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and then he might； if only by mere accident； blunder into sense。
But； no； there seems to be a law against it。 He brings home woolly
rabbits and indiarubber elephants； and expects the Child to be
contented 〃forsooth〃 with suchlike aids to its education。 As a
matter of fact； the Child is content： it bangs its own head with the
woolly rabbit and does itself no harm； it tries to swallow the
indiarubber elephant； it does not succeed； but continues to hope。
With that woolly rabbit and that indiarubber elephant it would be as
happy as the day is long if only the young gentleman from Cambridge
would leave it alone； and not put new ideas into its head。 But the
gentleman from Cambridge and the maiden lady Understander are
convinced that the future of the race depends upon leaving the Child
untrammelled to select its own amusements。 A friend of mine； during
his wife's absence once on a visit to her mother； tried the
experiment。
The Child selected a frying…pan。 How it got the frying…pan remains
to this day a mystery。 The cook said 〃frying…pans don't walk
upstairs。〃 The nurse said she should be sorry to call anyone a liar；
but that there was commonsense in everything。 The scullery…maid said
that if everybody did their own work other people would not be driven
beyond the limits of human endurance； and the housekeeper said that
she was sick and tired of life。 My friend said it did not matter。
The Child clung to the frying…pan with passion。 The book my friend
was reading said that was how the human mind was formed： the Child's
instinct prompted it to seize upon objects tending to develop its
brain faculty。 What the parent had got to do was to stand aside and
watch events。
The Child proceeded to black everything about the nursery with the
bottom of the frying…pan。 It then set to work to lick the frying…pan
clean。 The nurse； a woman of narrow ideas； had a presentiment that
later on it would be ill。 My friend explained to her the error the
world had hitherto committed： it had imagined that the parent knew a
thing or two that the Child didn't。 In future the Children were to
do their bringing up themselves。 In the house of the future the
parents would be allotted the attics where they would be out of the
way。 They might occasionally be allowed down to dinner； say； on
Sundays。
The Child； having exhausted all the nourishment the frying…pan
contained； sought to develop its brain faculty by thumping itself
over the head with the flat of the thing。 With the selfishness of
the average parentthinking chiefly of what the Coroner might say；
and indifferent to the future of humanity； my friend insisted upon
changing the game。
＇His foolish talk。＇
The parent does not even know how to talk to his own Child。 The
Child is yearning to acquire a correct and dignified mode of
expression。 The parent says： 〃Did ums。 Did naughty table hurt
ickle tootsie pootsies？ Baby say： ''Oo naughty table。 Me no love
'oo。'〃
The Child despairs of ever learning English。 What should we think
ourselves were we to join a French class； and were the Instructor to
commence talking to us French of this description？ What the Child；
according to the gentleman from Cambridge； says to itself is；
〃Oh for one hour's intelligent conversation with a human being who
can talk the language。〃
Will not the young gentleman from Cambridge descend to detail？ Will
he not give us a specimen dialogue？
A celebrated lady writer； who has made herself the mouthpiece of
feminine indignation against male stupidity； took up the cudgels a
little while ago on behalf of Mrs。 Caudle。 She admitted Mrs。 Caudle
appeared to be a somewhat foolish lady。 〃BUT WHAT HAD CAUDLE EVER
DONE TO IMPROVE MRS。 CAUDLE'S MIND？〃 Had he ever sought； with
intelligent illuminating conversation； to direct her thoughts towards
other topics than lent umbrellas and red…headed minxes？
It is my complaint against so many of our teachers。 They scold us
for what we do； but so rarely tell us what we ought to do。 Tell me
how to talk to my baby； and I am willing to try。 It is not as if I
took a personal pride in the phrase： 〃Did ums。〃 I did not even
invent it。 I found it； so to speak； when I got here； and my
experience is that it soothes the Child。 When he is howling； and I
say 〃Did ums〃 with sympathetic intonation； he stops crying。 Possibly
enough it is astonishment at the ineptitude of the remark that
silences him。 Maybe it is that minor troubles are lost sight of face
to face with the reflection that this is the sort of father with
which fate has provided him。 But may not even this be useful to him？
He has got to meet with stupid people in the world。 Let him begin by
contemplating me。 It will make things easier for him later on。 I
put forward the idea in the hope of comforting the young gentleman
from Cambridge。
We injure the health of the Child by enforcing on it silence。 We
have a stupid formula that children should be seen and not heard。 We
deny it exercise to its lungs。 We discourage its natural and
laudable curiosity by telling it not to worry usnot to ask so many
questions。
Won't somebody lend the young gentleman from Cambridge a small and
healthy child just for a week or so； and let the bargain be that he
lives with it all the time？ The young gentleman from Cambridge
thinks； when we call up the stairs to say that if we hear another
sound from the nursery during the next two hours we will come up and
do things to that Child the mere thought of which should appal it；
that is silencing the Child。 It does not occur to him that two
minutes later that Child is yelling again at the top of its voice；
having forgotten all we ever said。
＇The Child of Fiction。＇
I know the sort of Child the weeper over Children's wrongs has in his
mind。 It has deep； soulful； yearning eyes。 It moves about the house
softly； shedding an atmosphere of patient resignation。 It says：
〃Yes； dear papa。〃 〃No； dear mamma。〃 It has but one ambitionto be
good and useful。 It has beautiful thoughts about the stars。 You
don't know whether it is in the house or isn't： you find it with its
little face pressed close against the window…pane watching the golden
sunset。 Nobody understands it。 It blesses the old people and dies。
One of these days the young gentleman from Cambridge will； one hopes；
have a Baby of his owna real Child： and serve him darn…well right。
At present he is labouring under a wrong conception of the article。
He says we over…educate it。 We clog its wonderful brain with a mass
of uninteresting facts and foolish formulas that we call knowledge。
He does not know that all this time the Child is alive and kicking。
He is under the delusion that the Child is taking all this lying
down。 We tell the Child it has got to be quiet； or else we will
wring its neck。 The gentleman from Cambridge pictures the Child as
from that moment a silent spirit moving voiceless towards the grave。
We catch the Child in the morning； and clean it up； and put a little
satchel on its back； and pack it