“I cannot tell you. I only know that these are handy symbols of root-ideas. Musicians would comprehend a mental condition of definite thought without syllabic form. Mendelssohn wrote: ‘It is exactly at that moment when language is unable to voice the experiences of the soul that the vocation of music opens to us; if all that passes in us were capable of expression in words I should write no more music.’ Wagner goes to the extreme of assigning a measured musical phrase to a given idea. Were I not deficient in the parrot’s skill of sound-reproduction, I could most certainly converse, in crude suggestion, with many animals. What is speech? Merely the trick of conveying ideas by articulate sounds. Can it be affirmed that man alone is gifted with the power? I once heard a gamekeeper calling a corn-crake by using a little mechanical instrument. The bird came, in response to the fancied cry of its mate. It was shot for its credulity. Were my vocal cords differently shaped I could have warned it against danger. Is not that speech?” “Unless I am greatly mistaken, you are expounding a new thesis of life, Grier,” said the American. “Is there any limit? Do you go down the scale? How about insects, reptiles, fishes?” Karl paused a little while. “Would that I might answer!” he cried at last. “Who am I that I should add unknown words to the sparse total which serves human needs? Think what it means, that list of Müller’s! Six score root-ideas, from which we have named 245,000 species of living animals, classified nearly 100,000 fossils, produced the works of Shakespeare and Milton! Yet I swear to you that many a time, in India, lying awake and listening to the croaking of innumerable frogs, I could distinguish the one final shriek of agony of a frog seized by a snake from the million-voiced chorus of its fellows.” “Are these unknown languages always recognizable? If a dog yelps because he has been booted, do you hear him say: ‘Stop that, you two-legged ruffian! What have I done, I should like to know?’ If so, you must have a lively time of it at a cattle-fair, for instance.” Karl laughed. He rose, pulled down the blind, and switched on the electric light. “I am quite serious,” protested his friend. “For goodness’ sake don’t be vexed if my questions seem idiotic. When I came here to-night I did not expect you to play ‘Hail Columbia’ with all my preconceived notions.” “Vexed! Why should I be vexed with so strenuous a listener? No, I do not gather up all these animal utterances, else I should go mad. The exercise of my peculiar faculties requires effort. I am like a loaded camera. To take a picture I must raise the shutter.” “You speak in the plural. Was your description of Manhattan Beach based on some other intuition?” “Yes. If you care to listen I will tell you some strange things. But first I must have your pledge of inviolable secrecy.”