How gloriously he redeemed his vow and earned the lasting gratitude of the St. Nicholas editor and readers is indeed a cause of congratulation not only to the magazine but to the world. For a few weeks later, at Mrs. Dodge’s home, he outlined the wonderful stories of little “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” and “Toomai of the Elephants,” and her joy may be imagined, as these were the first two of the famous “Jungle Stories” which were written especially for this magazine. The incident illustrates, however, Mrs. Dodge’s editorial gift of enlisting great writers in the service of children and of getting from each of them his or her best. She had always the fitting word for every occasion, and her wide and intimate acquaintance with the greatest writers of the time was made to contribute to the benefit of the eager-minded boys and girls, It was through her personal friendship with William Cullen Bryant, Henry W. Longfellow, and John G. Whittier that those distinguished poets became frequent contributors to St. Nicholas. But she had also the gift of inspiring all contributors with her own zeal in behalf of her beloved army of child-readers, and it was invariably in their name, and not for her own sake, that she made her appeal, as this extract from a letter to her good friend Mr. Whittier will testify:
Dear Mr. Whittier: I cannot help hoping that among your unwritten poems there may be some song or story for children—some Christmas thought or some personal reminiscence of a sleigh-ride or boyish coasting—in short, a legend or something from school-life, home-life, or thought-life that you may feel like giving to the children. If so, thousands upon thousands of them will be glad—and so will we editors be—and so will you be, for I know you truly enjoy making others happy.
The gentle poet responded a characteristic story in verse.
Even Lord Tennyson was persuaded by an irresistible letter to contribute the two exquisite child-songs which appeared in St. Nicholas in 1880. There is little doubt that personal friendship—the authors’ liking for Mrs. Dodge as well as for the magazine—helped to secure for St. Nicholas such serials as Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “Little Lord Fauntleroy,” the most popular juvenile story of its day, and in due time, with Mark Twain’s “Tom Sawyer Abroad”; besides notable single contributions by leading writers, including President Roosevelt, John Hay, Bret Harte, Mrs, Oliphant, Mary E. Wilkins, W. D. Howells, Edmund Clarence Stedman, Bayard Taylor, George W. Cable, John Burroughs, Frank R. Stockton, Charles Dudley Warner, and other authors of equal reputation.
Who shall measure the benefit which she thus conferred upon the boys and girls of America and upon their parents?
But, after all, this was only the lesser part of the service which she rendered. Far greater than any contribution or set of contributions to the magazine, was the patient, ceaseless, ardent attention which the editor herself bestowed upon its pages, and the conscientious, unremitting thoroughness of her work upon it from month to month and year to year.
No mention of Mrs. Dodge’s editorial lite would be complete without reference to the department which was her own especial joy and pride—though, all too modestly, she never even acknowledged its authorship. What reader of the early volumes of St. Nicholas will ever forget the famous “Jack-in-the-Pulpit,” the inimitably wise and witty little preacher whose tiny discourses of the keenest sense and most inspiriting nonsense—sometimes uttered from the “pulpit” direct, and at others through the blithe “Little School-ma’am” or good “Deacon Green”—were a feast for the minds and souls of young folks every month? It is no betrayal of a confidence, now, to reveal that Mrs. Dodge was herself “Jack-in-the-Pulpit,” “Deacon Green,” and the “Little School-ma’am” all in one. These were very actual and charming personages, however, to the boys and girls of that time. Like Shakspere’s characters to children of a larger growth, they were quite as “real” as many of the living, breathing folk whose voices we hear and whose hands we touch. There was never so delightful a department for young readers as “Jack-in-the-Pulpit,” nor one so endeared by matchless wit and wisdom to every youthful heart.
As if the heavy and steadily recurring tasks of editorial work were not enough, Mrs. Dodge found time, in the intervals of her busy life, to