Integration of Theory and Practice in CLIL 1st Edition Ruth Breeze
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- 5. Integration of Theory and Practice in CLIL 1st Edition Ruth Breeze Digital Instant Download Author(s): Ruth Breeze; Carmen Llamas SaÃz; Concepción MartÃnez Pasamar; Cristina Tabernero Sala ISBN(s): 9789401210614, 9401210616 Edition: 1 File Details: PDF, 4.44 MB Year: 2014 Language: english
- 6. Integration of theory and practice in CLIL
- 7. Utrecht Studies in Language and Communication 28 Series Editors Wolfgang Herrlitz Paul van den Hoven
- 8. Integration of theory and practice in CLIL Edited by Ruth Breeze Carmen Llamas Saíz Concepción Martínez Pasamar Cristina Tabernero Sala Amsterdam - New York, NY 2014
- 9. Cover photo: www.dreamstime.com The paper on which this book is printed meets the requirements of “ISO 9706:1994, Information and documentation - Paper for documents - Requirements for permanence”. ISBN: 978-90-420-3814-1 E-Book ISBN: 978-94-012-1061-4 ©Editions Rodopi B.V., Amsterdam – New York, NY 2014 Printed in The Netherlands
- 10. Contents Introduction vii Part one: Integration in theory: Conceptual approaches 1. Teaching (in) the foreign language in a CLIL context: Towards a new approach 1 Ana Halbach 2. The roots of CLIL: Language as the key to learning in the primary classroom 15 Aoife Ahern 3. Strategic instruction in primary education: A pathway to successful learning in content-based contexts 37 Yolanda Ruiz de Zarobe and Victoria Zenotz 4. Evaluating a CLIL student: Where to find the CLIL advantage 55 Jill Surmont, Piet van de Craen, Esli Struys and Thomas Somers Part two: Integration in practice: The classroom perspective 5. Prospective CLIL and non-CLIL students’ interest in English (classes): A quasi-experimental study on German sixth-graders 75 Dominik Rumlich 6. Addressing our students’ needs: Combined task-based and project-based methodology in second language and CLIL courses 97 Ignacio Pérez-Ibáñez 7. Learning processes in CLIL: Opening the door to innovation 111 Felipe Jiménez, Agata Muszyńska and Maite Romero 8. Content versus language teacher: How are CLIL students affected? 123 David Lasagabaster
- 11. vi 9. Identifying student needs in English-medium university courses 143 Ruth Breeze 10. CLIL at university: Transversal integration of English language and content in the curriculum 161 Javier Barbero and Jesús Ángel González Directory of CLIL projects and resources 189 Index 195
- 12. Introduction Content and Language Integrated Learning (CLIL) has now become a feature of education in Europe right through the education system from primary school to university. In theory, such programmes involve an attempt to integrate language learning with content learning, usually by careful coordination of both types of input, or by focusing on the acquisition of skills needed to cope with both areas. However, the pressures operating in the education system mean that it is not always easy to integrate aspects that have traditionally belonged to different areas of the curriculum, and that the evaluation processes applied tend to centre on one area or another, rather than on both. Currently it is not easy to determine the extent to which language learning is integrated with content learning in school and university contexts, and there is little consensus as to how such integration is to be achieved, or how the outcomes of such programmes should be measured. In this sense, a further type of integration is required: that of bringing the practice of CLIL into closer contact with the theory, in order to explore how language and content can be taught in harmony together. To achieve this, it is necessary to establish the role that is played by other fundamental aspects of the learning process, including learner and teacher perspectives, affective factors, learning strategies, task design and general pedagogical approaches. Only when all these aspects are taken into account will it be possible to determine how language and content can best be integrated in real educational programmes, and to reach a deeper understanding of the theoretical basis for CLIL that can underpin effective classroom practice. The first part of this book provides a variety of theoretical approaches to the question of integration in CLIL, addressing the key skills and competences that are taught and learned in CLIL classrooms, and the role of the professionals (content teachers and language teachers) in achieving an integrated syllabus. In the first chapter, Halbach focuses on the role of the foreign language in CLIL and the type of cooperation between language and subject specialists that is vital for CLIL to be successful. She shows how integration requires adaptation on both sides, and explains ways in which subject and language specialists can work in harmony. In chapter two, Ahern returns to the roots of CLIL and considers the role of spoken and written language across the curriculum, stressing the vital importance of subject- specific literacies. She explains the central role of genre-based pedagogy, and illustrates how teachers can exploit the benefits of this approach in the CLIL classroom. Then, Ruiz de Zarobe and Zenotz examine the beneficial effects of integrating strategy training into CLIL programmes in order to enhance student learning of both language and content. They focus especially on reading strategies in the primary classroom, showing how strategy-based
- 13. viii learning helps students in CLIL contexts. In chapter four, Surmont, van de Craen, Struys and Somers provide a review of recent empirical research into the cognitive effects of learning through CLIL, and endeavour to answer the crucial question as to where the CLIL advantage is to be sought. They report striking findings not only in language education, but also in areas such as mathematics and abstract problem-solving. The second part of the book takes specific cases and experimental studies conducted at different educational levels, and analyses them in the light of theoretical considerations. Rumlich explores CLIL practice in the German context, and discusses how student motivation differs in CLIL and non-CLIL groups, even in years 5 and 6 before the CLIL programmes have begun. He discusses the possible reasons for this, and the consequences in terms of motivation for both sets of students. Next, Pérez-Ibáñez discusses the differences between Task Based Learning and Project Based Learning, identifing areas of commonality and divergence, and showing how they can usefully be combined in Spanish-language CLIL courses in the US high school setting. In chapter seven, Jiménez, Muszyńska and Romero describe innovative teaching experiences in Spanish high schools, showing how CLIL activities can be designed to promote transversal literacy skills and extend the students’ active use of a range of language functions. Chapter eight moves into higher education, as Lasagabaster examines the differential effect on university students of having a teacher who focuses only on content or one who tries to integrate content and language in the classroom. After this, Breeze looks at university content courses delivered in English, and explores how students’ levels of listening competence affect their self-perceived coping ability and possibly influence their academic performance. On the basis of her results, she draws up a set of recommendations for content lecturers involved in teaching courses in a second language. Finally, in chapter ten, Barbero and González describe how they built on empirical research concerning CLIL at primary and secondary level in order to design university-level CLIL courses in history and civil engineering. They explain how they addressed the problems that arose, and describe the support they provide for content lecturers. The final section in the book contains a brief overview of current CLIL projects. It is our hope that by reconsidering the principles of CLIL and reflecting on innovative practice, this book will help teachers and organisers in the ongoing task of building a sound framework for integrating content and language at different levels of education. It is clear that a major task of integration needs to be undertaken: not just integrating content with language (or language with content), but also situating both of these elements into the wider framework of education, taking in transversal issues such as motivation, literacy skills, and cognitive or strategic competences. Perhaps one of the most striking effects of implementing CLIL in real contexts has
- 14. ix been the way that this process has prompted teachers to revisit the principles that underlie their teaching, in a true endeavour to improve their professional practice and enhance the quality of their students’ learning. For it is quite true to say that in changing the language of the classroom, we have changed much more than simply the vehicle of communication. When CLIL programmes are implemented, teachers are challenged to refocus their objectives and rethink their classroom methodology. Above all, they have to return to the basics of what the role of language is in the teaching-learning process, and come to a deeper understanding of the complex processes by which children acquire new language and new knowledge at the same time. The outcome of this process is likely to provide immense benefits, in terms not only of the target language competences that are acquired, but also the strategies, thinking skills and metacognitive abilities that are encouraged through the CLIL process. However, if CLIL programmes are to yield all the advantages that have been promised, the teachers and organisers who are responsible for them must engage in an ongoing task of professional development in order to ensure that language and content are properly integrated, within innovative learning programmes that open new perspectives for the next generation of school and university students. By way of an ending to this introduction, we would sincerely like to thank all the authors who have made this book possible, as well as our colleagues who have contributed in different ways over the last few years to the Master’s Degree in Language Teaching, and to the events and publications in the area of CLIL here at the University of Navarra. It is our hope that this book will contribute to the ongoing debates and discussions surrounding CLIL in different settings across the world.
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- 16. Every cake had riz up in good form, ready for the icing; not one lop- sided or heavy cake wuz there in the hull collection. And the roast fowls wuz jest the right brown, not a speck of scorch on one of ’em. The jellys wuz firm and clear as so many moulds of rose and amber ice. And the posys had all been picked, and Maggie had arranged ’em in great crystal bowls and vases of sweetness and beauty. The table wuz all sot. We thought we would arrange it the night before, when we had plenty of time, so it would suit us. And we had got everything ready, and though I dare presume to say I ortn’t to say it, it looked good enough to eat, vittles, table-cloth, posys, and all. (Though it is fur from me to propose eatin’ stun china and table- cloths; but I use this simely to let you know the exceedin’ loveliness of the spectacle.) Genieve went in to see it after it wuz all ready. We wouldn’t let her do much, knowin’ what a journey wuz ahead on her. But when she went in to look at it she looked as if she wuz in a dream, a happy dream. And she wuz pleased with every single thing we had done for her. Snow, the dear little lamb, follered Genieve round tight to her all the time; she knew she wuz a goin’ away from us, and she couldn’t bear the thought; but we had tried to reason with her and tell her how happy Genieve wuz a goin’ to be, and she, havin’ such a deep mind, seemed to be middlin’ reconciled. Boy wuz of course too small to realize anything. And it wuz on Genieve’s heart that the tug of partin’ with him come hardest. She wanted him in her arms all the time, a most. And as happy as she wuz, I see more than one tear drop down on his little short brown curls and dimpled cheeks and on Snow’s golden locks. But I looked forward to the time when Genieve, sweet, tender heart, would hold a child of her own in her arms, and give it some of the love she lavished on everything round her.
- 17. Wall, as evenin’ drew on and the mockin’ birds begun singin’ to their mates down under the magnolias, we see Victor’s tall figure a comin’ along the well-known path, and Genieve went out to meet him for the last time as a maiden. The next time she went out to meet him it would be as his wife. And I spoze they both thought of that with a sort of a sad rapture, for they both loved Belle Fanchon and the folks that lived there. And they knew it would be on the soil of a strange land when she next sot out to meet him in the starry dusk of the evenin’ shadows. And the birds that would be a singin’ over their heads would not be the mockin’ birds of old Georgia. And different stars would be a shinin’ down on ’em, and it would be in a new world. I spoze they thought of all this, I spoze so, as they slowly wended their way up to the house in the soft glow of the semi-twilight amidst the odor and bloom of the blossomin’ flowers, and the melancholy, sweet notes of the mockin’ birds. They come into the settin’ room, and Victor sot down as usual and took Boy up in his arms—he loved the child. Genieve went up into her room to tend to some last thing she wanted done, and we sot there in the settin’ room, and visited for a spell back and forth. Josiah and Cousin John Richard had walked down to the village, and Thomas Jefferson hadn’t come home yet. Genieve found a letter from Hester a layin’ on her table, and she opened it and read it in the last faint rosy glow of the daylight. Hester and Felix wuz to meet them where they embarked. Hester’s letter wuz full of joyful anticipation about the new home to which she wuz a goin’. Poor thing! bein’ so tosted about and misused as she had been, it is no wonder. She and Felix wuz lookin’ forward with such delight and happiness towards the new home that their fervor thrilled Genieve’s heart
- 18. anew, and she sot there after she had read the letter and looked off into the rosy light of the sunset, and she dreamed a dream. It wuz a still twilight. The flowers about her window stood sweet and motionless against the glowin’ light. The last golden rays come through the vine-wreathed casement and fell on the letter lyin’ open in her lap, and as she sot there with her beautiful head leanin’ back against the old carved chair-back, the shinin’ rays seemed to move and get mixed with the shadows of the vine leaves. They moved, they shone, they took form, and as she sot there Genieve saw—whether in the body or out of the body I cannot tell, God knoweth—but she saw her future home in the New Republic. She saw a fair land lyin’ under a clearer, softer sky, but it bent down on strange foliage—giant palm-trees cleaved the blue sky, and birds, like great crimson and golden blossoms, were flyin’ back and forth in and out of the green, shinin’ branches. Crystal rivers wuz flowin’ through that land, whose clear waves wuz dotted with the sails of a busy commerce. She looked on these heavily freighted ships and see that the commanders and officers, as well as crews, wuz her own dark- skinned race. By the side of these blue crystal highways for the Republic’s wealth wuz flourishin’ towns in which stood great manufactories and workshops for all useful and valuable purposes. She looked into these busy places, and she saw at the loom, and the forge, and the work-bench her own people, and also in the countin’ rooms, and offices, and the superintendent’s rooms—all wore the dark livery of the sun. And she saw that none wuz very rich and none wuz poor, for the work wuz co-operative, and all wuz paid livin’ wages, and all owned a share, even if a small one, in these large undertakings; and she saw that none of the toilers looked haggard and overworked, for their hours of labor wuz short enough to give them all a chance for bodily rest and recreation.
- 19. She looked into the pulpits of the beautiful churches whose spires rose from the glitterin’ foliage, and wuz scattered over this new land. Colored men and colored wimmen stood in the pulpits and sot in the pews. Large, noble universities and a multitude of public schools dotted the land of this New Republic; colored men and colored wimmen wuz presidents, professors, teachers. The old lessons learned by their ancestors with many a heartache in the Old World wuz bearin’ its rich fruit in the new. She saw great museums, lecture rooms, art galleries, all filled with the glowin’ imagery of the race that tried to orniment and wreathe the chains of servitude with some pitiful blossoms of crude beauty; she beheld these gorgeous fancies trained into magnificent results. The walls wuz glowin’ with beauty and bold magnificence that the tamer, colder-blooded races never dreamed of.
- 20. “IN THE CHAIR OF THE RULER.” She entered the halls of song, free for all, rich or poor, and heard melodious sounds such as she had never dreamed of hearin’ this side of heaven. And the musicians wuz all of her own music-lovin’ race, and the melody almost seemed to have the secret of Paradise in it, so heavenly sweet it wuz.
- 21. All through this favored land out in the rich country wuz immense co-operative farms stocked with sleek herds, and worked with new and wonderful machinery invented by her own people. And in the Capitol, in the chair of the ruler, sot one of her own race, wise and beneficent. And all the offices and chairs of State wuz filled by the colored people. Over all the land wuz prosperity, over all the land wuz peace, for there wuz no conflictin’ elements of diverse and alien races and interests mixed up in it; and purified by past sufferings, grown wise by the direct teachings of God, the rulers ruled wisely, the people listened gladly, and the teachings of the Christ who more than two thousand years before come upon earth wuz fulfilled to His chosen people, whom He had brought up out of the depths to show His glory to the heathens. She saw—for her vision wuz ontrammelled by time or space—she saw the wise and kind influences of the Republic stretching out like the rays from a star into the darkest corners and deepest jungles of this great Eastern Hemisphere—she saw the light slowly dawning in these depths. She saw missionaries ever goin’ into these places from this New Republic with the Bible in their hands and its sweet wisdom in their lives, and then ever goin’ back with some new recruits gathered from the lowest places, to be in time educated in all good things, and then sent back as missionaries to their own tribes. And the sunlight lay lovingly on this land like the love of God long hidden under the cloud of His judgments, but now seeming the sweeter from what had gone before. And from all these cozy homes in city and in country she heard the steady tread, tread of the children walkin’ along to the music of the future, the future of accomplishment, of education, of promise. She saw them forever learnin’ new things, the newer things that wuz forever displacin’ the old—newer, grander, broader views and aims.
- 22. For heaven and earth wuz drawin’ nearer to each other, and the era of peace on earth, good-will to man had come. Long did Genieve set there wrapped in the glory of what she saw— whether in the body or out of the body I do not know. God knoweth. At last the voice of little Snow aroused her, and she took her up in her arms. But the light remained in her face. Little Snow come into our room in a few minutes, and she sez, “Genny took me up in her lap, and her face shined.” And I sez, “Like enough, darlin’. She is one of the Lord’s anointed, anyway.” And Josiah sez—he had come back, and wuz a layin’ on the lounge —“Probable the sun wuz a shinin’ into her face.” And Snow sez, “The sun had gone down; it wasn’t shinin’ into her room.” “Wall,” sez Josiah, “it wuz most probable the lamp.” “She hadn’t lighted one,” sez Snow. “Wall, it wuz most probable sunthin’,” sez Josiah. And I sez, “I presume so.” And I felt that it wuz. Wall, while this happy glow wuz still a shinin’ in Genieve’s eyes, Victor wuz a settin’ down below. Genieve had gone across the garden to bid baby Tommy good-bye. When I went down agin Victor wuz a settin’ by the open window of the settin’ room. It wuz a lovely night, as I could see plain, for the big windows wuz wide open and the moon shone bright in the east, while yet the rosy glow had not faded out of the western sky.
- 23. I sot down with my knittin’ work, and as I sot there a peacefully seamin’ three and one on Josiah’s sock, I see a little white bird come a flyin’ along from towards the clump of roses and magnolias that riz up over little Belle Fanchon’s grave. It flew along most to the window, and settled down on a wavin’ rose branch, and there it swung back and forth and sung a sweet sort of a invitin’ song. And into its liquid notes seemed to be blent sunthin’ sad and sort o’ comfortin’, and sunthin’ high, and inspirin’, and glad. I thought I had seen and hearn most every kind of song bird sence I had been South; but thinkses I to myself, I don’t believe I ever see a bird that looked exactly like that, or heard a song that wuz quite so sweet, so sad. It sot there for all the world as if it wuz a waitin’ for sunthin’. I didn’t say nuthin’, but I couldn’t help watchin’ it. I felt queer. Bimeby Victor came up the steps and come in—he had been down on the lawn for a flower for Genieve—and bein’ startled by him, I spoze, the bird flew up a little ways onto a branch that hung over the porch, and kep’ on with that same plaintive, sweet song, and it had that same air as if it wuz a waitin’, waitin’ for somebody or sunthin’. But pretty soon Maggie come in, and Victor begun to tell us how all his preparations wuz completed, and about his plans, and his hopes, etc., and I got all took up with ’em, and then I had to set my heel— or ruther Josiah’s heel, and that takes up sights of mind and intellect to do it jest right. And jest as I got it set, in come Snow, the precious darlin’, with her youngest dolly in her arms. She made me kiss it good-night. I didn’t really want to, its face wuz pasty and bare in patches, but I done it, and got two kisses from Snow’s sweet little lips to take the taste out of my mouth. And as I had kissed the doll affectionate and accordin’ to her wishes, she put up her little hand to my face in that sweet caress she always
- 24. gin me when she wuz real satisfied and happy with what I had done, or when I felt bad about anything. And as I bent my head for that lovin’ and tender caress, oh, how joyful and clear that bird’s song did sound through the twilight; it rung out as if whatever it wuz waitin’ for had come nigh it, and its little lonesome heart wuz full of content and joy. And after she left my side, Snow kissed her mamma and then went up to bid Victor good-night. She loved Victor, and he loved her dearly. And knowin’ it would be the last time he would ever have the chance agin most likely, he felt agitated and sorry, and took the dear little creeter up in his arms, dolly and all. As he did so I thought I heard the sound of steps in the garden, but I glanced out past Victor and couldn’t hear anything more, only that plaintive bird song, low, and strange, and thrillin’. And I kep’ on with my work. But agin we all thought we heard steps, and we listened for a minute, but everything wuz still. But sunthin’ drawed my eyes to look up at little Snow, and even as I looked a ball come crashin’ through the window and went right through that baby’s breast. Victor sprung to his feet and sez: “That wuz meant for me!” And as he looked down on Snow he cried out: “My God! has it killed the child?” But he laid her down on the lounge right by him, and, bold as a lion, and as if to shield us all from further harm, he sprang out on the piazza and from there to the ground, and faced the gang of masked men we could see surroundin’ him. But we couldn’t foller him with any of our thoughts; all of our hearts wuz centred on our little lamb. She lay there white as death where Victor put her. She lay there still, with her big blue eyes lookin’ up—up—and what did they see? Wuz
- 25. the Form a bendin’ over her? We thought so, from her face—such a look of content, and understandin’, and comprehension of sunthin’ that wuz beyend our poor knowledge. For a minute she looked up with that rapt look on her face, and then she tried to lift her little white hand in that pretty gesture of greetin’ somebody we couldn’t see. And then she slowly turned her look onto all of us, full of love—love and pity; and then she wuz gone from us; we had only the beautiful little body left. We couldn’t believe it; we wuz stunned and almost killed with the suddenness of it, the terribleness, the onheard-of agony and pity of it. But it wuz so. When we had come to ourselves a little, and sent for the doctor, and worked over her, and wept over her till fur into the night, we had to believe it—dear little Snow had gone. Victor, full of thought for Genieve, for us all, led the gang away under a clump of magnolias in a distant part of the grounds, nigh to the little tomb of Belle Fanchon. They faced him, their faces full of brutal anger, and low envy, and all bad passions. Led on by the cruel lies and influence of Col. Seybert, and their own low distrust and dislike of superiority in one of their own class, their own besotted ideas of their personal freedom— They told Victor they would give him a chance for life. Let him give up his ideas of colonization, let him give up his plans of enrichin’ himself on the earnings of the poor, let him show he wuz one of his own people by goin’ back to his work again to Col. Seybert’s—they would give him this one chance.
- 26. “FACED THE GANG OF MASKED MEN.” Victor turned his deep, pitiful eyes on the imbruted forms before him, some black and some white, but all covered with the blackness of ignorance, and superstition, and causeless anger, and brutality—
- 27. And he sez to them, “My friends and brothers, I have only wanted to do you good. Heaven is my witness I have only sought out a better way for you. And I have been willing to spend my life and strength to help you. This country is no place for us.” “It wuz good nuff for our faders and muders, and, ’fore Gawd, it is good nuff for us,” shouted out some one in the crowd. “I have wanted to help you all—to help myself to a better way of living. The evils we have about us are not of our own making nor of this generation—they are old and heavy with sorrow and iniquity. This land is burdened, and cries out under this load of woe, and perplexity, and sin. I have tried the old way—we all have—we have been burdened more than we could bear in the old paths. I have only sought to lead my people out into a safer, broader place, where we could be free from some of the worst evils that beset us here, and where there is a chance for us to have a home and a country of our own.” “Curse you! shet up your jaw!” sung out one burly ruffian, in the thick tones of semi-intoxication. For Col. Seybert had not failed to prime up their courage with bad whiskey. “We have heard enough of your yawp! Will you give up your plans or not?” “Never!” said Victor. “I will never give up this hope, this work while I live.” “Then you may die, curse you!” said one voice. And another voice rose up in venomous, brutal tones: “You have preached your damned sermons about patience, and forgiveness, and all that bosh, and you have been all the time a carryin’ on your underhanded stealin’, and featherin’ your own nest out of the hard-earned wages of the black men. And they say,” went on this voice, which wuz evidently the voice of a white man, “they say that you are a goin’ to sell the hull crew you take over for slaves and line your own pockets with the blood-money of your brothers— you traitor you!”
- 28. Victor raised his arms mutely to the heavens as if to plead aginst the injustice of men. And as his clasped hands wuz raised, a bullet struck that noble heart, and he fell, breathin’ out that old prayer: “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.”
- 29. “WHEN THE MOON HAD RISEN.”
- 30. W CHAPTER XVIII. HEN the moon had risen a little higher and its direct rays fell down through the glossy leaves onto that white, kingly face, another shadow fell on the green, blossomin’ sward, and a pale face looked through the branches, and Genieve stood there by the dead form of the man she worshipped. It wuz all over. She could do nothin’—wimmen seldom can in tragedys arisin’ from grave political difficulties. But there is one thing she can do—she is used to it—she can suffer. Genieve could throw herself down upon the silent, cold body of her lover, while like a confused dream the whole past rushed through her mind. Her glowing hopes cut short, her life’s happiness all slain by the enemies of truth. She could lie there and try to think of the years between her and death. How could she live them? As she lies there prone in her helpless and hopeless wretchedness, she is not a bad symbol of her race. Heart-broken, agonized through the ages, helpless to avenge her wrongs, too hopeless and heart-broken to attempt it if she could. Her life ruin brought about by the foolishness of preachin’ what is wrong. The happiness or the wretchedness of one colored woman is of too little account to make it a factor in the settlement of grave political affairs. The tragedy in the magnolia shadows is nothin’ unusual; such things must occur in such environment—statesmen expect it. And after all, they may reason, it is only the takin’ off of one of the surplus inhabitants. Indeed, some contend that the speedy extinction of all newly made citizens, colored, and troublesome,
- 31. either South or West, is the surest and safest solution of the vexed problem. And this is only one the less of an inferior race. And yet as he lays there, his wide-open eyes look up into the bending heaven as if demanding justice and pity from Him who left thrones and divine glory to dwell with the poor and despised, who wept with them over their dead, and who is now gone into the heavens to plead their cause aginst their oppressors. As he lays there his face is wet with tears of a very human anguish. Somehow this easy answer is not workin’ well in this case. And up in the mansion house grief wails for the eternal losses caused by this same blunder. There are the innocent sufferin’ for the guilty. The old puzzle unfoldin’ itself anew—of the close links bindin’ human brotherhood. And how the rough breakin’ of one link is hazardous to all the golden rings of the chain that binds humanity together. Poor Josiah Allen! the doctrine he preached so long—that if you let an evil alone it will do you no harm—wuz all broke down and crushed to pieces. Poor old man! mournin’ over the sweet bud that too ontimely perished in its first bloom. Poor man! poor, broken-hearted old Grandpa—with the silver voice that used to make a music of that name stilled forever. How can any pen, no matter how touched with flame from the altar, how can it picture that night? Maggie layin’ like death, passin’ from one faintin’ fit into another. Thomas Jefferson, poor, poor boy, lookin’ up into my face with dumb pleadin’ for the comfort he could not find there. No, I couldn’t comfort him at that time, for what wuz I a thinkin’ of, in the impatience of my agony, the onreasonableness of my bewildered, rebellious pain?
- 32. I said in them first hours, and I turned my face away from the light as I said it, “Darkness and despair is over the hull world. Snow is dead!” And I thought to myself bitterly, what if the South duz rise up out of its dark dreams into a glorious awakenin’, a peaceful, prosperous future—what of it? Our darlin’, the light of our eyes, has gone forever. What can any sunshine do, no matter how bright, only to pour down vainly upon the sweet blue eyes that will never open again? And fur in the East a grand republic may rise holdin’ in its newer life the completed knowledge of the older civilizations. But Snow is dead! Yes, I sez to myself, as did another, “If they want a new song for their Africa free, let none look to me,” I sez, “my old heart cannot raise to anthems of joy and glory.” No; my heart is bendin’ over a little cold form. Between the sun- bright glory of that new and free land stands a little tender form with a bleedin’ stain on its bosom. Or is it beckonin’? Was it the glow from them shinin’ curls that lightened the eastern sky? Duz she speak in the pathos and beauty of our hearts’ desire for a race’s freedom? Dear little soul, so pitiful of all sufferin’, duz she help them who loved her to be patient with ignorance, and intolerance, squalor, and power? Patient with all and every form of error and woe? She lays under a flowery mound in the summer grounds of Belle Fanchon, close to the grave of the other little sleeper that slept so long there alone. The rivulet wraps its warm, lovin’ arms close about both little graves. Near by, just across the valley, reposes the form of Victor the king. Victor over ignorance, over wickedness, victor over his enemies, for he died blessin’ them. How else could he get the victory over his murderers? Ah! the flowers from these graves risin’ up together, will they not sweeten and purify the soil that nourishes them—subtle perfume
- 33. risin’ out of the black soil and darkness, sweet and priceless aroma risin’ to the heavens? Upon the ancient altars the ripe fruit wuz laid, and the flowers. God knows best! Oh, achin’ heart, where the silken head rested, and which will be empty and achin’ forevermore; oh, streamin’ eyes, tear-blinded and anguished, that will never again see the sweetest form, the loveliest face that earth ever held, what can they say but this—God knows best! And they can think through the long days and nights of hopelessness and emptiness, that her sweet, prophetic eyes have found the Realities made visible to her onknown to the coarser minds about her. The Form that bent over her cradle and whispered to her has taken her now to a close and guardin’ embrace. Wuz it some fair, sweet messenger, some gentle angel guide, or wuz there in the hands held out to her the mark of the nails? The glow that lit up her shinin’ hair from some radiant realm onbeknown to us wraps her round in its pure radiance. Little Snow has gone into the Belovéd City; but alas for the hearts that strive to follow her and cannot! But her sweet little body is a layin’ close by the side of the little girl who went to sleep there thirty years ago. Over her is a small headstone bearin’ this inscription: “Little Snow,” and under it are the only words that can give any comfort when they are cut in the marble over a child’s grave: “He carries the lambs in His bosom.” And so as the years go on the leaves and blossoms will rustle in the soft mornin’ breeze over the two little girls sleepin’ in peace side by side in the old garden. I wonder if they have found each other up in the other garden that our faith looks up to—if they have made garlands of the sweet
- 34. flowers that have no earthly taint on ’em and don’t fade away, and crowned each other’s pretty heads. I wonder if they ever lean over the battlements of Heaven and drop any of them sweet posies on the bare, hard pathways their friends that they left below have to walk in. Mebby so; mebby, when in our hard, toilsome day marches, a hint of some strange brightness and glory touches our poor tired spirits, when some strange comfort and warmth seem to come sudden and sweet onto us, comin’ from we know not where—mebby, who knows, but it is from the glowin’ warmth and beauty of them sweet invisible flowers that we cannot see, but yet are a lyin’ in our pathway, droppin’ on our poor tired heads and hearts. I don’t know as it is so, and then, agin, I don’t know as it hain’t so.
- 35. “EXILED BIRDS.”
- 36. W CHAPTER XIX. HEN a long flight of exiled birds stand ready to leave the South land for their old home again, whence they fled before the stormy blasts— As they are drawn up in a line, high in the mornin’ sky waitin’ for the leader’s signal to raise their wings and strike out northward through the pathless fields of blue— If some cruel shot strikes down that gallant leader, the hull flock is bewildered and full of panic and distress for a time. But a new leader takes his place, and the solid phalanx rises up and takes wing for their old home, which is again to them the new. The flight goes on just the same, and perhaps no one but his mate feels the loneliness and emptiness of the clear blue sky. Though mebby, if she is so blessed, she may feel the waftin’ of shadow wings beside her, and a nearer presence than the livin’. Felix took the place of leader in the enterprise, and though it wuz delayed for a little time, it went on to success. Though the great heart that planned it lay silent in death. Perhaps Genieve felt that his influence wuz still guidin’ her, that he wuz helpin’ the colony still; that bowin’ down in the presence of the Crucified, he brought gifts of surer success to his people than he could if he wuz still with them in the mortal body. Felix wuz a favorite with the company, and though he had not Victor’s genius nor the native gifts of prudence and foresight that he had possessed, his long apprenticeship to sorrow and peril had made him wise and patient.
- 37. He wuz helped, too, greatly by the calm fortitude and Christian principle of Cousin John Richard and the fervid devotion of Father Gasperin. There wuz a rumor that the Government wuz bein’ importuned by one in high authority, and wuz only waitin’ to learn the success of this venture, to send Government vessels over with the freedmen, with help to maintain the poorer ones for a year and get them started in their new life. But it might have been only a rumor. As I said, Victor’s death made a delay in the exodus, and it wuz durin’ those weeks of delay that Genieve received a large packet of law letters. Her father had died in France, and Genieve had been left his heiress. A goodly sum had been left to this lawyer if he wuz successful in findin’ his child. Perhaps by reason of this the search had proved successful. Genieve wuz a great heiress, for Monseur De Chasseny had no children by his French marriage—his lawful wife wuz dead. And the memory of the great love of his life wuz with him to the last. In a will made on his death-bed, he left all his large fortune to Genieve, “the child of the only woman he had ever loved.” So said a letter left in the same package with the will. This wealth enabled her to do much for the colony, helpin’ them to good schools, good books, good food and clothin’, and the teachin’ and the trainin’ that would make them self-supportin’. Genieve studied harder than ever, worked harder than ever for the good of her people, after the livin’ Victor passed from her life. The immortal Victor, the saint, the hero Victor, always stood beside her. He would not let her sink into the gloom and inactivity of hopeless sorrow. He nerved her to new activities. He held her hand that wrote stirrin’ appeals, and helpful, encouragin’ words for the New Republic. He inspired the vision that saw it risin’ fair and proud from the ashes of a dead past.
- 38. She studied history that she might help make a noble history for the new land; she studied law, and literature, and music, all with this sole ambition of helpin’ her mother’s race. The children of the colony almost idolized her, and in their love and constant companionship she found her greatest earthly comfort. She taught them all that she learned herself, taught them with the present love of all her lovin’ heart, and with the fur-seein’ eye of one who sees in this new generation the future blessing and regeneration of her people. And above all other lessons she taught them the Bible with the childlike faith of one who sits at the feet of the Christ. She studied it and taught it with the rapt vision and earnestness of a prophet who saw that the best future of her beloved New Land rested upon the victories of the bloodless armies of the cross. She had the faith that Paul had when he gave utterance to these incomparable words, and she saw through faith that her race should “subdue kingdoms, work righteousness, stop the mouth of lions, out of weakness be made strong.” Her people needed her; she wuz in no hurry to lay down her life- work. She wuz willin’ to stay in the vineyard and work as long as the Master willed. But she felt that when the starry nightfall come and the workers wuz dismissed, the rest would be sweet. And oh! how wistfully she looked forward to that land that lay beyend the New Republic, where she should receive “her dead raised to life again.” When on the threshold of the new life Victor would meet her and lead her forward to Him that wuz slain. Where she would dwell with him forever in that continuin’ city which by faith she saw while yet in the body.
- 39. VICTOR.
- 40. T CHAPTER XX. HE relation on Maggie’s side is dead. Some said of heart failure, others said of a broken heart caused by disappointed ambition. Yes, somebody else got higher than he wuz, and he fit too hard. Goin’ round electioneerin’, makin’ speeches by night, travellin’ by day, pullin’ wires here and pullin’ wires there, bamboozlin’ this man, hirin’ that man, bribin’ the other man, and talkin’, talkin’, talkin’ to every one on ’em. Climbin’ hard every minute to get up the high mount of his ambition, slippin’ back agin anon, or oftener, and mad and bitter all the time to see his hated rival a gettin’ nearer the prize than he wuz. No wonder his heart failed. I should have thought it would. So little Raymond Fairfax Coleman wuz left a orphan. And in his father’s will, made jest after that visit to my son Thomas Jefferson, he left directions that Raymond should live with his Cousin Maggie and her husband till he wuz old enough to be sent to college, and Thomas J. wuz to be his gardeen, with a big, handsome salary for takin’ care of him. There wuzn’t nuthin’ little and clost about the relation on Maggie’s side, and as near as I could make out from what I hearn he kep’ his promise to me. And I respected him for that and for some other things about him. And we all loved little Raymond; and though he mourned his Pa, that child had a happier home than he ever had, in my opinion. And I believe he will grow up a good, noble man—mebby in answer to the prayers of sweet Kate Fairfax, his pretty young mother. She wuz a Christian, I have been told, in full communion with the Episcopal Church. And though the ministers in that meetin’ house
- 41. wear longer clothes than ourn duz, and fur lighter colored ones, and though they chant considerable and get up and down more’n I see any need of, specially when I am stiff with rheumatiz, still I believe they are a religious sect, and I respect ’em. Wall, little Raymond looked like a different creeter before he had been with us a month. We made him stay out-doors all we could; he had a little garden of his own that he took care of, and Thomas J. got him a little pony. And he cantered out on’t every pleasant day, sometimes with Boy in front of him—he thinks his eyes of Boy. And before long his little pale cheeks begun to fill out and grow rosy, and his dull eyes to have some light in ’em.
- 42. “MAKIN’ SPEECHES.” He is used well, there hain’t a doubt of that. And he and Babe are the greatest friends that ever wuz. They are jest the same age— born the same day. Hain’t it queer? And they are both very
- 43. handsome and smart. They are a good deal alike anyway; the same good dispositions, and their two little tastes seem to be congenial. And Josiah sez I look ahead! But, good land! I don’t. It hain’t no such thing! The idee! when they are both of ’em under eight. But they like to be together, and I am willin’ they should; they are both on ’em as good as gold. And on Babe’s next birthday, which comes in September, I am goin’ to get, or ruther have my companion get her a little pony jest like Raymond’s. I have got my plans laid deep to extort the money out of him. Good vittles is some of the plan, but more added to it. I shall get the pony, or ruther it will be got. And if them two blessed little creeters can take comfort a ridin’ round the presinks of Jonesville on their own two little ponys, they are goin’ to take it. Life is short, and if you don’t begin early to take some comfort you won’t take much. But to resoom. The relation on Maggie’s side has passed away, but the relation on Josiah’s side is still in this world, if it can be called bein’ in this world when your heart and spirit are a soarin’ up to the land that lays beyend. But I guess it would be called bein’ in this world, sence his labor is a bein’ spent here, and his hull time and strength all ready to be gin to them who are in need. He is doin’ a blessed good work in Victor, for so their colony is named, after the noble hero who laid down his life for it. And the place is prosperin’ beyend any tellin’. All that Genieve dreamed about it is a comin’ true. And she is a helpin’ it on; she spends her money like water for the best good of her people. She didn’t raise no stun monument to Victor; no, the monument she raised up to his memory wuz built up in the grateful hearts of his people.
- 44. Upon them, his greatest care and thought when here, she spends all her life and her wealth. She felt that she would ruther and he would ruther she would carve in these livin’ lives the words Love and Duty than to dig out stun flowers on a monument. And she felt that if she wuz enabled to cleanse these poor souls so the rays of a divine life could stream down into ’em, it wuz more comfort to her than all the colors that wuz ever made in stained glass. She might have done what so many do—and they have a right to do it, there hain’t a mite of harm in it, and the law bears ’em out— She might have had lofty memorial winders wrought out of stained glass, with gorgeous designs representin’ Moses leadin’ his brethren through the Red Sea, or our Saviour helpin’ sinners to better lives— And white glass angels a bendin’ down over red glass mourners, and rays of glass light a brightenin’ and warmin’ glass children below ’em. There hain’t a mite of harm in this; and if it is a comfort to mourners, Genieve hadn’t no objection, and I hain’t. And the more beauty there is, natural or boughten, the better it is for this sad old world anyway. But for her part, Genieve felt that she had ruther spend the wealth of her love and her help upon them that suffered for it.
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