01 The World Through a Spy—Glass透过小望远镜看到的世界
02 The World Is Round， for I've Been Round It世界是圆的，我围着它绕了一圈
03 The Inside of the World世界的内部
04 The Endless Parade没有尽头的队列
05 The 13 Club十三俱乐部
06 A City Builtin a Swamp建于沼泽中的城市
07 Mary's Land， Virginia's State， and Penn's Woods玛丽的领地、弗吉尼亚的领土和佩恩的森林
08 The Empire State帝国州
09 Yankee Land扬基人的定居地
10 Five Big Puddles五个大水坑
11 The Father of Waters河流之父
12 The Fountain of Youth青春泉
13 The Covered Wagon大篷车
15 The 'Est，' Est West“之最”最多的西部
16 The 'Est，' Est West （continued）“之最”最多的西部（续）
17 Next—door Neighbors隔壁邻居
18 The War—God's Country战神的国家
19 So Near and Yet so Far近在咫尺，远在天涯
20 Pirate Seas海盗的海洋
21 North South America南美洲北部
22 Rubber and Coffee Land橡胶和咖啡之国
23 Silver Land and Sliver Land白银之国和棉条之国
24 The Bridge Across the Ocean越洋之旅
25 The Land ofthe Angles盎格鲁人的土地
26 The Land of the Angles （continued）盎格鲁人的土地（续）
27 The Englishman's Neighbors英格兰人的邻居
28 Parlez—vous Franais？你讲法语吗？
29 Parlez—vous Franais？ （continued）你讲法语吗？（续）
30 The Land Below the Sea低于海平面的国家
31 Castles in Spain西班牙城堡
32 Castles in Spain （continued）西班牙城堡（续）
33 The Land in the Sky天空之国
34 The Boot Top靴子顶端
35 The Gates of Paradise and the Dome of Heaven天堂之门和天国的穹顶
36 The Dead and Alive City死亡而又活着的城市
37 A Pile of Ashes a Mile High一英里高的一堆灰
38 Wars and Fairy—Tales战争和童话故事
39 The Great Danes伟大的丹麦人
40 Fish， Fiords， Falls， an Forests鱼儿、峡湾、瀑布和森林
41 Fish， Fiords， Falls， and Forests （continued）鱼儿、峡湾、瀑布和森林（续）
42 Where the Sun Shines All Night极昼之地
43 The Bear熊
44 The Bread—Basket装面包的篮子——粮仓
45 The Iron Curtain Countries铁幕国家
46 The Land of the Gods众神之国
47 The Land of the New Moon新月之国
48 The Ship of the Desert沙漠之舟
49 A "Once—Was" Country昔日辉煌的小亚细亚
50 A Land Flowing with Milk and Honey丰饶之国
51 The "Exact Spots"“确切地点”
52 The Garden of Eden伊甸园
53 The Land of Bedtime Stories产生《一千零一夜》的国家
54 The Lion and the Sun狮子和太阳
56 Opposite—Feet （continued）对面脚踩之地（续）
57 The White Elephant白象
58 Where the Thermometer Freezes Up温度计冻住的地方
59 A Giant Sea—Serpent一条巨大的海蛇怪
60 Picture Post—Cards风景明信片
61 Man—Made Mountains人造山
This book is for the child who: thinks heaven is in the sky and hell is under the ground; has never heard of London or Paris and thinks a Dane is a kind of dog.
It is to give a traveler’s view of the World—but not a commercial traveler’s view.
It is to show the child what is beyond the horizon, from “Kalamazoo to Timbuktu.”
It is to show him not only “the Seven Wonders of the World” but the seventy times Seven Wonders of the World.
When-I-was-a-boy in New England we had for Thanksgiving six kinds of pie: apple, peach, cranberry, custard, mince, and pumpkin, but I was allowed to have only two kinds and I never could make a satisfactory choice. I have had the same difficulty in selecting geographical places and subjects to tell about. There are too many “most important” places in the World to be included in this first survey, and there will inevitably be those readers who will wonder why certain countries and certain places have been omitted, especially the place where the reader may live.
To me, as a child, geography was a bugbear of repellent names— Climate and Commerce, Manufactures and Industries, and products, products, PRODUCTS. It seemed that the chief products of every place in the World were corn, wheat, barley, rye; or rye, barley, wheat, corn; or barley, corn, rye, wheat. In my geography modern Greece had but a paragraph—because, I suppose, it did not produce wheat, corn, barley, rye.
Geography was a “stomach” geography; the “head” and “heart” were left out.
I loved the geography pictures and maps but hated the text. Except for an occasional descriptive or narrative paragraph the text was wholly unreadable—a confused jumble of headings and sub-headings and subsub- headings: Home Work, NOTES, Map Studies, Suggestions to Teachers, Helps, Directions, Questions, REVIEWS, Problems, Exercises, Recitations, LESSONS, Picture Studies, etc., etc., etc.
The World was an orange when I went to school, and there were only three things I can remember that I ever learned “for sure”—that the Dutch children wore wooden shoes, the Eskimos lived in snow houses, and the Chinese ate with chopsticks.
We had a question and answer catechism which we learned as we did the multiplication tables. The teacher read from her book:
Q. “What is the condition of the people of the United States?” and a thirteen-year-old boy in the next seat answered glibly: A. “They are poor and ignorant and live in miserable huts.” At which astounding statement the teacher unemotionally remarked, “No, that’s the answer to the next question, ‘What is the condition of the Eskimos?’”
When my turn came to teach geography to beginners nine years of age, I found the available textbooks either too commercial and industrial, on the one hand, or too puerile and inconsequential, on the other. Statistics and abstractions were entirely beyond the ken of the child of nine, and random stories of children in other countries had little value as geography.
As I had been a traveler for many years, had visited most of the countries of the Globe, and in actual mileage had been five times the distance around the World, I thought I would write a geography myself. Vain conceit! A class would listen with considerable attention to my extemporaneous travel talks, so I had a stenographer take down these talks verbatim. But when I read these notes of the same talk to another class, then it was that I discovered a book may be good—until it is written. So I’ve had to try, try again and again, for children’s reactions can never be forecast. Neither can one tell without trial what children will or will not understand. Preconceived notions of what words they should or should not know are worthless: “Stupendous and appalling” presented no difficulties whatever but much simpler words were misunderstood.
I had been reading to a class from an excellent travel book for children. The author said, “We arrived, tired and hungry, and found quarters in the nearest hotel.” The children understood “found quarters” to mean that the travelers had picked up 25-cent pieces in the hotel! Then again I had been describing the “Bridge of Sighs,” in Venice, and picturing the condemned prisoners who crossed it. Casually I asked if any one could tell me why it was called the “Bridge of Sighs”. One boy said, “Because it is of big size.” A little girl, scorning his ignorance, said, “Because it has sides.” A boy from the country, with a far-fetched imagination, suggested it might be because they used “scythes”; and a fourth child said, “Because it belonged to a man named ‘Cy.’”
The study of maps is interesting to almost all children. A map is like a puzzle picture—but new names are hard. And yet geography without either name or place is not geography at all. It is only fairyland. The study of maps and names is therefore absolutely essential and large wall maps most desirable.
Geography lends itself admirably to research on the part of the child. A large scrap-book arranged by countries may easily be filled with current pictorial news, clippings from magazines and Sunday newspapers, and from the circulars of travel bureaus. There is a wealth of such scrap-book material almost constantly being published—pictures of temples in India, pagodas in China, wild animal hunts in Africa, parks in Paris—from which the child can compile his own Geographic Magazine. Furthermore, the collection of stamps offers a most attractive field, particularly for the boy just reaching the age when such collections are as absorbing as an adult hobby.
Of course, the best way to learn geography is by travel but not like that of the business man who landed in Rome with one hour to see the city.
Jumping into a taxi and referring to a slip of paper, he said: “There are only two things I want to see here—St. Peter’s and the Colosseum. Drive to them as fast as you can and back to the station.” He was accordingly driven to St. Peter’s. Sticking his head out of the window he said to the driver,“Well, which is this?”
In the little town where I was born, there lived an old, old man whose chief claim to distinction was the fact that he had never in his whole life been ten miles away from home. Nowadays travel is so easy that every child may look forward to traveling some day. This book is to give him some inkling of what there is to see, so that his travel may not be as meaningless as that of the simple sailor who goes round the world and returns with nothing but a parrot and a string of glass beads.
“ALL ABOARD !”
When-I-was-a-boy, my nurse used to take me to the railroad station to see the trains. A man in a blue cap and blue suit with brass buttons would call, “All aboard for Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, and points north and east!” and wave his arm for the train to start. My nurse said he was a conductor.
So when I went home I used to put on a cap and play conductor shouting, “All aboard for Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, and points north and east!” over and over, again and again, until I was told, “For pity sake, stop it!”
But some day I hoped, when I grew up, to be a real conductor in a blue cap and a blue suit with brass buttons. And now that I am grown up, I am still playing conductor, for in this book I am going to take you to Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, and points north, east, south and west—round the World!