This is why I have said so much about laughter in the present book. To parents in especial knowledge of its true significance is important. They will not then fall into the mistake, too often made at present, of curbing their children’s instinctive tendency to laugh. Rather, they should deliberately seek to cultivate in them a keen sense of humour, and encourage them in merriment—not because it is a thing pleasing in itself, but because of its positive developmental value. Directly or indirectly to repress this basic instinct is always dangerous, leading to warpings of character, and at times undoubtedly contributing to the causation of that strangest and most misunderstood of human maladies, hysteria, to which we must now give some consideration. VII HYSTERIA IN CHILDHOOD A little girl, a pupil in a German school, made her appearance in class one morning with a bandage about her head. In answer to her teacher’s questions, she said she had been operated upon for ear trouble at a local hospital the day before. She described every detail of the operation, which, it seemed, had been exceedingly painful. For some time she wore the bandage to school every day, and frequently complained that her ear was still troubling her. Her teacher was properly sympathetic, and, chancing to meet one of the girl’s relatives, expressed her anxiety for the child, and the hope that she would soon be completely cured. “Cured?” repeated the relative. “Cured of what?” “Why, her ear trouble—the disease that has made it necessary for her to keep her head bandaged.” “But,” said the other, obviously puzzled, “I do not understand you. I did not know she had any ear trouble, and I have never seen her with a bandage.” It was the teacher’s turn to be astonished. She could not believe that the girl had been deceiving her; but, to get at the truth, she decided to take her immediately to the hospital where the operation was supposed to have been performed. There the child made her way about as if perfectly familiar with the place, and greeted in a friendly manner the surgeon in charge. He, however, did not seem to recognise her, and when told the circumstances by the teacher, said: “I can assure you I have never operated upon this girl.” He then made a thorough examination of her ear, and found it to be quite sound. After which, careful investigation developed the fact that her sole knowledge of the hospital was derived from detailed information given her by a friend, a lady who, curiously enough, had been operated upon a little while previously for precisely the trouble that the girl had attributed to herself. In other words, no doubt remained that she had for weeks been acting a lie, from what motive neither her teacher nor her parents could fathom.