fetched the clock again and said: "Look!
what does the little thick pointer say now?" She tapped an uncertain
"no." So I explained once more and then said: "Now tell me!" and she
answered this time, "50."

I stood the clock on the ground in front of her and questioned her
twice more in the course of the day--correct replies being given. I
also left the clock standing near her for the rest of the day, for I
wanted the flight of time to become impressed on her, and her eye was
bound to rest on the dial now and again during the course of the day.
Her answers were invariably right now for, by way of test, I inquired:
"How many minutes are there in half an hour?" And she replied: "30."
And again: "How many minutes has a quarter of an hour--that is, an hour
divided by 4?" And she answered: "15." She also showed much interest in
all this, for she sat as still as could be, listening attentively to
all my explanations. And I kept her interest alive by always telling
her "what nice new things Lola would be able to learn," and at this she
was visibly pleased.

The next day I made casual remarks as to the time of day out loud, and
all this day's answers were equally good. I now saw that she had
grasped the essentials--so that I could put the clock away, and there
is not another in my rooms, the nearest being a big one standing in the
kitchen which is on the ground floor. I never carry my watch, leaving
it in a drawer--and generally forgetting to wind it up, so that if I do
not ask, I seldom know what the time is. I have no sense of time
whatever myself, so that to me it may seem either long or
short--according to what I may be doing. I have always envied people
who possessed this sense of absolute certainty in guessing the time--it
is not a common gift. I make this remark "parenthetically" in my desire
for trying to elucidate the causes which lie at the back of the
"feeling for time."

On the third day after my first explanations I said to Lola in the
course of the morning: "Tell me what time it is. I daresay you know
without seeing the clock!" To which she answered "Yes!" "Then tell me
the hour first," I said, and she rapped: "10;" "And now the minutes?"
"35." I then went downstairs and found that the kitchen clock pointed
to 10.30, but I was told that it was not quite exact, so I telephoned
to the Post Office, and inquired the correct time--asking again in the
afternoon when it was 4.17. I then said to Lola: "Tell me the hour?