[21] To state the case more accurately, certain cell connections appear to be established by habitual traffic in certain thoughts; but there is so much danger of over-stating or of localising mental operations, that perhaps it is safe to convey the practical outcome of this line of research in a more or less figurative way--as, the wearing of a field-path; the making of a bridge; a railway, &c. CHAPTER II _ATTENTION._ “But now for the real object of this letter (does it take your breath away to get four sheets?) We want you to help us about Kitty. My husband and I are at our wits’ end, and should most thankfully take your wise head and kind heart into counsel. I fear we have been laying up trouble for ourselves and for our little girl. The ways of nature are, there is no denying it, very attractive in all young creatures, and it is so delightful to see a child do as ‘’tis its nature to,’ that you forget that Nature, left to herself, produces a waste, be it never so lovely. Our little Kitty’s might so easily become a wasted life. “But not to prose any more, let me tell you the history of Kitty’s yesterday--one of her days is like the rest, and you will be able to see where we want your help. “Figure to yourself the three little heads bent over ‘copy-books’ in our cheery schoolroom. Before a line is done, up starts Kitty. “‘Oh, mother, may I write the next copy--shell? “Shell” is so much nicer than--know, and I’m so tired of it.’ “‘How much have you done?’ “‘I have written it three whole times, mother, and I really _can’t_ do it any more! I think I could do--shell. “Shell” is so pretty!’ “By-and-by we read; but Kitty cannot read--can’t even spell the words (don’t scold us, we know it is quite wrong to spell in a reading lesson), because all the time her eyes are on a smutty sparrow on the topmost twig of the poplar; so she reads, ‘With, birdie!’ We do sums; a short line of addition is to poor Kitty a hopeless and an endless task. ‘Five and three make--nineteen,’ is her last effort, though she knows quite well how to add up figures. Half a scale on the piano, and then--eyes and ears for everybody’s business but her own. Three stitches of hemming, and idle fingers plait up the hem or fold the duster in a dozen shapes. I am in the midst of a thrilling history talk: ‘So the Black Prince----’ ‘Oh, mother, do you think we shall go to the sea this year? My pail is quite ready, all but the handle, but I can’t find my spade _anywhere_!’