of being told an important secret. "If you promise not to tell any
one," the older boy began, "I will tell you where babies come from."
"Why, I know where babies come from," replied the second, not
greatly interested. "Oh, yes you do! I suppose you think that a
stork brings them? Well, you're 'way off there. The stork ain't got
nothing to do with it," the instructor continued breathlessly, for
fear of being deprived of his opportunity to impart his precious
secret. At last the secret was out; but the younger replied, coolly,
"That's nothing. My mother told me that when I was four years old."
Since the matter had ceased to be a secret, and since the story even
lacked novelty, all opportunity for the elaboration of details was
destroyed.

But what can you tell to a child of four or five? For that is the
age at which the question is likely first to present itself.
Remember that the child is not asking a sex question, but one about
the direct source of himself, or about some particular baby that he
has seen. You can say that the baby grew from a tiny egg, which is
in a little chamber that grows as the baby grows, until the baby is
big enough to come out. This will satisfy most children for a
considerable time, but some children will immediately ask, "Where is
that little room?" To which you may reply, "The growing baby must be
kept in the most protected place possible, so it is kept under the
mother's heart." Or, you may say that the baby grew from a seed
implanted in the mother's body, that it was nourished by her blood
until it grew large enough, when it came out at the cost of much
suffering. Of course, you will tell the story as personally as you
can, about your particular child, and in as simple a way as you can.

If you tell the little girl or boy this much you have told him all