied Piper I am called the Pied Piper. I cannot tell you what I shall do, but if you will promise to give me a thousand pieces of gold, I will soon show you what I can do.

Mayor A thousand pieces of gold! I will give you five thousand.

(Piper goes into street and begins to play a tune on his pipe. All the rats run after him and dance into the river.)

(Piper Marches down the street, playing on his pipe, and the children run out of the houses after him.)

Lame Boy Oh where are the children, I want to go with them.

Mayor Why do you cry, little boy?

Lame Boy I wished to go with the other children. When the man played on his pipe, it told us about a beautiful land. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. The children played all day in the fields. They were never ill nor lame. I ran as fast as I could, but when I got here, the children were gone and I could not find the door.

Mayor I'll send my men North, South, East, and West to find the Pied Piper. If he will only come back and bring the children with him, I will give him all the gold in the town. Lame Boy I am afraid they will never come back from that beautiful country.

The Crow and the Fox

ANNIE CHASE

(Little girl in black paper dress is the crow; she is eating a nice cake.)

Fox (comes in) Hello, Crow! what are you eating?
Crow Oh! a nice sweet cake. (She takes a bite.)
Fox It looks good.

Crow It is as good as it looks.

Fox Give me a bite.

Fox I thought so, you look it. Crow That is what they all say. Fox I should like to hear you.

Crow By and by perhaps I will sing for you, but I must first eat my cake.

Fox I am sorry, but I must go soon; I am in haste. I do like music. I wish you would sing for me before I go. Crow (opens her mouth to sing and drops the cake) Caw! Caw! Oh! I have lost my cake.

(Fox grabs cake and runs away laughing)

Fox Oh, ho ho! you silly crow, now I have the cake. Caw! Caw! what a fine song, ha! ha! ha!

Outdoor Games

In the October n mber of this magazine I saw an article in regard to "Out-door Games." This year we have had swings placed in our recess yard and the pupils of the first five grades take turns by grades in using the swings. The first grade have the swings Monday; the second grade Tuesday, and so on. The older girls volunteer to swing the younger ones.

We have a sand table, too, or rather we have a large box, which a carpenter built for us on the ground, that will hold a load of sand. The lake sand is so clean it does not soil the children's hands. Tins and spoons are provided for the children to use. We arrange for this in the same way, one grade or part of grade having it for a day. The boys especially love this and build railroads and tunnels in the sand.

We have bean bags for the girls who sometimes play catch, and sometimes throw the bags through a hole cut in a piece of a board.

They enjoy the circle game, "The Farmer in the Dell," and the younger ones like "Lame Fox" and the "Muffin Man."

A. M. M.

Something to do in Vacation

While vacation should be primarily a time for rest, change of thought, and recreation, there are sure to be some rainy mornings in the late summer, when some leisurely getting ready for next year's work will not come amiss.

How are your tools? Have you a hektograph, a pantograph, cut out words for sentence building, plenty of stout envelopes for holding clippings, maps, and pictures? Have you all of the latter that you need?

Do you know the possibilities of the "ten cent store"? They are a mine for the primary teacher. A rubber printing outfit with a three line holder, a compass, gummed labels, scissors, and dolls for geography and history lessons, recently came from such a shop. With the printing outfit cut-out words for sentence construction, charts, etc., can be cheaply made, and are in many ways more satisfactory than any one can buy.

The teacher who cannot draw knows all about impression paper, waxed paper, and other means of copying, but she cannot always find a picture or map to copy of the right size unless she have a pantograph. A good one costs fifty cents or more, but the teacher who can whittle, or who has a handy man whom she can call upon, can make one for herself. All that is required are four flat strips of wood, 1" wide by 12 or

14" long (the thin boards from an orange crate are just the thing) with holes bored at intervals of an inch their entire length; four small stove bolts to fasten the wood together in the form of a parallelogram (see drawing). A soft pencil 1" long is fastened securely at A so that it extends out from the under side of the wood just as far as the stove bolts do. At B is a sharpened stick to be used as a tracer. The joints or angles C D E B must slide freely, while the tracer follows the lines of the picture which is to be copied. The length of the sides of the parallelogram, which can be changed by putting the bolts into different holes, determines the size of the enlarged picture. If the wood is very light it may be necessary to weight it at A, so that the pencil will trace a good black line. For this purpose sealing wax with a pebble or two will do very well.