silver. Yet, though their raiment was bright and gay, and though all the usual instruments of festivity were there, and a thousand tall candles shed their light over the scene, no one looked happy.

Then was heard a low sound like thunder, and the earth seemed to tremble, and after that they distinctly heard a footfall like the low, deliberate tread of a giant. These footfalls sent a chill into every heart, and every face, gloomy before, was now pale.

The King leaned past his son, Art the Solitary, and said to a certain Druid who sat beside Art, "Is this the son of Midna come before his time?" "It is not," said the Druid, "but it is the man who is to conquer Midna. One is coming to Tara this night before whose glory all other glory shall wax dim."

Shortly after that they heard the voices of the doorkeepers raised in contention, as if they would repel from the hall some one who wished to enter, then a slight scuffle, and after that a strange figure entered the chamber. He was dressed in the skins of wild beasts, and wore over his shoulders a huge thick cloak of wild boars' skins, fastened on the breast with a white tusk of the same animal. He wore a shield and two spears. Though of huge stature his face was that of a boy, smooth on the cheeks and lips. It was white and ruddy, and very handsome. His hair was like refined gold. A light seemed to go out from him, before which the candles burned dim. It was Finn. He stood in the doorway, and cried out in a strong and sonorous, but musical, voice:

"O Conn the Hundred-Fighter, son of Felimy, the righteous son of Tuthal the legitimate, O King of the Kings of Erin, a wronged and disinherited youth, possessing nowhere one rood of his patrimony, a wanderer and an outlaw, a hunter of the wildernesses and mountains, claims hospitality of thee, illustrious prince, cn the eve of the great festival of Samhain."

"Thou art welcome whoever thou art," answered the King," "and doubly welcome because thou art unfortunate. I think, such is thy face and form, that thou art the son of some mighty king on whom disaster has fallen undeserved. The high gods of Erin grant thee speedy restoration and strong vengeance of thy many wrongs. Sit here, O neble youth, between me and my only son, Art, heir to my kingdom.'

An attendant took his weapons from the youth and hung them on the walls with the rest, and Finn sat down between the King of Ireland and his only son. Choice food was set before him, which he ate, and old ale, which he drank. From the moment he entered no one thought of anything but of him. When Finn had made an end of eating and drinking, he said to the King:

"O illustrious prince, though it is not right for a guest even to seem to observe aught that may be awry, or not as it should be, in the hall of his entertainer, yet the sorrow of a kindly host is a sorrow, too, to his guest, and sometimes unawares the man of the house finds succcor and help in the stranger. There is sorrow in this chamber of festivity. If anyone who is dear to thee and thy people happens to be dead, I can do nothing. But I say it, and it is not a vain boast, that even if a person is at the point of death, I can restore him to life and health, for there are marvelous powers of life-giving in my two hands."

Conn the Hundred-Fighter answered, "Our grief is not such as you suppose; and why should I not tell a cause of shame, which is known far and wide? This, then, is the reason of our being together, and the gloom which is over us. There is a mighty enchanter whose dwelling is in the haunted mountains of Slieve Gullion in the north. His name is Allen, son of Midna, and his enmity to me is as great as his power. Once every year, at this season, it is his pleasure to burn Tara. Decending out of his wizard haunts, he standeth over against it, till it is consumed. Then he goes away mocking and

triumphant. This annual building of Tara, only to be annually consumed, is a shame to me, and till this enchanter declared war against me, I have lived without reproach."

But," said Finn, "how is it that thy young warriors, valiant and swift, do not repel him, or kill him?" "Alas!" said Conn, "all our valor is in vain againstt this man. Our hosts encompass Tara on all sides, keeping watch and ward when the fatal night comes. Then the son of Midna plays on his Druidic instrument of music, on his magic pipe and his magic lyre, and as the fairy music falls on our ears, our eyelids grow heavy, and soon all subside upon the grass in deep slumber. So comes this man against the city and shoots his fire-balls against it, and utterly consumes it. Nine years he has burnt Tara in that manner, and this is the tenth. At midnight tonight he will come and do the same. Last year (though it was a shame to me that I, who am the high King over all Ireland, should not be able to defend Tara) I summoned Gaul mac Morna and all the Fians to my assistance. They came, but the pipe and lyre of the son of Midna prevailed over them too, so that Tara was burned as at other times. Nor have we any reason to believe that the son of Midna will not burn the city again to-night as he did last year. All the women and children have been sent out of Tara this day. We are only men of war here, waiting for the time. That, O noble youth, is why we are sad. The 'Pillars of Tara' are broken, and the might of the Fians is as nought before the power of this man."

"What shall be my reward if I kill this man and save Tara asked Finn"?

"Thy inheritance," answered the King, "be it great or small, and whether it lies in Ireland or beyond Ireland; and for securities I give you my son Art and Gaul mac Morna and the chief of the Fians."

Gaul and the captains of the Fianna consented to that arrangement, though reluctantly, for their minds misgave them as to who the great youth might be.

After that all rose and armed themselves and ringed Tara round with horse and foot, and thrice Conn the Hundred Fighter raised his awful regal voice, enjoining vigilance upon his people, and thrice Gaul mac Morna did the same, addressing the Fians, and after that they filled their ears with wax and wool, and kept a stern and fierce watch, and many of them thrust the points of their swords into their flesh.

Now Finn was alone in the banqueting chamber after the rest had gone out, and he washed his face and his hands in pure water, and he took from the bag that was at his girdle the instruments of divination and magic, which had been his father's, and what use he made of them is not known; but ere long a man stood before him, holding a spear in one hand and a blue mantle in the other. There were twenty nails of gold of Arabia in the spear. The nails glittered like stars, and twinkled with live light as stars do in a frosty night, and the blade of it quivered like a tongue of white fire. From haft to blade-point that spear was alive. There were voices in it too, and the war-tunes of the enchanted races of Erin, whom they called the Tuatha De Danan, sounded from it. The mantle, too, was a wonder, for innumerable stars twinkled in the blue, and the likeness of clouds passed through it. The man gave these things to Finn, and when he had instructed him in their use, he was not seen.

Then Finn arose and armed himself, and took the magic spear and mantle and went out. There was a ring of flame round Tara that night, for the Fians and the warriors of Conn had torches in their hands, and all the royal buildings of Tara showed clear in the light, and also the dark serpentine course of the Boyne, which flowed past Tara on the north; and there, standing silent and alert, were the innumerable warriors of all Erin, with spear and shield, keeping watch and ward against the son of Midna, also

still singing and talking to the wind, but thinking in the back of her head how nice and warm and cozy it would be at Grandma's house.

By and by through the snow she saw something yellow. It was Aunt Caroline's house. It was the smallest house Carol had even seen. It looked like a picture of the one where Red Riding Hood's Grandmother lived.

There was a little round hill back of it. The hill looked like a great white frosted cake. Carol didn't stop to look long. Suppose Aunt Caroline should see her and call her in. Then, "Tap! Tap! Tap!" sounded something on the front window of Aunt Caroline's house. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" it said as plainly as could be.

Carol didn't want to stop. But of course she did. You always did whatever Aunt Caroline said to do - if you could. Somebody was in the window. Carol couldn't see whether it was Aunt Caroline, or Mary Ann, the woman who lived with her.

It was Aunt Caroline. She came out on the porch. "Take off those snowshoes, brush your feet, and come in. Step on the rugs. Your mother wants to speak to you," she said.

Carol took off the snowshoes, and brushed off as much snow as she could. Then she went into Aunt Caroline's prim, old-fashioned living-room, where the telephone was. "Carol dear," said Mamma's anxious voice, a minute later into Carol's ear, "oh, I'm so glad you're there! I thought you would never come! I've been sitting right here waiting and waiting. I ought never to have let you go in such a storm. Now stay right there, dear, till Father can come and take you to Grandma's. I'll phone her that you're safe with Aunt Caroline."

"Oh Mamma, dear!" cried Carol into the receiver. But there wasn't any answer.

And there she was with Aunt Caroline and the yellow cat, Jewel, in the little yellow house. Outside, was one of the biggest blizzards February or any other month had ever known. Even Mary Ann had gone to her own home in town to stay until Sunday night.

Aunt Caroline sat by the window knitting. She fretted about the storm and Joe Weller, the neighbor's boy, who couldn't get there to shovel her out. She fretted because Mary Ann had gone. She fretted because Mamma had let Carol start in such a storm.

Carol sat in the other window with the wristlet she was knitting for Father's birthday. She knitted a few stitches, then she ravelled them out and knitted them again.

"Your father will be old and gray before he gets that

wristlet," said Aunt Caroline, "if you don't stop ravelling it." "I ravel better than I knit," said Carol, gravely. "Why don't you learn to knit properly?" snapped Aunt Caroline.

"I don't know," said Carol.

She knitted along, not daring to ravel any more, no matter how it looked. Jewel snored. The old clock ticktocked, tick-tocked. tocked, tick-tocked. At last, in a hoarse, wheezy tone, it struck four.

"May I take a book, please, Aunt Caroline?" asked Carol.

"Yes," said Aunt Caroline, as if she'd much rather say "No." "If your hands are clean and you don't turn down the corners," she added.

Carol had never before thought of turning down a book's corners. If it really didn't hurt, like pinching a finger, it would hurt the book's feelings. Carol loved books.

"What for, Aunt Caroline?" she asked, half way to the bookcase.

"Because it spoils the book," said Aunt Caroline. "I didn't mean I meant"

"Don't stammer so, child!" cried Aunt Caroline, sharply. "Do you think I want a stuttering, stammering namesake? Now, what do you want to say? Out with it!"

"What would you turn down its corners for?" said Carol.

"I wouldn't," said Aunt Caroline, "and be sure you don't, either!"

You never could get anywhere with Aunt Caroline. Carol took a small blue book from its shelf. It had very small print and no pictures at all. Somehow, it made her think of Aunt Caroline. She put it carefully back and tried another. But that was no better. So she sat down again by the window to watch for Father. It was almost dark.

"Your father won't come to-night, you'll see, young lady," said Aunt Caroline. "So we may as well make up our minds to it."

Not come to-night! Carol looked up the road and down the road, or tried to. There wasn't much up nor down. All she could see was snow, snow, snow! Just then the phone rang sharply. Aunt Caroline answered it.

"Your father says he'll come for you in the morning," she said. "He can't get here to-night. And your mother says for you to be a good girl!”

(To be continued)

The Pied Piper

(Adapted from Browning's "Pied Piper of Hamelin")

It seems that long, long ago there was a little town that was dreadfully troubled with rats. One day a queer looking man came to the town. The Mayor promised this man a large sum of money if he would rid the town of the rats. This queer man took away the rats, but the Mayor did not keep his promise. Now what do you think happened?

The Pied Piper can be very effectively dramatized in costume. The Piper, of course, is gowned in red and yellow. The Mayor wears a black flowing robe and a white wig. All the ladies dress in long dresses and wear bonnets of some kind. For the children, choose the smallest pupils. They can wear their white dresses and baby hoods. The baby who was in the cradle wears a white cap and white bloomers. This cradle baby creeps when the children run after the Piper. Long cambric tails are fastened to the brownie suits, that have been used in other plays, and they are used for the rat costumes.

SCENE I Mrs. Elizabeth is in her home rocking and singing her baby to sleep. Her callers come and go. She chases the rat that bites her baby, then sings and rocks the cradle until the curtain is drawn.

SCENE II The stage is in readiness for the town meeting. The Mayor is seated at his desk. The people enter and the discussion takes place. Finally the Piper comes and takes away the rats that run after him from different parts of the stage. When the rats are gone the Mayor asks the gentlemen to take off the chairs. While the chairs are being removed, the children come in from both sides of the stage.

When they are ready for the bonfire, the Piper returns for his money. Finally he takes the children, but the lame boy returns. When the lame boy reports, all the parents slowly leave the stage, all of them weeping. Then the lame boy lies down to sleep and has a dream. He dreams that the children return with the Piper and take him with them. So the children come in, following the Piper. They see the lame boy asleep and throw him a kiss. He awakes and they take him away with them.

CHARACTERS All the schoolroom may take part. Those whose names are not mentioned are the rats and the children.

SCENE I

Mrs. Elizabeth Please watch my baby, Mrs. Cleona, while I go to the door.

Mrs. Cleona Certainly.

Mrs. Elizabeth How do you do, Mrs. Louise?

Mrs. Louise How do you do, Mrs. Elizabeth? I am pleased to see you, Mrs. Cleona.

Mrs. Cleona Thank you, Mrs. Louise. (Rats squeak.) Mrs. Louise Oh, that squeaking and shrieking! I hear it everywhere.

Mrs. Cleona Yes, now they fight the dogs and they kill the cats.

Mrs. Elizabeth But the worst of all is, they bite the babies in their cradles. Will you excuse me for a moment? Both Certainly, Mrs. Elizabeth.

Mrs. Cleona How is your baby, Mrs Louise?
Mrs. Louise A little nervous, my dear.

Mrs. Cleona I am very sorry. What is her name?
Mrs. Louise Arabella Jemima, my dear.
Mrs. Cleona Unusual, isn't it?

Mrs. Louise I think so, my dear.

Mrs. Elizabeth (enters) Have a glass of lemonade, ladies. Mrs. Cleona Thank you, Mrs. Elizabeth. I am very fond of lemonade.

Mrs. Louise Thank you, my dear. (Rats squeak.) Mrs. Cleona There it is again. We cannot even have a chat on account of their squeaking and shrieking. Mrs. Elizabeth We have no peace.

Mrs. Cleona Peace! They will eat us out of house and home.

Mrs. Elizabeth I am sure that it is time there was something done.

Mrs. Cleona I fear that we have a lazy old mayor. Mrs. Louise I think that the mayor is much worried over the situation.

Mrs. Cleona Well, why doesn't he do something, then? Mrs. Louise This is a difficult problem, my dear. Did you know that there is to be a meeting to consider this rat problem?

Mrs. Cleona Yes, and all the mothers should attend this meeting; for the houses are full of rats, the barns are full of rats, the stores are full of rats, the churches are full "of rats, there are rats everywhere.

Mrs. Elizabeth I am so glad that you are a public speaker, Mrs. Cleona, for we certainly need you to talk on the rat question.

Mrs. Cleona I am prepared to say a great deal. (Rats squeak.) There is no use of our trying to visit, there is no pleasure in anything. (Rats squeak.) I might as

(Continued on page 128)

An Appreciation of Our Flag

W

Bess Dixon

E read much about art and music appreciation, but did it ever occur to you that an appreciation of our flag could do much in molding the life of a child? This appreciation is not brought about by a code of "you musts" and "you must nots," but by bits of history which will arouse this appreciation in the child. Read or tell this story to the children and note the effect it has upon them at that time and in the succeeding days,

Years and years ago, when the United States was just a baby country, George Washington, our first president, wanted it to have a flag. He knew what he wanted this flag to look like, but he could not sew. Betsey Ross lived in Philadelphia. George Washington heard she could sew very neatly, so he decided to ask her to help make a flag. He told her how he wanted the flag made, but materials were scarce in those days. Of what could they make the flag?

You could never guess of what the red stripes were made. They were made of an old red flannel petticoat which belonged to Betsey Ross. But where did they get the white goods to make the white stripes and the stars? Robert Morris, a friend of George Washington's, gave a white shirt so that the white stripes and the stars could be made. Where could they get the blue to make the blue field? George Washington gave his blue army coat. That blue field looks like the sky and that is the way Betsey Ross wished it to look.

George Washington had told Betsey Ross to make a six-pointed star, but she said, "The stars in the sky have but five points. Let us make these stars five-pointed, too." George Washington liked this idea and the five-pointed

stars were made.

Count the stars in the blue field. How many are there? Do you know why there are forty-eight stars? It is because there are forty-eight states in the United States now. At first, there were only thirteen stars in the blue field, and they were put in a circle. But when the United States grew to be a big country, more states were added. So the stars were put in rows. How many rows of stars are there now? How many stars are there in each row?

Now, count the stripes. Yes, there are just thirteen. They stand for the thirteen colonies which were in the country before we had any states at all. Oh, those thirteen. stripes mean so much to us! If those people in the thirteen colonies had not been willing to go without all the things we now enjoy, the United States would never have been such a great nation to-day. Many times those people were hungry and cold. Mary of Plymouth tells us that little. children were often so hungry that they chewed the leaves of the checkerberry bush to keep them from feeling the hunger.

How proud we are of those thirteen stripes! What do you suppose those colors in the flag mean? Why did Washingtor. choose red, white and blue? Do you know what those colors whisper to you? "Be brave," says red. "Be true," say s blue. "Be pure," says white. Do you not think the colors whispered to our big Yanks? Did they not go across the ocean because they wanted the world to be pure? Were they not brave men, true to the flag?

And now, that the war is over, if the big Yanks and the little Yanks will listen to those colors whispering, will not this be a wonderful country? None of Uncle Sam's children can do wrong if they listen to the whispers of the colors in our flag. It is no wonder that the men and the boys take off their hats when the flag goes by

Activities for the Language Period

Ida E. Roger

Grade Supervisor, Mt. Vernon, N. Y.

A PANTOMIME PLAY

(As a preparation for spoken dramatization) Differentiation of actions should be stressed to represent the various emotions and feelings which the child should later show in subsequent types of lively dramatizations. The teacher herself should first portray varying moods of animals and human characters, and encourage the pupils to guess the solution of this puzzle which she presents to them. Later individual pupils should interpret other characters and moods, following out their own (not teacher's) suggestions. Both individual and group action should be drawn out. The degree of the teacher's own ingenuity will be a probable measure of the enthusiasm of the class.

Act so as to portray the picture of a lazy dog, the cross dog, the dog chasing butterflies, the hungry dog, the hungry cat, the sleepy cat, the watch dog, the pet pony, the run-away horse, the angry waves, the swaying trees,

etc.

It will be noted that the last mentioned give opportunity for group action.

Add to list suggested.

The guessing game will result from actor asking, "What sort of a cat am I?" "What kind of a horse am I?" Etc.

Reading lesson to be printed upon board as a preparation for use of dramatic readingb ooks. The children should be shown that the names of characters are secret words which are not read aloud but merely whisper which character in the play is to speak.

Word drill should precede story reading if there should be a few words apt to present difficulty

CHARACTERS

FIDO, GRANDMother, Kitty, MAX, TEACHER

I

Fido Where, oh where, is the little boy who owns me? Grandmother I think he has gone to school. Max, are you gone?

Fido Bow-wow-wow! Where are you, Max?
Grandmother Go find Max, Fido! Go to school!

Fido Bow-wow! I'm off to find Max! He is a fine boy! How glad he will be to see me! Bow-wow-wow! Kitty Why is that black dog running so? Does he see me?

Fido Hurrah! hurrah! This is a fine path! I see why Max likes to walk to school! I wonder what he does there? What does he carry books for?

Kitty I'm so thankful that dog has gone by! Fido This must be the path, for I scent Max! That must be his school! Hurrah! I shall run in and shout Bow-wow!

II

"Please play it again," is a request which every teacher is grateful to be asked, because it is an indication of genuine enjoyment on the part of the children. Whenever "The Phonic-Picture Game" is played by my pupils, most of them ask to have it repeated. It promotes quick thinking, competition and real enthusiasm. The game is made and played as follows:

Select a great number of attractive pictures to paste on 6 x 9 sheets of heavy paper, one picture for each sheet. On the other side of the paper print and write the name of the object represented, or the verb suggested by the picture pasted on that particular card; for example, "horse" if the picture be that of a horse, or "run" if the picture be that of the act of running.

The game is played by showing to the class the cards, one by one. Only the side with the words upon it must be seen by the children until the word has been named by some one. The child who solves the word first is given the card and he is delighted to show the other pupils the picture on the other side of the paper. The game proceeds rapidly until all the cards have been named. Naturally, the pupil who has earned the greatest number of picture cards wins the game.

This game is a real test of the children's mastery of phonics. It is desirable to select many pictures, the names of which contain family words, as, ook, ight, at, all, ar, etc.

The phonic game described above often becomes an phonic classes. I sincerely hope that it may be as great a incentive for better work and greater effort in the daily help to other teachers as it has been to me.

A Favorite Letter Game

E. C.

Children always enjoy a game of hide-and-seek, especially when accompanied by the time-honored jingle of

"Little pigs, come to supper,

Find me out the bread and butter."

This fact, then, may be turned to good account when the study of phonics begins to get rather dry. Make small letter cards about two inches square. Mark the capitals on one side and the small letters on the reverse. Four or six copies of each letter should be made. Use the following plan for the study of a new letter:

First tell a story about the letter and its sound. Illustrate it with pictures on the board. Dramatize, and let the children copy it with clay, chalk, or any other suitable material. Distribute hektographed copies to be colored. Heap the small square cards on the teacher's table and choose four children to find the letter from among these. Clap the one who discovers it first. When each have discovered one, let them pass slowly up and down the aisles, showing their card, while class repeat the name and sound of the letter. They may then choose four more children, who should be sent from the room while the four letters are hidden. Let the door be opened while the class repeat "Little Pigs" - always with great gusto! and the search may then begin. The lookers-on generally enjoy giving a hint of their nearness to the finders by using the words "Hot" or "Cold." When all are discovered they are again taken round the class while the latter repeat the name and sound. Four more children are again chosen and the game recommences.

This device might, of course, be used for the memorizing of words, figures, tables, etc. The cards should not be hidden in very difficult places, as the game is, after all, a means to an end, and it is necessary to concentrate the energy and time chiefly on the learning of the letter.

Battle of Words

After teaching the spelling of a number of supplementary words related to a language topic, for a review of these we sometimes play the lesson which we call a "Battle of Words."

It is played in this way:

Children choose two pupils, whom we call the generals. They stand down aisles on each side of room and facing blackboards, on which the words are to be written.

General A's name is written on the blackboard under which is written the number of soldiers he has. General B's name and number of soldiers are written on the other blackboard.

General A chooses one he thinks is best speller in class. General B chooses one, and so on until all pupils are chosen. Now the two armies are lined up for battle.

General A steps to his board and writes any one of the words he chooses, which have been previously taught. Then he hands crayon to his first soldier and takes his stand at opposite end of his line.

General B now writes any word on the board, facing his