BED-TIME STORIES FOR CHILDREN

New Zealand Listener, Volume 5, Issue 108, 18 July 1941, Page 8

BED-TIME STORIES FOR CHILDREN

(By

K.

S.

Y little boy wants me to tread him a story before he goes to sleep each night; but I have some difficulty in finding a suitable type of book. What do other parents do? We started when he was two or three years old by reading simple nursery rhymes and fortunately found a uniform series of little stories graduated from different years-The Pink Book for tiny tots, then The Green Book, The Yellow Book, and so on-which work out better than the mixed bag in the average book. From there we went onto the Christopher Robin stories by A. A. Milne. When We Were Very Young we found excellent for a small child of four or five, and Now We Are Six is even better for a year or two later. The little poems are amusing, and deal with simple incidents geared exactly to the comprehension of children’s minds. A New Zealand adult sees, of course, that they were written to fit Christopher Robin’s circumstances, but the child mothing odd in the reference to N es,

and nurses, and wearing gloves and so on. (Incidentally, it was a shock to me to read the other day in A. A. Milne’s latest book: " Dedicated to my son, C. R. Milne, a student at Oxford and shortly to be a sapper in the Royal Engineers.") * * E day recently Richard came home from school with his eyes wide open -the teacher had told them a jungle story and it was " bee-you-tiful" (he hasn’t found the word "corker" yet). "Could I have a jungle story to-night, please? I’m tired of that silly Christopher Robin." I looked through all the books on my shelves without finding anything suitable, until I remembered an old school prize of my own, Nat the Naturalist, by one George Manville Fenn. Across the years the story came back to me, about a boy who joined his uncle in a bird-collecting expedition to the South Sea Islands, where they lived in a sylvan glade with birds of paradise fluttering overhead, and they only had to climb a tree for coconuts. What I did not remember was the old-fashioned

flavour about it-how Nat was always blushing for shame, and calling everyone "Sir," and standing in amazement at things the modern child takes for gtanted. However, we read Richard a chapter each night, and he followed Nat’s long-drawn-out adventures with the savages with the closest of interest, although some of it was beyond him. * » % T first we found Bible stories almost impossible. The archaic language is a stumbling block, together with the fact that most stories are either ‘too short or too involved for our needs. So we purchased a Hurlbut’s Stories of the Bible, an American Bible slightly simplified, and divided into a series of dramatic stories suitable for children. Richard soon got to know and love many storiesDaniel in the Lions’ Den, David and Goliath, Little Eli in the Temple-but so many others I feel are too terrifying and even too sadistic for children. An uncle gave him a couple of little booklets, garishly illustrated, but we had to put them out of sight — the ancient dresses and scenes of bloody battles merely confused the poor child. Later, we were introduced to the modern Bible

stories for children, published by the Church of Scotland, the S.C.M. people, and others, which are entirely suitable. They are clear-cut stories (of love instead of hate), with good pictures, and told so simply that children can early read them for themselves. * * * WEEK or two ago we joined the junior branch of the local library, and now Richard goes along proudly every Saturday morning and changes his book. To be honest, it hasn’t yet worked out very satisfactorily. He chooses books of course, only by their illustrations, as he can read: very little, and hence is likely to bring home a book with not much more to it than the illustrations. Then we got Winnie The Pooh, by A. A. Milne, and found it rather disap-» pointing. But I feel we are on the right lines. If this practice inculcates a lifelong love of reading, and acquaintance with the deep resources of a library, it is all to the good, and meantimé it does provide a cheap supply of suitable books. So now, every night, as Richard is tucked into bed, he says: "What chapter are we up to in our library book, Dad?"