w facts with fresh vision, and reach conclusions with
simplicity, is the perennial power in the world. And this is the mind
we are not noticeably successful in developing, in our system of
schooling. Let us at least have its needs before our consciousness, in
our attempts to supplement the regular studies of school by such
side-activities as story-telling. Let us give the children a fair
proportion of stories which stimulate independent moral and practical
decisions.
And now for a brief return to our little black friend. "Epaminondas"
belongs to a very large, very ancient type of funny story: the tale in
which the jest depends wholly on an abnormal degree of stupidity on the
part of the hero. Every race which produces stories seems to have
found this theme a natural outlet for its childlike laughter. The
stupidity of Lazy Jack, of Big Claus, of the Good Man, of Clever Alice,
all have their counterparts in the folly of the small Epaminondas.
Evidently, such stories have served a purpose in the education of the
race. While the exaggeration of familiar attributes easily awakens
mirth in a simple mind, it does more: it teaches practical lessons of
wisdom and discretion. And possibly the lesson was the original cause
of the story.
Not long ago, I happened upon an instance of the teaching power of
these nonsense tales, so amusing and convincing that I cannot forbear
to share it. A primary teacher who heard me tell "Epaminondas" one
evening, told it to her pupils the next morning, with great effect. A
young teacher who was observing in the room at the time told me what
befell. She said the children laughed very heartily over the story, and
evidently liked it much. About an hour later, one of them was sent to
the board to do a little problem. It happened that the child made an
excessively foolish mistake, and did not notice it. As he glanced at
the teacher for the familiar smile of encouragement, she simply raised
her hands, and ejaculated "'For the law's sake!'"
It was sufficient. The child took the cue instantly. He looked
hastily at his work, broke into an irrepressible giggle, rubbed the
figures out, without a word, and began again. And the whole class
entered into the joke with the gusto of fellow-fools, for once wise.
It is safe to assume that the child in question will make fewer
needless mistakes for a long time because of the wholesome reminder of
his likeness with one who "ain't got the sense
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