opportunity in development work. The book, in narrating a story, cannot set problems, or, if it does, it forthwith assumes the task of solving them. But in the oral development of a story the essential facts and conditions may be clearly presented and the solution of the difficulties, as in arithmetic, left largely to the ingenuity and reasoning power of the children. In the story of Hiawatha's boat-building the problem may be set to the children as to what materials he will use in the construction of the canoe, how the parts were put together, and how he might decorate it. Not that the children will give the whole solution, but they can contribute much to it. In "Robinson Crusoe" many such problems arise. How shall he conceal his cave and house from possible enemies? Where can he store his powder to keep it from the lightning and from dampness? In fact, nearly every step in Crusoe's interesting career is such a problem or difficulty to battle with. In Kingsley's "Greek Heroes" and other renderings of the Greek myths, the heroes are young men who have shrewdness, courage, and strength to overcome difficulties. To put these difficulties before children in such a way that they by their own thinking may anticipate, in part at least, the proper solutions, is one of the chief merits of development work. The story of Ulysses is a series of shrewd contrivances to master difficulties or to avoid misfortunes, so that his name has become a synonym for shrewdness. The story itself, therefore, furnishes prime opportunities to develop resourcefulness. How shall he escape from the enraged Polyphemos in the cave? His invention of the wooden horse before Troy; his escape from the sirens; his battle with the suitors and others. The story of Aladdin has such interesting inventions, and even the fairy tales and fables have many turns of shrewdness and device where the children's wits may be stimulated. The turning-points and centres of interest in all such stories are the true wrestling-grounds of thought. To put them point-blank before children in continuous narrative, without question or discussion, is not the way to produce thoughtfulness and inventive power. Merely reading or telling stories to children without comment is entertaining, but not educative in the better sense. Children will have plenty of chances at home and in the school library to read and hear stories, but it is the business of the school to teach them how to think as they read, to produce a habit of foreseeing, reviewing, comparing, and judging. The serious defect of much of young people's reading, from ten years on, is its superficial, transitory character. It lacks depth, strength, and permanency. It is not many stories that can be orally treated in this thorough-going way, but enough to give the right idea, and to cultivate habit and taste for more thoughtful study.

For skilled teachers, therefore, development lessons, within certain limits, constitute a most important phase of oral instruction. It has been sometimes assumed that a child acquires greater self-reliance and a stronger exercise in self-activity by learning his lesson by himself from a book. This is probably true in much of the arithmetic, where he works out the solution of problems unaided; but in history and literature the book work is chiefly memory work, and oftentimes becomes of such parrot-like character as to be almost destitute of higher educative qualities. It is advisable, therefore, to strengthen the educative value of story work by giving it, through oral instruction, this problem-solving character, this thought-stimulating, self-reliant attitude of mind.

7. When the teacher has shown his best skill in presenting and discussing a section of a story, it then devolves upon the children to show their knowledge and grasp of the subject by reproducing it. The task of getting this well done requires, perhaps, as much skill and force of character as all previous work of oral instruction. Obstacles are met with at once. It is dull work to go back over the same thing again, and the children soon get tired of it. They want something new and more exciting, and press for the rest of the story. Many children are at first deficient in power of attention and in language, so that their efforts at reproduction are clumsy and poor. The interest is weak, the attention of the children scattering, and the class is apt to go to pieces under the strain of such dull work. This is an emergency where a teacher needs both skill and force of character. (What a comfort it is to a writer to have such a platitude as this to fall back upon, when he gets a teacher into a place where nothing but his own devices can save him.)

There are, however, some hopeful considerations which may encourage a teacher whose feet are not already too deep in the bog of discouragement.

Children enjoy the retelling of good stories with which they are familiar. They will do it at home, even if they are not very proficient at it in school. In every class there are some talkative children who are always willing to make an effort. Again, it is not always difficult to interest boys and girls in doing a thing that requires skill and power, such as memory, attentiveness, and mastery of correct language. The force of the teacher's influence and authority is worth something in setting up high standards of proficiency. Indeed, children respect a teacher who makes rigorous demands upon them. The retelling of stories is, after all, no harder nor duller than the reciting of a lesson learned out of a book.

On the other hand, the whole effectiveness of oral work depends upon the success of these oral reproductions. If children know that the teacher is in earnest they will be more attentive, so as to be able to fulfil the requirement. Such a reproduction reveals at once a child's correct or incorrect grasp of the subject, and in either case the teacher knows what to do next. Errors and misconceptions can be corrected and such explanations or additional facts given as will clarify the subject.

In such reproductions it is praiseworthy to help the children as little as possible, to throw them back upon their own power as much as possible. If the teacher constantly relieves them with suggestive questions, they lean more and more upon her direction and lose all self-reliant power of continuous narrative. No, let the teacher keep a prudent silence, let her seal her lips, if necessary, in order to teach boys and girls to stand on their own power of thought.

Under this sort of discipline, kindly but rigorous, children will gradually acquire confidence in manner, variety and choice of language, in short, the ability to grasp clearly, hold firmly, and express accurately the ideas which are presented to them.

The whole purpose of this sort of instruction is not so much to see how skilfully a teacher can present a lesson (though that is a fine art) as to determine how well a boy or girl can master or express knowledge, can learn to think and speak for himself.

8. Some teachers despair of treating stories orally in large classes of primary children. The task of holding together such wriggling varieties of mental force and mental inertia is great. Some children are quick and excitable, others are unresponsive and dull. Some are timid and sensitive, others bold and demonstrative. Some are talkative and irrepressible, others silent or listless.

It is interesting to consider the function and value of a good child's story to fit in to such varying needs and personalities. If the purpose of the primary school is simply to keep children busy at some kind of orderly work, there are other tamer employments than stories. But if the idea is to put children's minds and bodies into healthy, vigorous