The Child and Childhood in Folk-Thought by Alexander F. Chamberlain (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📕

of Baffin Land, Dr. Boas tells us that the children, “when about twelve years old, begin to help their parents; the girls sewing and preparing skins, the boys accompanying their fathers in hunting expeditions” (402. 566). Mr. Powers records that he has seen a Wailakki Indian boy of fourteen “run a rabbit to cover in ten minutes, split a stick fine at one end, thrust it down the hole, twist it into its scut, and pull it out alive” (519. 118).

Among the games and amusements of the Andamanese children, of whom he says “though not borrowed from aliens, their pastimes, in many instances, bear close resemblance to those in vogue among children in this and other lands; notably is this the case with regard to those known to us as blind-man’s buff, leap-frog, and hide-and-seek,”—Mr. Man enumerates the following: mock pig-hunting (played after dark); mock turtle-catching (played in the sea); going after the Evil Spirit of the Woods; swinging by means of long stout creepers; swimming-races (sometimes canoe-races); pushing their way with rapidity through the jungle; throwing objects upwards, or skimming through the air; playing at “duck-and-drakes”; shooting at moving objects; wrestling on the sand; hunting small crabs and fish and indulging in sham banquets, comparable to the “doll’s feast” with us; making miniature canoes and floating them about in the water (498. 165).

 

Education of Boys and Girls.

With the Dakota Indians, according to Mr. Riggs, the grandfather and grandmother are often the principal teachers of the child. Under the care of the father and grandfather the boy learns to shoot, hunt, and fish, is told tales of war and daring exploits, and “when he is fifteen or sixteen joins the first war-party and comes back with an eagle feather in his head, if he is not killed and scalped by the enemy.” Among the amusements he indulges in are foot-races, horse-racing, ball-playing, etc. Another branch of his education is thus described: “In the long winter evenings, while the fire burns brightly in the centre of the lodge, and the men are gathered in to smoke, he hears the folk-lore and legends of his people from the lips of the older men. He learns to sing the love-songs and the war-songs of the generations gone by. There is no new path for him to tread, but he follows in the old ways. He becomes a Dakota of the Dakota. His armour is consecrated by sacrifices and offerings and vows. He sacrifices and prays to the stone god, and learns to hold up the pipe to the so-called Great Spirit. He is killed and made alive again, and thus is initiated into the mysteries and promises of the Mystery Dance. He becomes a successful hunter and warrior, and what he does not know is not worth knowing for a Dakota. His education is finished. If he has not already done it, he can now demand the hand of one of the beautiful maidens of the village” (524.

209, 210).

 

Under the care and oversight of the mother and grandmother the girl is taught the elements of household economy, industrial art, and agriculture. Mr. Biggs thus outlines the early education of woman among these Indians: “She plays with her ‘made child,’ or doll, just as children in other lands do. Very soon she learns to take care of the baby; to watch over it in the lodge, or carry it on her back while the mother is away for wood or dressing buffalo-robes. Little girl as she is, she is sent to the brook or lake for water. She has her little work-bag with awl and sinew, and learns to make small moccasins as her mother makes large ones. Sometimes she goes with her mother to the wood and brings home her little bundle of sticks. When the camp moves, she has her small pack as her mother carries the large one, and this pack is sure to grow larger as her years increase. When the corn is planting, the little girl has her part to perform. If she cannot use the hoe yet, she can at least gather off the old corn-stalks. Then the garden is to be watched while the god-given maize is growing. And when the harvesting comes, the little girl is glad for the corn-roasting.” And so her young life runs on. She learns bead-work and ornamenting with porcupine quills, embroidering with ribbons, painting, and all the arts of personal adornment, which serve as attractions to the other sex. When she marries, her lot and her life (Mr. Riggs says) are hard, for woman is much less than man with these Dakotas (524. 210).

More details of girl-life among savage and primitive peoples are to be found in the pages of Professor Mason (113. 207-211). In America, the education varied from what the little girl could pick up at her mother’s side between her third and thirteenth years, to the more elaborate system of instruction in ancient Mexico, where, “annexed to the temples were large buildings used as seminaries for girls, a sort of aboriginal Wellesley or Vassar” (113 208).

 

Games and Plays.

In the multifarious games of children, echoes, imitations, re-renderings of the sober life of their elders and of their ancestors of the long ago, recur again and again. The numerous love games, which Mr. Newell (313. 39-62) and Miss Gomme (243) enumerate, such as “Knights of Spain,” “Three kings,” “Here comes a Duke aroving,” “Tread, tread the Green Grass,” “I’ll give to you a Paper of Pins,” “There she stands a lovely Creature,” “Green Grow the Rushes, O!” “The Widow with Daughters to marry,” “Philander’s March,” “Marriage,” etc., corresponding to many others all over the globe, evidence the social instincts of childhood as well as the imitative tendencies of youth.

Under “Playing at Work” (313. 80-92), Mr. Newell has classed a large number of children’s games and songs, some of which now find their representatives in the kindergarten, this education of the child by itself having been so modified as to form part of the infantile curriculum of study. Among such games are: “Threading the Needle,” “Draw a Bucket of Water,” “Here I Brew and here I Bake,” “Here we come gathering Nuts of May,” “When I was a Shoemaker,” “Do, do, pity my Case,” “As we go round the Mulberry Bush,” “Who’ll be the Binder?” “Oats, Pease, Beans, and Barley grows.” Mr. Newell includes in this category, also, that well-known dance, the “Virginia Reel,” which he interprets as an imitation of weaving, something akin to the “Hemp-dressers’ Dance,” of the time of George III., in England.

In a recent interesting and valuable essay, “Education by Plays and Games,” by Mr. G. E. Johnson, of Clark University,—an effort “to present somewhat more correctly than has been done before, the educational value of play, and to suggest some practical applications to the work of education in the grades above the kindergarten,”—we have presented to us a list of some five hundred games, classified according to their value for advancing mental or physical education, for cultivating and strengthening the various faculties of mind and body. These games have also been arranged by Mr. Johnson, into such classes and divisions as might be held to correspond to the needs and necessities of the pupils in each of the eight grades above the kindergarten. Of the educational value of play and of “playing at work,” there can be no doubt in the mind of any one at all acquainted with the history of the individual and the history of the race. As Mr. Johnson justly observes (269.100): “The field of the study of play is very wide; the plays are well-nigh infinite, and as varied as life itself. No one can estimate the value of them. Given right toys and surroundings, the young child has an almost perfect school. It is marvellous how well he learns, Preyer does not overestimate the facts when he says the child in the first three or four years of his life learns as much as the student in his entire university course. In the making of mud pies and doll dresses, sand-pile farms and miniature roads, tiny dams and water-wheels, whittled-out boats, sleds, dog-harnesses, and a thousand and one other things, the child receives an accumulation of facts, a skill of hand, a trueness of eye, a power of attention and quickness of perception; and in flying kites, catching trout, in pressing leaves and gathering stones, in collecting stamps, and eggs, and butterflies, a culture also, seldom appreciated by the parent or teacher.”

Upon the banner of the youthful hosts might well be inscribed in hoc ludo vincemus. Yet there is danger that the play-theory may be carried to excess. Mr. James L. Hughes, discussing “The Educational Value of Play and the Recent Play-Movement in Germany,” remarks: “The Germans had the philosophy of play, the English had an intuitive love of play, and love is a greater impelling force than philosophy. English young men never played in order to expand their lungs, to increase their circulation, to develop their muscles in power and agility, to improve their figures, to add grace to their bearing, to awaken and refine their intellectual powers, or to make them manly, courageous, and chivalrous. They played enthusiastically for the mere love of play, and all these, and other advantages resulted from their play” (265. 328).

Swimming is an art soon learned by the children of some primitive races. Mr. Man says of the Andaman Islanders: “With the exception of some of the ê·rem-tâg·a-(inlanders), a knowledge of the art of swimming is common to members of both sexes; the children even, learning almost as soon as they can run, speedily acquire great proficiency”

(498. 47).

 

Language.

With some primitive peoples the ideas as to language-study are pretty much on a par with those prevalent in Europe at a date not so very remote from the present. Of the Káto Pomo Indians of California, Mr. Powers remarks: “Like the Kai Pomo, their northern neighbours, they forbid their squaws from studying languages—which is about the only accomplishment possible to them save dancing—principally, it is believed, in order to prevent them from gadding about and forming acquaintances in neighbouring valleys, for there is small virtue among the unmarried of either sex. But the men pay considerable attention to linguistic studies, and there is seldom one who cannot speak most of the Pomo dialects within a day’s journey of his ancestral valley. The chiefs, especially, devote no little care to the training of their sons as polyglot diplomatists; and Robert White affirms that they frequently send them to reside several months with the chiefs of contiguous valleys to acquire the dialects there in vogue” (519. 150).

Nevertheless, as Professor Mason observes, among primitive races, woman’s share in the “invention, dissemination, conservation, and metamorphosis of language” has been very great, and she has been par excellence the teacher of language, as indeed she is to-day in our schools when expression and savoir faire in speech, rather than deep philological learning and dry grammatical analysis, have been the object of instruction.

 

Geography.

Much has been said and written about the wonderful knowledge of geography and topography possessed by the Indian of America, and by other primitive peoples as well. The following passage from Mr. Powers’ account of the natives of California serves to explain some of this

(519. 109):—

 

“Besides the coyote-stories with which gifted squaws amuse their children, and which are common throughout this region, there prevails among the Mattoal a custom which might almost be dignified with the name of geographical study. In the first place, it is necessary to premise that the boundaries of all the tribes on Humboldt Bay, Eel River, Van Dusen’s Fork, and in fact everywhere, are marked with the greatest precision, being defined by certain creeks, cañons, bowlders, conspicuous