Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial321dodg).pdf/391

Rh If you see the word “camel,” for instance, what arises in your mind? There is a difference in different minds. One sees a vague, half-finished blot with one—no, two—or is it one hump?—and a crooked neck, and any-old-kind of feet, and-—what kind of a tail has a camel, anyway?—I don’t know—let it go! Another paints for itself a ship of the desert, shaggy, cross-patient, pad-footed, tassel-tailed, droop-mouthed,—the whole creature comes into view in the “mind’s eye” as if in reality. It has color, motion, character—everything.

In reading the great poets, you will find they make you see images clearly, quickly, sharply. In reading poor writing, all is in a fog. The reader learns to be satisfied with partial images, and thus is apt to think confusedly or incompletely. Good writers do not leave one in doubt about questions of right or wrong, but make the reader know one from the other. Remember, then, that as we read we learn how to think.

writer has said: “It is the books read before we reach maturity that most influence the mind,” If he is right, “books for the young” should be these most carefully chosen. As one grows older the mind is less flexible; it is less easily moved, and more readily returns to its own attitude.

Being advised and preached to, and told to do this, that, and the other, is not pleasant, and reading—which should be among our greatest pleasures—ought not to be approached as if one were about to take medicine. But it will do no harm for young readers ta be very strict with themselves; that helps sensible pride instead of offending self-esteem. So won't boys and girls be careful how they give their best reading-years to books that will not give something in return?

If you will read weak and foolish books, at least remember to regard them as jesters in cap and bells, keeping your own poise and value despite all their gibes and caperings.

amazing how well a little child will make his way over a very rugged path if there is at his side one to assist him over the really impossible steps. In reading or in lessons, it is the privilege of the big brother or sister to act as guide, philosopher, and friend when the path is too steep for a younger climber. There is another reward besides the feeling of satisfaction; for in helping another we often learn more than in walking independently along the road.

Quick traveling is pleasant, but it is the slow traveler who sees the country.

is to be hoped that none of you need any introduction to delightful old Rip Van Winkle—not only as Joseph Jefferson has created him in the play by Dion Boucicault, but in the pages of Irving; and hardly less familiar should be the “Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” Yet it is to be feared that too many stop here, and miss the delights that are amid the pages of “The Alhambra,” “Wolfert’s Roost,” “Bracebridge Hall” —in almost any of Irving's sweetly flowing, clean, and bright stories. You will be glad also to know the life of the author, and cannot but become more fond of him as you know him better. Irving’s friendship with Sir Walter Scott, his unselfish devotion to his brothers and sisters, the touching romance of his early life—all may be read to our improvement.

Americans should cherish the writers of their own land, at least next to those grand geniuses who made all the world their country and all mankind their friends.

literary man of our time was a more discriminating book-lover than Lowell?

But why should we be eager for closer acquaintance with Catiline and Guy Fawkes?