come for their benefit, not to arrange an elaborate art entertainment for a cultured audience.
We began our program by fastening to the blackboard a large photograph of the Sower, and telling the familiar but ever new story of seed-time and harvest: how the sower carries in his bag the precious grain to feed many hungry folk; how the seed falls into the ground to soften and swell and push up a tiny shoot; how the blades grow into tall, strong stalks which bear the wheat-ears; how the grain ripens and is made into flour, and finally into fragrant loaves of bread. The sower’s task is far-reaching in its results, and he regards the planting season very seriously. The story made every boy in the room want to be a sower, and we called up a little fellow to the desk and posed him just below the picture. The rest of the children formed an expectant audience, looking from picture to poser to pronounce upon the merits of the reproduction. The small sower was given a half-tone print to examine carefully, and then he manfully stepped forth as if to his task. The teacher’s large shopping-bag was slung over his left arm and we taught him how to fling his right arm to and fro to scatter the seed, describing the are of a circle in the motion. After repeating this action several times, we arrested his arm at the proper point to imitate the gesture of the picture. We were well satisfied with his success, and if his tremulous smile was not quite like the solemn dignity of the Norman peasant, it was certainly pleasant to see.
Titian’s Lavinia now replaced the Sower on the
