Among the very friendly notes that have been sent to me, the following particularly conform to the above requirements. They were most kindly placed at my disposal by the Baroness von Taube, of Esthonia, daughter of the very widely and honorably known Count Keyserling. They relate to her first-born child, and come all of them from the mother herself:
In the first five months I heard from my son, when he cried, all the vowels. The sound ä was the first and most frequent. Of the consonants, on the other hand, I heard only g, which appeared after seven weeks. When the child was fretful he often cried gege; when in good humor he often repeated the syllables agu, agö, äou, ogö, eia; then l came in, ül.
The same sounds in the case of my daughter; but from her I heard, up to her tenth month, in spite of all my observation, no other consonants than g, b, w, rarely l, and finally m-sounds. With my son at the beginning of the seventh month an R-sound appeared—grr, grrr, plainly associated with d in dirr dirr. These sounds were decidedly sounds of discomfort, which expressed dissatisfaction, violent excitement, sleepiness; and they are made even now by the boy at four years of age when, e. g., he is in pain. In the ninth month dada and b, bab-a, bäb-ä are added. Agö also is often said, and ö still more often. This ö is already a kind of conscious attempt at speaking, for he uses it when he sees anything new, e. g., the dog Caro, which he observes with eager attention, as he does the cat, uttering aloud meanwhile ö, ö.
If any one is called, the child calls in a very loud voice, Ö, oe! First imitation. (Gestures have been imitated since the eighth month, and the making of grimaces in the child's presence had to be strictly forbidden.) Understanding for what is said is also present, for when one calls "Caro, Caro," in his hearing, he looks about him as if he were looking for the dog. In the tenth month he often repeats Pap-ba, but it has no significance.
If "Backe backe kuchen" ("bake cakes," corresponding to our "pat-a-cake") is said to him, he immediately pats his hands as if preparing bread for baking. In the eleventh month Pap-ba is dropped. He now says often dädädädä, and, when he is dull or excited (erregt) or sleepy, drin, drin. These r-sounds do not occur with my daughter; but since her tenth month she uses m-sounds, mämmä when she is sleepy or dull. The boy now stretches out his hand and beckons when he sees any one at a distance. At sight of anything new, he no longer says ö, but äda (twelfth month). He likes to imitate gestures with his arms and mouth; he observes attentively the movements of the lips of one who is speaking, sometimes touching at the same time the mouth of the speaker with his finger.
At ten months the first teeth came. In the eleventh month the child was for the first time taken out into the open air. Now the g-sounds again become prominent—aga, ga, gugag. The child begins to creep, but often falls, and while making his toilsome efforts keeps crying out in a very comical manner, äch, äch, äch!
At eleven and a half months a great advance. The child is now much out of doors, and enjoys seeing horses, cows, hens, and ducks. When he sees the hens he says gog, gog, and even utters some croaking sounds. He can also imitate at once the sound prrr when it is pronounced to him. If papa is pronounced for him (he has lost this word), he responds regularly wawa or wawawa. I have only once heard wauwau from him. If he hears anybody cough, he immediately gives a little imitative cough in fun (vol. i, p. 288), and this sounds very comical.
He makes much use of od, ädo, and äd, and this also when he sees pictures. When the boy had reached the age of a year, he was weaned; from that time his mental development was very rapid. If any one sings to him gi ga gack, he responds invariably gack.
He begins to adapt sounds to objects: imitation of sound is the chief basis of this adaptation. He calls the ducks with gäk, gäk, and imitates the cock, after a fashion, names the dog aua (this he got from his nurse), not only when he sees the animal, but also when he hears him bark. e. g., the child is playing busily with pasteboard boxes; the dog begins to bark outside of the house; the child listens and says aua. I roll his little carriage back and forth; he immediately says brrr, pointing to it with his hand; he wants to ride, and I have to put him in (he had heard burra, as a name for riding, from his nurse). When he sees a horse, he says prr (this has likewise been said for him).
I remark here that the notion that the child thinks out its own language—a notion I have often met with, held by people not well informed in regard to this matter—rests on defective observation. The child has part of his language given to him by others; part is the result of his own sound-imitations—of animals, e. g.—and part rests on mutilations of our language. At the beginning of the thirteenth month he suddenly names all objects and pictures, for some days, dodo, toto, which takes the place of his former ö; then he calls them niana, which he heard frequently, as it means "nurse" in Russian. Everything now is called niana: dirr continues to be the sign of extreme discomfort.