es which in their later developments we call
"laws." They like these wide-spreading conceptions which order the
world for them. But they cannot always take them as bald scientific
statements. Moreover there are certain general truths which tie together
isolated familiar facts which can be most simply pictured through some
device such as personification,--for at this age personification is
recognized and enjoyed as a device and not, as in earlier years, as a
necessary expression of thought. This uniting bond, this underlying
relation may be a physical law like the dependence of life on life; it
may be a social law like the division of labor in modern industry. Any
dramatic statement of these laws is a simplification as is a diagram or
map. And like a diagram or map, it is in a way artificial since it gives
weight to one element at the expense of the others. But again like the
diagram or map, the thing it shows is a fact, a fact which is more
readily grasped by this artificial device than by bald statement. Maps
do not take the place of photographs, nevertheless they have their own
peculiar place in making intelligible the make-up of the physical world.
In the same way, personification does not take the place of science.
Nevertheless it has its own peculiar place in making clear to the child
some simplifying principle,--physical or social,--which unifies his
multitudinous experiences. So long as personification elucidates a true,
a scientific principle, so long as it is not pressed to tortuous lengths
which actually give false impressions, so long as it is kept within the
bounds of aesthetic decency, so long as it is recognized as a play
device and does not confuse a child's thinking,--so long as it is
justified. No more. It is a useful intellectual tool and a charming
device for play. Kipling is preeminently the master here. It is a
dangerous tool in lesser hands. Yet I have dared to use it and without
scruple in "Speed," in "Once the Barn was Full of Hay" and in "Silly
Will." Here again I feel sure that study of children's questions and
stories would bring rich suggestions as to how to fill this large gap
in their present literature.

Gaps there are, and many and large ones. Still, taken all in all, the
field for the seven- to eight-year-old transition period is not as
completely barren as the field for the earlier years. For these children
are evolving from the stage where they need "Here and Now" stories. They
are beg