Will-li-am climb-ed up-stairs to the top of the house, and went to the gun-pow-der clos-et. He fill-led the can-is-ter. Why did he not go down-stairs quickly? It came in-to his fool-ish mind, "I will go in-to the nur-se-ry and fright-en my lit-tle bro-thers and sis-ters."
It was his de-light to fright-en the chil-dren. How un-kind! He found them a-lone with-out a nurse. So he was a-ble to play tricks. He throws a lit-tle gun-pow-der in-to the fire. And what hap-pens? The flames dart out and catch the pow-der in the can-is-ter. It is blown up with a loud noise. The chil-dren are thrown down, they are in flames. The win-dows are bro-ken. The house is sha-ken.
Mis-ter Mor-ley rush-es up-stairs. What a sight! All his chil-dren ly-ing on the floor burn-ing. The ser-vants help to quench the flames. They go for a cab to take the chil-dren to the hos-pit-al. The doc-tor says, "The chil-dren are blind, they will soon die."
Friday, April 27, 2007
WITH tears!
Another gem from the Christmas Crackers anthology of literary oddities I mentioned the other day is this extract from a Victorian reading primer, which the author of the collection claims to have used himself in childhood to good effect. As a graded reader, it is perhaps a well-designed learning aid. The content, however, is, well, dark.... macabre.... potentially traumatizing.
This excerpt rather calls into question the aptness of the title, 'Reading Without Tears, or a Pleasant Mode of Learning to Read'.
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3 comments:
!!! Bizarre...
but then again, many children's fairytales are filled with awful awful stories. and look at the popularity of A Series of Unfortunate Events.
I remember 'Reading Without Tears' fondly. It was one of the first books I ever read. It seemed a very old edition. I think it might have been in my family for one or two generations before me. I have no idea what is become of it now.
I do not recall this piece or any others like it. Most of the stories were fairly innocuous. I used to read it every night with my mother at bedtime, and I fancy she may have skipped over some of the more grotesque passages such as this as a precaution against nightmares.
Really??
I think you jest, Sir Perceval. I can't imagine anyone being taught to read from this book in over 100 years.
Well, John Julius Norwich excepted, of course. Hmmm, OK, maybe it is plausible.
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