fist in anger, and calls or drives away his dog simply by the tone in which he speaks.
But feelings and desires are not the only things we wish to communicate. Early in life we begin to acquire knowledge and learn to think, and then we feel the need of a better language.
Suppose, for instance, you have formed an idea of a day; could you express this by a tone, a look, or a gesture?
If you wish to tell me the fact that yesterday was cloudy, or that the days are shorter in winter than in summer, you find it wholly impossible to do this by means of Natural language.
To communicate, then, your thoughts, or even the mental pictures we have called ideas, you need a language more nearly perfect.
This language is made up of words.
These words you learn from your mothers, and so Word language is your mother-tongue. You learn them, also, from your friends and teachers, your playmates and companions, and you learn them by reading; for words, as you know, may be