4. "Phillips Brooks' Books," A Dutch Boy Fifty Years After, 43-52.

5. Adventures in Music," ibid., 160-167.

6. "Visit to the World's Fair," The Story of My Life, 73-77.

7. "The Joy of Books," ibid., 104-118.

8. "Dogs That Climb Trees," Letters to His Children, 23–24.

9. "Sports for Children," ibid., 50-53.

10. "The Proper Place for Sports," ibid., 60–61.

II. "The Lure of Camping," Compton's Pictured Encyclopedia, 2: 594

599.

12. "The World's Book of Books," ibid., 1: 387–393.

13. "Sports and Games," ibid., 2: iii, 3: ii, 4: ii, 6: ii, 7: ii.

14. Greyfriars Bobby," ibid., 2: 1024.

15. "Camp," World Book, 2:1082-1085.

16. "The Story of Moving Pictures," ibid., 5: 3984-3992. 17. "The Story of Games and Play," ibid., 3: 2373-2378.

18. "The Story of Dancing," ibid., 3: 1696-1697.

19. "Moving Pictures," Book of Knowledge, 16: 5083-5091.

20. "A Talk About Pictures," ibid., 15: 4585-4594.

21. "Magic of Poetry," Compton's Pictured Encyclopedia, 7:2850

2851.

22. "Where People of Two Nations Go to Play," ibid., 7: 2399-2403. 23. "The Story-Teller and His Magic Carpet," ibid., 6:2539-2542. 24. "Reading," ibid., 7: 2981.

25. "The Place of Play in the Work of Life," ibid., 7: 2832-2838. 26. "Polo, or 'Playing Hockey on Horseback'," ibid., 7: 2873. 27. "Pastimes on King Winter's Playgrounds, ibid., 9:3753-3756. 28. "Wordsworth, the Poet of Nature and the Simple Life," ibid.,

9:3788.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wander'd lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils,

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company:

I gazed and gazed- but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

2. THE SATISFACTION OF WORK

CHARLES WILLIAM ELIOT

Read very slowly and thoughtfully. Try to find the four main parts into which Mr. Eliot divides his thought.

Everybody knows some form of activity which gives him satisfaction. Perhaps it is riding on a horse, or rowing a boat, or tramping all day through woods or along beaches with a gun on the shoulder, or climbing a mountain, or massing into a ball a paste of sticky iron in a puddling furnace, or wrestling with the handles of a plunging, staggering plough, or tugging at a boat's tiller when the breeze is fresh, or getting in hay before the shower.

There is real pleasure in bodily exertion, particularly with companionship of men or animals, and competition. There is pleasure in the exertion even when it is pushed to the point of fatigue, as many a sportsman knows, and this pleasure is, in good measure, independent of the gaining of any practical end. There is pleasure in mere struggle, so it be not hopeless, and in overcoming resistance, obstacles, and hardships.

When to the pleasure of exertion is added the satisfaction of producing a new value, and the further satisfaction of earning a livelihood through that new value, we have the conditions that give pleasure in productive labor. Every working man who is worth his salt, I care not whether he works with his hands and brains, or with his brains alone, takes satisfaction first in the working; secondly, in the product of his work; and thirdly, in what that product yields to him. The

carpenter who takes no pleasure in the mantel he has made, the farm laborer who does not care for the crops he has cultivated, the weaver who takes no pride in the cloth he has woven, the engineer who takes no interest in the working of the engine he directs, is not a good workman.

It is an objection to many forms of working with the mind that their product is often hard to see. The fruit of mental labor is often remote. It can not be measured. On the other hand, mental labor is more enjoyable than manual labor in the process. The essence of the joy lies in the doing, rather than in the result of the doing. There is a lifelong and solid satisfaction in any productive labor, manual or mental, which is not pushed beyond the limit of strength.

The difference between the various occupations of man in respect to yielding this satisfaction is much less than people suppose; for occupations become habitual in time, and the daily work of every calling becomes so familiar that it may fairly be called monotonous. My occupation, for instance, offers, I believe, more variety than that of most professional men; yet I should say that nine-tenths of my work, from day to day, is routine work, presenting to me no more novelty or fresh interest than the work of a carpenter or blacksmith who is always making new things on old types presents to him.

The Oriental, hot climate idea that labor is a curse is disproved by the experience of all progressive nations. The Teutonic stock owes everything that is great and inspiring in its destiny to its faculty of overcoming difficulties by hard work, and of taking heartfelt satisfaction in this victorious work. It is not the dawdlers and triflers who find life worth living; it is the steady, strenuous, robust workers.

Once, when I was talking with Doctor Oliver Wendell Holmes about the best pleasures in life, he mentioned, as one of the most precious, frequent contact with quick and wellstored minds in large variety; he valued highly the challenge which keen minds gave to his own. We were thinking of

contact in conversation; but this pleasure, if only to be procured by personal meetings, would obviously be within the reach, as a rule, of only a very limited number of persons. Fortunately for us, the cheap printing-press has put within easy reach of every man who can read all the best minds both of the past and the present. For one-tenth part of a year's wages a young mechanic can buy, before he marries, a library of famous books which, if he masters them, will make him a well-read man. For half a day's wages a clerk can provide himself with a weekly paper which will keep him informed for a year on all important current events. Public libraries, circulating libraries, school libraries, and book clubs nowadays bring much reading to the door of every household and every solitary creature who wants to read

This is a new privilege for the mass of mankind; and it is an inexhaustible source of growth. It seems as if this new privilege of reading must alter the whole aspect of society in a few generations. Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers. With his daily work and his books, many a man, whom the world thought forlorn, has found life worth living.

It is a mistake to suppose that a great deal of leisure is necessary for this happy reading of books. Ten minutes a day devoted affectionately to good books - indeed to one book of the first order, like the English Bible or Shakespeare, or two or three books of the second order, like Homer, Virgil, Milton, or Bacon will in thirty years make all the difference between a cultivated and an uncultivated man, between a man mentally rich and a man mentally poor.

CLASS ACTIVITIES

1. Make a class outline on the blackboard naming the four main divisions of Eliot's thought.

2. From what physical exertion do you get the most satisfaction? From what do you get the least?