capable of taking shall give to
him. Therefore artistic training should be given to every child. And
since poetry is the art that is most widely disseminated, the one most
practical in its service and cheapest to get hold of in places far
distant from picture galleries and concert halls, therefore there should
be in all the homes in the open, a great deal of poetry, in order to
satisfy the demand that is deeply imbedded in every human being for the
satisfaction of the love of beauty.

Here is indeed a great service for the daughter in the family to supply.
She is the poetic individual in the home circle. It will be readily
acknowledged as fitting that she should know poetry by heart. That she
should sing poetry feelingly and speak it effectively will be forgiven
by a business-hardened parent and a rough, deriding brother, more
readily than if any other member of the family circle should make the
attempt. And the persevering and enthusiastic girl will be repaid by
finding that the tight outer case of the father will after a time be
loosened and that he will be surprised to find himself enjoying what he
did not know he liked. She will be gratified again when the heroic
ballad, told to appeal to the brother who is in the chivalrous and
fighting era of boyhood, fulfils its mission not only by amusing him,
but by leading him up to the chivalric motives and to the conquest of
selfishness by the higher ideal of honor and devoir. If, too, she will
select for her evening reading volumes of the poets who are writing
to-day in her own country, writing out of today's life and mood and hope
and pain, she will be far more likely to find a sympathetic response in
her living audience, than if she chooses from the pages of any souls of
poets dead and gone, however classic.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In the Appendix to this book will be found a reference to a special
bibliography made as a guide to certain works of fiction that do
illustrate country and village life in various States.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE SERVICE OF MUSIC TO THE COUNTRYSIDE

HARMONIES

The scrubbing's done; my kitchen stands arrayed
In shining tins, and order reigns supreme.
And on the table, like a fairy dream,
A row of pies and cakes, all freshly made
And full of spicy odors, stands displayed;
While from the oven, like a rising stream
Of incense, comes a fragrance, warm, supreme ...
The bread, its final browning still delayed.
Now while I s