Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: "Through Fire and Water"

I had a real fear of fire growing up.  In fact, I demanded to have a fold-up emergency ladder installed in my second-floor bedroom when I was in elementary school (and I got it too!  That was an awesome birthday).  Who could blame me, when everything from Charlie Brown specials to Disney flicks used fire as a plot device to warn naughty children?

The one that stuck with me the most, though, was the Uncle Arthur Bedtime Story "Through Fire and Water."  While not as purely horrific as "Mother Love" (or its tamer revised version, "Mother's Hands"), "Through Fire and Water" terrified me because its message was directed squarely at me.  Did I quarrel with my brother?  Why yes, I did.  So this story surely outlined the fate I deserved.

Our story begins with Mother threatening to whip her children, Gordon and Clarice, because they are quarreling.  And yet this is not a story about the evils of child abuse; this is a story about how they totally get what's coming to them, and why a whipping would have been preferable.

Mother then leaves the children alone (obviously a model parent), and the children squabble about Gordon's amazing alcohol-burning toy train (I wonder if Mother went out to get more alcohol--for the train, of course).  Gordon warns Clarice that if she touches his engine, she'll "be sorry," and Clarice retorts that he "daren't touch [her]."  Ah, but daren't he indeed?

Clarice knocks the train off the tracks, and Gordon goes to clobber her, but soon they notice that the upset train set has now set the living room on fire.  Clarice tears down the curtains and stamps on them, but her dress catches fire, and Gordon throws a bucket of water over her.

But poor Clarice's legs are "burned, badly burned" and she must spend the next few weeks in the hospital.  And Gordon, who is astonished that "a girl could be so brave," brings her flowers, and when she comes home--here comes the moral--"while neither of them said anything about it, they both determined in their little hearts that they would never be mean to each other again."  Perhaps the afterword about suing the toy company that manufactured highly combustible toy trains got lost in my edition...

Lesson learned:
Don't mess with your brother's toys unless you want to wind up horribly disfigured.


Maxwell, Arthur S.  "Through Fire and Water."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories.  Vol. 1.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1950.  291-96.
Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories

Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: "The Two Carolines"

image Vernon Nye

"Caroline Herman was a very nice little girl in many ways" our story tells us at the beginning.  What ways?  Well, she's very pretty, apparently.

But, we are told, there are "two Carolines", the "home Caroline" and the "school Caroline."  At home, it seems, Caroline is quite cross.  But at school, she radiates kindness and joy-- probably, as the story suggests, because "she loved her teacher more than she did even her own Mother."  This points to trouble at home for Caroline, and one can only hope the teacher will intervene and contact the authorities to remove Caroline from what the reader can only speculate is an abusive or neglectful home situation.

We see Mother using Caroline for menial manual labor, as well as sending her young daughter alone to the store to buy groceries for the family.  Caroline always obeys, but she grumbles as she does it--the death knell for any little girl in an Uncle Arthur story.  It turns out that Mother has set up an ambush for her poor daughter, and without any Admiral Ackbar to warn her, Caroline had fallen right into the trap.  Mother has invited Caroline's teacher over so she could hear the girl complain as she set the table.  Caroline loses what appears to be her only ally in the world when the teacher scolds the "trembling" child, who "bursts into tears."

After that, we are told, Caroline never felt safe in her own home and likely never trusted an adult again, because "she could never feel quite sure that there was not someone listening to her in the next room" and judging her.

Lesson learned:
Fear is the best motivator for kids.


Maxwell, Arthur S.  "The Two Carolines."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories. Vol. 2.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1966.  15-19.
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Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: A gender analysis

image Uncle Arthur vol. 1

Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories, that inimitable source of childhood trauma, has some pretty distinct patterns in its tales which have become apparent after rereading them for this blog.  In a break from my regular posting format, I thought I'd address my findings here.

For my analysis below, I'm considering only Volume One of the 1964 edition.  Every volume has a "Lesson Index," so in italics is the "lesson" as written there, followed by the story title and description.  I include here only stories primarily about children that purport to teach a moral lesson, excluding only the "Bible" and "prayer stories".

Stories about female children:

Beauty, How to Find-- In "The Fountain of Beauty," Mother agrees that Nora is "dreadfully plain" but assures her that while "paint for your lips and powder for your cheeks" only "spoil" beauty, plain Nora can become beautiful by being less "cross and rude."

Grumbling, Cure for-- "Little Miss Grumbletone" is scolded when she grumbles as her brother Jimmie throws pillows at her in the morning, and is punished by being forced to eat, between sobs, every bite of her cold leftover lunch for dinner that night.  (The fact that Jimmie was hitting her with pillows is never acknowledged.)

Conceit, Cure for-- In "The 'I-Know-That' Girl," a girl is abandoned by her father at Trafalgar Square because she shows herself to be too conceited by saying "I know that."

Contradicting, Effect of-- "Little Miss 'Tisn't" must be taught a lesson because she contradicts people.  The most egregious example is when Father claims to have seen "a little man who was only three feet high" today in town, and his daughter expresses doubt.  "The worst of it," the story tells us, "is that she will contradict even in front of visitors, when it is so difficult for anyone to punish her."  (Great tip for kids!)  So her mother shames her by bringing her teacher into their home to witness the contradictions in action.

Curiosity, Days of-- "Curious Katie" wants to see what kind of custard treat her mother has prepared for her and her friends and hidden in a cupboard.  Although her mother forbids her to look, Katie takes a peek and inadvertently lets the cat into the cupboard as well, who eats the treat.  The ending: "Suffice it to say that pussy received a good slapping, Katie's inquisitiveness was reduced to normal, and the three little girls had a very plain supper of bread, butter, and jam."

Mischievousness-- "Mischievous Maggie" is such a little scamp that, one day "Daddy discovered little Miss Maggie sitting on the kitchen table cleaning his shoes with stove polish!"  (The text acknowledges this was likely a well-intended mistake.)  Another time she takes apart the alarm clock "[trying] to find out where the noise came from"-- "Did you ever hear of such a girl in all your life?" our story asks.  Maggie's father gets a new camera and takes Maggie's picture with it.  She is anxious to see how they turned out, so she opens the back and accidentally exposes the film.  Her father explains that "because of her naughtiness, [the pictures] would never be seen by anyone" and she learns a lesson for a lifetime.

Example, Effect of-- In "Echoes," Mary realizes that her younger brother repeats the rude things she says about her mother's cooking.

Laziness, Cure for-- "Dreamy Dora" sleeps in late in the mornings, so Mother punishes her by putting her to bed with the baby at half-past six and Dora cries herself to sleep.

There are also the outliers.  There's "Mother Love," which isn't really about children, and the only real story about a good girl, "Nellie's Wish," in which an unselfish girl gives her doll to another poor girl in need.

Results and conclusions:
Female children are bad when they are curious or impolite.



Stories about male children:

Courage-- In "The Man Who Could Not Move," a paralyzed man retains a cheerful outlook on life.

Faithfulness-- The reason "Why Victor Slept So Well" is because Victor is an industrious boy who works hard and anticipates his employer's needs.

Helpfulness-- "Wilfred's Secret" is that he runs the "Surprise Package Company," which does nice things for people who don't expect it.

Faith, A Child's-- "Jesus Understood"

Honesty Pays-- "Peter Pays Up" because he eats blackberries from the store and his Grandma makes him fess up to the shopkeep and pay for them.  The shopkeep rewards his honesty by giving him a nice jam doughnut.

...I'm sure by now you get the idea, so I'll just list the other titles and lessons about good boys for reference: Love, How to Show-- "How Much Love?"; Owning Up, Reward of-- "Conkers and Conquerors"; Quarreling, How to Stop-- "How Tony Made Up"; Persistence-- "Kocking Out the 'T'"; Tithing, Reward of-- "How Tommy Opened Up the Windows of Heaven"; Police, Respect for-- "Georgie and the Man in Blue"

Plus, there are at least two "bad boy" stories: Tardiness, Cure for-- "When Dick Was Late" and Greediness, Cure for-- "The Hollow Pie."

Results and conclusions:
Male children are good when they are industrious and courageous.


Lessons learned:
The boys tend to get "rewarded" for the values they embody or the lessons they learn, but the girls are more likely to get "cured" of them.  The boys also all have names, while the girls are often referred to only by the negative traits they represent.  I'm sure much of the discrepancy in the depiction of male and female children can be attributed to the time in which they are written and published, although the attitudes regarding male and female roles seem more in line with the mid-nineteenth century than the mid-twentieth.  The harmful stereotypes perpetuated here are worth noting since these stories are still being actively published today, and many of the volumes have rave (if nostalgically hazy) reviews on Amazon from folks who read these stories to their own children and grandchildren.  Really warped children's stories can be wonderful fun, but unlike the stories where a child gets eaten by a lion, or controlled by an evil book, Uncle Arthur's stories have a very unbalanced message that's easier for kids to internalize and accept as truth.

Text source: Maxwell, Arthur S.  "The Hollow Pie."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories. Vol. 1.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1964.

 Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: Volume 1

Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: "The Hollow Pie"

image Don Nelson

"Robert had the very bad habit of always taking the biggest and best of everything for himself."  So begins today's morality tale from Uncle Arthur.  We know what the moral will be after this sentence, so the real payoff is seeing how Robert will learn his lesson.  Let's find out, shall we?

Mother is tired of Robert "disgrac[ing] the family," so she enlists her sister's help to nip this little problem in the bud.  Auntie invites them to dinner and Robert is positively giddy with anticipation.  As soon as he gets to Auntie's house, he eyes each dish and makes a mental note about which biggest, most-delicious-looking portion he wants for himself.  When the pies are passed around, Robert of course takes the biggest one, but he is disappointed to find that it is hollow.  "Poor Robert!  Tears filled his eyes, but as no one seemed to notice what had happened, he ate the crust as bravely as he could and said nothing."  At least he's polite.

Then, cakes are passed around.  Robert takes the biggest one, but the center is disgustingly bitter.  Robert eschews the dull oranges and pears and selects the big shiny apple.  After one bite, he discovers the center is bad.  Finally, the chocolates are passed around, and Robert takes not one but two of the "big beauties in the center," but they've been tainted with a horrible taste.

That night, Robert complains that the food was bad even though he always tried to take the best-looking portions, and his brother Charlie sagely advises that that might be the root of Robert's problem.  Thus, Robert "put 'two and two together' and at last decided that the best and safest course for him would be to follow Charlie's suggestion in the future."

This is the end of the story, but it leaves us with so many questions: What did Auntie put in the food?  How did she distribute it?  Were the other family members in on it?  How did they know Robert would take two chocolates instead of one?  What about her menu--pies, cakes, fruit, and chocolate--is Auntie trying to send her entire family into a sugar-induced coma?

Is Auntie the sort of aunt who would put the poison into only the biggest portion or vary it up a little? Now, a clever aunt would put the poison into several portions, because she would know that only a great fool would always reach for the biggest portion.  Robert is not a great fool, so he can clearly not choose the portion that is not the biggest.  But the aunt must have known Robert was not a great fool, she would have counted on it, so Robert can clearly not choose the biggest portion in front of him.

Lesson learned:
It's a good idea to build up an immunity to iocane powder.


Source: Maxwell, Arthur S.  "The Hollow Pie."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories. Vol. 1.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1964. 25-28.
Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: Volume 1

Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: "Mother Love"

image Herbert Rudeen

I don't understand why this story was ever written, ever published, and certainly ever read to me before bedtime, but when it comes to childhood nightmares, Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories is the gift that keeps on giving.

The story begins: "Here is a very sad little story, and I hope you won't shed too many tears as you read it."  Then why are you telling us this story, Uncle Arthur?  Why?

Daddy is dead to begin with, so Mother only has Little Margaret left in all the world.  One night Mother wants to go shopping, so she puts Little Margaret to bed and tiptoes out to the market.  While she is gone, the cat knocks over an oil lamp and starts a fire.  Although the story initially paints a picture of Mother as a wonderful, loving parent who agonizes over the fact that there was no one available to sit for her child, here it points a blaming finger: "Had someone been there to pick it up quickly, all might have been well, but there was no one to help, and poor pussy did not understand."

Now the fire is described in exquisite detail: the smoke, the chaos, the burning.  Mother returns home and, although the firemen warn her that "no one could live a moment in those flames," she plunges in to grab her baby.  The firemen later find their charred remains, the mother still clutching her baby.

Here the story takes an unusual turn.  Although one might expect a lesson here about a mother illegally endangering her infant by leaving her alone unattended, instead, the blame seems to shift to... Little Margaret?  Or at least children who are ungrateful for their mothers.

It reads: "If you were ever in such a dangerous place, your Mother would rush to help you, even though it cost her all she had and her own life as well... And if that's true, and you know it is, don't you think that while you have the chance you should show her how much you love her, too?"  And while the story notes that a child could certainly run into a burning building to prove equal affection, it ends with what is perhaps a more reasonable suggestion: "Why not try washing the dishes for her next time she's tired?  I'm sure she would appreciate it just as much!  Anyway, it's worth trying, isn't it?"

Lesson learned:
Wash the dishes for your mother once in a while or you and she both will meet a fiery death.


Source: Maxwell, Arthur S.  "Mother Love."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories. Vol. 1.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1964.  86-89.
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Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories: "Jesus Understood"

image Harry Baerg

When I was little, I slept with my hands under the pillow.  Why?

Because I was convinced that otherwise, Jesus would kidnap and kill me.

The unforgettable little story "Jesus Understood" from Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories, a collection of Christian morality tales, is the reason why.

The opening sentence of "Jesus Understood" establishes the tone: "Little Bobby was crossing a busy city street when a big car came and knocked him down."  (Although it is not specifically mentioned, there is probably some subtext here containing a Valuable Lesson about looking both ways while crossing the street.)  Poor Bobby seems doomed from the start, but then we're shocked to learn he's damned to boot!  See, Bobby winds up in the hospital rooming with his old pal Tommy, and Tommy knows who Jesus is, but Bobby does not.

Because Bobby is probably going to die, Tommy tells Bobby all about Jesus and how He'll take you to Heaven if you just ask Him.  Bobby remains unconvinced that "a big Gentleman like that" would ever "listen to a little boy like me."  Tommy explains that there's an even easier method to capture Jesus's attention: "Just put up your hand--like we do at school--when He comes through the hospital.  They say He comes through every evening when the lights are turned down."  (This always led me to wonder: if Jesus is like a schoolteacher--raise your hand and he'll choose you--what happens if you answer the question wrong?)

That night, Tommy says it is "time," and, instead of alerting a medical professional, he urges Bobby to put his hand up.  Bobby, however, is too weak to keep his hand raised.  Tommy fixes the problem by propping up Bobby's hand with a pillow.  The last lines of the story read: "In the morning the little hand was still there.  Bobby was dead, but Jesus had understood."

This story haunted me for years and became the impetus for this blog.  As a child, I tried to do whatever I could so that Jesus wouldn't misunderstand and kill me before my time.  I had heard that Jesus would "come like a thief in the night," so I imagined him climbing through my window in a black ski mask seeking my upraised hand, which he would grab to hoist me up to Heaven.

Lesson learned:
Always keep your hands down, just in case.


Source: Maxwell, Arthur S.  "Jesus Understood."  Uncle Arthur's Bedtime Stories. Vol. 1.  Washington, DC: Review and Herald, 1964.  18-20.
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