different shapes and substances, with lids to take off and on, one or
two rubber things that would bend and twist about and admit of chewing,
a ball and a box made of china, a fluffy, flexible thing like a
rabbit's tail, with the vertebrae replaced by cane, a velvet-covered
ball, a powder puff, and so on. They could all be plainly and vividly
coloured with some non-soluble inodorous colour. They would be about on
the cot and on the rug where the child was put to kick and crawl. They
would have to be too large to swallow, and they would all get pulled
and mauled about until they were more or less destroyed. Some would
probably survive for many years as precious treasures, as beloved
objects, as powers and symbols in the mysterious secret fetichism of
childhood--confidants and sympathetic friends.


Sec. 2


While the child is engaged with its first toys, and with the collection
of rudimentary sense impressions, it is also developing a remarkable
variety of noises and babblements from which it will presently
disentangle speech. Day by day it will show a stronger and stronger
bias to associate definite sounds with definite objects and ideas, a
bias so comparatively powerful in the mind of man as to distinguish him
from all other living creatures. Other creatures may think, may, in a
sort of concrete way, come almost indefinably near reason (as Professor
Lloyd Morgan in his very delightful _Animal Life and Intelligence_
has shown); but man alone has in speech the apparatus, the possibility,
at any rate, of being a reasoning and reasonable creature. It is, of
course, not his only apparatus. Men may think out things with drawings,
with little models, with signs and symbols upon paper, but speech is