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All About Johnnie Jones
Johnnie Jones]
_All About_ JOHNNIE JONES
BY
Carolyn Verhoeff
ILLUSTRATED BY
Diantha W. Horne
SEVENTH EDITION
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_Published by_ Milton Bradley Company SPRINGFIELD :: MASSACHUSETTS
Copyright, 1907, by MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
In Loving Memory _of_ _The_ Beautiful Life _of One_ Little Child =Meldrum Adams Hartwell= (1891-1896) These Stories are Dedicated _to_ All Little Children
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These stories have been written with but one object, to give pleasure to little children, while helping them to realize, in so far as they are able, the highest ideals of childhood.
CAROLYN VERHOEFF
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INTRODUCTION
It gives me sincere pleasure to introduce to mothers and kindergartnersa pioneer writer in the unexplored field of simple, realistic storiesfor little children.
Miss Verhoeff is a trained kindergartner who has brought to herprofession a college training as well as a true devotion to children.
It was in one of the free kindergartens situated in the less fortunatelocalities of Louisville that the stories of Johnnie Jones came intobeing, and grew in response to the demand of the little ones forstories about real children.
In the beautiful world of fairy-lore we have a rich and splendidlyexploited field of immortal literature. The old, old stories offairies and elves, of giants and dwarfs, of genii, princes, and knightswith their wonder-working wands, rings and swords, will never growthreadbare; while the spiritual, artistic and literary value of thesestories in the life of child-imagination can never be overestimated.Enchanting and valuable as they are, however, they should not blind usto the need for standard realistic stories of equal literary and poeticmerit.
A child needs not only the touch of the wonder-working wand whichtransports him to a land of fascinating unrealities, but also theartistic story which reflects the every-day experiences of real life;artistic in that it touches these daily experiences with an idealismrevealing the significance and beauty of that which the jaded taste ofthe adult designates as "commonplace." That all children crave the storywhich is, or might be, true is evidenced by the expression of theirfaces when their inevitable question, "is it really true?" or "did itreally happen?" is answered in the affirmative.
Perhaps some of us can recall the pleasure derived from old-fashionedschool readers of an earlier day. With all their faults they at leastdid not overlook the value of standard realistic stories. In thesereaders was found the very moral story of the boy who won the daybecause of his forethought in providing an extra piece of whipcord.There was also "Meddlesome Matty," and the honest office-boy, the heroiclad of Holland, and the story of the newly liberated prisoner who boughta cage full of captive birds and set them free. These and many othersstill persist in memory, and point with unerring aim to standards ofhuman behavior under conditions which are both possible and probable.In spite of their imperfections and stern morality these stories werevaluable because they recited the fundamental events of human and animalexistence, in relations which revealed the inevitable law of cause andeffect, and the ethical and poetic significance of man's relation toall life.
As soon as children begin to realize the distinction between theworld of make-believe and the world of actuality, or, as one small boyexpressed it, "what I can see with my eyes shut, and what I can see whenI open them," they are fascinated with stories of real life, of "whenFather was a little boy," or "when Mother was a little girl," or "whenyou were a tiny baby." This demand of the child for realistic storiesis the expression of a real want which should be satisfied with goodliterature.
Before children are enabled by their experience to discriminate betweenthe imaginary and the actual world, they make no distinction between thestory of real life and the fairy tale. During this early period a storyrelating the most ordinary events of every-day life is accepted in thesame spirit, and may provoke as much or as little wonder, as the storydealing with the most marvelous happenings of the supernatural world.For to the child at this stage of development it is no more wonderfulthat trees and animals should converse in the language of men than thata little boy should do so. Until children learn that, as a matter offact, plants and animals do not participate in all of the humanactivities, they regard as perfectly natural stories in which suchparticipation is taken for granted. On the other hand a realistic storyrepresenting some of the most universal aspects of human existence mayprovoke surprise as the child discovers that his own experiences arecommon to many other lives and homes. This was evidenced by the remarkof a small boy who, at the end of a story relating the necessarysequence of activities common to the countless thousands of heroicmothers, washing and ironing the family linen, waggishly shook hisfinger at the narrator, and with a beaming smile, said: "Now you knowthat it is _my_ Ma and Tootsie you are telling about!" John had notdiscovered the fact that the story which reflected the daily service ofhis beloved mother reflected equally well the service of thousands ofother mothers. He saw only the personal experience in the common realityand recognized it with joy. When through similar stories of daily life achild learns to know that his experiences constitute the common lot, hisfirst feeling of surprise gives place to a greater joy, and sympathy isborn.
The stories of Johnnie Jones were not premeditated but grew in responseto daily requests for "more about Johnnie Jones." They are the record ofa most ordinary little boy, good as can be to-day, forgetting to obeyto-morrow; a life history in which many other little lives are reflectedin the old, old process of helping the child to adapt himself to thestandards of society.
The ideal has been to deal with the ordinary events of daily life in amanner which will reveal their normal values to the child. There is thefriendly policeman who finds the lost boy; the heroic fireman who comesto the rescue of the burning home; the little neighbor who would notplay "fair;" the little boy who had to learn to roll his hoop, and tocare for the typical baby brother who pulled his hair; there are theanimals who entered into the joys and sorrows of the Jonesfamily,--altogether, very real animals, children, and "grown-ups,"learning in common the lessons of social life.
The moral throughout is very pointed, and may be considered too obviousby many kindergartners, who do not feel the need of such insistence intheir work. Mothers, however, with normal four-year-old boys who arelikely to follow the music down the street and get lost, or who areequally liable to fall in the pond because they forget to obey Father,will find a strange necessity for pointing the moral in no uncertaintone.
The stories are so arranged that they may be read singly or as a serial.
I am sure the author will feel more than repaid if this littlecollection paves the way for more and better standard stories ofreality, that our little children may not only revel in the events of adelightfully impossible world, but may also feel the thrill of heroismand poetry bound up in the common service of mother and father, ofservants and neighbors, and find the threads of gold which may be woveninto the warp and woof of daily intercourse wi
th other little childrenwho possess a common stock of privileges and duties, joys and sorrows.
PATTY SMITH HILL.
Louisville, Kentucky.
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CONTENTS
Page
Johnnie Jones and the Cookie 21
When Johnnie Jones Was Lost 26
Mother's Story of the Princess and Her Pigeon 33
Johnnie Jones and the Squirrel 43
Johnnie Jones and the Peach Preserves 49
How the Children Helped Tom and Sarah 56
Johnnie Jones's Story of the Stars 63
Johnnie Jones and Jack 67
Stiggins 82
When Johnnie Jones Was a Santa Claus 87
An Original Valentine 97
When Johnnie Jones Was a Cry-Baby 105
Johnnie Jones and the Man Who Cried "Wolf" Too Often 113
Johnnie Jones's Birthday Party 119
Mother's Story of the Spring: The Sleeping Beauty 127
Johnnie Jones and the Butterfly 134
Mr. and Mrs. Bird and the Baby Birds 142
The Coming of Little Brother 151
Little Brother and Johnnie Jones 156
Elizabeth With the Children 161
Johnnie Jones and the Hoop-Rolling Club 168
The Fire at Johnnie Jones's House 175
Johnnie Jones and Fanny 182
Fanny and Little Brother 188
When Johnnie Jones Learned to Swim 193
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INDEX OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Johnnie Jones
Max wagged his tail and began to trot home--
Such a merry time as the children had!
Each child came up and shook Jack's paw--
When he spread his wings and flew away--
Then Johnnie Jones was the proudest, happiest little boy--
The little brown pony would eat out of their hands
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Johnnie Jones and the Cookie
One day, when Johnnie Jones was a wee little boy, only three years old,Mother came home from down town. Johnnie Jones ran to meet her. "Motherdear, didn't you bring me something?" he asked.
"Yes, indeed," answered Mother, and she gave him something tied up in apaper bag. "Be careful," she told him, "or it will break."
So Johnnie Jones was careful as he untied the string and opened the bag.When he saw what was inside he was glad he had not broken it, for it wasa round yellow cookie with a hole in the centre.
"Thank you, Mother," said Johnnie Jones, and he rolled on his back andkicked up his heels, which meant that he was happy. Then he sat up andbegan to eat his cookie. It was very good, and tasted as if it hadmolasses in it, Johnnie Jones said. But by and by, after he had beentaking a great many bites, there wasn't any of the cookie left in hishand, because he had eaten it, every bit. Johnnie Jones looked at hishand where the cookie had been, and then he began to cry.
"Oh, dear me," exclaimed Mother, "what is troubling my little boy?"
"I want my cookie," cried Johnnie Jones.
"Where is your cookie?" asked Mother.
"I ate it," said Johnnie Jones.
"If you have eaten it, then it is all gone," Mother told him.
"But I want it! I want my cookie!" wailed Johnnie Jones.
"To-morrow I'll buy you another just like it," Mother promised.
"I don't want another just like it, I want my own cookie with a hole inthe middle," and the tears came faster and faster.
"But, little boy," Mother said, "nobody in all the world, nor Father norMother nor Johnnie Jones, can eat a cookie and yet have it."
Johnnie Jones continued to cry, so Mother brought him some brown paper,a pair of scissors, and a pencil.
"See here, dear," she said, "I can't give you the cookie you ate, butyou may make a picture that will look very much like it."
Then Johnnie Jones ceased crying, and Mother showed him how to fold andcut the paper until it was like the cookie, with a hole in the centre.They pasted it on cardboard and placed it upon the mantel.
"Thank you, Mother," said Johnnie Jones, "but I don't like it so well asmy real cookie because I can't eat it."
"If you could eat it," Mother answered, "it would soon be gone, so thepicture is better unless you are hungry."
And Johnnie Jones thought so too.
After that day he never again cried for a cookie when he had eaten it,nor for a toy when he had destroyed it, because he had discovered thatcrying could never bring back what was gone.
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When Johnnie Jones Was Lost
Johnnie Jones was lost, completely lost. He looked up the street, helooked down the street, and then he looked across the street, but notone of the houses was his home. Johnnie Jones did not like being lost.He had not seen his mother for a very long time, not since she had lefthim in the yard at play after they had returned from market. He had beenswinging on the front gate, when, suddenly, he heard the sound of music,and saw several people running down the street.
"Everyone must have forgotten to tell me that there was a circus," hesaid to himself. "I think I had better go see."
Now Johnnie Jones was never allowed to leave the yard unless an olderperson was with him, but he did not think of that, as he opened the gateand ran out on the street to follow the gathering crowd.
When he reached the first corner everyone was hurrying on to the next,and Johnnie Jones hurried on, too. Of course, however, he could not runas fast as older people, and very soon he was passed by the crowd. Then,when he could no longer hear the music, he looked about him and knewthat he was lost.
He was sorry that he had gone away from home. He thought it must beabout lunch time and he was very hungry. Then he remembered that thiswas the day Mother had promised to take him to the park. He would havecried, had he not been a brave little lad, and had he not known that aboy almost four is too old to cry, unless he is actually hurt.
He sat down on the curbstone, and wished and wished that some one wouldcome to find him.
After a while he saw a policeman coming towards him from across thestreet. He was a very tall policeman, but Johnnie Jones decided to speakto him. His mother had often told him that policemen always take care ofpeople, and help them whenever they can. So he tipped his hat politely,and said, "Please, Mr. Policeman, will you find me? Because I'm lost."
The policeman smiled down at Johnnie Jones until Johnnie Jones smiled upat the policeman and forgot what a little boy he was. Then the officerlifted him up in his strong arms, and asked him his name. Johnnie Jonescould tell him his name, but he could not tell him which way he had comefrom home, so they decided to go to the nearest drug-store and find thenumber of the house.
The policeman began to tell him stories about his own little boy whosename was Johnnie Green, and Johnnie Jones was so interested that heforgot to be tired. Just before they reached the drug-store JohnnieJones heard a dog barking. He looked around, and there was the verydog that lived next door to him and played with him every day.
"Oh!" he said, "I know that dog! He is Max, and he can find the wayhome." "You'll take me home, won't you, Max?" he asked the dog, who wasso glad to see his little neighbor that he was trying his best to k
isshim on the face.
"All right," the big policeman said, "but I'll come too, so I shall knowwhere you live if you are ever lost again."
Max wagged his tail and began to trot home--]
Max wagged his tail and began to trot home. Johnnie Jones trotted afterMax, and the policeman after Johnnie Jones. It was not very long beforethey could see the house, and there was Mother standing at the gate,looking up the street, and down the street, and across the street, forher little boy. When she saw him she ran to meet him and clasped him inher arms.
"Mother dear," said Johnnie Jones, "I was lost, and the policeman foundme, and then Max found us both, and I shall never again go to see acircus by myself."
Mother told him that the band of music he had heard did not belong toa circus, but was the Citizen's Band on its way to the park, and that,since so much time had passed while Johnnie Jones was lost, it was toolate for him to go to the park that day. Of course the little boy wassorry to miss the treat, but he was very glad to be at home once more.
Mother shook hands with the policeman, and thanked him for being kindto her boy. As soon as he had gone, she and Johnnie Jones went intothe house for their lunch, and, afterwards, the little fellow was sotired that he fell asleep in Mother's lap and dreamed that he was atall policeman finding lost boys.
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Mother's Story of the Princess and Her Pigeon
"Mother," asked Johnnie Jones, "what is a carrier pigeon?"