The attempts at imitation, too, are somewhat more successful, especially the attention is more strained. When, e. g., in the fifty-first week, I sang something for the child, he gazed fixedly more than a minute, with immovable countenance, without winking, at my mouth, and then moved his own tongue. Correct repetition of a syllable pronounced to him is, however, very rare. When I laugh, and the child observes it, he laughs likewise, and then crows, with strong abdominal pressure. This same loud expression of joy is exhibited when the child unexpectedly sees his parents at a distance. This peculiar pressure, with strong expiration, is in general associated with feelings of pleasure. The child almost seems to delight in the discovery of his own abdominal pressure, when he produces by means of it the very high crowing sounds with the vowel i or a genuine grunt.

Of articulate sounds, syllables, and combinations, made without suggestion from others in the twelfth month, I have caught the following particularly with accuracy: haja, jajajajaja, aja, njaja, naïn-hopp, ha-a, pa-a, dēwär, han-na, mömma, allda, alldaï, apa-u-a, gägä, ka, ladn. Besides, the earlier atta variously modified; no longer dada.

More important than such almost meaningless sound-formations, among which, by the way, appears for the first time w is the now awakened ability to discriminate between words heard. The child turns around when his name is spoken in a loud voice; he does this, it is true, at other loud sounds also, but then with a different expression. When he hears a new tone, a new noise, he is surprised, opens his eyes wide, and holds his mouth open, without moving.

By frequent repetition of the words, "Give the hand," with the holding out of the hand, I have brought the child, in the fifty-second week, to the point of obeying this command of himself—a sure proof that he distinguishes words heard. Another child did the same thing in the seventh month. In this we can not fail to see the beginning of communication by means of ordinary language, but this remained a one-sided affair till past the third half-year, the child being simply receptive. During this whole period, moreover, from birth on, special sounds, particularly "sch (Eng., sh), ss, st, pst," just the ones not produced by the child, had a remarkable effect of a quieting character. If the child heard them when he was screaming, he became quiet, as when he heard singing or instrumental music.

In the first weeks of the second year of life, the child behaves just as awkwardly as ever in regard to saying anything that is said to him, but his attention has become more lively. When anything is said to him for him to say—e. g., papa, mama, atta, tatta—he looks at the speaker with eyes wide open and mouth half open, moves the tongue and the lips, often very slightly, often vigorously, but can not at the same time make his voice heard, or else he says, frequently with an effort of abdominal pressure, attaï. Earlier, even in the forty-fifth week, he had behaved in much the same way, but to the word "papa," pronounced to him, he had responded rrra. Once only, I remember, papa was repeated correctly, in a faint tone, on the three hundred and sixty-ninth day, almost as by one in a dream. With this exception, no word could be repeated on command, notwithstanding the fact that the faculty of imitation was already active in another department. The syllables most frequently uttered at this stage were nja, njan, dada, atta, mama, papaï, attaï, na-na-na, hatta, meenĕ-meenĕ-meenĕ, mömm, mömma, ao-u.

Of these syllables, na-na regularly denotes a desire, and the arms are stretched out in connection with it; mama is referred to the mother perhaps in the fifty-fourth week, on account of the pleasure she shows at the utterance of these syllables, but they are also repeated mechanically without any reference to her; atta is uttered now and then at going away, but at other times also. His joy—e. g., at recognizing his mother at a distance—the child expresses by crowing sounds, which have become stronger and higher than they were, but which, can not be clearly designated; the nearest approach to a representation of them is ăhijă. Affirmation and negation may already be recognized by the tone of voice alone. The signification of the cooing and the grunting sounds remains the same. The former indicates desire of food; the latter the need of relieving the bowels. As if to exercise the vocal cords, extraordinarily high tones are now produced, which may be regarded as signs of pleasure in his own power. An imperfect language has thus already been formed imperceptibly, although no single object is as yet designated by a sound assigned to it alone. The articulation has made progress, for on the three hundred and sixty-eighth day appeared the first distinct s, in the syllable ssi; quite incidentally, to be sure.

The most important advance consists in the now awakened understanding of spoken words. The ability to learn, or the capability of being trained, has emerged almost as if it had come in a night.

For it did not require frequent repetition of the question, "How tall is the child?" along with holding up his arms, in order to make him execute this movement every time that he heard the words, "Wie gross?" ("How tall?") or "ooss," nay, even merely "oo." It was easy, too, to induce him to take an ivory ring, lying before him attached to a thread, into his hand, and reach it to me prettily when I held out my hand and said, "Where is the ring?" and, after it had been grasped, said, "Give." In the same way, the child holds the biscuit, which he is carrying to his mouth, to the lips of the person who says pleasantly to him, "Give"; and he has learned to move his head sidewise hither and thither when he hears "No, no." If we say to him, when he wants food or an object he has seen, "Bitte, bitte" (say "Please"), he puts his hands together in a begging attitude, a thing which seemed at first somewhat hard for him to learn. Finally, he had at this time been taught to respond to the question, "Where is the little rogue?" by touching the side of his head with his hand (a movement he had often made of himself before).

From this it appears beyond a doubt that now (rather late in comparison with other children) the association of words heard with certain movements is established, inasmuch as upon acoustic impressions—at least upon combined impressions of hearing and of sight, which are repeated in like fashion—like movements follow, and indeed follow invariably with the expression of great satisfaction on the countenance. Yet this connection between the sensorium and the motorium is not yet stable, for there follows not seldom upon a command distinctly uttered, and without doubt correctly understood, the wrong movement—paramimy. Upon the question, "How tall?" the hands are put together for "Please," and the like. Once when I said, "How tall?" the child raised his arms a moment, then struck himself on the temples, and thereupon put his hands together, as if "rogue," and then "please," had been said to him. All three movements followed with the utmost swiftness, while the expression of face was that of a person confused, with wavering look. Evidently the child had forgotten which movement belonged with the "tall," and performed all the three tricks he had learned, confounding them one with another. This confounding of arm-raising, head-shaking, giving of the ring, putting the hands together, touching the head, is frequent. It is also to be noticed that some one of these five tricks is almost invariably performed by the child when some new command is given to him that he does not understand, as he perceives that something is required of him—the first conscious act of obedience, as yet imperfect.

In the fourteenth month there was no great increase in the number of independent utterances of sound that can be represented by syllables of the German language. Surprising visual impressions, like the brilliant Christmas-tree, and the observation of new objects, drew from the pleasurably excited child, without his having touched anything, almost the same sounds that he at other times made when in discontented mood, ŭä, mŭä, only softer; mömö and mama, and also papa are frequent expressions of pleasure. When the child is taken away, he often says ta-ta loudly, also, atta in a whisper. There can no longer be a doubt that in these syllables is now expressed simply the idea of "going." The labial brrr, the so-called "coachman's R," was practiced by the child, of his own accord, with special eagerness, and indeed was soon pronounced so cleverly that educated adults can not produce it in such purity and especially with so prolonged an utterance. The only new word is dakku and daggn, which is often uttered pleasantly with astonishing rapidity, in moments of enjoyment, e. g., when the child is eating food that tastes good. But it is also uttered so often without any assignable occasion, that a definite meaning can hardly be attributed to it, unless it be that of satisfaction. For it is never heard when the least thing of a disagreeable sort has happened to the child. The probability is obvious that we have here a case of imitation of the "Thanks" (Danke) which he has not seldom heard. But the modifications taggn, attagn, attatn, pass over into the word, undoubtedly the original favorite, taï, ataï.