to whom all the
world is as play material, who think and feel through play, can we not
then drop our adult utilitarian speech and listen and watch for the
patterns of words and ideas? Can we not care for the _way_ we say things
to them and not merely _what_ we say? Can we not speak in rhythm, in
pleasing sounds, even in song for the mere sensuous delight it gives us
and them, even though it adds nothing to the content of our remark? If
we can, I feel sure children will not lose their native use of words:
more, I think those of six and seven and eight who have lost it in
part,--and their stories show they have,--will win back to their
spontaneous joy in the play of words. This is the ultimate test of
stories and verse,--whether they help children to retain their native
gift of play with language and with thought.

In the City and Country School where my experiments in language have
been carried on, we have not gone far enough to offer convincing proof
along these lines. But I submit two stories told by a six-year-old class
which are at least suggestive. The first is the best story told to me by
any member of the class before any effort had been made to get the
children to listen to the sound of their words or to think of their
ideas as all pointing in one direction and giving a single impression.
The second was told by the class as a whole while looking at Willebeek
Le Mair's illustration of "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." They said the
picture made them feel sleepy and that they would say only things that
made them sleepy and use only words that made them sleepy. Between the
two stories I had met with them seven times. I had read them sounding
and rhythmic verse. They had become interested in the sound of language
apart from its meaning. They had become interested in the sound of the
rain and the fire. They were thinking through their ears. Am I mistaken
in believing this shows in their language and in their thought?

STORY BY A SIX-YEAR-OLD

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Peter and a little
boy named Boris. And Peter took him out for a walk and took him all
around school. Then I took him out to my house and saw all my play
things. And then I took him to Central Park and showed him sea
lions and the giraffe and the elephant and I showed how they eat
by their trunks. And he thought it was queer. And he said he was
afraid of animals and so I took him home. I told him