The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (books to read to improve english .TXT) 📕

Now He Would Take Sixpence For The Copyright Of His Work.  I Gave Him

Sixpence,  And He Drew Out A Manuscript From An Inside Pocket Of His

Coat,  And Handed It To Me.  It Was Composed Of Small Sheets Of

Whitey-Brown Wrapping Paper Sewn Together.  He Had Ruled Lines On It,

And Had Written His Biography With Lead Pencil. On Looking Over It I

Observed That,  Although He Was Deficient In Some Of The Inferior

Qualifications Of A Great Historian,  Such As Spelling,  Grammar,  And A

Command Of Words Of Seven Syllables,  Yet He Had The True Instincts Of

A Faithful Chronicler.  He Had Carefully Recorded The Names Of All

The Eminent Bad Men He Had Met,  Of The Constable Who Had First

Arrested Him,  Of The Magistrate Who Had Committed Him For Trial,  Of

The Judge Who Had Sentenced Him,  Of The Gaolers And Warders Who Had

Kept Him In Prison,  Of The Captain,  Doctor,  And Officers Of The Ship

Which Conveyed Him To Sydney,  Of The Squatters Who Had Forced Him To

Work For Them,  And Of The Scourgers Who Had Scourged Him For Not

Working Enough.  The Names Of All These Celebrated Men,  Together With

The Wicked Deeds For Which They Were Admired,  Were Given In Detail,

After The True Historic Method.  We All Take A Great Interestin

Reading Every Particular Relating To The Lives Of Notorious Tyrants

And Great Sinners; We Like To Know What Clothes They Wore,  And How

They Swore.  But The Lives Of Great And Good Men And Women Are Very

Uninteresting; Some Young Ladies Even,  When Travelling By Train,

Prefer,  As I Observe,  French Novels Inspired By Cloacina To The

"Lives Of The Saints."

Some People In The Colonies Are Said To Have Had No Grandfathers; But

John Smithers Was Even More Deficient In Pedigree,  For He Had Neither

Father Nor Mother,  As Far As He Could Recollect.  He Commenced Life

As A Stable Boy And General Drudge In England,  At A Village Inn Owned

And Conducted By A Widow Named Cobbledick.   This Widow Had A

Daughter Named Jemima.  The Mischief Wrought In This World By Women,

From Eve To Jemima Downwards,  Is Incalculable,  And Smithers Averred

That It Was This Female,  Jemima,  Who Brought On His Sorrow,  Grief,

And Woe.  She Was Very Advanced In Wordly Science,  As Young Ladies

Are Apt To Be When They Are Educated In The Retail Liquor Trade. When

Smithers Had Been Several Years At The Inn,  And Jemima Was Already In

Her Teens,  She Thought The World Went Slowly; She Had No Lover,  There

Was Nobody Coming To Marry Her,  Nobody Coming To Woo.  But At Length

She Was Determined To Find A Remedy For This State Of Things.  She

Had Never Read The History Of The Loves Of The Great Catherine Of

Russia,  Nor Of Those Of Our Own Virgin Queen Elizabeth,  But By An

Inborn Royal Instinct She Was Impelled To Follow Their High Example.

If Lovers Did Not Offer Their Adoration To Her Charms Spontaneously,

There Was At Any Rate One Whose Homage She Could Command.  One Sunday

Afternoon,  While Her Mother Was Absent,  She Went To The Stable And

Ordered Smithers To Come And Take A Walk With Her,  Directing Him

First To Polish His Shoes And Put On His Best Clothes.  She Brought

Out A Bottle Of Scented Oil To Sweeten Him,  And Told Him To Rub It

Well Into His Hair,  And Stroke His Head With His Hands Until It Was

Sleek And Shiny.  She Had Put On Her Sunday Dress And Best Bonnet;

She Had Four Ringlets At Each Side Of Her Face; And To Crown Her

Charms,  Had Ventured To Borrow Her Mother's Gold Watch And Chain.

Being Now A Perfect Princess In Stateliness And Beauty,  She Took Jack

By The Arm--She Called Him Jack--And Made Him March Away With

Her.  He Was Rather Abashed At The New Duty Imposed Upon Him,  But He

Had Been So Well Kicked And Cuffed All His Life That He Never Thought

Of Disobeying Orders.  Love Fooled The Gods,  And It Gave Him Little

Trouble To Fool So Sorry A Pair As Jack And His Jemima.  They Walked

Along Perkins' Lane Where Many Of The Neighbours Were Likely To See

Them,  For Jemima Was Anxious That All The Other Girls,  Her Dearest

Friends,  Should Be Filled With Spite And Envy At Her Good Fortune In

Having Secured A Lover.

When The Happy Youth And Maid Were Returning With Wandering Steps And

Slow,  Jemima Saw Her Mother Pass The End Of The Lane On Her Way

Homewards,  Much Sooner Than She Had Expected.  The Golden Hours On

Angel Wings Had Flown Away Too Quickly For The Lovers.  Miss

Cobbledick Was Filled With Sudden Alarm,  And Her Brief Day Of Glory

Was Clouded.  It Was Now Impossible To Reach Home In Time To Avoid

Troue Walked Moodily

Towards It. Suddenly He Stood Still As If Fettered Fast To The Spot,

And His Eyes Assumed A Wonderful,  Almost Refulgent,  Brilliancy. Then He

Shouted To The Mountains So That It Echoed To The Four Winds Of Heaven,

"_Eureka!_ I Have It! Kindergarten Shall Be The Name Of The New

Institution!"

Thus Wrote Barop In Or About The Year 1862,  After He Had Seen All His

Friends Pass Away,  And Had Himself Become Prosperous And The Recipient

Of Many Honours. The University Of Jena Made Him A Doctor,  And The

Prince Of Rudolstadt Created Him His Minister Of Education. Froebel

Slept In Liebenstein,  And Middendorff At The Foot Of The Kirschberg In

Keilhau. They Sowed And Reaped Not; And Yet To Possess The Privilege Of

Sowing,  Was It Not Equivalent In Itself To Reaping A Very Great Reward?

In Any Event,  It Is Delightful To Remember That Froebel,  In The April

Of 1852,  The Year In Which He Died (June 21st),  Received Public Honours

At The Hands Of The General Congress Of Teachers Held In Gotha. When

He Appeared That Large Assembly Rose To Greet Him As One Man; And

Middendorff,  Too,  Who Was Inseparable From Froebel,  So That When One

Appeared The Other Was Not Far Off,  Had Before His Death (In 1853) The

Joy Of Hearing A Similar Congress At Salzungen Declare The System Of

Froebel To Be Of World-Wide Importance,  And To Merit On That Account

Their Especial Consideration And Their Most Earnest Examination.

A Few Words On Middendorff,  Culled From Lange's Account,  May Be

Serviceable. Middendorff Was To Froebel As Aaron Was To Moses. Froebel,

In Truth,  Was "Slow Of Speech And Of A Slow Tongue" (Exod. Iv. 10),  And

Middendorff Was "His Spokesman Unto The People" (V. 16). It Was The

Latter's Clearness And Readiness Of Speech Which Won Adherents For

Froebel Amongst People Who Neither Knew Him Nor Could Understand Him. In

1849 Middendorff Had Immense Success In Hamburg; But When Froebel Came,

Later On,  To Occupy The Ground Thus Conquered Beforehand,  He Had To

Contend Against Much Opposition,  For Every One Missed The Easy Eloquence

Of Middendorff,  Which Had Been So Convincing. Dr. Wichard Lange Came To

Know Froebel When The Latter Visited Hamburg In The Winter Of 1849-50.

At This Time He Spent Almost Every Afternoon And Evening With Him,  And

Held The Post Of Editor Of Froebel's _Weekly Journal_. Even After This

Close Association With Froebel,  He Found Himself Unable Thoroughly

To Go With The Schemes For The Education Of Little Children,  The

Kindergarten,  And With Those For The Training Of Kindergarten Teachers.

"Never Mind!" Said Froebel,  Out Of Humour,  When Lange Told Him This; "If

You Cannot Come Over To My Views Now,  You Will Do So In Ten Years' Time;

But Sooner Or Later,  _Come You Must_!" Dr. Lange Nobly Fulfilled The

Prophecy,  And The Edition Of Froebel's Collected Works (Berlin 1862),

From Which We Derive The Present Text (And Much Of The Notes),  Was His

Gift Of Repentance To Appease The Wrath Of The Manes Of His Departed

Friend And Master. Nor Was He Content With This; But By His Frequent

Communications To _The Educational Journal_ (_Die Rheinischen Blaetter_),

Originally Founded By Diesterweg,  And By The Froebelian Spirit Which He

Was Able To Infuse Into The Large Boys'-School Which He Long Conducted

At Hamburg,  He Worked For The "New Education" So Powerfully And So

Unweariedly That He Must Be Always Thankfully Regarded As One Of The

Principal Adherents Of The Great Teacher. His Connection With The

Froebel Community Was Further Strengthened By A Most Happy Marriage With

The Daughter Of Middendorff.

[1] Johann Jacob Froebel,  Father Of Friedrich,  Belonged To The Old

Lutheran Protestant Church.

[2] These Were Four (1) August,  Who Went Into Business,  And Died Young.

(2) Christoph,  A Clergyman In Griesheim,  Who Died In 1813 Of The Typhus,

Which Then Overspread All Central Germany,  Having Broken Out In The

Over-Crowded Hospitals After The Battle Of Leipzig; He Was The Father Of

Julius,  Karl,  And Theodor,  The Wish To Benefit Whom Led Their Uncle

Friedrich To Be

Three Of The Times He Said He Had "Done Nothing," And For The Fourth

Flogging He Confessed To Me That He Had "Done Something," But He Did

Not Say What The "Something" Was.  In Those Days It Seems That "Doing

Nothing" And "Doing Something" Were Crimes Equally Meriting The Lash.

And Now After A Long Life Of Labour The Old Convict Had Achieved

Independence At Last.  I Don't Think I Ever Met A Richer Man; He Was

Richer Than The Whole Family Of The Rothschilds; He Wanted Scarcely

Anything.  Food And Clothing He Obtained For The Asking For Them,  And

He Was Not Particular As To Their Quality Of The Quantity Was

Sufficient.  Property To Him Was Something Despicable; He Did Not

Want Any,  And Would Not Live Inside Of A House If He Had One; He

Preferred The Outside.  He Was Free From Family Cares--Never Had

Father Or Mother,  Sister Or Brother,  Wife Or Children.  No Poor Relatives

Ever Claimed His Hospitality; No Intimate Friends Wanted To Borrow

Half-A-Crown; No One Ever Asked Him To Buy Suburban Lots,  Or To Take

Shares In A Limited Liability Company.  He Was Perfectly Indifferent

To All Danger From Bush-Rangers,  Burglars,  Pickpockets,  Or Cattle

Stealers; He Did Not Even Own A Dog,  So The Dogman Never Asked Him

For The Dog Tax.  He Never Enquired About The State Of The Money

Market,  Nor Bothered Himself About The Prices Of