Sometimes a sad, homesick
feeling comes over me, when
I compare the prevailing style
of anecdote and school literature
with the old McGuffey brand,
so well known thirty years
ago. To-day our juvenile literature,
it seems to me, is so transparent,
so easy to understand, that
I am not surprised to learn
that the rising generation
shows signs of lawlessness.
Boys to-day do not use
the respectful language
and large, luxuriant words
that they did when Mr. McGuffey
used to stand around and
report their conversations
for his justly celebrated
school reader. It is disagreeable
to think of, but it is none
the less true, and for one
I think we should face the
facts.
I ask the careful student
of school literature to
compare the following selection,
which I have written myself
with great care, and arranged
with special reference to
the matter of choice and
difficult words, with the
flippant and commonplace
terms used in the average
school book of to-day.
One day as George Pillgarlic
was going to his tasks,
and while passing through
the wood, he spied a tall
man approaching in an opposite
direction along the highway.
"Ah!" thought
George, in a low, mellow
tone of voice, "whom
have we here?"
"Good morning, my
fine fellow," exclaimed
the stranger, pleasantly.
"Do you reside in this
locality?"
"Indeed I do,"
retorted George, cheerily,
doffing his cap. "In
yonder cottage, near the
glen, my widowed mother
and her thirteen children
dwell with me."
"And is your father
dead?" exclaimed the
man, with a rising inflection.
"Extremely so,"
murmured the lad, "and,
oh, sir, that is why my
poor mother is a widow."
"And how did your
papa die?" asked the
man, as he thoughtfully
stood on the other foot
a while.
"Alas! sir,"
said George, as a large
hot tear stole down his
pale cheek and fell with
a loud report on the warty
surface of his bare foot,
"he was lost at sea
in a bitter gale. The good
ship foundered two years
ago last Christmastide,
and father was foundered
at the same time. No one
knew of the loss of the
ship and that the crew was
drowned until the next spring,
and it was then too late."
"And what is your
age, my fine fellow?"
quoth the stranger.
"If I live till next
October," said the
boy, in a declamatory tone
of voice suitable for a
Second Reader, "I will
be seven years of age."
"And who provides
for your mother and her
large family of children?"
queried the man.
"Indeed, I do, sir,"
replied George, in a shrill
tone. "I toil, oh,
so hard, sir, for we are
very, very poor, and since
my elder sister, Ann, was
married and brought her
husband home to live with
us, I have to toil more
assiduously than heretofore."
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