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An indescribably sweet breeze blows over the friendships of childhood. They are tender, delicate, pale blue petals that tremble with each stir of the childish soul and whose roots even then already penetrate down to the deep layers in which inherited instincts and tempting desires fertilise the soil of the passions. How different it all is in the case of friendship. Here the child can follow its natural inclinations. It can choose according to its own standards without having to listen to the dictates of its educators. Envy, egoism, covetousness, cunning, distrust, all these feelings steal their way into the childhood friendship, and finally friendship degenerates into what Moebius has so aptly named Phantom-practice. Childhood friendship is the school of love. Without such friendship the child is impoverished and forever loses the power to love.