THE STRAXD MAGAZ-1. XX. 
43 ^ 
middle.” Well, T must admit I am rather 
bald. And invariably signed, Your dear, 
darling Marjorie.’* 
She was required to write a poem descrip- 
tive of an Empire Day celebration, winch 
dragged on much longer than was expected, 
which she did in the following lines : 
Under Hags so bright and gay, 
Britannia sat on Saturday, 
People came from far away 
. (Two ahd-six they had to pay). 
The scene was very gay and 1 night: 
It lasted far into the night. 
On one occasion, at lunch, in the winter, 
Marjorie and her mother were seated near 
the fire, whilst 1 was the opposite side of the 
table and found it rather cold, and said so. 
I was told that I was in the wrong and that, 
if anything, the room was rather hot. I 
naturally replied that it was all very well, 
hut that I was cold, seated, as 1 was, far 
Irorn the fire ; whereat Marjorie at once re- 
marked: ‘‘Ah, well, daddy, you see the few 
must always suffer for the many.” 
Alas 1 , alas 1 time, keeps dying on, and the 
years are galloping past, and though, looking 
back, l\er life seems long to me, it is impos- 
sible: to think there was a time when there 
wasn’t a Marjorie, fifteen years ago, And 
though now she is one of the best of pals, 
with a keen interest in most of the things 
1 care for, yet it is a great loss when the 
babyhood years, when everything was a fairy 
tale, arc just memories lajd away in lavender. 
It seems so odd, and yet so exactly what 
1 would have, to see the changed interests, 
to wonder why. she is slicing her drive just 
now, .or why she has gone off her maslfie, 
refusing to believe it is because she is taking 
her ,eye off the ball. Or else which meet 
next week is the most likely to produce a 
run in the opejn in this woodland country, 
and the reasons for thinking Tuesday would 
be the best day. 
Of course, every age, I suppose, is good, 
still I must allow myself a sigh over the 
(jies acti which the scribbling of these pages 
has brought back so vividly. 
Her love for books has always been great, 
one of her favourite stories when very young 
being that of Rudyard Kipling’s “ Riki Tiki.” 
On one occasion when her nurse had the 
misfortune to smash some crockery, Marjorie 
waltzed round her with delight, shouting,. 
iL Great is Nanny with the white teeth,” 
in the words of that delightful tale. 
Often 1 think that of all the manifold! 
changes of modern times none is more remark- 
able than that in children’s books. Apart 
from the delightful story-books, the so-called 
improving books are better than the best 
of the ancient tales — “ Our Island Story/' 
for instance, giving a general view of English 
try in the manner of a story, so that 
nowadays a child really sees how one event led j 
to another, and gets an intelligent grasp of 
the whole, instead of learning it in water- 
tight compartments, with little or no sequence. 
And 1 am prepared to bet that the two prin- 
cipal events of early English history retained 
by the child of my period were the absolutely 
apoctyphal tales of how Canute got his feet 
wet. to the confusion of his courtiers, and how I 
Alfred burnt the cakes, to the annoyance 
of the ph-ie C'j ht's wife. 'Then, a gain, the 
series* ” Shakespeare Told to the C hildren,” 
With Iris pLa,yS told as tales in simple language, 
gives them a wonderful knowledge of the* 
plots and characters, leaving them to read 
and appreciate the language later. And then, 
thank goodness! the good boy and girl of 
the early Victorian stories, prigs of the deepest 
dye. who. with fair hair, blue eves, and half 
a lung, used to make beautiful improving 
remarks, which caused their parents to sigh 
and weep instead pi smacking them, have 
been wafted away to an early Victorian 
Heaven, to irritate real children no more. 
I am quite sure that the principal feeling 
of any parent, particularly the mot tier, who 
reads those pages will be. ' l What a very 
ordinary baby this Marjorie is, and what 
impudence to record its savings when my 
Tommy or Marv was so much more intelligent^ 
and said really clever things.” 
“ Madam,” I reply, “ 1 quite* agree with you, , 
and your remedy is obvious. Sit down at 
once and write them down, in far better 
language, I will guarantee, than I have done ; 
and if you Will honour me with a copy I will 
he the first to applaud. Remember, I never 
claimed the ownership pf an infant prodigy. 
Tliis is onlv just the record of the cvcrvday 
remarks of an ordinary everyday child.” 
