Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1

In Short

This volume is an eccentric, encyclopedic collection of nursery rhymes, moral fables, riddles, and lighthearted advice, originally compiled to serve as an "amuser and instructor" for Victorian families. Published by the proprietor of a legendary Australian bookstore, the book functions as a print-based extension of a physical "palace of intellect." It mixes whimsical poetry about dolls and kittens with stern warnings about the dangers of lying or greed. Its longevity lies in its sheer variety; it captures a specific, optimistic moment in colonial history, where the goal was to delight children, improve their manners, and provide a shared, wholesome experience for the entire household.

The Story

The "story" of this book is not a linear narrative, but rather a progression through the stages of a Victorian childhood as perceived by the adult world. It opens with a celebratory assertion of national identity, declaring Australia "the best country on earth," before immediately pivoting to the intimate, domestic sphere of the nursery. The early chapters are populated by "little" people—babies, dolls, and small children—whose primary conflicts involve going to bed, sharing toys, or accidentally wandering away from their mothers. The tone is frequently didactic, using simple verse to contrast the "good" child, who is tidy and obedient, with the "naughty" child, who steals sugar or talks back.

As the reader moves further into the book, the scope broadens. The domestic focus gives way to a wider exploration of the natural world and the "names" of things. There are elaborate sections dedicated to listing hundreds of names for dolls and boys, followed by nature studies of Australian creatures like the Emu and the Platypus. Interspersed are riddles, word games, and humorous catches that invite the reader to participate in the act of learning. The book does not shy away from the darker corners of morality; it includes cautionary tales about children who end up in prison or meet a grim fate for their transgressions, serving as stark reminders of the "ladder of the thief."

Towards the end, the book shifts toward intellectual self-improvement. It celebrates the "power of the pen" and encourages the reader to write, think, and compose. The final movement is a return to the comfort of the home and the hearth, concluding with poems about pets, animals, and, finally, the "eternal goodness" of a spiritual, orderly universe. The book ends much as it begins: by connecting the small, immediate life of the reader to a grander sense of purpose, whether through the "rainbow" symbol of the compiler’s legendary shop or the quiet, enduring comfort of a bed at night. It is a world where every action has a moral weight, yet the atmosphere remains one of persistent, wide-eyed wonder.

How It Unfolds

The domestic threshold The collection opens with a declaration of national pride followed by the gentle, rhythmic cadence of bedtime songs. It establishes the home as the central stage where a child’s character is formed through kisses, dolls, and lullabies.

The moral crucible The narrative turns toward the tension between childhood impulse and adult expectation. Tales of "selfish Edith" and "hoggish Henry" serve as clear, unvarnished warnings about the social costs of greed and poor manners.

The naming ritual A surreal transition occurs through vast, rhythmic lists of names for dolls and boys. These pages invite the reader to practice spelling and pronunciation, turning language into a repetitive, almost musical game of cataloging identity.

The natural catalog The focus shifts to the strange, fascinating wildlife of the Australian landscape. The text blends scientific observation with a sense of awe, framing the Platypus and the Lyre Bird as wonders that demand protection from "wicked" human interference.

The intellectual ascent The final beats emphasize the power of writing and the importance of an inquiring mind. The book concludes by tying the mundane joys of reading and pets to a larger, philosophical peace, reinforcing the idea that wisdom is the ultimate goal of a well-lived life.

The People

The figures in this book are less like characters and more like archetypes of Victorian virtue and vice. The "Good Child"—represented by figures like the industrious Jenny Lee—is defined by her ability to work, keep the house clean, and care for others without complaint. In contrast, the "Naughty Child," like the boy who steals sugar or the girl who refuses to share, serves as a mirror for the reader to avoid. These children are often depicted in states of intense emotion: sobbing over a broken vase or trembling with the fear of punishment.

Then there is the compiler, E.W. Cole, who appears as a persistent, eccentric presence. He is the benevolent shopkeeper and "Professor" who invites the reader into his store to find answers, names, and machines to solve household problems. He is a man of boundless, perhaps slightly manic, optimism, who sees the entire world as a storehouse of information to be organized, categorized, and offered to the public. Finally, there is the figure of "Mother," who is the absolute moral North Star. She is the source of all authority, comfort, and instruction. She never scolds without cause, and her presence transforms a house into a home. These figures rarely change; they are fixed points in a world where the primary goal is to maintain order, kindness, and a proper respect for one's station and surroundings.

In Its Own Voice

"Long ago the Rainbow was a Sign it is said, Now 'tis the Sign of Cole's Book Arcade."

This couplet explains the iconic branding of the author's famous store, which served as the inspiration for the book's creation.

"What is that which you and every living man have seen, but can never see again? Yesterday."

This riddle exemplifies the book's penchant for mixing simple wordplay with existential, if occasionally somber, reflection.

"The Australian Native Bear is a dear little harmless fellow, and is easily tamed."

This observation highlights the period’s attitude toward wildlife, balancing genuine affection with an intent to domesticate the natural world.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the civilizing power of literacy and industry. It posits that a "happy" home is one built upon the orderly consumption of knowledge and the rigorous cultivation of good habits. The book suggests that the world is a vast, chaotic place that can be tamed—or at least better understood—through lists, facts, and moral storytelling. It champions the idea that a person’s character is not fixed but is instead something to be crafted through "the pen," careful study, and the rejection of selfish impulses. It asks the reader to believe in the possibility of perpetual self-improvement, suggesting that by filling one's mind with proper thoughts and keeping a tidy heart, one can navigate the complexities of life with the same confidence that a child learns to read.

Why Read It Today

Readers today will likely approach this book as a time capsule. It offers a fascinating, often jarring glimpse into a nineteenth-century worldview where stern moral lessons were delivered with the same enthusiasm as riddles about "mooly cows." Those who enjoy historical curiosities, vintage typography, and the earnest, slightly eccentric voice of a self-made man will find much to admire here.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the book's rigid period attitudes. The gender roles are absolute, and the moralizing can feel heavy-handed or even cruel by today's standards—particularly the terrifying descriptions of the consequences of "naughty" behavior. The text is not a cohesive narrative but a collage, and its length and repetitive structure require a patient, drifting style of engagement. It is best read in small, contemplative bursts rather than all at once. What stays with you is not a plot, but the sheer, overwhelming sincerity of the effort: the desire to provide a child with a "best of all worlds" collection, where every page is meant to instruct, delight, and ultimately bind the reader to the comfort of the home and the light of the intellect. It is a deeply optimistic work, reflecting a time that believed, quite firmly, that a good book could change the world.