The Shouts of Children 57 



was* crying as though her heart were broken. 

 And then a boy's eyes grew dim. Who can 

 weigh the value of such incidents in the shap- 

 ing of a human soul? How many brass 

 bands, monkeys and hand organs would it 

 take to compensate for their loss? 



When the children are tired of the land, 

 the sea calls. 



We have a beautifully curved sand beach 

 on the lawn that invites for a bath, and row- 

 boat and sailboat are always nodding their 

 friendly challenge tethered to their pier. 

 Somebody is always fishing in sight, and the 

 crabs in the water's edge are a standing chal- 

 lenge. The horses and mules, colts and 

 puppies, cows and calves are far more inter- 

 esting to our children in their daily life than 

 the wild animals of a circus. Daily life is a 

 continuous performance in which the child 

 is both audience and ringmaster. 



My riding mare's last year's colt I gave to 

 my little girl. When she went to boarding 



