“Naughtiness is mine,” said Mr. Noun; “the word naughtiness, for it is the name of the something bad that the child feels.”
“And when it is kind?”
“Kindness is mine, because it is the name of the something kind and nice it feels there. I have a good many more words that end in ness, and that are the names of things you can find out about, and talk about, though you cannot tell what shape or colour or smell or taste they have; like cleverness, silliness, idleness, ugliness, quickness.”
“I see,” said Serjeant Parsing. “You cannot tell what shape or colour cleverness is, but you can soon find out whether a boy has any of it by the way in which he does his lessons.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Noun; “and the names of his lessons are mine too, for the lessons are things that you can learn about; geography, history, writing, arithmetic, all these names belong to me.”
“Really Mr. Noun,” said Serjeant Parsing, “you do claim a big share of words. You will be making out that the names of persons belong to you next.”
“So they do,” replied Mr. Noun; “no matter who the persons are, their names belong to me. I have the name of every person in the world from good Queen Victoria on her throne to the raggedest beggar-boy in the street. There is not a child in Schoolroom-shire whose name is not a noun. And I have not the names of people only, but of all pet dogs, cats, birds, horses, or rabbits: Fido, Tabby, Bright-eye, Tiny, Shag, and any other pet names you can think of. Indeed, I am very particular about such names. I call them proper nouns, and expect them always to be written with a capital letter.”
“Proper nouns?” repeated Serjeant Parsing. “Then what are the other nouns called?”
“They are only common nouns,” answered Mr. Noun, carelessly.
“Then all names are common nouns, except the names of persons or animals, are they?” asked Serjeant Parsing.