I came and stayed with Mabel Watson Payne on Saturday afternoon and evening while her parents went out. There were no Christmas toys scattered about the place. All the news toys and games and puzzles and art supplies had found homes and had been put away.
But after her parents left, it was Mabel's great desire to get everything out and empty all the neatly labeled boxes and coat the entire living room floor with jigsaw pieces and little animals and pretend cooking utensils and dress-up props. Once sufficient chaos was created, we played with just about everything, but in cycles – as determined by some system known only to Mabel herself.
At one point she got independently interested in the magnetic fishing game below. I happen to know this is not even a new toy. It is an old toy. But its appeal enjoyed a leap anyway.
