Now for an example where it is probable that the imagination of the child is used for ulterior purposes and the borderland between fancy and untruthfulness is likely to be crossed.
Jinks.
There is a little girl who a few years ago was possessed of many dolls, but the supreme favourite was an old monkey-doll by name “Jinks.” He was so much hugged and cuddled from the first that he soon became shabby. He quickly lost all his hair except a tuft on each side of his face, and his clothes were reduced to a pair of dark blue trousers and a sort of shabby white jersey. But the shabbier he became the more she loved him, and in time, being an ingenious little person, she began to make use of him, as is often the case among grown-up people. The first instance on record is of the simplest kind, but showed much insight into human nature. The little girl had been disobedient and was being duly lectured on her fault. She stood there looking very serious with “Jinks” tightly clasped in her arms. All of a sudden the length of the lecture became more than she could bear. Something must be done. Suddenly she held up the ugly old doll and with a pleasant smile upon her face remarked, “Look at Jinks! ’ow ’e’s laughing!” It was an ingenious and effective ruse, but a ruse it was and not mere play of imagination.
On another more recent occasion she made use of “Jinks” in a rather more elaborate fashion. Her everyday gloves were knitted woollen ones and these she disliked intensely. One day she was seen starting out in a pair which were properly kept for Sundays. She was stopped and asked why she had put on her best gloves. “Why,” she answered at once, “You see when I was getting ready I thought p’raps I should meet Jinks on the stairs—and he can’t bear to see me in those woolly gloves!”
Most people who have little children among their friends can remember similar instances, and these are just the cases where firm but sympathetic interference is necessary to prevent confusion between imagination and want of truth.
The Idea of Death.
Desire for a Legacy.
Possessed as they are of such great powers of imagination in many directions it is curious to notice how often children seem unable to realise or picture to themselves matters with which they will be familiar enough in after life. Take, for instance, the subject of death. A child will imagine the death of a doll. This is a fancy that occurs rarely, and the imagination goes as a rule no further. A child does not picture to itself the sorrow and loss commonly caused by the death of a real person. A little girl of three years old was sitting on her godfather’s knee. There was an immense affection between the two, and either would have missed the other sadly. An old man in the village known by sight to the little girl had lately died, and she had just remarked to her godfather quite as a bit of cheerful gossip, “Old John is dead.” The conversation then turned upon a certain gold watch which the little maiden desired more than anything in the world. Once more she was told, “No, I really can’t give it to you; I want it so badly myself.” Then followed these apparently callous words. “Your hair is rather white like old John’s. I s’pect you will be dead soon. Then can I have the watch?”
At first sight this sounds heartless and calculating, but as a matter of fact it was certainly not the former. The subject of death was too big for her imagination, that was all.
Small Imagination of Suffering.