the most part, Saxon.  No ponderous, Johnsonian expressions should drag their slow length through the recital, entangling in their folds the comprehension of the child; nor, on the other hand, need we confine ourselves to monosyllables, adopting the bald style of Primers and First Readers.  It is quite possible to talk simply and yet with grace and feeling, and we may be sure that children invariably appreciate poetry of expression.

The story should always be accompanied with gestures,—­simple, free, unstudied motions, descriptive, perhaps, of the sweep of the mother bird’s wings as she soars away from the nest, or the waving of the fir-tree’s branches as he sings to himself in the sunshine.  This universal language is understood at once by the children, and not only serves as an interpreter of words and ideas, but gives life and attraction to the exercise.

Illustrations, either impromptu or carefully prepared beforehand, are always hailed with delight by the children.  Nor need you hesitate to try your “’prentice hand” at this work.  Never mind if you “cannot draw.”  It must be a rude picture, indeed, which is not enjoyed by an audience of little people.  Their vivid imaginations will triumph over all difficulties, and enable them to see the ideal shining through the real.  It is well now and then, also, to have the children illustrate the story.  Their drawings, if executed quite without help, are, most interesting from a psychological standpoint, and will afford great delight to you, as well as to the little artists themselves.

The stories can also be illustrated with clay modeling, an idealized mud-pie-making very dear to children.  They soon become quite expert in moulding simple objects, and enjoy the work with all the capacity of their childish hearts.

Now and then encourage the little ones to repeat what they remember of the tale you have told, or to tell something new on the same theme.  If the story you have given has been within their range and on a familiar subject, a torrent of infantile reminiscence will immediately gush forth, and you will have a miniature “experience meeting.”  If you have been telling a dog story, for instance,—­“I hed a dog once’t,” cries Jimmy breathlessly, and is just about to tell some startling incident concerning him, when Nickey pipes up, “And so hed I, and the pound man tuk him;” and so on, all around the circle in the Free Kindergarten, each child palpitating with eagerness to give you his bit of personal experience.

Gather the little ones as near to you as possible when you are telling stories, the tiniest in your lap, the others cuddled at your knee.  This is easily managed in the nursery, but is more difficult with a large circle of children.  With the latter you can but seat yourself among the wee ones, confident that the interest of the story will hold the attention of the older children.