the snow, climbing, swimming,
or any adventurous sport; in all of which there is danger, but the
skilful player escapes by his own efforts. If he lost control he would
get a tumble; and that is why the sport is exciting and worth while.
He has his fear in check, to be sure, but it is awakened enough to
make the escape from danger interesting. Nothing could be much further
from the truth than to consider fear as a purely negative thing,
having no positive contribution to make to human satisfaction. Though
we try to arrange the serious affairs of life so as to avoid danger as
much as possible, in play we seek such dangers as we can escape by
skilful work. The fascination of gambling and of taking various risks
probably comes from the satisfaction of the fear and escape motive.

But of all the "instincts", it is the self-assertive or masterful
tendency that comes in oftenest in play. Competition, one form of
self-assertion, is utilized in a tremendous number of games and
sports. Either the players compete {490} as individuals, or they
"choose sides" and compete as teams. No one can deny that the joy of
winning is the high light in the satisfaction of play. Yet it is not
the whole thing, for the game may have been worth while, even if you
lose. Provided you can say, "Though I did not win, I played a good
game", you have the satisfaction of having done well, which is the
mastery satisfaction in its non-competitive form.

When the baby gets a horn, he is not contented to have somebody else
blow it for him, but wants to blow it himself; and very pleased he is
with himself when he can make it speak. "See what _I_ can do!" is the
child's way of expressing his feelings after each fresh advance in the
mastery of his playthings. Great is the joy of the boy when he,
himself, can make his top spin or his kite fly; and great is the
girl's joy when she gets the knack of skipping a rope. Great is any
one's joy when, after his first floundering, he comes to ride a
bicycle, and the sense of power is enhanced in this case by covering
distance easily, and so being master of a larger environment. As boys,
I remember, we used to take great delight in the "apple thrower",
which was simply a flexible stick, sharpened at one end to hold a
green apple. With one's arm thus lengthened, the apple could be thrown
to extraordinary distances, and to see our apple go sailing over a
tall tree or striking the ground in the distance, gave a very
satisfyi