It takes a great deal to make him able to sit up at all--only in the most comfortable chair can it be accomplished--if the least obstacle is encountered he can only give way.
And yet this pitiable being makes no appeal to the spirit of helpfulness.

Do what you can for him it is impossible to raise him up, the only thing is to go down with him to his own level and stay there.
The Golliwog is at heart a pessimist.
In contrast with this the presence of an altar or nursery shrine, though not a plaything, gives a different tone to play--a tone of joy and heavenliness that go down into the soul and take root there to grow into something lasting and beautiful.

There are flowers to be brought, and lights, and small processions, and evening recollection with quietness of devotion, with security in the sense of heavenly protection, with the realization of the "great cloud of witnesses" who are around to make play safe and holy, and there is through it all the gracious call to things higher, to be strong, to be unselfish, to be self-controlled, to be worthy of these protectors and friends in heaven.
There is another side also to the question of nursery play, and that is what may be called the play-values of the things provided.

Mechanical toys are wonderful, but beyond an artificial interest which comes mostly from the elders, there is very little lasting delight in them for children.

They belong to the system of over-indulgence and over-stimulation which measures the value of things by their price.
Their worst fault is that they do all there is to be done, while the child looks on and has nothing to do.