How can children be taught to read aloud clearly, distinctly, and with feeling, so as to clearly convey the author’s thought and to give pleasure to the listener? “My pupils do not read with expression,” is a common complaint. “How can I help them?”

Manifestly the first requisite to reading with expression is the mastery of the thought on the part of the pupil, and this cannot be accomplished without mastery of the words. As has been said in another chapter, children should be trained to study in such a way that they can decide for themselves what words present difficulties to their understanding. When the pupils, after studying a lesson, are enabled to point to the exact words which are obstacles to their thought-getting, the teacher’s labors are minimized and her teaching is at once made definite. Such study, too, leads the pupils to more thoughtful reading. Since they must weigh every word in the sentence to discover its meaning, they become accustomed to dig for the thought, and to estimate their own difficulties. By this means they help themselves to the mastery of the thought, as far as the words in which it is expressed belong to their vocabulary.

But when a pupil points out to the teacher the words which mark the boundary of his understanding, it becomes her duty to make them clear to him. This is a fruitful exercise. The child desires to learn the meaning of the word which has blocked his way, and his need of it makes him its master forever after. It is only in this way that words are mastered. It is idle to explain a list of words for which children have no use in the expression of their thought. But after the study has revealed to the child his need of new knowledge, the word fits at once into his vocabulary and answers the new need. The teacher’s explanation not only suffices to make the reading plain, but it increases the child’s vocabulary for future use.

It should be borne in mind in such exercises that the word is not always made plain by simple explanation; illustration may be necessary, or some entire language lesson like those indicated in a previous chapter. The teacher should make mental note at least of these unfamiliar words, in order that she may so direct her language lesson as to supplement her teaching in reading. She is wise if she keeps a notebook at hand in which these lists may be recorded.

It will be seen from the above that the pupil is expected to master the words of the lesson as a means of getting the thought, before it is assumed that he can read with expression. But, having prepared himself through study, and having been assisted by the teacher’s illustration and explanation, there should be no hindrance to free and natural reading. We do, however, find expression hindered by various minor causes, some of which it may be well to discuss.

A frequent occasion of indolent or indifferent reading is the child’s feeling that the exercise is perfunctory, one of the tasks assigned at school as a school duty, but having in itself no excuse for being. He needs to realize that he is delivering a message, or telling a story which some one desires to hear. It has often been observed that children read their own productions with marvellously good effect, even when they stumble and hesitate in the normal reading exercises. The reason is easily discerned. In the one case they have something to tell, and desire to tell it. In the second case, the exercise is one in which they have no special interest. The teacher’s chief endeavor, then, should be directed toward inciting in the children a desire to communicate thought. This may sometimes be secured by having the class listen, with closed books, while a single pupil reads, the teacher insisting that he shall so read that every one who listens may understand and enjoy all that is read. Another help which has been suggested by many teachers is the practice of bringing from home different short selections, which the pupils are encouraged to read to the class. These selections may be brief and simple—some anecdote, some clipping from a newspaper, some phrase or line, some conundrum, which has interested the child. It will soon be discovered that the children will learn to read well only when conscious that their reading is the means of conveying the thought to their hearers.

The practice of consulting reference books, even with pupils in the lowest grammar grades, has a reflex influence upon the power to read aloud well, since it gives to the pupil something which he desires to read to the others and which he alone can convey to them. This desire to share what is read by becoming able to read well should be stimulated in every possible way.

Again, ease in reading, which is an important factor, is often prevented by the pupil’s self-consciousness, which renders him timid and awkward whenever he attempts to read aloud in the presence of others. This timid self-consciousness varies with different individuals, of course, and it also varies in different classes. The teacher is often responsible for this shrinking on the part of the children, although it may be an unconscious responsibility on her part. Undue criticism of the reader, which draws the attention of the class to his faults and makes him conscious of himself, often prevents the very thing which the teacher is striving to obtain. The pupil’s thought should be drawn away from himself and centred upon the thought in the sentence, the message which he is to deliver. The question should be directed toward that, rather than toward the pupil’s idiosyncrasies.

This is coupled with another serious consideration. It has just been said that the child cannot read with expression if he is thinking about himself. It is also true that he cannot read well except as his mind is centred upon the subject about which he is reading. The teacher’s efforts should be in the direction of picturing the scene which the child describes, so that it will become real to him, and that he may be enabled to paint it to the class. She not only will endeavor to refrain from drawing the pupil’s attention to himself by ill-chosen comments, but she will also help him to imagine the thing described and to fix his thought upon it. For the time being everything else is forgotten.

Let us suppose that a class is reading “Paul Revere’s Ride”:

If the pupil is to make his hearers hear and see Paul Revere, he must see and hear him, too. His eye must be upon the belfry tower of the Old North Church; he must feel the loneliness of the quiet graveyard, the fearfulness of the silent way; he must catch the gleam of the light; must watch the impetuous mounting, hear the hurry of hoofs in the village street, and realize the fatefulness of the hour in which the land is kindled into flame. Every effort should be centred upon helping the children to feel, to imagine the picture, and to sense its depth of meaning. Say nothing now about holding the book in one hand, standing on both feet or throwing the shoulders back; but stir the class to feel as Paul Revere felt, and to tell the tale with enthusiastic pride. Let all the questions help to make the picture clearer and the feeling stronger. Read again, and again, and again, until the message becomes most familiar, but with every reading more eager than before.

This selection emphasizes the need of preparation for the reading lesson outside of the reading class. No one can read the poem well who does not understand the setting. The story of the Revolution is essential to understanding the poem. Why the British ships were in the harbor; why the country folk should be up and in arms; what preceded and what followed the fateful ride; the scene of the poem—the belfry, the church, the town, the river, the harbor—must be clearly in mind. The background of the poet’s picture must be drawn before the children attempt to read aloud the paragraph.

It is obvious that the picture will be most vivid in the minds of those pupils who are most generously endowed with imagination. The above exercise goes to prove the need of some attempt on the part of teachers to cultivate the imagination of the children. A close scrutiny of the failures in our reading lessons would lead us to believe that it is to a lack of this power that we may attribute much of our difficulty in teaching reading. As soon as the children picture the scene which the words describe, they read with interest and vigor. Their indifference and heaviness are largely due to the fact that the words suggest no picture to them.

This faculty might be developed, in some degree, by frequent conversations which necessitate the children’s picturing or imagining what they have read. The simplest primer will lend itself to this exercise. The habit of drawing the picture which the sentence suggests is a further stimulus. Reading fairy stories or stories of adventure may help to stimulate the imagination. An effective aid is derived from playing or acting the story told in the lesson. I remember seeing a primary class that played “Hiawatha” with great delight, different children taking the parts of Nokomis, Hiawatha, Wenonah, the Pine Tree, the Fir Tree, the Squirrels, the Rabbits; reciting their parts with eager pleasure, acting them in the most unconscious fashion, and never with any lack of expression. The children recited with ease and naturalness and vigor. They were lost in their play, which was very real to them. Not long ago I visited a school in which the children had begged the privilege of representing the dialogue which they were reading. They assigned the parts themselves, improvised simple costumes, and read their various parts with great animation. The members of the class who served as audience listened with rapt attention, very unlike that which is ordinarily accorded to a rendering of the reading lesson. Through the play, the lesson became vitalized, it was made real. It did not occur to the teacher to suggest inflections or pauses; such suggestions were quite as unnecessary as they would have been in any conversation with the children. These things take care of themselves when the children have once been overmastered by the desire to express the thought. Nor will it ever be necessary to dwell upon them if this desire is created. “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” In a parallel sense, if we once inspire in the children the desire to convey the message of the text, the accessories of inflection and tone will become theirs. It cannot be too strongly emphasized that these lesser phases of good reading will be secured if properly subordinated to one great aim—the desire to communicate thought.

It is not difficult to imagine a question at this point. “Would you not have any vocal exercises to help in securing expression?” By all means, but not as a part of the reading exercise. If the exercise shows that the children have certain needs,—if the teeth are closed, if the pronunciation is slovenly or the articulation poor,—special exercises should be planned to remedy such defects, but these should be given as exercises and not as a part of the reading lesson. Sentences which demand clear articulation may be pronounced in rapid succession, or sung to the scale; selections may be read from the farthest corner of the room. Exercises which stretch the muscles used in articulation, exercises which straighten the body or secure ease in posture; breathing exercises and their kindred,—all are helpful, as exercises, but they should not interrupt the reading. They may alternate with reading, and prepare for it, but they should be considered, as they really are, subordinate to the one essential, the creation of a desire to read.

“Would you ever read to children in order to help them to get the right expression?” is a question which is frequently asked. By all means. There is no other way in which children can form an ideal of good reading. Many children hear no reading in their homes. They are accustomed to monotonous speech and to careless articulation. It is necessary to read to them, and to read well, in order to show them what good reading is. A further advantage of reading to the children is to show them how much the teacher gets from a poem or story which has meant little to them. Such reading should not lead to servile imitation on the part of the children; rather the opposite. The teacher’s comments upon the reading in the class will readily fix the seal of her approval upon individual renderings. “Let me hear how that seems to you, John,” she will say. “Mary, let me hear you read. I should like to get your thought.” “Kate, is that the way you understood it? Let me hear you read it.” I have heard a teacher request one pupil after another to read, waiting until the interpretation which was like her own was given before she commended, and impressing upon the entire class her feeling that such reading alone was correct. As a matter of fact, every rendering which was given was as good as the teacher’s—some even were better. The reader must interpret the author’s message as it appears to him. His reading shows his interpretation. If the teacher reads to the class, she shows simply what the writer’s message has been to her. In the reading lesson she gives to the pupils the opportunity of expressing what they themselves have read.

In reading, as in everything else, ease comes with practice. The class should have two varieties of practice. They should read and re-read a few selections which demand variety in expression; and they should read many easy selections which require very little effort in mastering. If the exercise is difficult enough to demand study, it will necessitate hesitation if read at sight. Such attempts at sight reading, with too difficult matter, will result in the habit of stumbling. Children should have an opportunity to overcome by study the difficulties which would otherwise make them hesitate in reading. All sight reading, so called, should be easy enough to be read fluently at sight.

The old-fashioned custom of setting apart Friday afternoons for reading, recitation, and declamation should be revived. The exercise was admirable, giving the children confidence in reading and speaking which resulted in ease and fluency. It was a helpful adjunct to the reading class and deserves to be honored in the observance.

It may be well to suggest, in this connection, that the habit of reading with free and individual expression is seriously hindered by the practice of concert reading. If the teachers who pursue that practice were to attempt occasionally to read aloud in company with others, they would discover the difficulties under which the children labor. The practice works in direct opposition to the exercises which have been advised. It is impossible for the child to give his individual rendering in a concert recitation. He cannot even read at his individual rate; he must wait for his neighbor. His words drag, his voice becomes strained and unnatural, the exercise assumes the school-room tone, and the children adopt the swinging rhythm of the singsong. A few children lead; the others follow, or most of the others—a very few succeed in evading the reading altogether. All this is wrong. It is better for the child to read once alone than to read ten times in concert with others. It is true, however, that there is one place for the concert reading. When a poem or paragraph has been memorized by the entire class under the direction of the teacher, they may learn to recite it well in concert without the disadvantages described; but, as a reading lesson, the exercise has no place—it should be banished from the school-room.

One word more. In our attempts to teach children to read with expression, we may be helped by studying to learn what selections they like best to read, what it is that appeals to them. By following the line of their interest we may come to realize why selections which we have chosen are difficult for them, and through making a wiser choice may become more successful in our teaching. Here, as elsewhere, it is the intelligent study of the class by the teacher which enables her to apply her knowledge of the subject which she teaches.