things to serve as material for their play. Many children, when
alone, have imaginary companions. One little boy, when taken out for
his airing, daily met an imaginary friend, whom he called "Buster."
As soon as he stepped out of the house he uttered a peculiar call,
to which Buster replied--though no one but he heard him--and he
would run to meet him and they would have a lovely time together,
sometimes for hours at a stretch.

Another little child received a daily visit from an imaginary cow.
There was a certain place in the living-room where this red cow with
white spots would appear. The child would go through the motions of
feeding her, patting her, and bringing her water.

In these two cases the "companionship" lasted but a few months, but
there are children whose imaginary companions grow up with them and
get older as they get older.

[Illustration: Imagination supplies this two-year-old a prancing
steed.]

In some instances there is a group of such imaginary companions, and
their activities constitute "a continued story," of which the child
is a living centre, although not necessarily the hero.

It seems to me that the power to create his own friends must be a
great boon to a child who is forced to be alone a great deal or has
no congenial companions.

There need be no fear--except perhaps in very extreme cases--that
such activity of the imagination is morbid. A little girl who plays