“Yes,” answered Mr. Noun, “the name of everything.”
“What? Do you mean to say that the name of everything I can see round me now is one of your words, and is called a noun?”
“I do indeed,” said Mr. Noun. “The name of everything you can see, or touch, or taste, or smell, or hear, belongs to me.”
“What,” said Serjeant Parsing, “is this desk yours then, and the ink and the pen and the window?”
“The words that name them are all mine,” said Mr. Noun. “Of course I have nothing to do with the things. No gentleman in Grammar-land has anything to do with things, only with words; and I assure you, you cannot name anything that you can see, or touch, or taste, or smell, or hear, without using one of my words. Desk, pen, ink, window, water, wine, fire, smoke, light, lightning, thunder, a taste, a smell, a noise, all these words belong to me, and are called nouns.”
“I see,” said Serjeant Parsing; “you can hear thunder, and smell smoke, and taste wine. And I suppose dinner and tea are yours also?”
“Certainly, the words breakfast, dinner, and tea, are mine,” replied Mr. Noun. “The things are what the people live upon in Schoolroom-shire, but they could not name what they eat without using my words. The servant would have to make signs to let people know that dinner was ready; she could not say so unless I allowed her to use my noun dinner.”
“Well,” said Serjeant Parsing, “if you have the name of everything we can see, touch, taste, smell, or hear, all I can say is, I hope you are satisfied, and do not claim any more words besides.”
“Indeed,” replied Mr. Noun, drawing himself proudly up, “I have not mentioned nearly all my words. I told you at first that I have the name of everything, and there are plenty of things that you know about, although you cannot see, or touch, or taste, or smell, or hear them. For instance, love, or anger, or happiness. You can feel them in your heart, and know they are there, although you cannot touch them with your fingers, or taste them with your tongue, or find them out by any of your five senses.”
“Do you mean to say, then,” asked Serjeant Parsing, “that when a child feels naughty in its heart——?”