eer score by chalk marks on the table or on the wall. But back of all
these devices, and forming a common origin to which all may be referred, is
the universal finger method; the method with which all begin, and which all
find too convenient ever to relinquish entirely, even though their
civilization be of the highest type. Any such mode of counting, whether
involving the use of the fingers or not, is to be regarded simply as an
extraneous aid in the expression or comprehension of an idea which the mind
cannot grasp, or cannot retain, without assistance. The German student
scores his reckoning with chalk marks because he might otherwise forget;
while the Andaman Islander counts on his fingers because he has no other
method of counting,--or, in other words, of grasping the idea of number. A
single illustration may be given which typifies all practical methods of
numeration. More than a century ago travellers in Madagascar observed a
curious but simple mode of ascertaining the number of soldiers in an
army.[6] Each soldier was made to go through a passage in the presence of
the principal chiefs; and as he went through, a pebble was dropped on the
ground. This continued until a heap of 10 was obtained, when one was set
aside and a new heap begun. Upon the completion of 10 heaps, a pebble was
set aside to indicate 100; and so on until the entire army had been
numbered. Another illustration, taken from the very antipodes of
Madagascar, recently found its way into print in an incidental manner,[7]
and is so good that it deserves a place beside de Flacourt's time-honoured
example. Mom Cely, a Southern negro of unknown age, finds herself in debt
to the storekeeper; and, unwilling to believe that the amount is as great
as he represents, she proceeds to investigate the matter in her own
peculiar way. She had "kept a tally of these purchases by means of a
string, in which she tied commemorative knots." When her creditor
"undertook to make the matter clear to Cely's comprehension, he had to
proceed upon a system of her own devising. A small notch was cut in a
smooth white stick for every dime she owed, and a large notch when the
dimes amounted to a dollar; for every five dollars a string was tied in the
fifth big notch, Cely keeping tally by the knots in her bit of twine; thus,
when two strings were tied about the stick, the ten dollars were seen to be
an indisputable fact." This interesting method of computing the amount of
her debt,