preciation
as enables him to discover and rejoice in such niceties of literary
expression. It widens the horizon of life to him and gives him a deeper
and closer sympathy with every form and manifestation of life. Every phase
of life makes an appeal to him, from bird on the wing to rushing
avalanche; from the blade of grass to the boundless plains; from the
prattle of the child to the word miracles of Shakespeare; from the stable
of Bethany to the Mount of Transfiguration.

Geography lends itself admirably to the development of appreciation if it
is well taught. Indeed, to develop appreciation seems to be the prime
function of geography, and the marvel is that it has not been so
proclaimed. In this field geography finds a clear justification, and the
superintendent who sets forth appreciation as the end and geography as the
means is certain to win the plaudits of many people who have long been
wondering why there is so much geography in the present course of study.
Certainly no appreciation can develop from the question and answer method,
for no spiritual quality can thrive under such deadening conditions. If
the questions emanated from the pupils, the situation would be improved,
but such is rarely the case. Teaching is, in reality, a transfusion of
spirit, and when this flow of spirit from teacher to pupil is unimpeded
teaching is at high tide. When the subject is artfully and artistically
developed the effect upon the child is much the same as that of unrolling
a great and beautiful picture. The Mississippi River can be taught as a
great drama, from its rise in Lake Itasca to its triumphal entry into the
Gulf. As it takes its way southward pine forests wave their salutes, then
wheat fields, then corn fields, and, later, cotton fields. Then its
tributaries may be seen coming upon the stage to help swell the mighty
sweep of progress toward the sea. When geography is taught as a drama,
appreciation is inevitable.

The resourceful teacher can find a thousand dramas in the books on
geography if she knows how to interpret the pages of the books, and with
these inspiring dramas she can lift her pupils to the very pinnacle of
appreciation. Such tales are as fascinating as fairy stories and have the
added charm of being true to the teachings of science. A raindrop seems a
common thing, but cast in dramatic form it becomes of rare charm. It
slides from the roof of the house and finds its way into the tiny rivulet,
then into t