"Are yours more contented--more interested--happier ?" Then I thought, as in truth I never had thought before, of the dull, bored children I had seen, whining; "What can I do now ?"; of the little groups and gangs hanging about; of the value of some one strong spirit who possessed initiative and would "start something"; of the children's parties and the onerous duties of the older people set to "amuse the children"; also of that troubled ocean of misdirected activity we call "mischief," the foolish, destructive, sometimes evil things done by unoccupied children.
"No," said I grimly.

"I don't think they are." The Herland child was born not only into a world carefully prepared, full of the most fascinating materials and opportunities to learn, but into the society of plentiful numbers of teachers, teachers born and trained, whose business it was to accompany the children along that, to us, impossible thing--the royal road to learning.
There was no mystery in their methods.

Being adapted to children it was at least comprehensible to adults.

I spent many days with the little ones, sometimes with Ellador, sometimes without, and began to feel a crushing pity for my own childhood, and for all others that I had known.
The houses and gardens planned for babies had in them nothing to hurt--no stairs, no corners, no small loose objects to swallow, no fire--just a babies' paradise.

They were taught, as rapidly as feasible, to use and control their own bodies, and never did I see such sure-footed, steady-handed, clear-headed little things.