The strange baby creeps quietly away and hides himself, while the
little philosopher follows him up and goes busily on with her manual
investigation.

But, to be sure, mind, wit and originality are just as rare in
children as in adults. All this, however, does not belong here, and is
leading me beyond the bounds of my purpose. For this sketch proposes
merely to portray an ideal, an ideal which I would ever keep before my
eyes, so that in this little artistic volume of beautiful and elegant
philosophy I may not wander away from the delicate line of propriety;
and so that you will forgive me in advance for the audacious liberties
that I am going to take, or at least you will be able to judge them
from a higher viewpoint.

Am I wrong, think you, in seeking for morality in children--for
delicacy and prettiness of thought and word?

Now look! Dear little Wilhelmina often finds inexpressible delight in
lying on her back and kicking her little legs in the air, unconcerned
about her clothes or about the judgment of the world. If Wilhelmina
does that, what is there that I may not do, since I, by Heaven, am a
man and under no obligation to be more modest than this most modest of
all feminine creatures? Oh, enviable freedom from prejudice! Do you,
too, dear friend, cast it from you, all the remnants of false modesty;
just as I have often torn off your odious clothes and scattered them
about in lovely anarchy. And if, perhaps, this little romance of my
life should seem to you too wild, just think to yourself: He is only a
child--and take his innocent wantonness with motherly forbearance and
let him caress you.