FOREWORD

The Author, in her work with young teachers, has frequently noted the great difficulty they seem to have in presenting hygienic facts to little children in a manner so attractive as to catch and hold their attention.

The child's mind dwells constantly in the realm of imagination; dry facts are too prosaic to enter this realm. The "Land of Story Books" is the most fascinating of all lands, and therefore the Author has endeavored to weave hygienic facts into stories that will appeal to the child's imagination. She believes the truths of hygienic living and habits in the stories will "creep up on the blind side," so to speak, and impress themselves upon the young mind.

The child can appreciate only those hygienic facts which can be applied in every-day living: he has no interest in health as an end in itself. Furthermore, that instruction in hygiene which is given as an end in itself, and which does not reach beyond the school-room in its influence, is a failure. Therefore, that instruction in hygiene which is in line with the child's interest is also the instruction which is most effective.

The effort throughout has been to make scientific truths simple and concrete, and so captivating that the young pupil will at once find interest in them. The early years of child-life are the most impressionable; it is, therefore, especially important that we stress during these years that which means more to the conservation of life than any other one thing, viz., hygiene.

Lessons of personal cleanliness, the necessity for good food, fresh air and exercise are the truths which are the underlying principles of these stories. With these as suggestions, the teacher may easily develop further.

The mother as well as the teacher will find them helpful as she gathers her little ones around her knee at the evening hour, in response to the request for "a story."

The questions following each story, a kind of catechism, supply more information than it was thought best to give in the story itself.

The illustrations have been prepared especially for this work and make the lessons of the story more impressive.

The Author desires to acknowledge her obligations to Mr. Charles Jerome for permission to use "The Sand Bed"; to the Woman's Christian Temperance Union for "The White Ship," and "Clovis, The Boy King," by Miss Christine Tinling. To Misses Marion Chafee and Bessie McCann, students of the Hygiene Department of the Mississippi Normal College for the "Hygiene Song" and "Little Fairies": also to Miss M. Larsen for "One Little Girl" and the poem, "Jack Frost"; to Mr. O. S. Hoffman for the poem, "The Five Best Doctors," to Messrs. Flanagan and Company, for permission to use the anonymous poem, "Merry Sunshine," and to Miss Virginia R. Grundy for "A Child's Calendar."

July, 1916.

CONTENTS

KEEP-WELL STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS

A WONDERFUL ENGINE

We all have seen a steam engine, have we not? There are engines that pull trains on the railroad, and there are engines that make factories, gins, and saw-mills work. Then there are engines that run great ships on the water. How many know what must be done to one of these engines before it can do all this work? "It must have coal, or wood, or gasoline put into it." That is right.

Now this coal or wood or gasoline, when it is used in an engine to make it work, is called fuel. Would we put rotten or green wood into the engine? No. We must always put in the kind of thing that will burn best, and make the most heat and do the most work.

Let us see how this wood or coal we call fuel makes the engine work. First, we must burn the fuel. Second, when the fuel burns, it heats the water in the boiler. Third, the water changes into steam, and this steam gives the engine the power to work.

Now we see how an engine is made to move and do work, such as hauling great trains of cars, and pulling great ships across the wide ocean. But we must remember that the engine will not do this work unless there is a man near-by to put the fuel into the engine.

I want to tell you of another engine that is very like the steam engine. It too must have fuel before it can run or work. It is unlike the steam engine in as much as it grows all the time, and it does not need to have an extra man to put the fuel into it. You must think of your body as an engine and remember that it needs fuel to run it. The fuel that makes the body-engine move and work is the food you eat.

You have learned that you must put into the steam engine the fuel that will burn best and make the most heat and work. The same thing is true of your body-engine. You must put in the fuel that will best make heat and the power to work. Have you sometimes eaten something which made you sick? It must have been that that was the wrong kind of fuel for the little body-engine. This is the reason our mothers are so very careful in preparing our food. They want the little engines to have the right kind of fuel so that they will not run off the track.

Now what fuel must you use in your body-engine? In the first place you must put in fuel that will make the engine grow so that it can do a great deal of work. This fuel you get when you eat lean meat, eggs, milk, and many other things.

If you want your engine to keep warm, you must use fuel that will make heat. You get this fuel by eating plenty of fats, such as nice butter and some sweet things. Potatoes, rice and syrup help to run your engine.

You need some fuel that will make you plump and round and healthy looking, so you must put into your engine fruits, nuts, a little candy, and a lot of vegetables. You need to eat things that have color, such as: tomatoes, lettuce, greens, and beets,—not because they look pretty, but because they have iron in them and help to make your engine strong.

You must remember that you eat food for three reasons: to make you grow, keep warm, and able to work. You must be careful that you do not eat too much of any one kind of food, but remember to eat a little of many kinds. Your engine can use only a little of each at one time.

Wood is chopped into short pieces, and coal is broken up before it will do good work in the engine, so the fuel must be prepared before it will suit your engine. It must be well cooked and then chewed thoroughly before it will do its best work in your body-engine. You should be careful not to swallow any food until it has been chewed as fine as it can be.

If you put into your engine the right amount of food, and the right kind of well-prepared food, you will have an engine more wonderful than any steam engine that ever pulled a train, or carried a big ship across the wide ocean.

The engineer sees that his engine is kept clean and bright, in order that it may run smoothly. Since you are the engineer of your body-engine, you must keep it neat and clean that it may work well.

TWO LITTLE PLANTS

Look at this lovely little plant with its pretty bright leaves and beautiful pink blossoms. Well may we ask what makes the little plant so healthy, strong, and pretty. It is a delight to the eye.

Now here is another little plant. It belongs to the same family. The same kind of seed was planted, and when its tiny leaves began to peep above the ground, it seemed to have as good a chance as its little sister plant. But the leaves are pale and drooping; they look sick. It has no pretty blossoms. Its stems are withered and weak; it can hardly hold its little leaves up. "Poor little sickly looking plant," its strong and rosy little sister seems to say.

Let us see if we can find a reason for the difference between the two plants. I do not believe that it will take us long to find the cause of the sickness, for it is sick just like a little child.

Mother Nature prepares a special food for all her children, food for the little plant children as well as for the little babies in our homes, and food for the little piggies and the frisky little calves out in the barn.

When mother feeds little baby brother she gives him nice warm, sweet milk, because that is the food that he needs to make him grow big and strong. Mother Nature knows that the little babies and the little calves and pigs need this fresh warm milk, so she prepares it all ready for them.

When we plant seed in the ground, the soft, warm dark earth furnishes food for the little seed, until its leaves and stems are above the ground. Its little roots run down into the moist, mellow soil and drink up the food Mother Nature has there for it. The warm sun shines down on the little plant and makes it green, and the pure air helps to make its stems strong and sturdy that it may hold its leaves and blossoms up for the passersby to enjoy.

What a beautiful sight it is as it seems to nod a morning greeting of cheer and good health.

Now the little plant with the pretty bright leaves and wonderful pink blossoms has had all the water and mellow soil and warm sunshine it needed to make it grow, from a tiny plant into the large handsome one we see.

The little sister plant with its sick, pale leaves and no blossoms has not been treated kindly. When it was just a baby plant it did not have enough water to drink. The soil in which it was planted was poor, and did not have enough food to feed the tiny baby plant. The poor little plant was shut away from the bright sunshine and the clean, fresh air. Now its leaves hang down as if it were saying, "I am so sick; give me some water to drink, give me some food to make my stems strong, give me some sunshine and fresh air to warm me and make the nice green color come into my leaves!"

We may give the little plant all that it asks for, and help it a great deal. In a few days the color will begin to come into its leaves and its stems will look stronger, but we doubt if the little neglected plant will ever become as strong as the little sister plant which has had all the good soil, water, air and sunshine that it needed when it was a baby plant.

Little boys and girls need things to make them strong just as the little plants do. They need simple, pure food to make strong bone and muscle, pure water to drink, and to bathe their bodies with; fresh air to breathe; and sunshine to give color to their cheeks and sparkle to their eyes. If the little folks do not have the things that Mother Nature intended for them, they will grow thin and twisted like the little sick plant. Their cheeks will grow pale and their eyes will look dull and heavy and lose their sparkle. They will not want to romp and play as all healthy children do. They will not want to go to school.

Little children who are ruddy and strong like the first little plant have mothers who see that they get all the food they need and plenty of pure water to drink; that they keep their bodies clean and play in the sunshine and breathe fresh air.

These little girls and boys are in all the games. They love to run and play. They will grow into strong men and women and be ready to do the work for which they were created.

If the little green plant is shut away in the dark, out of the sunshine and fresh air, it will soon droop and die. Children are human plants and need the same care and treatment that should be given other plants.

THE STORY OF A FLY

I was hatched one sunny day in May in the nicest, warmest, dirtiest spot you ever saw. It was in a barnyard heap, just outside a city, that I first saw the light. I was not very old before I had to take care of myself, so you may know I was glad that I had opened my eyes for the first time in such a dirty place, because it is much easier for a baby fly to take care of himself in a dirty place than in a clean one.

My good mother knew this when she flew away that May morning and left the tiny egg, from which I came, to Dame Nature to care for. Mother Fly knew that warmth, dirt, and moisture were all that a baby fly needed in its infant days. She knew that the dump-heap at the barn made the nicest kind of cradle for her baby, and it was rent-free to all the mother flies in the neighborhood.

Day by day, I grew and soon began to take notice of things around me. It was not long before I saw that some of the other baby flies which were in the dump-heap with me had grown some beautiful gauzy wings. On these wings they began making daily visits from our fly-nursery to a near-by farm-house. When they came back from these visits, they would talk long and loud about the good time they had, and the nice things they had to eat in the great world outside the dump-heap.

I was mighty glad that my wings were growing stronger each day. One morning, bright and early, I sailed away on my beautiful wings to see if all the wonderful things my little fly friends had told me were true. I followed the lead of my friends, and we soon came to that same farm-house. First, we went to a door—a screen they called it—and tried hard to get through. To our great disappointment, we could not get through; the screen was closed tight. One little fly said, "I will find a way in, I don't believe the folks who live here have been so careful with the kitchen door." So we flew away, and sure enough the kitchen screen door was standing ajar, with just enough of a crack in it for a busy little fly to slip through into the kitchen. I was next to the last one to get through; and, alas! when I did get in, you never saw such a disappointed little fly in your life. Everything looked very clean, too clean for me to enjoy it. Presently, one of my friends called to me and O joy! he had found some soiled dishes and bits of food on a table, just the thing for a tired, hungry little fly. The sugar bowl was uncovered, and, oh, how I did eat, for I dote on nice, sweet sugar.

The pantry door stood ajar, and I could see some nice things to eat in there also. After we had feasted on the good things in the kitchen, we flew into the dining-room. There on the table was a pitcher filled with milk. I jumped into the pitcher and took a nice bath and a good swim. I came out very much refreshed, for I had left there in the milk pitcher all the dirt I had gathered on my feet and body in my early life. I walked much better. I walked all over the food which was on the table and I also walked on the baby's bottle which was on a nearby shelf.

While I was thinking what I would do next, a lady came into the room. She had a dear little baby in her arms. You know how I love little babies. I love to tickle their noses and to lick the sweets from their juicy little mouths. I sat and watched the little fellow, awaiting my chance to make his acquaintance. Presently the lady gave the baby some milk to drink from the pitcher in which I had had such a nice bath. After the little fellow was fed, the lady put him to sleep and laid him in his crib in the next room for his morning nap. My friends told me to come with them into this room, the nursery. The lady had forgotten to put a net over the little fellow; so I crawled around and ate some sugar from his lips. It tasted so good that I crawled almost into his mouth.

Since that happy morning, I have spent almost every day between the farm-house and out-houses. I have my daily bath in the milk pitcher and my dinner from the nice juicy food on the table. Very often I get my lunch of sweets from the corners of the baby's mouth, and I like this best of all.

For several days I have felt lonely. I noticed that the baby did not come to the dining-room to get his milk and sugar. I kept wondering why he did not come, and finally I wandered into the nursery to see for myself. What do you think? The baby was lying in his crib all red and hot. While his mother was busy, I crawled on his mouth to see if there was any sugar in the corners for a lunch. Then away I flew.

This morning I flew over to the farm-house again, through the kitchen door, and into the nursery. I thought I would find a glass of milk and have a nice bath and my breakfast. But, alas! the baby was not in his crib. The room was so still and cold it frightened me and I flew out. I saw several strange men and women; the women were all crying and the men looked sad. A man was fastening something white on the front door. I tried to understand it all, but I could not catch any word except "Typhoid." I wonder what that means, anyhow? As no one will tell me, I must be off to the next farm-house to hunt a good dinner.

This was a sensible fly, do you not think so, children? Thousands of other flies might tell the same story if we would only watch their habits and listen to what they have to say.

SWAT THE FLY

THE STORY OF THE RAIN BARREL

O John! did you know that I almost fell on my head into the rain barrel at the corner of the house this morning? I was looking at the picture of myself in the water, when, all of a sudden, I saw the funniest little things darting everywhere in the water. I forgot to look at myself or to make any more faces at the broad face of the little boy at the bottom of the rain barrel. There were lots of these queer little things in the rain water. They were turning somersaults and standing on their heads every few minutes. Here is a picture of one. I tried to catch some in my hands, but they were too quick for me; they would just wiggle out of reach. This was why I nearly fell on my head.

I ran into the house to ask Mother about them. Mothers know a lot, don't they, John? At least, mine does. I just knew she could tell me all about these queer little things in the rain barrel. When I asked her to tell me, she put her sewing down and went to the rain barrel with me. As soon as she looked she said she was so glad that I had come for her, that she would tell me all about these little "wiggle-tails," and that I could help her destroy them, as they would do much harm if they grew up.

She said that they were the little baby mosquitoes. Isn't that funny? I did not know that mosquitoes lived in the water, even when they were babies, did you? I will tell you just what Mother said. She said that if I were near a pond or rain barrel, or even an old tin can, in which water was standing, early in the morning before the sun was up, I could hear Mrs. Mosquito come singing merrily to the water, and that if I watched and did not disturb her, I could see her rest lightly on the water and lay her eggs there in a little brown boat or raft-shaped mass, little eggs like these. The mosquito mother now thinks her duty to her children is done, for, after she lays her eggs on the water, she goes off singing, never thinking of them again.

If nothing disturbs it, the boat of eggs floats on the water a little longer than a day, when all of a sudden the shells of the eggs begin to break and the little "wiggle-tails" hatch, or come out of the shells. These funny little "wiggle-tails" go frisking about in the water. They dive here and there down into the water, hunting for something to eat. These are the baby mosquitoes. They are very queer looking, with their big heads and eyes and a funny little tube at the tail end of their bodies. They push this tube up out of the water to get air to breathe. I saw a number of them push these little tubes up to the top of the water, but, when I got close to them, down to the bottom of the barrel they would dive, head foremost, as if they were scared. They soon had to come up again for another breath of air.

Mother said that if no one disturbed them they would eat germs and all sorts of little water plants for about two weeks, growing all the time. At the end of that time, each one would curl himself into a cocoon, like a ball, called a pupa. After about four days of rest and growing in this cocoon, the case would break and out would come a thing with wings, a full-grown mosquito. It would stand on its case or cocoon, dry its wings in the sun, and then fly away to begin life as a mosquito.

Mother said she did not want to give the little "wiggle-tails" a chance to become mosquitoes, and that if I would bring her some oil from the kitchen pantry, she would show me how to kill the little "wiggle-tails." I ran for the oil, oil just like that your Mamma burns in her lamps. Mother poured a few spoonfuls in the rain barrel, and that was the end of Mr. Wiggle-tail. The oil kept the "wiggle-tails" from getting any air to breathe through their funny breathing tubes, and they smothered.

Mother says we must have a Mosquito Brigade and go about the place killing all the mosquitoes; that we must not let water stand in any tin cans or barrels; and that we must pour oil in the ditches and ponds where water stands and where the mosquitoes can lay eggs. The mosquito will not lay eggs on the dry land, for the "wiggle-tails" cannot take care of themselves on dry land, and the mosquito mothers know this.

It seems to me that Dame Nature, as Mother calls her, has taught many wonderful secrets to her children.

Mother told me why she wanted to kill all the "wiggle-tails." I will tell you about it to-morrow, if you will come to the grape-vine swing with me.

MALARIA

You remember, John, I told you about the "wiggle-tails," or baby mosquitoes, in the rain barrel, and how eager my mother was to put oil on the water and kill them.

Well, Mother told me a long story about the baby mosquitoes and what they do when they are grown up. She said that mosquitoes carry malaria, or chills, from one person to another.

Don't you remember when we had chills last summer and Uncle John had to come to see us and give us some medicine? Mother says that was because some grown mosquito had bitten a person who had chills, and while sucking that person's blood the mosquito had sucked into her bill some malaria poison; then later when she bit us, she punched some of that poison into our blood, while she was getting a supper from our blood. The mosquito's bill is as sharp as one of Uncle John's knives.

Mother told me that a long time ago, when the English came to Virginia, they settled at Jamestown, and they were afraid of the Indians, the bears, and the panthers that could hide in the forest near-by.

The English did not know it, but they had a more deadly enemy then at Jamestown than the Indians and the panthers. This enemy was so small they could not see it, and then, too, they had not learned about it as we are learning now. This enemy was the little germ or parasite that causes malaria.

Mother says that it is easy to fight an enemy when it is out in the open. The settlers knew only that many of their people got sick and died. This was because there were many mosquitoes there, and these mosquitoes bit them, and put these poisonous enemies into their blood. But they did not know that the mosquitoes were the cause of the great number of deaths in the colony.

All this happened many years ago. I believe the English thought their old enemy, the Dragon, of which they had heard so much, but which they could not see, had come to this new land.

We can know the mosquito that carries malaria because she looks as if she is trying to stand on her head when she lights on anything. It seems queer that the female mosquito is the only one which poisons us with malaria. Perhaps the male mosquito cannot bite, because he has so many feathery plumes on his bill.

The mosquito and the germ of malaria, which is carried from one person to another, killed far more white people than the Indians or the wild animals did.

Not many years ago, a very clever man found out that the mosquito carried malaria, for, without her, the germs could never get into our blood.

Mother says that the way for us to stop malaria is for us to kill all the mosquitoes, and the best way to kill them off is to do so when they are little "wiggle-tails" or "wigglers." She says the best way of all, though, is never to have any standing water around where the mosquito can lay her eggs.

I am going to kill every mosquito I see. Mother says I can tell the one that carries malaria, because she is always trying to stand on her head like this.

I'll tell you, let's have a "Mosquito and Fly Brigade." You can be the Captain. All the little boys and girls in our classes can march under our colors, and we will make war on every fly and mosquito in the neighborhood, and stop the children and grown people from having malaria. Mother says sickness costs a lot of money—many millions of dollars every year.

We will be little soldiers while all the country is at peace, but we will wage a battle royal against these very small but strong enemies, and we will win.

Our motto will be, "To prevent is better than to cure."