SONS AND DAUGHTERS 
By 
SIDONIE MATZNER GRUENBERG 
Author of Your Child Today and Tomorrow 
NEW YORK 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1916 Copyright, 1916, 
BY 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
Published April, 1916 
THE QUINN A BOOEN CO. PRESS 
RAHWAY, N. J. CONTENTS 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
PAGE 
The Day of the Child 3 
The Mother as Teacher 8 
The Pretense of Parental Perfection 12 
Selfishness and Sacrifice 16 
The Danger of Too Little Knowledge 20 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
Health and Disposition 29 
Nervous Days 33 
Restless for Need of Rest 37 
Forcible Feeding 41 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
No Two Alike 47 
Your Child and the Average 51 
Girls and Boys 55 
The Girl’s Outlook 61 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
The Unfinished Child 67 
The Passing Ideals 71 
The Dabbling Adolescent 75 
Watchful Waiting 79 
Grading the Child’s Temptations 85 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
The Wondering Child 91 
Example and Precept 96 
The Lazy Child 100 IV 
CONTENTS 
PAGE 
The Young Miser 104 
The Sensibility of the Child 108 
Combating Cruelty 112 
Being Obstinate 116 
The Stubborn Scatterbrain 120 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
To Fight or Not to Fight 127 
Cultivating Indirection 131 
Playing Soldier 135 
Children and the War 139 
Substitutes for Fighting 143 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
The Craving for Adventure 151 
The Child’s Chance for Spontaneity 155 
Mice at Play 159 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
Control of Habit Formation 167 
Rules and Exceptions 172 
The Mind and Character of the Child 176 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
Toys for Activity 183 
Books and the Child 192 
The Arts in the Life of the Child 198 
Keeping Pets 203 
Appreciation of Effort 207 
Children’s Parties 211 
Work and Play as the Measure of Time .... 215 
Cultivating Hobbies 219 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
Being Good and Being Bad 225 
Encouragement and Neglect 233 PAGE 
Equity Among Brothers and Sisters 237 
The Parent as Arbiter 241 
The Child and Delegated Authority 245 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
The “ Natural ” Method in Punishment .... 251 
Principles of Punishment 256 
Bargain Counter Goodness 261 
The Time and Place 266 
What the Child Thinks He Wants 270 
Interest and Discipline 274 
The Everlasting Nay 278 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
The Child’s Manners 285 
Impudence True and False 289 
The Boy’s Taste for Society 293 
Children’s Friendships 297 
Parents Versus Teachers 301 
Bugaboos and Friends 306 
Children and Money 310 
Uncontrolled Child Influences 319 
CONTENTS 
V MODERN PARENTHOOD THE DAY OF THE CHILD 
This has been called the day of the child. 
Within two decades various reform movements have 
forced the attention of the public upon the child. 
Whether it is the care of infants, health supervision, 
and preventive hygiene, or playgrounds, child labor, 
and improved schooling facilities, the conservation and 
the amelioration of child life seem to be the central 
concern of thousands of people working together in 
societies and committees. Not alone parents and 
teachers, who may be said to have a direct and pro- 
fessional interest in the welfare of children; but editors 
and publicists, scientists and statesmen, are giving to 
the child an amount of thought that would justify the 
conclusion that the child is either the most important 
factor or the most perplexing problem in modern life. 
From a political no less than from a humanitarian or 
sentimental point of view, we are realizing the impor- 
tance of providing for all the children adequate oppor- 
tunities for fullest development. 
More than ever before are efforts being made to 
help children in all possible ways, to direct their physi- 
cal and spiritual growth according to the laws of their 
nature on the one hand, and according to their deepest 
interests on the other. It is a mistake, however, to 
suppose that everything which is being done and advo- 
cated represents a distinct addition to the service in 
the interests of children. MODERN PARENTHOOD 
In the first place, there is more “ publicity ” in these 
matters now, so that we hear relatively more about each 
thing that is done. An alderman was complaining at 
his club about the annoyance caused him by delegations 
of citizens coming to petition for various things. He 
said that a delegation from a mothers’ club had come 
the day before to urge the establishment of a play- 
ground ; then a charity organization had petitioned 
for a playground; then a ministers’ association had 
done the same thing. Fifteen distinct delegations, he 
said, had petitioned for playgrounds. “ But what can 
a city of this size do with all those playgrounds ? ” 
asked a visitor. “ Oh,” said the alderman, “ they all 
want the same playground.” And it is much the same 
way with what we hear about child welfare. 
In the second place, much of what is nowadays urged 
for the welfare of children is in the nature of a substi- 
tute to take the place of some advantage of which the 
children have been deprived. In the cities, especially, 
where most of the thinking and fretting and talking 
about the child takes place, he seems to be “ always in 
the way,” to use the words of the sentimental song. 
Our city houses are not surrounded by trees and open 
lots for climbing and romping—they have not even 
attics to use on rainy days as playrooms and work- 
shops. We have to think of the children’s play because 
they have been robbed of the chance to play by the 
encroachments of the growing cities. “ When we were 
young ” the cities had no playgrounds, nor did they 
need any. Today we are called upon to supply them, 
because our children cannot get along without them. THE DAY OF THE CHILD 
5 
Organized play seems to older people an absurd 
contradiction in terms, for the thought of play suggests 
freedom and abandon. But play is free only in the 
sense that it is not carried on under compulsion. As 
children grow older they instinctively desire play in 
the form of games that involve considerable organiza- 
tion and team work. But the modern child has lost the 
art of play. If you should try to regulate the play of 
children who have all outdoors, and unbroken tradi- 
tions of children’s games, and the enthusiasm of the 
carefree youngsters of certain rural and semi-rural 
districts, your interference would probably not be 
wholesome. But to neglect the children who “ hang 
around ” because they don’t know what to do with 
themselves, and would have no opportunity to do it if 
they did know, is certainly not meeting their needs. 
The traditions that carried the rules of the games and 
the spirit of the games, have somehow been broken, and 
children need again to be taught what to play and how 
to play. 
Workshops in schools and in homes seem to many 
people rather artificial. But they do not realize that, 
a generation or two ago, nearly everybody had an op- 
portunity to become acquainted with various kinds of 
tools and materials through direct contact and trial. 
Theoretically we realize the educative value of these 
experiences with materials and forces, but practically 
we neglect the children’s needs and then wonder that 
they grow up indifferent to work, or even hostile to it. 
To bring twigs and butterflies and tadpoles into a 
schoolroom or into the home as a means of becoming 6 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
acquainted with “ nature ” does seem rather stilted. 
Certainly the children who live in the country do not 
need to have this done for them. But the children in 
the cities must either get their “ nature ” by way of 
samples and occasional excursions, or not get it at all. 
The great organized efforts being made to further 
the welfare of children do, indeed, often urge upon the 
public new activities for the benefit of babies and of 
older children. Pure milk and fresh air for tenement 
babies, for example, are new things in the history of the 
world. Yet from another point of view, these too are 
largely substitutes for what practically every child 
formerly had as a matter of course. The conditions 
of crowded living bring a lack of air and a super- 
abundance of disease germs, and thus make the new 
methods of treating children necessary. But still they 
are substitutes, and not altogether new additions to the 
burden of looking after children. 
At the same time we must recognize that our knowl- 
edge of the factors influencing child life—on the mental 
and moral sides, as well as on the physical side—has 
increased so rapidly during the past generation, that 
it would really be stupid of us not to make use of some 
of this knowledge. 
And it is not difficult to get some measure of the 
value of this knowledge in a practical way. In the 
matter of health, we like to believe that the old times 
were also the good times. But wherever there are re- 
liable records we can see that children are sick less 
than was formerly the case, and the death rates have 
been cut down in a most startling manner. The gain THE DAY OF THE CHILD 
7 
is to be seen on the mental and moral sides as well. 
Scientific principles applied to the play and work of 
children, the best knowledge applied to the more formal 
education of children, all bring returns that would have 
been thought impossible a short time ago. With all 
this knowledge, the parent is called upon to do more 
and to keep more in mind, so that the child occupies a 
larger place in our everyday thought. 
This is the day of hope and promise. Having built 
up a civilization of steam-heated flats with kitchenettes 
we are at last forced to take notice that our architects 
were bachelors and made no provisions for the precious— 
though sometimes inconvenient—little dears. And this 
is true not only of our houses, but of all our modern 
arrangements. 
We must give a great deal of serious thought to the 
problem of providing for our children artificial condi- 
tions that will compensate so far as possible for the 
opportunities of which they have been deprived. The 
educational toys and playground apparatus have to a 
very large extent not been added to what children had 
before, but have for the most part been devised to take 
the place of what our civilization has taken from the 
child. And to know their needs, we must study the 
children as thoroughly and as systematically at least 
as the dog fancier studies the animals with which he is 
most concerned. 
Children are getting more, much more, than they 
have ever had before, but not so much as we think we 
are giving them, and perhaps, in view of all that is 
known, not as much as they need. MOTHER AS TEACHER 
As our conception of the dignity and responsibility 
of motherhood rises, we come to expect of women a 
larger and larger share in the education of their 
children. It has been taken for granted that the 
physical care of the child, and to some extent the moral 
training—at least in so far as this grows out of the 
usual relations of the home—should be provided by the 
mother. But there has been noticeable a tendency to 
demand of the mother more and more mental training, 
more of the sort of instruction for which we usually 
provide schools. Some have even gone so far as to 
advocate that all of the child’s instruction, until well 
past the primary grades, be furnished by the mother 
herself. 
This point of view apparently assumes that every 
woman naturally has the kinds of ability that are essen- 
tial to successful imparting of knowledge—or at any 
rate, that the mother’s “ instincts ” make up for any 
shortcomings in this direction. But wide observation 
brings out the fact that the knack of getting along with 
young children, while possessed by very many women, 
is by no means a universal characteristic of the sex. 
Moreover, it is conspicuously absent in many women 
who are eminently qualified in several other directions 
to be excellent mothers. 
Mrs. Swift had been for years a successful teacher MOTHER AS TEACHER 
9 
of singing. As her little girl was growing up, she 
thought it would be fine to do all the teaching for the 
little one herself. She found to her sorrow, however, 
that she was temperamentally unfitted to carry out 
effectively this self-imposed task. While she had no 
difficulty in teaching adults, and children in the reason- 
ing age, she was quite unable to assume that sprightli- 
ness of imagination, that playfulness of spirit, so essen- 
tial for reaching the interest and attention of the young 
child. She found that the love-task bored her—and 
that it also bored the child. 
That there are many women, as there are many men, 
who have what may be called a natural talent for teach- 
ing, cannot be questioned. And the children of such 
people are no doubt fortunate, at least so far as con- 
cerns the acquisition of various kinds of information. 
But for such women to turn about and say to the other 
women: “You can do what we have done,” is to 
betray a fundamental misconception as to the true 
nature of the relation between the teacher and the 
pupil. Such women, since their talents are of great 
value to society, and comparatively rare, should be 
utilized so far as may be, as teachers for others as well 
as for their own children. 
We must recognize also that there are many women 
who have special talents in other directions. It may 
therefore be questioned whether there is not, from a 
social point of view, more to be gained by the develop- 
ment of such talents on the part of every woman who 
has them, than by allowing every woman to become a 
fourth rate teacher of her own children. There is no 10 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
doubt that during the early years, when the mother 
should be with the child a great deal, she will often 
have the opportunity to assist in the mental develop- 
ment. In general, mothers have not yet begun to take 
advantage of this opportunity; this opens a wide field 
for thought and effort. But we must be on our guard 
against the faddists who would lead us to look for 
marvelous results from the application of a few simple 
rules. 
Aside, however, from the mother’s having or not 
having the ability to impart the information required 
by the young children, there is another important mat- 
ter to consider—and that is the child himself. Even 
before he gets to be three years old, ordinarily, the 
child is in need of companionship; he must have about 
him children of nearly his own age. This does not 
mean that he must be thrown into a vast crowd, wherein 
he may lose his identity. Nor is the alternative to the 
crowd a carefully guarded and sterile isolation. In 
groups of moderate size the child learns not only social 
adjustments, but a great deal of the essential knowledge 
about people and things, which is just as important as 
anything his mother can teach him. 
Although you may send your child to school, or 
even to kindergarten, there will still remain a great deal 
for the home to do. The home is the place where the 
child gets most of his moral training. And even on the 
intellectual side, what the child accomplishes in school 
will be very largely determined by the background 
supplied by the home. It is here that the mother can 
most profitably make her contact with the mental life MOTHER AS TEACHER 
11 
of the child. By being a sympathetic guide to the 
child’s bewildered wanderings in the world of mystery 
around him, she can supplement the school to good 
purpose. She should be the one to know his needs and 
his capacities better than any other person; and she 
should also make it her business to know the resources 
available to meet those needs. Through her companion- 
ship in the fields or in the museums, in the streets or in 
the library, she will continue her own education while 
helping the child to find his way. 
The ideal mother must be the child’s best guide, 
philosopher, and friend. She may also be a good cook; 
but if she is not, never mind; there are many good cooks 
to be had. She may be able to nurse one through 
sickness; it is well to be able to do that, for children 
will get sick. But if she is not, there are trained nurses 
who can do it better. She may know as much as 
an encyclopedia. That’s always convenient; but if 
not, there are trained teachers to impart information. 
But whether she has all of these accomplishments or 
not (and a training for motherhood would include 
something in each of these departments) she is certainly 
not an expert in all. Yet she must always be for the 
child the source of counsel in meeting life’s trials, and 
a refuge from life’s tribulations. THE PRETENSE OF PARENTAL PERFECTION 
To err is human, as any healthy child can find out 
for himself rather early in life. But most parents seem 
to be involved in a conspiracy to maintain the doctrine 
that to err is childish. They will sometimes go to des- 
perate lengths to uphold the pretense that adults—or 
at least parents—can do no wrong, that they are prac- 
tically infallible. 
Every adult who has to deal with younger people 
feels a certain authority and “ discipline ” to be abso- 
lutely necessary for maintaining right relations. And 
there is the feeling that authority would be weakened 
by the slightest intimation that the adult had committed 
an error. For many people it is quite impossible to 
acknowledge frankly that they have made a mistake. 
The result of this attitude, however, instead of 
strengthening authority, actually destroys the respect 
which we wish the young to have for the old. 
Children do not believe that anyone is infallible, in 
spite of all the pretense. There will of necessity be 
errors of judgment, there will be misunderstanding; 
but it is not necessary to add to these dishonesty. If 
you make a mistake in your dealings with the child, 
you will naturally give occasion for ill-feeling; but if 
you acknowledge your mistake as soon as you discover 
it, there will be a reconciliation. With the repetition 
of the evidence that you are human and sincere, the 
12 PRETENSE OF PARENTAL PERFECTION 
13 
child will come to a realization that you are always 
acting for the best, even when you make mistakes. 
Then, though misunderstandings arise, there will still 
be respect and confidence. 
Even with very young children, it is well to deal in 
a thoroughly frank and honest manner. I wras much 
impressed by this attitude toward a little girl of about 
two and a half years, on the part of a neighbor. The 
child wanted to go out to play in the grass, but as it 
had rained in the morning, the mother forbade her 
leaving the porch. “ No, my dear,” she said, “ you 
must not go in the grass, because it is wet.” The child 
cried; the mother tried to soothe her, and presently 
all was quiet again. Some minutes later the mother 
had occasion to cross the lawn, and putting her hand 
on the grass found that it was sufficiently dry. She 
went back to the child and said, “ Mother made a mis- 
take. She thought the grass was still wet. But it is 
dry enough, and you may go out to play now.” 
Of course this child was too young to understand, 
but she no doubt had a vague feeling that she was being 
fairly dealt with. And it is an accumulation of such 
feelings that will finally form the child’s habitual atti- 
tude toward the mother’s judgments. 
Only too frequently do parents vent the annoyance 
caused by business or domestic irritations upon the 
innocent head of the child who happens to come along 
with some indifferent request at the critical moment. 
It is so easy to say “ Don’t bother me now,” or “ Run 
along, don’t you see I am busy?” It was a large- 
minded mother that apologized to her son for scolding 14 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
him unfairly after a scene with an impudent cook. He 
had come in with his friend after skating, at the inop- 
portune time, to ask for jam and bread, and to deposit 
the wet skates on the hall carpet. The scolding would 
have destroyed the appetite of ordinary people; in this 
case it only made Joe feel very sorry for himself. But 
later his mother said, “ I am very sorry, Joe, for the 
way I treated you this afternoon. I was irritated and 
tired, but I did not mean to be rude.” Then Joe was 
so sorry for his mother, he just went up and hugged 
her, and forgot to be sorry for himself. 
The cases in which parents misuse their authority, 
judge children falsely, forget to keep their promises, 
or otherwise act unfairly are common enough. How 
common is it for parents to apologize to their children? 
Most people would think offhand that to apologize 
would be to weaken our position. But the very opposite 
is true. 
As Edward Howard Griggs says, 
“ Suppose the parent acknowledges his fault and apolo- 
gizes for it: when he turns to the further question of the 
child’s impudence his hands are strengthened. He meets 
the child on the plane of moral equality in reference to 
right action, the only plane on which any moral question 
can be solved. The child straightens up; it is no longer 
five years old or three feet high, but a human spirit to 
whom you have said—by your action, not in words—‘ My 
child, I see in you a spirit intrusted through some mystery 
of the universe for a little time to my care, and I recognize 
it as my earnest duty to give you whatever treatment will 
help you out into the sanest and sweetest life.’ PRETENSE OF PARENTAL PERFECTION 
15 
“ It is in the latter case that the real respect of the 
child is kept—not the notion of our supposed infallibility, 
sure to be shattered sooner or later, but the reverence that 
comes from seeing more and more clearly that, through all 
our mistakes, we have been striving, not for our ease and 
comfort, but for the child’s welfare.” 
But if we resolve to deal with the child frankly and 
sincerely as a human being, we need not multiply mis- 
takes for the purpose of making occasions to exercise 
the virtue of confession and apology. With the best of 
care we shall make mistakes enough. We shall need to 
use all our wits and all our wisdom to consider well 
every word and every deed that we may not have to 
apologize so often that the child will at last get the 
notion that, after all, parents are not much better 
than children. Apologize whenever you need to; but 
do not need to too often. SELFISHNESS AND SACRIFICE 
When we consider the thousands of people whose 
childhood has been neglected, the people whose abilities 
have not been cultivated, we are apt to think that we 
should all be happier if parents were more unselfish 
in the care of the young. We are apt to think that 
these neglected children needed but a little more sacri- 
fice on the part of their parents. 
But in the bringing up of children the important dis- 
tinction is not between selfish parents and unselfish 
ones, but between wise parents and those that are other- 
wise. We are all acquainted with the devoted and sin- 
cere mother whose own dress approaches dangerously 
near to the shabby in order that her children may be 
dressed a little better than she can afford to have them; 
who will deny herself necessities that her children may 
have additional comforts, or even luxuries. Certainly, 
such mothers are sufficiently unselfish. But are they 
wise mothers? 
If the mother derives any satisfaction from making 
these sacrifices—and we know that there are women 
who instinctively seek opportunities to make them— 
we must not begrudge her these pleasures. But she 
must not delude herself with the belief that she is doing 
these things for the benefit of her children. For what 
is the effect of this relationship upon those children? 
The most that can be expected is that the children will 
16 SELFISHNESS AND SACRIFICE 
17 
profit from the example of the sacrificing mother, and 
will grow up in a spirit that is prepared to make sac- 
rifices for others. But usually it does not work out that 
way. The probabilities are that the children indulged 
in this manner will grow up to be the selfish wives and 
selfish husbands of the next generation. They will grow 
up expecting that their whims and conveniences will be 
indulged and petted, as a matter of course. We learn 
to make sacrifices, not by watching other people make 
them, but by means of practice in making them our- 
selves ; and the children can learn only in this same way. 
In every family, indeed in every community, there 
is always need for sacrifice; it is only by a constant 
give and take that we can get along together. Except- 
ing only the younger children, whose healthy growth 
and development call for first consideration, there is no 
reason why the children should not share in the neces- 
sary sacrifices that a family has to make. This is 
especially true in regard to the material conveniences. 
To know the limitations of the family’s resources, and 
to learn to live accordingly, will contribute more to 
the child’s character than can be gained by the sacri- 
fices of other members of the family. 
But the material sacrifices are not the most impor- 
tant. If the mother wishes to be unselfish for the 
benefit of her children, let her learn to restrain her 
temper; let her learn to suspend judgment until she 
has heard all the facts, before condemning a child for 
acts committed. That is the kind of unselfishness that 
will produce results which are worth while. Let her 
sacrifice the time necessary to enable her to keep abreast 18 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
of the times in which her children are going to live, 
that they may not outgrow her too soon. 
A woman of good judgment, whose station in life 
happens to be that of washing clothes for other people, 
was telling of a wealthy patroness who had taken her 
daughter of eleven years to the country, had bought 
her dresses, had taken her out riding in the motor-car, 
and had shown other kindnesses. The listener was im- 
pressed. “ How lovely ! ” she exclaimed. “ Yes, it 
looks lovely now; but it all means trouble later,” re- 
plied the mother. “ A summer like this can’t help 
but make her selfish, and dissatisfied with things when 
she comes back, and I’ll have my troubles with her. 
But I had to choose the lesser of two evils. It was 
either letting her get spoiled and pampered in the 
country while her mother is slaving in the city, or 
letting her get spoiled loafing in the city streets. I 
thought I could cure her of the faults she got out there 
quicker than of some of the faults she would get in the 
city, so I let her go.” 
The mother’s instinct is to get for her child as much 
pleasure and satisfaction as possible. But this mother 
saw the thorn on the rose. The ordinary indulgent 
mother would have jumped blindly at this excellent 
chance for the daughter; so far as the daughter’s 
programme for the summer is concerned, the result is the 
same here. But the ordinary mother would have been 
surprised and grieved at the child’s ingratitude upon 
her return, when the child showed any signs of dissatis- 
faction; this mother was prepared to deal with the 
situation, for she knew what to expect. SELFISHNESS AND SACRIFICE 
19 
This thoughtful balancing of costs and returns is 
not to be condemned as selfishness on the part of the 
mother. It is the selection of dwellings whose rooms 
or neighborhoods are not suitable for the children— 
where a choice is possible—it is the planning of the 
home’s routine with sole regard to the convenience and 
interests of the adults that constitute culpable selfish- 
ness. It is the blind pursuit of adult interests without 
regard to the developing children that is the unpardon- 
able sin in child training. Just as the indulgent parent 
harms the child and defeats the end of her own efforts, 
so the selfish parent, instead of getting increasing com- 
fort as the years go on, finds troubles growing upon 
her. 
Being selfish or being unselfish may be a matter of 
temperament, or one’s “ nature ”—and that, we are 
often told, cannot be changed. But we recognize that 
habits can be acquired, by parents as well as by 
children, although perhaps with greater effort. In 
this matter as in others, we must judge a line of con- 
duct not by the arbitrary rule of selfish or unselfish, 
but by considering as reasonably as we can what will 
be for the largest interest of the children. THE DANGER OF TOO LITTLE KNOWLEDGE 
At the club, Saffron was reading the paper to him- 
self and making comments to all within hearing. Sud- 
denly he sat up and put down the paper. “ Was that 
White’s boy,” he asked, “ that was mixed up in that 
affair down at the lake?” No one seemed to know. 
Didn’t even know there had been an affair. In that 
case, Saffron had to read to them. It was the story 
of a boy who had gone over the edge of a pier, and 
was pulled out by another boy who happened to be 
passing. The boy who happened to be passing was 
young Bob White, and he happened along at a time 
when he was supposed to be in school. That was the 
point. Although no one denied that it was eminently 
proper for him to jump into the water and save the 
ragged stranger, all were agreed that he had no busi- 
ness there. He was obviously playing truant. 
“ If a boy of mine did that,” said Saffron, “ I’d let 
him take all the medals and fine speeches that were 
coming to him, and after the celebration was all over I 
would take him into the woodshed and give him the 
worst licking of his young life.” 
That sounded very heroic and very reasonable. 
After all, it’s wicked to play truant. It was only a 
lucky chance that the boy came along in time to save 
the other child—perhaps this one had been a truant 
also. The chances were even that another time he’d DANGER OF TOO LITTLE KNOWLEDGE 
21 
get run over by a fire engine. The boy’s place is in the 
school, and he had no business along the lake front. 
He needed a lesson that would teach him his place. 
It made Saffron quite angry to think of a son of his 
committing an outrage upon law and morals. And 
the things he had in mind to do were—well, they were 
just the expressions of his anger. They were not 
thought out policies of applying force where it would 
do the most good. They were the instinctive appeals 
to violence and had just about as much moral value as 
Bob’s own dereliction. 
And Brown, who had not been saying anything, could 
see that. And so he joined the conversation. He 
would not approve of truancy. He knew it was a bad 
thing, and liable to lead to worse things. But there’s 
no use getting excited over it. Didn’t we all do the 
same thing when we were young? Or at least, we were 
all tempted to. And if we did not yield, it was just 
our good fortune, or perhaps sheer cowardice, and not 
our superior virtue. Besides, it’s the sort of thing 
that a child will do just because he is a child. When 
he gets to be as old as we are, he won’t be tempted 
to go down to the lake. Remember that boys will be 
boys. Give him a chance to grow up and he’ll be all 
right. 
This did not sound so heroic, but it did seem reason- 
able. After all, a day out of school breathing the fresh 
air and taking good exercise won’t hurt any boy. He 
could make up his school work just as easily as though 
he had been absent on account of sickness; and this was 
better than sickness. Thousands of boys play 22 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
“ hooky ” and then grow up to be decent citizens— 
some of them even become teachers, or ministers. Let 
him alone, and he’ll grow up all right. 
Young Blank, whose children had not yet reached 
the age of truancy, was interested but bewildered. 
He had expected to lay up a supply of practical wisdom 
to use in possible emergencies in the future. But he 
did not find the conflicting counsel very helpful. 
Evil-doers ought to be punished, of course. Otherwise 
there would be no premium on doing the right thing. 
But if a child does what we consider “ evil ” without 
malice, should he still be made to suffer—especially 
when he is very likely to outgrow the instincts that 
lead to such acts ? 
The trouble with the angry Saffron was that he had 
not taken the pains to think out the right and the 
wrong of children’s actions, nor the right and wrong of 
punishing children. He was just as impulsive as the 
truant himself, with this difference: Whereas the boy 
had an uncomfortable feeling that he was doing some- 
thing that was wrong—because it was disapproved— 
the man had the assurance that he was in the right. 
For in the punishment of children he was countenanced 
by generations of parents and most of his contem- 
poraries. 
The trouble with Brown was that whereas he had 
learned enough to know that the misdeeds of children 
are in most cases the outward expressions of perfectly 
healthy instincts, and not evidences of “ wickedness,” 
and whereas he knew that most children will outgrow 
these misdeeds, he had no idea that there was anything DANGER OF TOO LITTLE KNOWLEDGE 
to be done about it except to permit the fates to finish 
the story. 
It is well for all of us to know what Brown knew. 
But that is not enough. Children will outgrow their 
childish impulses, but what will take their place? One 
of the ways in which the grown-ups acquired that feel- 
ing of righteousness in the presence of childish mis- 
deeds, was through the impressive indignation of their 
parents on the occasions of their own childish errors. 
It may be wrong for Saffron to put so much stress 
upon the wickedness of truancy; but it is just as wrong 
to evade the issue and treat it like teething, as some- 
thing that will pass away of itself. Saffron needed to 
learn there was something else to do besides whipping 
children; Brown needed to learn that there was some- 
thing to do. 
When they get to be our age, our boys will not be 
playing truant or stealing apples from the neighbor’s 
orchard. They will have outgrown the temptation for 
such things, just as we have, and just as they have 
already outgrown the desire to play horse with a 
broomstick. 
It is well for parents to know that these instincts, 
and many others, come up in the course of the child’s 
development, have their little days, and then are gone 
again. It is well for them to know that Johnnie is not 
a moral pervert because he does this or that which you 
and I would not do. It is well for them to know that 
there is hope for his character in spite of stealing and 
in spite of lying. If they cannot remember that they 
did these things themselves when they were young, they MODERN PARENTHOOD 
will have to accept the assurance of those who have 
made a special study of the working of children’s 
minds, that all children lie, more or less, for a longer 
or shorter period. Later, when some of these children 
grow up to be merchants and judges and parents, they 
are in turn shocked because Johnnie stole apples or 
because Mamie told a lie. 
But. it is also well for parents to know that among 
the forces that help children get over these impulses to 
do the thing that you and I do not approve, is just this 
very fact that we do not approve them, the very vehe- 
mence of our disapproval, the lickings, perhaps, as in 
the case of Saffron, or the heart-to-heart talks, or the 
appeal of a strong personality that arouses admiration. 
When we know that these instincts are “ natural,” we 
should be saved a great deal of worry; but we should 
not then leave everything to fate and the school teacher. 
Our knowledge should go far enough to enable us to 
make use of the instincts as they arise, far enough to 
put us on our guard as to what to expect. 
I said that Brown represents a transition stage. 
But you must not take that to show that he has found 
the golden mean. In reality this transition stage 
which so many parents have reached is but an opposite 
extreme from the position of Saffron. The one acts 
on impulse, giving expression to his disapproval of the 
son’s conduct in the direct, simple way of our primitive 
ancestors. The other restrains his elemental impulses, 
and feels a glow of satisfaction in his superior knowl- 
edge, the while he does nothing. One does too much 
of the wrong kind of thing; the other lets nature take DANGER OF TOO LITTLE KNOWLEDGE 
25 
her course. The golden mean is found when the supe- 
rior knowledge not only prevents foolish actions, but 
guides helpful action. To make use of the fundament- 
ally healthy disapproval of truancy or of stealing, and 
at the same time to make use of an understanding of 
the nature of the developing child—that is the problem 
for all parents. 
When a child manifests cruelty toward a bird or a 
cat, we need not fear that he will become a criminal. 
Neither need we restrain his cruel impulses by mani- 
festing the residue of our own by whipping him. The 
young child is probably not really cruel. Someone has 
said that many of the child’s actions that seem cruel 
to us are merely the expressions of his curiosity about 
the structure and behavior of animals, in the presence 
of his ignorance about their feelings or sufferings. To 
give a child an opportunity to know and to love 
a pet is a much more effective way of overcoming innate 
“ cruelty,” than either to ignore his actions or to pun- 
ish him. We can utilize his instinct to protect and 
help what is weaker and what is liked, to fight and 
overcome the instinct to pull tails or to tease. 
At every stage in his development the child has in- 
stincts that need to be encouraged and others that need 
to be suppressed, or transferred to new modes of action. 
The parent must be constantly on his guard to recog- 
nize the manifestations of these instincts, and be always 
prepared to stimulate, to restrain, and to substitute. 
To do these things effectively, he must know a great 
deal more than Brown does. It it better, indeed, that 
he know nothing at all about these things, and continue 26 
MODERN PARENTHOOD 
to govern his hopeful in the good, old-fashioned way, 
with all its blunders and heartbreakings, than to know 
just enough to shrug his shoulders and look the other 
way. We must know when to let alone, but we must 
know when not to. In the rearing of children, as in 
the gathering of mushrooms, a little knowledge may 
prove to be a dangerous thing. THE PHYSICAL BASIS HEALTH AND DISPOSITION 
When grown-ups are unusually irritable, or when 
they have the blues, sympathetic friends think of nerv- 
ousness or overwork, or they suggest indigestion or 
lack of sleep as sufficient explanation. When a child 
does not behave as well as we are accustomed to expect, 
we are apt to think he is “ naughty ” and we sometimes 
throw up our hands and exclaim “ Whatever has gotten 
into that child! ” 
In more recent times, since the physicians and statis- 
ticians have gotten together to show us just how far 
adenoid growths or eyestrain are responsible for mental 
shortcomings and unsatisfactory conduct, we are more 
likely to suspect a physical condition behind everything 
unusual in a child’s behavior. But most of us do not 
know where to look, or how to recognize the trouble 
when we see it. 
A little boy who had a very cheerful disposition— 
most of the time—gave his mother much concern, and 
all the relatives and neighbors much annoyance, by 
having spells of whining and sulking at irregular in- 
tervals. Sometimes he would be cheerful and happy 
for weeks without a break; and sometimes not more 
than a few days. The family physician had occasion 
to examine the child during one of his spells and found 
that he was bilious. On making inquiry into the child’s 
diet, the physician hit upon the idea that the youngster 30 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
was unable to digest eggs properly, and recommended 
leaving these out for a while and watching develop- 
ments. The suspicion was well founded; and the change 
in the diet restored the child to his happy disposition. 
In another case, one of a pair of twins developed 
a most annoying case of irritability and was becoming 
“ nasty ” when a careful study of his digestion showed 
that milk did not agree with him. Again a change of 
diet brought about a most satisfying change in the 
child’s mode of behavior and in his disposition. 
A kindergarten teacher was disturbed by the mother 
of one of her children, who always attributed every 
irregularity to some abnormality in the health of the 
child. The kindergartner felt that the mother was 
demoralizing the child by her own attitude, since she 
never required any effort or exertion on the part of 
the little girl. When the mother called for Lucy one 
day, the teacher complained that she had been naughty 
again—inattentive and disobedient and as wicked as 
a little girl in a kindergarten can be—and added, “ You 
cannot say that her health had anything to do with it 
this time I ” with an air of triumph. But the mother 
happened to know that the child had lost three hours’ 
sleep the night before on account of toothache. This 
was something that the kindergartner could not know 
beforehand, and it was something that would in most 
cases have a very decided effect on the child’s behavior. 
In the case of a boy who had an attack of malaria 
and was being drugged to prevent the recurrence of 
the chills, it developed that the quinine was having a 
marked effect upon his disposition and the consequent HEALTH AND DISPOSITION 
31 
behavior. His periodic spells of “ naughtiness ” in 
school led the principal to make an investigation, and 
he satisfied himself that while the medical treatment 
was preventing a recurrence of the malaria, it was also 
having its effect upon the child’s nerves. With the 
reduction of the medicine, and with close watch upon 
his digestion and sleep, the child’s health steadily im- 
proved and his outbreaks became rarer and rarer. 
One night a girl of two years, who had been a model 
of regularity, began to call for her nurse after being 
put to bed. She had a slight “ cold in the head,” but 
that did not seem to be serious enough to account for 
her irritability. The next day she repeated the per- 
formance with her afternoon nap, and so for three 
days. In the meanwhile the mother also contracted a 
cold, and on retiring placed in her nostrils the drops 
that had been prescribed for the baby. This medicine 
irritated her so that she could not fall asleep, and then 
it occurred to her that the child’s unusual behavior 
might be due to the medicine. The drops were omitted 
the next time, and the child returned at once to her 
earlier habits of going to sleep immediately. 
Investigators have found many interesting cases of 
mental backwardness, and even of moral delinquency, 
that could be traced to unfavorable physical conditions. 
But where a child seems to be normal in every way and 
then gets into a spell of sulks or contrariness or other 
annoying manifestation of unhealthy spirit from time 
to time, we may be sure that the most likely cause is 
some derangement in his bodily health. 
A few years ago every special case that came before 32 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
a physician or educator led to a search for eyestrain. 
Then it was the fashion to look for adenoids or 
“ glands.” A little later defective teeth were suspected 
of being the source of all the trouble. But the fact is 
that there is no one thing that is the cause of all the 
trouble. The child’s body is a bundle of hundreds of 
physical elements, and any one of them may bring 
about derangements in the orderly workings of his nerv- 
ous system. It may be the liver, or it may be an in- 
testinal parasite; it may be lack of sleep, or it may be 
ill-fitting shoes. Or it may be a combination of several 
troubles. 
It is useless to search for one cause of all our trou- 
bles. We must learn to know our children from as 
many angles as possible, so as to be able to survey the 
whole being for the purpose of catching any irregular- 
ity as early as possible. NERVOUS DAYS 
Is it not most exasperating that the children are so 
naughty and irritating just the day you expect com- 
pany? Of course no one expects the children to be 
perfect all the time; they have their blue days, just 
the same as adults. But it’s just our luck that the 
children are “ naughty ” on the very days when we 
have most to do! 
When you have to apologize to visitors, and explain 
that Herbert “ is not always like that,” you hardly 
expect your friends to believe all you say. You expect 
them to accept your explanations with several grains 
of salt. You say you don’t know “ what has gotten 
into that child! ” And you really don’t know. The 
cynical guest will think to herself, “ If it isn’t one 
thing, it’s another,” and she will shake her head and 
try to look sympathetic, and she will thank goodness 
that her children are not like yours, although they 
are. 
But an experienced mother ought to understand that 
something will get into children, once in a while, and 
it is most likely to do so just when she is expecting 
company, or just when she is exceptionally busy. Are 
the little imps then deliberately annoying you because 
they know that company is coming, or because they 
like to irritate you? Not at all. They do not need 
to know what’s going to happen; they do not even need 
33 34 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
to know that you are very busy. The trouble is first 
of all with the mother. 
You will notice that the same kind of annoyances 
will come from the baby, on those very trying days— 
from the baby that is too young to know anything 
about company or being busy or being annoyed. If 
you will watch yourself the next time that you expect 
to have an unusually busy day, you will perhaps find 
out how it is that the children come to be so naughty. 
You will notice that you are perhaps a little more 
fussy than usual, in the morning; you are in a hurry 
to get breakfast out of the way. Instead of giving all 
of your attention to the children while at their meal, or 
when one of them asks you a question, your mind is 
in the middle of the afternoon, thinking of how the 
curtains look, or of some detail that will need to be 
looked after when you go to do the marketing. As a 
result, the child repeats his request for a muffin or his 
question about whether he can go to Charlie’s house 
after school; and in two seconds the child’s voice has 
become peevish and you come back to the immediate 
present to find that something is not quite right. 
So far as the children are concerned, this is the 
beginning of the whole trouble. Your thoughts are 
elsewhere and the children do not get from you the 
accustomed attention. You are impatient with them, 
because you are so eager to get at the important tasks 
of the day. You are short in your answers, because 
you are anxious to make a good impression on the 
visitors, or you are anxious to have the day’s work 
finished before father comes home from his work. In NERVOUS DAYS 
35 
your absent look, in your short answers, in your im- 
patience, you quite upset the children. Even under 
ordinary conditions an unusual bit of excitement will 
upset them; when your excitement lasts all day, the 
children cannot help but feel it. 
A man who sent his family away to the country for 
the summer, because he believes that that is the best 
place for children, took a week-end off and managed 
to spend two days and a night with them. Now of all 
the nights during that summer, this was the one night 
when the baby cried and made sleep impossible. The 
infant was not naughty, she was not sick, she did not 
understand that anything unusual was going on; but 
she cried that night, so that the father’s expensive 
little vacation was spoiled, and he went back to his 
work in a little worse condition than he had left it. 
Can you blame the baby? Every nursing mother 
knows that excitement is poison for the baby. The 
physicians explain the trouble by saying that the 
wastes given off by the nerves during great excitement 
get into the blood and eventually reach the milk in 
the mother’s breast. The baby cried all night not be- 
cause father was there, but because mother was 
excited. In this case the excitement was all of the 
pleasurable kind; they were all glad to have father with 
them. But the effect on the baby was the same as 
though it had been war news. 
This little experience, which can be duplicated many 
times from nearly every household, shows how our ex- 
citements affect the whole body in ways of which we are 
not aware at the time. And we show our excitement 36 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
in a hundred ways of which we are not aware, but to 
which the children are very sensitive. It may be the 
expression on the face, it may be the tone of the voice, 
it may be jerky movements of the hands, or it may be 
something else. But when you are excited, you cannot 
very well hide it; and however you may show it, it 
must affect the children. You transfer your uneasi- 
ness and lack of self-control to them, and neither you 
nor they can tell what the trouble is. 
It sometimes happens that a mother can manage all 
the household arrangements without in the least losing 
her composure, and that the child will then behave in 
an unusual way when company comes. In such cases 
we must look out for a certain incompatibility between 
the child and the guest. Some people uniformly upset 
the equanimity of children. There is something fussy 
about their manner, something in their expression, or 
something in the voice, from which children instinctively 
shrink. High-strung children are especially sensitive 
to the lack of calm in the spirit of strangers, and you 
can depend upon such children to disgrace you when 
certain visitors arrive. 
But do not blame the children. It is our business to 
shield them from our own disconcerting moods, and 
from visitors that have an unhappy effect upon them, 
until they are old enough to learn how to master their 
own moods. RESTLESS FOR NEED OF REST 
To say that a child is fatigued but does not feel 
tired may seem like splitting hairs, or refining the use 
of the scientist’s new-fangled words. But there is a 
real difference between being fatigued and feeling tired; 
and it is well for parents to know how it applies to 
their children. 
When one feels tired, he knows it and usually takes 
the next opportunity for rest or sleep. Young children 
show by their behavior that they do not feel energetic 
enough to go on with the work or play in hand, when 
they feel tired. And it is thus a comparatively simple 
matter to provide the conditions for suitable recovery 
from the “ tired feeling.” It is an unusually inexperi- 
enced person that would not be able to distinguish 
between the actions of a “ naughty ” child and those 
of a really tired child. 
It is different, however, when it comes to dealing 
with a child that suffers from what the physiologists 
call “ chronic fatigue.” Such a child, instead of pre- 
ferring rest and quiet, is likely to be constantly restless 
and eager for something to do, or for some new adven- 
ture. He is not likely to stick very long to any occu- 
pation or game, and his eagerness for something new 
is not satisfied, but continues to reject every novelty 
in his insatiable search for something else. 
A little girl of eight who is ordinarily capable of 
37 38 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
working at a single task from twenty to sixty minutes 
at a stretch, showed her fatigued condition one morning 
by doing all of these things in much less than half an 
hour: She jumped about aimlessly until directed to 
find something to play with. She took down her little 
express-wagon and pulled it at full speed up and down 
the road several times, finally abandoning it in the 
middle of the roadway. She declared she would go 
rowing, went down to the boat and sat there several 
minutes, swaying to and fro, without pushing the boat 
into the water. She ran up to the house and asked for 
materials to write a letter to her cousin; by the time 
the paper, etc., were ready, she had changed her mind 
and decided to cut out some paper dolls. She finished 
nearly one doll, and shifted to a box of puzzle pictures, 
which she left without making any progress. 
The characteristic thing about the conduct of the 
child that is “ fatigued ” is the lack of concentration. 
This shows itself not only in the rapid shifting of 
interest and activity, but also in the inability to attend 
consecutively to conversation, or study. In school 
fatigue is one of the common causes of “ inattention.” 
The connection lies in the fact that the child has lost 
the ability to resist impulses. Every sensation, every 
suggestion, every thought that pops into his head im- 
pels him to a new line of action, and he is too feeble to 
do anything but obey the impulse. 
We know that the trained person, the “ able ” person, 
is just the one who selects what sights and what sounds 
he will attend to, what impulses he will obey and what 
ones he will ignore. To make this selection requires RESTLESS FOR NEED OF REST 
39 
experience, and a large part of our education consists 
of training in this kind of selection. Moreover, the 
selection requires energy, and this the over-fatigued 
child cannot command. 
Certain types of children are much more apt than 
others to acquire this state of chronic fatigue. The 
very sensitive child is most likely of all to develop the 
condition, because here every sensation starts an im- 
pulse that either produces some muscular action, or it 
stretches the muscles without leading to any obvious 
movements. In either case the muscles are actually 
expending energy in a way that contributes to the 
fatigue. Not only impulses that come from the outside 
through the senses, but the wanderings of his own 
imagination are likely to start muscular contractions 
that add to the fatigue without seeming to produce any 
“ real work.” In addition to these sources of wasted 
energy is the further fact that this type of child usually 
does not “ know when to stop.” 
It is therefore particularly important that those 
who have the care of such a child should know when 
to make him stop. For this kind of child we 
often need to devise interesting and restful occupa- 
tions. An experienced teacher made the observation 
that certain of her pupils showed on first coming to 
school in the morning that they had before them a 
restless and unprofitable day. On comparing notes 
with the parents she found that the restless day in 
school was also the irritable and “ naughty ” day at 
home. She then wished that school work could be so 
arranged as to permit her to relieve the fatigued child 40 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
of the usual programme, and let him spend his time more 
profitably in the shop or laboratory, the playground, 
or perhaps the library. Even a vigorous and exhaust- 
ing turn in the gymnasium, until the child is “ good 
and tired ” and feels like taking a rest, is to be pre- 
ferred to the aimless and disconnected fidgetings. 
It will no doubt be a long time before the schools can 
undertake to adjust their daily work to the varying 
needs of each* individual child. But it is certainly not 
too much to expect the home to take note of the more 
common symptoms of chronic fatigue, and to adjust 
itself accordingly. In addition to restlessness, irrita- 
bility and lack of concentration, the child’s fatigued 
condition may sometimes show itself in uneasy sleep, or 
in lack of appetite, or in general languor. 
When any of these symptoms show themselves, it is 
well to increase the amount of sleep, adding an after- 
noon nap where possible. The attention of an adult 
who can help to hold the child’s interest in some con- 
tinuous occupation, and the removal, so far as possible, 
of all distractions, would be helpful. FORCIBLE FEEDING 
It was the last day of school, and Edith had gone to 
her friend’s house for the afternoon. When she came 
home, it was with a glow of excitement. Martha was 
to spend a week with her aunt in the country—and 
Edith was invited to “ come with.” Edith’s mother 
had several good reasons in her mind for not allowing 
Edith to go with Martha, and she felt that she could 
not tell the most important ones to the child. So she 
told some, and left the rest to her authority. 
But of course Edith was not satisfied. She really 
wanted very much to go. And from teasing her mother 
to change her mind she worked herself into a state of 
resentment, not unmixed perhaps with rage. So it 
came about that when dinner was served, the little girl 
was in anything but an amiable mood, and she an- 
nounced sullenly that she did not wish to eat. This 
brought the father upon the scene. 
He was not concerned with the details of the events 
that led up to the rebellion. It was his business to 
maintain the dignity of the established order of domes- 
tic ceremonials, and to uphold the authority of the 
mother in exercising her discretion in affairs of moment. 
“ What, not eat? ” he cried, in a voice suited to his 
part. “ What nonsense is this? She must eat! ” 
Edith sat at her place. She sipped at the soup. She 
chewed mechanically at the food placed before her. THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
She nibbled at the dessert without enthusiasm. And 
throughout the meal there was silence while the feelings 
were estranged and the minds wandered from the im- 
mediate business of the hour. 
Now the results of many investigations and experi- 
ments made by scientists would lead us to conclude that 
a meal eaten as was this one, represents a quantity of 
good food gone to waste. Nobody enjoyed the taste 
or the flavor, nobody appreciated the effort to make 
the table and settings attractive, and so far as nourish- 
ment is concerned, it would seem that the child espe- 
cially would have been better off without the meal. 
For these experiments show that whereas the flow of 
digestive juices and the vigor of the muscular action 
in the digestive organs are both increased by pleasant 
emotions, they are both retarded when the feelings are 
too deeply stirred. And when there is anger or worry 
or fear, both the glands and the muscles of the diges- 
tive organs may stop work altogether. Under these 
circumstances the food remains in the stomach only to 
cause distress later. 
In this particular case, it would have been the part 
of wisdom for Edith’s mother to separate her momen- 
tous decision—momentous for the child—as much as 
possible from the impending meal. It is true that in 
so many households the people see each other very 
little except in the neighborhood of meal-time. But 
for this very reason we should reserve for the meetings 
the most cheerful and stimulating of the day’s topics 
and problems. In any case, the disagreeable and the 
depressing should be removed from the danger zone. FORCIBLE FEEDING 
It often happens that disagreeable decisions must be 
made. And they will, of course, affect the child’s mood 
unfavorably. But a mood cannot last very long; if the 
decision is made early enough, the nervous system may 
have time to regain its equilibrium before it is again 
time to eat. But should the distressing scene come too 
close to meal-time, so that the child has lost all appetite, 
it is better for him to forego the eating. 
Of course there are other things to consider besides 
the child’s feelings for the time being. It is important 
to maintain a certain regularity in the children’s lives. 
There must be fixed times for many of the routine 
things. There is also much to be said for the moral 
value of “ controlling ” the feelings so that they do not 
break out at inopportune times to interfere with the 
programme, or with the convenience of others. But 
when all is said and done, it still remains true that in 
cases of extreme agitation it is best not to resort to 
forcible feeding. 
With older children in fairly good health there is 
seldom an indisposition to eat at the usual time, except 
as a result of an emotional disturbance. But with 
younger children, who have not yet established the eat- 
ing routine, the problem arises very frequently to per- 
plex and distress the mother. Sometimes the child will 
refuse to eat this or that of what is offered. And 
sometimes the appetite will be so fickle that it seems 
impossible to fix regular hours for eating. 
In the first case, no matter how desirable the spinach 
or beef-juice, that the child refuses to take, it is prac- 
tically worthless if it is forced upon the child under 44 
THE PHYSICAL BASIS 
circumstances that are agitating. You may wheedle 
or trick the child into taking it, you may disguise the 
food by combining it with something attractive, you 
may bribe the child or cajole him in any way your 
ingenuity suggests. But the moment you apply force 
and arouse resentment you bring about within the child 
conditions that tend to neutralize all the benefits of the 
special dish. It is better to let the child go hungry 
than to feed him by force. Children who are solicit- 
ously guarded are not in danger of suffering from a 
fast of several hours. 
The same applies to the child whose refusal to eat 
at your time makes it impossible to fix regular habits. 
A mother who complained that her two-year-old could 
never be induced to eat admitted that she gave the 
child a cracker or some other trifle between meals. But 
on adopting the advice to give the child absolutely 
nothing except at meal-time, she was able in two days 
to develop a marvelous appetite three times a day. 
Children must be fed; but force must not be used as 
an appetizer. EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY NO TWO ALIKE 
If we were only consistent in our theory as to what 
we may expect of children, perhaps parents would more 
quickly come to understand the little animals for whose 
up-bringing they are responsible. But when it suits 
our purposes to assume absolute equality of ability, we 
do not hesitate to say to George, “ I know you can 
learn to spell because Mrs. Johnson’s boy is a very good 
speller, and he is three months younger than you are.” 
On the other hand, we do not hesitate to boast—when 
the occasion presents itself—that our George won two 
medals in athletics and made the handsomest book- 
rack in the school shop, and that it is now on the prin- 
cipal’s desk in the office, where all visitors can see it, 
and that it has George’s name on it, too! Does it never 
occur to us that only the fastest runner can win the 
medal for running, and that it is impossible for all the 
boys to be fastest runners? 
When Mrs. Hall dropped in on her neighbor one 
afternoon, she could not help but admire the zeal and 
thoroughness with which Lily was cleaning up the china 
closet, and the neatness with which she then replaced 
the contents. And when she got home she could not 
resist the impulse to give expression to her admiration 
in the presence of her own daughter, in a tone that 
carried something more than a suspicion of reproach for 
Myra’s own deficiencies in the direction of certain kinds 48 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
of household work. It is no secret to anyone except 
Lily and Myra that only the week before Mrs. Morgan 
was saying, “ I don’t see why my girl should be behind 
that Myra in school. She’s every bit as smart, but I 
suppose she doesn’t try.” 
Why should you expect your daughter to have all 
the capacities and talents of your neighbor’s daughter? 
And why should you expect your younger son to have 
all the capacities and talents of your older son? But 
if you know that each child is quite unique in his com- 
bination of abilities and limitations, what right have 
you to reproach one with letting Nellie get ahead of 
her in music, while you reproach Nellie for not coming 
up to the other’s standard in sewing or cooking? 
Our easy transition from praise to blame for condi- 
tions that are for the most part entirely beyond the 
control of the children may have several unexpected 
and quite undesirable results. To praise George for 
his superior handwork, or Harry for his superior spell- 
ing is likely to make the boy unduly conceited. Praise 
in due measure for effort and industry has its uses in 
stimulating further effort until the habit of industry 
is fixed. But praise for a native interest or aptitude 
is as misplaced as praise for good looks or long hair. 
On the other hand, to reproach a child by emphasiz- 
ing his failure to approach a standard set by his 
neighbor or cousin, is not going to encourage him to 
try harder. It is more likely to engender a dislike or 
positive hatred for the unconscious model of virtue or 
achievement. Each one of us may recall some pet 
aversion to a perfectly innocent and harmless child NO TWO ALIKE 
49 
brought about by the constant reference to Nellie or 
Harry as examples worthy of emulation in the very 
things that came hardest to us. 
Let us first of all recognize that no two children can 
do exactly the same kinds of work in exactly the same 
way. Instead of adopting as our guide the abstract 
“ average child ” that occupied the attention and solici- 
tude of educators but a few years ago, let us recognize 
that this average child does not exist; but that instead 
the world is full of a multitude of diverse little person- 
alities, each with his own set of native interests and 
skills and tastes and awkwardnesses, with his own range 
of appreciations and his own blind spots. Let us make 
it our business to understand the few children in whose 
development and welfare we are most concerned, recog- 
nizing their talents and weaknesses. Then we shall be 
in a position to guide them most helpfully. 
If we get away from the superstitious belief that all 
individuals can do all things that any one can do, we 
shall change our expectations and reduce our disap- 
pointments. We need not on that account lower our 
standards. On the contrary, we shall then be in a 
position to set standards that are reasonable, and 
standards that will in many cases be in advance of 
what we are accustomed to expect of our children. 
There is George’s spelling, for example, or Myra’s 
housework. While spelling is a very desirable accom- 
plishment, it is by no means an essential to happy and 
effective living, or to good citizenship. Moreover, it 
is quite within the limits of the probable that the 
teacher who failed to teach George spelling has over- 50 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
looked the one way through which alone he could possi- 
bly learn the art. George should be encouraged to 
learn to spell for a variety of good reasons; but the 
fact that Harry is a good speller is not one of the 
reasons—that fact is quite irrelevant. It is an imper- 
tinence to mention it. George should be encouraged 
to learn to spell, in a variety of ways; but a comparison 
with Harry’s superiority in this direction is not one 
of the legitimate ways. George should be encour- 
aged—as Myra should be encouraged—to do somewhat 
better today than he did yesterday or last week, and 
this, whether it be in spelling or in cleaning house. 
We should cultivate in our children an interest in 
developing all of their abilities for all they are worth, 
and not merely to equal the attainments of a rival. 
The standard should be the best that a given child can 
do, in every way, not as good as certain others can do 
in some ways. YOUR CHILD AND THE AVERAGE 
While visiting a large factory employing hundreds 
of girls, I became interested in a very ingenious system 
for keeping records and for maintaining standards of 
speed. Each girl was going through a few simple 
motions, making a very small fraction of a part of the 
factory’s product. Every hour the record of her out- 
put was sent to the chief of the division. If her output 
fell below a certain figure for two consecutive hours, 
she was quietly informed that her work had fallen below 
her “ average ” or below the average for her depart- 
ment. Then the girl would speed up her work, and 
begin cultivating nervous prostration, dropping out of 
the factory in a few days or weeks; or she would 
“ make good ” and help raise the “ average ” for the 
department. The manager told me with some pride 
that in less than a year he had been able to raise the 
“ average ” output for all departments more than fifty 
per cent, through these methods. He did not tell me, 
however, that he had taken pains to explain to the 
girls just what the “ average ” is. 
A little thought will show anyone who understands 
the elements of arithmetic that this manager perpetrated 
a cruel fraud upon the girls every time he called atten- 
tion to the output falling below the “ average.” The 
average is a figure that results from combining the 
lowest and the highest with all the others, and our 
51 52 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
everyday experience would lead us to expect that about 
as many individuals would rise above the average, as 
drop below it—no more and no fewer. But the young 
worker feels a certain stigma attaching to the grade 
“ below average ” and either does not understand 
enough or has not assurance enough to reply that it is 
impossible for all to be average or better. “ Average ” 
assumes below as well as above, and within certain 
limits it is quite as “ normal ” to be below the average 
as above. 
It is the failure to recognize the meaning of “ aver- 
age ” that leads to much of the failure in the training 
of children, whether in school or at home, as well as to 
many injustices in all of our relations. In school, the 
teacher attempts to apply certain rules of pedagogy, 
based on generalizations about the “ average.” Too 
frequently she attempts to make her idea of the average 
fit every single child in the class. She knows the aver- 
age distance between the printed page and the eye, and 
she may insist on every child maintaining the same 
distance, notwithstanding the fact that no two pair 
of eyes are exactly alike. She realizes she cannot 
maintain a uniform distance between the blackboard 
and the eyes, so she usually does nothing about that, 
although she might, for example, seat her children so 
that each would have the most favorable location with 
regard to his own eyesight. She knows the average 
time required for completing a given task in number 
work; she frequently insists that every child finish 
within the given time, and she frequently suspects YOUR CHILD AND THE AVERAGE 
53 
slovenliness or inaccuracy in the child that takes less 
than the allotted time. 
A similar failure to apply common sense is shown 
when teachers apply their rules and their programmes— 
based as these are on “ average ” experiences—to all 
children without discrimination. And the same failure 
is frequently found among parents. From the parent 
who becomes worried because her child does not weigh 
as much as the “ average ” for his age, to the parent 
who finds out the “ right ” amount of time that a child 
should give to his home lessons or his piano practice, 
and then insists upon the “ average ” number of min- 
utes, no more and no less, are found all the anxious 
and eager mothers, deluded by a formula. 
When the teacher reports to you that your Mar- 
garet’s handwriting is not up to the average, you 
rather resent the complaint. Of course her handwrit- 
ing is below the average; you always knew that Mar- 
garet was not very strong in hand control; and you 
are satisfied that Margaret more than holds her own 
in other kinds of effort. But you yourself are con- 
stantly applying “ average ” standards to Margaret’s 
conduct at home, with this disadvantage; whereas the 
school’s standards are derived from large numbers, the 
home standards are usually based on comparatively 
few experiences. You will compare Margaret’s be- 
havior with Georgiana’s, or with that of some restricted 
group; but at home, as in school, it is necessary to 
recognize that one child may be able to do what many 
others cannot do, or that one may fail where many 
others succeed. 54 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
In many families, the first child establishes the rules 
and expectations for the others. If the later children 
exceed the expectations, or easily adapt themselves to 
the routine which they find awaiting them, all is well. 
But if they fall short, the parents are likely to feel 
aggrieved, and to make frantic efforts to force the 
children up to the standard. Ernest was never afraid; 
why should any of the other children ever be afraid? 
Ernest slept from six to six when he was less than three 
months old; why should not the other children do the 
same? But if Ernest, the oldest, had been afraid, 
would you frighten the others into being afraid also? 
Or if Ernest had broken your sleep at five every morn- 
ing, would you wake the others at five, although they 
were quite willing to sleep until after six? 
Records are of value in industry and in government, 
and in school and in the home. And the averages de- 
rived from records are important. It is valuable to 
know what may be expected of groups, according to 
age, or sex, or training, or according to any other 
classification. But each individual must in the end be 
studied and treated for his own levels of capacity, or 
limitations. Averages show us, in general, what many 
have in common; but every child is “different” and 
his differences demand consideration. GIRLS AND BOYS 
It is not so many years since the champions of 
rights” (there were no “Feminists” in 
those days) felt it incumbent upon them to prove that 
woman is man’s equal in every respect. To do this 
they made the mistake of many champions of “ democ- 
racy ”; they confused equality with identity. Great 
emphasis was laid on the stray examples of women who 
had achieved noteworthy results in mathematics or 
music; and someone went so far as to point the finger 
of derision at weakly males who achieved nothing. 
Obviously this method does not bring us very far 
toward an understanding of what it were best to do in 
education and legislation. Through this method, how- 
ever, men as well as women gradually awakened to the 
realization that there are great individual differences, 
so that it is impossible to make universal and exclusive 
statements about human beings, or about either sex. 
Fortunately we have reached the point at which we 
are able to face facts frankly and to put them to good 
use. It has always been difficult to make sure just 
what are the original characteristics of human nature; 
that is, we cannot tell whether a given trait is the result 
of tradition and environment, or the spontaneous mani- 
festation of something innate. It is easy to assume 
that boys are more aggressive than girls; but it is also 
easy to argue that girls affect a certain demureness 56 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
because tradition has made it reputable. For ages we 
have been expecting—and demanding—one kind of 
conduct from boys and a different kind of conduct from 
girls. It has become customary to tolerate boisterous- 
ness in boys and (let us say) indirection in girls. 
Whether boys are “ by nature ” more boisterous, or 
whether girls are “ by nature ” more diplomatic, we 
have not taken the pains to find out. Modern studies 
by scientists and educators show us that there are de- 
cided differences between the sexes. Whatever they 
are, we want to know them and not let ourselves be 
guided in our treatment of boys and girls merely by 
our traditional prejudices or by our theories of “ equal- 
ity.” Now the differences are not easily formulated. 
Whenever a generalization is made, exceptions will at 
once occur to us. Thus, when someone says that men 
are taller than women, we will at once think of the 
many women of our acquaintance who are taller than 
the “ average ” man, or the many men who are shorter 
than the “ average ” woman. But the generalization 
simply means that most of the men are taller than 
most of the women, and not that every man is taller 
than any woman. It is in this general way that we are 
to understand the findings of the investigators. 
If you watch the girls and boys at home, you will 
probably find that girls think in terms of persons more 
than boys do. Henry may decide to take Latin when 
he goes to High School because his friend Robert does, 
but Dorothy is much more likely to make her choice 
for such a reason. Whatever influenced Henry’s choice 
and however much he may love his teacher, it will be GIRLS AND BOYS 
57 
almost impossible for him to study his lesson when the 
ball game calls. But Dorothy will wear herself out over 
her Latin—which she hates—and will sacrifice a much 
desired walk—because she has fallen in love with her 
teacher. 
The same general difference is shown by the obser- 
vation that when the children get into the “ gang ” 
stage, the boy will have a great deal of loyalty toward 
the group, although he may care little for more than 
one or two particular individuals in the group. The 
girl, on the other hand, sticks to individuals. 
Another difference that shows itself when one has 
experience with large numbers of girls and boys is the 
tendency of girls to be more submissive to authority. 
They accept the word of the teacher without question 
in much larger proportions. This does not mean that 
girls are necessarily more “ law-abiding ” than boys, 
although they may be. But, as someone has said, 
“ girls may be more contrary, but boys are more re- 
bellious.” 
There are very many more differences and girls and 
boys are superior to each other in many respects. But 
the differences are all subtle and so difficult to apply to 
individual cases that nothing can be gained by enumer- 
ating them, even if we knew them all. Yet if we recog- 
nize that there are differences we should adapt our 
treatment of boys and girls accordingly. We can see 
that in a household full of girls who have no brother, 
there is something lacking in the children’s development. 
The same thing is true of a lot of boys who have no 
sisters. Now we cannot distribute brothers and sisters 58 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
at will to meet the needs of every family, but to a cer- 
tain extent we can assure to all children the advantages 
of association with the opposite sex. 
One mother blessed with seven sons who had grown 
up with a very satisfactory understanding of girls and 
women, was asked how she had managed to bring about 
this result. She explained that she had made it a point 
to bring to the house every girl in whom any of her 
sons has shown the slightest interest. She had done 
this from their earliest childhood, so that in a certain 
sense her sons had had “ sisters.” If a corresponding 
plan were adopted by a mother of seven daughters, she 
might be suspected of matrimonial intentions, but she 
could avoid the suspicion if she began while the children 
were still very young; and she might avoid much of 
the inconvenience by placing the children in a co- 
educational school. 
Whether boys and girls should be educated together 
is a question that has agitated parents and educators 
for many years, and no person who has real doubts on 
the subject can be convinced by an offhand answer. 
There are certain aspects of the problem that deserve 
more attention than they have commonly received. 
Quite apart from any of the specific objects we have 
in mind in sending our children to school, we must re- 
member that we expect the children eventually to be- 
come men and women, and as such we shall expect them 
to know how to conduct themselves in mixed company 
of all degrees of complexity. Now the only way that 
children can learn how to conduct themselves in the 
presence of the opposite sex is by being brought up in GIRLS AND BOYS 
59 
the presence of the opposite sex. Those who have 
traveled widely with open eyes can tell you how ap- 
parent are the awkwardness and the self-consciousness 
of children brought up almost exclusively with members 
of their own sex. We may expect the home to do some- 
thing to offset the bad effects of exclusive schools, but 
sisters and brothers do not quite satisfy the needs of 
the situation—there are not enough of them, usually, 
and they are likely to be more familiar than are girls 
and boys found in school and on the playground. 
We may differ as to whether girls and boys should 
be taught altogether the same subjects in school, and 
as to whether they should be taught in altogether the 
same way. But there can hardly be any question that 
much of the daily activity of the growing child should 
be the same for both sexes, and that they should share 
a great deal of each other’s company. 
In every large city, any day, you may go into a 
classroom and find fifty or more growing, squirming, 
restless boys in charge of a tired woman on the verge 
of nervous prostration. This combination is not fair 
to the boys and it is not fair to the teacher. The boys 
certainly need the benefits of feminine associations, but 
do not get it from confinement with a woman teacher 
who has no sympathy for or understanding of their 
instincts and desires and needs. Girls are just as much 
in need of an opportunity to become acquainted with 
the masculine elements of our civilization. The boy 
needs to learn more about feminine nature than he can 
learn from his teacher and mother, and the girl needs 
to know more about masculine nature than she can learn 60 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
from her father and the dancing master. It would thus 
seem desirable, as it is quite feasible, to have girls and 
boys in the same school, doing much of their work in 
the same classes, but separating, when necessary, for 
some of the exercises, and gradually differentiating 
their work as the interests and needs of the sexes 
diverge. 
We have seen boys subjected to the “ feminization ” 
of ladylike teachers and mothers, burst out in good 
season with all the manly virtues—and at least some 
of the vices. We have also seen girls given the com- 
panionship and freedom of their brothers and grow 
into “ very women.” If nothing else, this will show 
us that there is something distinctly masculine or fem- 
inine in the child quite independent of its environment. 
We must give girls and boys the fullest opportunity to 
develop the very best that is in them as girls and boys, 
and this they can do in an environment that is broad 
enough to include all the activities and interests of girls 
as well as of boys. THE GIRL’S OUTLOOK 
Sooner or later every boy begins to build his dreams 
of man’s estate about activities and interests related to 
the world’s work. It is expected of him that he will 
grow up to do something, and even if he has no special 
predilection for work of any kind, he cannot altogether 
escape the feeling that he will have to take his share 
when the time comes. With girls, however, the matter 
is different. Not because girls are necessarily different 
“ by nature.” It is apparently a difference arising out 
of old traditions, for children will do their part to 
meet the prevailing expectations. 
This is shown by the fact that in certain classes of 
society, the only picture the girls can form of their 
adult state is that of managing a household or acting 
as hostess; whereas among others it is the regular thing 
to look forward to work at wages. It is taken for 
granted that the girl will become a wife and mother; 
or it is taken for granted that the girl will earn her 
living. With comparatively rare exceptions, the as- 
sumptions thus made will give color to the girl’s out- 
look and tone to her work of preparation. 
In spite of the fact that women are entering gainful 
occupations in ever increasing numbers, and in spite of 
the fact that women remain at “ work ” longer and 
longer periods, it is still to be expected that most girls 
will marry, and that they will become heads of house- 62 
EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
holds and of families. The problem of training for 
the adult years is thus complicated for the girl, in a 
way that does not appear with the boy. With the boy 
grown up, the vocation is the main concern of his time 
and thought; marriage and family are considered to 
be rather incidental. With the girl grown up, on the 
contrary, the home must be the chief concern, whereas 
any other occupation is considered incidental. 
Since it is impossible to know beforehand, in any 
given case, whether your daughter will or will not 
marry and have the opportunities and the responsibili- 
ties of wife and mother, it would seem to be necessary 
to give all girls preparation suitable for the married 
state. And since, whether she marries or not, every 
girl should be prepared to meet the requirements of 
modern life in the way of useful service, she must carry 
the additional burden of preparation for some kind 
of remunerative work. With the girl who feels a 
“ call ” for special work, the problem usually settles 
itself. This girl is likely to neglect everything and 
concentrate her efforts on preparation for the one thing 
important to her. She will throw herself into her work 
with the singleness of purpose that we usually expect 
of a good worker. Later, if chance and changing in- 
terests direct her thoughts to the traditional “ place ” 
for women, her problem is an individual one, and she 
will make her preparations in the thorough and sys- 
tematic manner that she previously applied to her voca- 
tional training. With the vast majority of girls there 
is no “ call,” and there is the need to look ahead and 
to prepare. THE GIRL’S OUTLOOK 
63 
Every girl should therefore be trained for some occu- 
pation worth entering, and this with the standards not 
of the transient or casual worker, but with those of one 
who means to make a life work of it. But this at once 
raises the question whether it is worth while to spend 
the time and effort and money necessary for such train- 
ing, in view of the probability that it may not be used 
to the full after it is acquired. It may be said that it 
is worth while for every girl to become an expert in 
some line of activity, even if she does not need to depend 
upon it for her livelihood. It gives one a certain sense 
of confidence to feel this reserve strength of fitness. 
Moreover, according to the newer views in education, 
the culture and training to be gained through becoming 
an expert worker in some useful line are just as valu- 
able as those to be acquired through the old-fashioned 
“ general ” education. 
And yet we cannot help feeling that there is a certain 
element of unreality in training girls for work with a 
mental reservation or hope that they will not make use 
of the training. Is it quite sincere to drill Dorothy 
in designing or telegraphy, while wishing, and while 
teaching her to wish, that she may escape the necessity 
of applying her skill? 
It is impossible to solve Dorothy’s problem in an 
entirely satisfactory way, unless we are willing to face 
the larger question of woman’s work, and of woman’s 
place in the new society. The rising generation will 
have to solve the problem. Can we help them better 
by ignoring it and making our individual adjustments 
as best we may, or can we accomplish more by looking EVERY ONE IN HIS OWN WAY 
at it squarely and, accepting the conditions, fight 
through to some conclusion? 
Our daughters are growing up, yours and mine. 
Must we anticipate for them the choice between a life 
of idleness on the one hand, and the unsatisfactory 
conditions that prevail in most women’s occupations on 
the other? Must we accept for them either casual 
work, and all this implies—perhaps for a short while, 
perhaps for a lifetime—or as the only alternative an ex- 
pensive training for high grade efficiency that may be 
utilized for but a short period and then go to waste? 
Must we have them look forward to an empty and idle 
middle age (after their children shall no longer need 
their continuous attention) either because they are not 
prepared for work worth doing, or because the organ- 
ization of work does not permit them to utilize their 
training after the necessary interruptions? 
This is not Dorothy’s problem, it is your problem 
and mine, and any of you women who have the time 
and the energy would do well to consider this problem 
of woman’s work, as it is bound to affect your daugh- 
ters—and your sons, too. THE CHANGING CHILD THE UNFINISHED CHILD 
The famous saying, “ Give me the first few years of 
the child’s life and I care not who has the rest,” has be- 
come classic. The importance of these early years 
in the making of character is shown by the fact that 
teachers of primary grades and of kindergartens often 
complain of children being “ spoiled ” before they come 
to school age. There is no doubt that many children 
have acquired at the age of six or seven years undesir- 
able or even vicious habits. 
Moreover, many a child has had good habits started 
in his infancy, and even lofty ideals inculcated before 
leaving the mother’s apron strings. It is therefore a 
very easy matter to conclude that the character and 
the talents of the child are fixed, and fixed irrevocably, 
in the earliest years of life. 
But the implication of our classic saying, that the 
work of training the child or of giving him his “ bent,” 
can be finished during these early years, is essentially 
false. For the child is a growing “ system ” of in- 
stincts and capacities, and at every stage the further 
development may be influenced by the surroundings. 
At every stage it is therefore necessary that he be 
guided into habits which will be worth while, and that 
he be protected from influences which may be injurious. 
It is impossible in three years, or in thirteen years, to 
provide a training that will insure sound habits for the 
67 68 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
rest of life. The reason for this is not hard to under- 
stand. 
At birth the child has but few instincts, and these 
have to do chiefly with sucking when something is placed 
in the mouth, and grasping when something is placed 
in the hand. On the basis of these instincts very little 
education is possible. In the course of the first year of 
life the child can learn to go to sleep when placed in a 
certain position, he can learn to wait for his food, he 
can learn to handle various objects more or less awk- 
wardly, he can learn to associate happy or unhappy 
feelings with various expressions of the face, or with 
the tones of the voice, and he can learn to follow certain 
suggestions—such as to refrain from touching particu- 
lar things, or to lie down, or to clap his hands, and so 
on. This kind of “ obedience ” is a good beginning; 
it lays the foundations for the future, but will not in- 
sure obedience later. Regular habits of eating and 
sleeping and playing will be very useful for the time 
being, and they will serve as a basis for maintaining 
regularity later. But they will not, if abandoned at 
this point, insure regularity in the years to come. 
In the second year, the child gives evidence of a 
growing curiosity about the doings of people and about 
the workings of things. He will imitate movements of 
animals and machines as well as of human beings. He 
will learn to walk and he will learn to talk. He will 
begin to discern between himself and what is not him- 
self. He will come to recognize expressions of approval 
and of disapproval, and will begin to care. At this 
time he can learn to walk correctly, and to speak cor- THE UNFINISHED CHILD 
69 
rectly, so far as the vocabulary and the control of the 
speech organs will let him. But we cannot insure the 
future gait and the future speech by concentrating our 
attention on the correct use of the locomotor and speech 
organs during the first few years. Being imitative, it 
is well the child should have good models; but the best 
models now will hardly protect him against bad models 
later. Being sensitive to approval and disapproval, he 
will profit from our high standards of conduct—child 
conduct, of course—for the present and for some time 
to come; but these standards will not last forever. 
From year to year, new instincts will appear. And 
as each arises, the time will be most favorable for 
learning to control those activities that are related to 
the instinct in question. When later the native interests 
begin to shift from joy in the mere doing of something 
to satisfaction in the results of the activity, it is time 
to develop ideas of perseverance and ideals of work- 
manship and thoroughness. It is absolutely impossible 
to do this, however, before the seventh or eighth year 
of the child’s life because the child cannot before this 
time look far enough ahead to understand the relation 
of present effort to future achievement. 
In the same way, it is impossible for a child to learn 
to cooperate in work or in play with others before he 
has acquired an interest in carrying undertakings to 
a conclusion, and before he has acquired certain skill 
in doing things, and can therefore take part in “ team ” 
operations. No matter how solicitous parents and 
teachers may be with the younger children, the virtues 
of the team play must be developed when the instincts 70 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
are ready to be molded into the forms that society con- 
siders best. 
One of the reasons why children of different ages do 
not get along well together lies, of course, in the varied 
experiences they have had. The older children know 
so much more and understand so much more. But a 
much deeper reason lies in the fact that the interests 
and capacities are so distinct at different ages that 
these children do not have sufficient in common. It is 
the fact that the instincts arise in succession that is 
important in grading the work and play of children, 
rather than differences in experience, although these 
are also important. We should not, however, seek to 
isolate the child in the home, as we segregate children 
of about the same age in school. A part of the child’s 
education consists in his learning to adjust himself to 
living with those of different interests and tastes, 
through the give and take of the home. 
We may thus see that it is a serious mistake to 
assume that careful attention to the details of a child’s 
life for the first few years will, without regard to later 
circumstances, provide a suitable basis for all the future 
development. Not only are there innumerable examples 
of the disaster that comes from later neglect; there are 
also countless cases of children who were sadly neg- 
lected during the first few years of life and then came 
out triumphantly as a result of proper later treatment. 
In the development of the child every day counts, and 
must be used to its full capacity, until the personality 
is a completely formed character that can be relied 
upon to continue its own development. THE PASSING IDEALS 
Every normal child is bound to shock his elders bj 
giving voice to ideals that those elders have already 
outgrown. The latter are shocked only because they 
have forgotten that they ever entertained similar ideals 
themselves. If they could only think back to the days 
when they longed for the careers of pirates or Indian 
squaws they would recognize that these comparatively 
crude ideals nevertheless represent real Teachings 
towards the best and highest. 
It is important for parents to guard against impos- 
ing ready-made ideals upon their children, regardless 
of fit. The ideals of the child, if they are to be of any 
use in life, are to be his ideals, the outgrowths of his 
experiences and thinking, the developments of his per- 
sonality. Moreover, our ideals must be as fluid and as 
expansive as life itself. It is therefore out of the ques- 
tion to set up any finality as the aim of the child’s 
ambitions. 
While eating his lunch with his mother one day, 
Georgie remarked, apropos of nothing in particular, 
that he wished to be like Sir Galahad. Mother was 
delighted, but of course she did not show it too forcibly; 
and later she told father, and he was delighted, too. 
But father could not contain his joy so easily, and 
casually observed, the following Sunday, that he knew 
where there was a nice picture of Sir Galahad, that 
71 THE CHANGING CHILD 
might be suitable for Georgie’s room. This was just 
to draw the boy out, you understand. 
Georgie was delighted with father’s suggestion; but 
he volunteered nothing further. Father was at last 
driven to asking rather bluntly what Georgie admired 
so in the famous knight. “ Oh,” explained the boy, 
“ I wish I could be like Sir Galahad and wear armor 
and go around and fight people and kill ’em! ” 
This was really shocking; and both parents were at 
a complete loss. Here they had been cherishing the 
satisfying delusion that their hopeful was fired by lofty 
ideals; and suddenly they realized that Georgie was 
just as barbarous and cruel as—as other boys of his 
age. It was more than disappointing. 
When the young son of a certain minister announced 
that he intended to be a policeman, the mother tried to 
hide her chagrin in recognition of the fact that every 
individual has his limitations; and she tried to resign 
herself with the reflection that a policeman may be a 
useful member of society. But the father was wiser— 
this time. He encouraged Donald to emulate all the 
virtues of a policeman that the child was old enough 
to appreciate. The mother had feared that this would 
get Donald fixed in the resolve; the father simply 
sought to take advantage of the temporary interest to 
establish all the good habits that the situation would 
allow. 
We know why parents feel more pride and satisfaction 
when the child’s ambition turns toward the professions 
or finance than when it turns toward the more violent 
forms of human activity. But there is really something THE PASSING IDEALS 
73 
uncanny about the child who jumps—in his mind, that 
is—from his building blocks to being bank president or 
mayor, without ever dreaming of being a motorman or 
jockey or conductor or hunter. Should your son de- 
clare his intention of becoming a judge, you would no 
doubt be sufficiently pleased to show it, and your neigh- 
bors would not be long in finding it out. But should 
he set his heart on becoming a miner or a bricklayer, 
you would probably discourage his further confidences, 
and take pains to hide his ambitions from all your 
friends. 
But unless you know just what it is that is so attrac- 
tive to him in the career of the judge or of the miner, 
you are really not in a position to do very much that 
is helpful. If the judge means to the child sitting on 
a bench and doing nothing, and living in a fine house 
with many attendants, the ideal is of very little moral 
value. If being a bricklayer means being active and 
procuring visible results it has great possibilities for 
moral development. 
In any case, the young person’s ideals are not to be 
laughed away; the sneer will do more than you intend. 
However unworthy the childish ambition may at first 
seem, it is more important to preserve the ability to 
dream dreams, it is more important to preserve faith 
in ideals, than it is to correct values. Perhaps your 
child is capable of aspiring to something loftier than 
the career of traveling showman; but to sneer the show- 
man out of his life is not to substitute your ideal of 
service—it is to discourage all attempts to look into the 
future. THE CHANGING CHILD 
Every ideal that the child can formulate, no matter 
how simple, may be made to serve a useful purpose. 
There are virtues in every line of activity, and whether 
the model for the time be a savage chief or a school- 
teacher, whether it be a sailor or a trained nurse, the 
fact that the child’s imagination has been touched must 
be used for fixing right habits, and for developing prin- 
ciples of action. 
There is little danger that these childish ideals will 
restrict the girl or boy in his development. They are 
rather to be looked upon as the means whereby the 
child acquires the habit of thinking of life’s problems 
in terms of the ideal. And this habit is worth so much 
that it offsets any disadvantages that may appear for 
the time being. 
As children become older, their ambitions will be in- 
fluenced by more and more practical considerations— 
such as questions of income and social standing associ- 
ated with each occupation; but while they may, let them 
dream dreams. THE DABBLING ADOLESCENT 
After dinner the grown-ups sat about on rockers 
down on the lawn, while the younger people danced on 
the wide veranda, to the music of a phonograph. 
A father was saying that so far as he could observe, 
the chief reason for the high cost of living was to be 
found in the fact that the young people are so fickle 
in their tastes. He did not remember just how many 
dollars—but they were many—his son Percy had in- 
vested in cameras and ruby lights and dishes and chemi- 
cals less than a year ago; and now he did not care a 
bit about photography. Was going in for geology, 
and had decided to go to college just to have a chance 
to study that. 
Father thought that he might have stuck to photogra- 
phy and finally worked into the business—it is a pretty 
good business—or he might have made up his mind 
about geology last year and have saved all that money. 
Mrs. Darling felt the same sort of grievance, for 
her Genevieve had made such a muss about the house 
with her photographs and things, and now she hardly 
ever takes her camera out. Indeed, Genevieve has had 
four hobbies since she took up with the camera—there 
was raising pansies, and hand-painted china, and the 
foreign missions, and now it’s dancing. The Darlings 
never mention the cost of anything; but such shifting 
and restlessness is very distracting. 
75 76 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
Another mother observed that, after all, we have to 
expect to do a great deal for our children, but she did 
fear that her son was frittering away altogether too 
much time in ways that would prove to be unprofitable. 
He gave up collecting stamps when his album was far 
from full, and there it was, after all that work, doing 
nobody any good. And it was the same way with his 
wireless telegraph. They had had so much trouble get- 
ting a permit for the masts, and he had worked so 
hard studying the codes until he was able to pick up 
all sorts of curious and interesting messages (the 
mother could not conceal her pride behind her com- 
plaints) and now all was abandoned since he met that 
North boy who got him interested in ants! What all 
this would lead to, goodness only knew, and she was 
patient enough, goodness also knew. 
Mr. Burrowes, who dreaded the water, felt the same 
way about it; for had not his son dabbled about in a 
dozen—yes, a score—of useless hobbies, only to turn 
around suddenly with his mind made up to enter the 
Naval Academy next year, when he will be old enough? 
As if there were not a hundred excellent things to do 
on the solid earth! And Mr. Burrowes proceeded to 
enumerate some of them, though he stopped long before 
he reached ten. 
But the fathers and mothers in the party worried 
altogether more than they had a right to. Or at least, 
if they were entitled to all that worry, they worried in 
the wrong direction. The young people, if they are 
fairly healthy, and if they are fairly free to find out 
about what’s going on in the world, and if they are THE DABBLING ADOLESCENT 
77 
fairly free to go in for things that do not bring in 
money—or especially if they have a chance to go in 
for things that cost money—are quite sure to take up 
one absorbing hobby after another. It is just because 
there are so many excellent things to do on the solid 
earth—and in the air, and in the water, too—that they 
need several years to find out which they would rather 
do. And apparently the only way to find out is by 
trying the feel of them. 
Of course this is rather expensive, because the things 
with which they clutter up the house are never entirely 
used, and they form a worthless collection of junk to 
mark the meanderings of the adolescent mind. But the 
most serious concern is not the cost in money, for, 
where the money is not to be had, we find the same 
tendency to jump from one interest to another. The 
fear of adults is always that the growing girl or boy 
will become a dabbler, a “ rolling stone,” an unsettled 
wanderer without definite purpose or goal. And it 
must be admitted that once in so often, a person 
reaches years of maturity without finding a guiding 
aim in life. 
For the adolescents in general, however, this rapid 
shifting of interest seems to be the normal manifesta- 
tion of the rapid development going on within the 
organism. The changes in the nervous system bring 
forth a multitude of new interests and new impulses 
which simply cannot all find expression at the same 
time, and which crowd upon each other in such fashion 
that now one and now another breaks to the surface 
in quick succession. To people of comparatively fixed 78 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
habits and conventionalized standards, these fickle ways 
are not only annoying, but often even alarming. Those 
of us who cannot remember the golden days when we 
wavered between the operatic stage and a lonely island 
in the South Sea, or between saving the world from 
selfishness and sin and becoming the chief of a band of 
brigands, simply cannot understand this fickleness. It 
does seem so inconsistent, so unreasonable—and what 
will it all lead to? But a more serious problem is the 
adolescent who does not show a wide range of interests, 
who does not experiment with many possibilities. 
The adolescent years are those in which the child 
feels that he can do anything that human beings can 
ever do; and in truth no one has yet found the limits 
of what he can do. The rapid growth in physical and 
mental strength gives rise to the feeling of unlimited 
growth; and past performances quickly lose their in- 
terest with the advent of new powers. All the possibili- 
ties of the child come to the front and it is only as 
these are tried out that the most profitable lines of 
development can be discovered. 
The danger for most children during this period of 
growth and impression is not in the dissipation through 
contact with too many lines of interest, but in the lack 
of opportunity to try out enough to give a broad sym- 
pathy, a far outlook, and a wise choice of permanent 
interest. 
Let the children dabble while the dabbling is good; 
soon it will be too late. WATCHFUL WAITING. 
Parents naturally harbor secret ambitions as to the 
future of the children; we know that, because they 
sometimes let the secret out. And it is quite natural 
that they should because they transfer to their children 
the hopes of their own youth, the hopes that never 
crystallized into reality. We can therefore understand 
why the scribblings of Alice should suggest fine writing 
to the mother, or why Tommy’s tinkering with the 
decrepit alarm-clock should remind the father of that 
other Thomas, the great inventor. 
Not only is it easy to understand why parents dream 
these dreams—which must appear rather stupid or con- 
ceited to spinsters, and to the parents of other children 
—but it is very desirable that they should continue 
their dreaming and planning. 
Alice, nearly three, very busy scribbling forest and 
cloud effects on the back of a circular letter, was quite 
oblivious to the presence and conversation of her mother 
and a visitor. “ Can she write yet? ” asked the visitor. 
“ Oh, no,” beamed the mother, “ we do not wish to hurry 
her. But she does love to play with pencils and paper, 
and I think she is going to be an author.” The visitor 
smiled indulgently, and said, “ Isn’t that interesting! ” 
But this is what she thought: “ Bosh! She is just 
as likely to become a cheap clerk or a fourth rate 
stenographer.” 
79 80 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
Which is quite true; only there is no use discouraging 
parents too early in the game. For entertaining hopes 
concerning children is about the surest way of guiding 
our plans and bringing unity into our treatment of the 
developing personality. The hopes can certainly do 
no harm—unless they blind us. But that is the real 
danger. 
For if we have nothing to guide us but our hopes, 
we are just as likely to be moved—or paralyzed—by 
our fears. It is “ natural ” for parents to translate 
the occasional interesting activities of their children 
into possibilities for achievement. But it is just as 
“ natural ” to translate the annoying or unconven- 
tional activities into gnawing fear. 
We are wonderfully ignorant about the kinds of 
qualities and capacities that are required in the various 
occupations. And we are just as ignorant about the 
possible development of the various characteristics that 
children show at the successive stages of their growth. 
We do know that there are misfits in every line of en- 
deavor, and in nearly every family. But usually we do 
not know the reason in detail—until it is too late—nor 
what use could have been made of the interests and 
native abilities of each child. 
Charles Darwin tells us in his autobiography of being 
rebuked by the schoolmaster for wasting his time on 
such subjects as chemistry. We should explain this by 
saying that the schoolmaster had no appreciation of a 
subject of which he was totally ignorant. But he tells 
us further that he was greatly mortified when his father 
once said to him, “ You care for nothing but shooting, WATCHFUL WAITING 
81 
dogs, and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace to 
yourself and all your family.” Now Darwin’s father 
was not an ignorant man, and he was not unsympa- 
thetic ; but his imagination was not equal to interpret- 
ing the child’s interests and activities in terms other 
than those of loafing, shooting, and rat-catching. 
But if the experience of Darwin should lead anyone 
to predict a great scientific career for the son of similar 
proclivities, he must be warned. For the youth of 
Patrick Henry was characterized by alternating 
spasms of running wild and hunting in the woods and 
spells of extreme laziness. “ No persuasion could bring 
him either to read or to work,” his biographer writes, 
“ and every omen foretold a life, at best of mediocrity, 
if not of insignificance.” Which only supports the old 
suspicion that you must not put too much trust in 
omens. 
Again and again, we find cases of children who filled 
their parents with despair and their teachers with dis- 
gust, only to emerge later into men and women of dis- 
tinction and high social value. A timid youth, back- 
ward in school and slow to give any sign of internal 
fires, develops occasionally into a leader in thought or 
in action. 
Henry Ward Beecher was so bashful and reticent as 
a boy that he gave the impression, according to his 
sister, of “ stolid stupidity.” In addition to this he 
was a poor writer and speller, and had a “ thick utter- 
ance.” No one would have guessed that this ten-year- 
old boy was to become a brilliant orator, especially 
when compared with other children of the family who 82 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
memorized their lessons readily and recited them with 
grace and eloquence, in marked contrast to the con- 
fused and stammering Henry. 
John Adams gave no sign of abilities beyond the 
ordinary until well along in years. And, but for the 
circumstances of the Civil War, Ulysses S. Grant would 
have remained an obscure, uninteresting and “ unsuc- 
cessful ” drifter. 
On the other hand, many a precocious child seems to 
stop short in his development long before there is the 
maturity or the opportunity to begin to accomplish 
things of importance. In many cases the failure to 
fulfil the early promises is due to an arrest of develop- 
ment, which is apparently of organic origin. In other 
cases, however, the child of ability is either discour- 
aged by the lack of appreciation, or an excess of appre- 
ciation may remove the stimulus for further effort. 
But we are not to suppose that every brilliant child 
will necessarily become a mediocre adult, nor that every 
backward child is to develop into a genius. 
The fact is that the “ abilities ” of a child are in a 
state of constant change. At no time may we say of 
the child that he has exhibited a final manifestation of 
his possibilities or of his limitations. Furthermore, the 
individuality of a child need not take the form of 
specialized fitness for some particular occupation. In- 
deed, it is probable that only very few children have 
naturally such specialized fitness. Most children are 
sufficiently plastic and adaptable to be trained for a 
large variety of occupations, and it is a mistake to ex- 
pect of the ordinary child a specialized interest (in a WATCHFUL WAITING 
83 
vocational sense) or to feel disappointment when the 
interest shifts from one line of work to another. Nor 
is it desirable that children be encouraged too early to 
specialize their studies in a way that will force a choice 
of occupation. We must utilize every interest as it 
appears, for there is no stronger source of motives for 
applications and exertions and sacrifice. But we must 
not let the current interests and activities exclude fur- 
ther development. 
Another danger of early specialization lies in the 
fact that through such specialization the child is likely 
to be shut out from associations and experiences with 
children of diverse tastes and outlooks, and thus become 
narrowed in his sympathies and appreciations. 
From a practical point of view, it is well to realize 
that the conditions and requirements in all occupa- 
tions—the professional and commercial as well as the 
industrial—are changing very rapidly. This makes 
it impossible to anticipate very far ahead the special 
adaptabilities of a given boy or girl. The qualities 
that made a man a successful family physician a gen- 
eration ago will not insure his son a satisfactory career 
in the same calling. 
Even if we could gage with a fair degree of accuracy 
the capacities of children, we should not be in a posi- 
tion to guide most of them very definitely until they are 
well along in their adolescence. But we have not yet 
learned to gage the possibilities of growing young 
organisms. The “ inattentive ” Isaac Newton, the “ dul- 
lard ” Robert Fulton, the “indolent” James Russell 
Lowell, the “ weak-minded ” David Hume, and hundreds 84 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
of others challenge our methods of estimating the 
powers and characters of children. These, more than 
the disappointments we feel in the failure of our children 
to realize our great expectations, make us question our 
standards and systems and signs. 
In view of the common failure to anticipate the ulti- 
mate achievements of children, it would seem much wiser 
to draw all possible encouragement and stimulus from 
the positive manifestations, to watch constantly for the 
best, rather than to fear and despair for the weaknesses. 
We must not, however, fall into the too common error 
of looking to some form of leadership as the sole meas- 
ure of success in our children’s development. In the 
first place, those peculiar combinations of qualities that 
make for leadership are simply not present in every 
child, and we cannot cultivate what is not there. It 
is therefore unwise to set our hearts upon the attaining 
of what is precluded from the start. In the second 
place, from the very nature of things, it is impossible 
for all to become leaders. It is therefore unwise to 
cherish a philosophy of success that condemns most of 
us to failure in advance. Society does not need every 
child to become a leader, nor does every child need to 
become one for his own happiness. We may well expect 
that the application of more thought and more knowl- 
edge to the problems of child training will result in 
increasing proportions of successful living, but this 
will come about not necessarily through increasing the 
proportions of leaders, but through elevating the level 
of all our lives, by enlarging our appreciations, by re- 
fining our sensibilities, by expanding our resources. GRADING THE CHILD’S TEMPTATIONS 
In the books we read, many of the interesting inci- 
dents turn on the more or less ingenious and more or 
less successful contrivances of the young people to 
escape or circumvent the prohibitions or orders of the 
older people. The circus is to come to town next week, 
and Billy is explicitly told that he is not to attend; yet 
somehow Billy manages to be there when the clown 
tumbles off the elephant’s back—and somehow the stern 
and righteous parents fail to know about it until too 
late. Caroline was very anxious to go to the dance 
they were going to have at Cobb’s, and said so. But 
her mother was equally anxious that she should not 
go—for reasons of her own—and also said so. But on 
the night of the dance Caroline was there, while her 
parents supposed she was spending the night with her 
friend Jenny, and had forgotten all about the dance. 
This sort of thing happens so frequently in real life 
that even those who never read any books can multiply 
instances. What I am most curious about in this con- 
nection is not explained either in the books or in the 
ordinary conversation of the people we meet. Just 
what is it that parents have in mind when they lay 
down their orders, in direct and obvious opposition to 
the wishes of the children? Do they feel satisfied that 
the issuing of an order is sufficient to bring about the 
desired result? Do they expect the children to accept 86 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
the word of authority and immediately dismiss their 
own longings and yearnings? 
To make a child do something that is contrary to his 
liking, you have but to employ sufficient coercion—and 
he will go through the motions. But unless he comes 
to like it, the temptation will always be to shirk or 
evade the imposed task. It is therefore unwise to leave 
a child too long to himself with the responsibility of 
completing the unpleasant duties. And it is unfair, 
when he falls down, to upbraid him for his failure. The 
younger the child, the more difficult it is for him to 
keep before his mind the desirability of doing the un- 
pleasant. And the more difficult is it for him to keep 
in mind the penalty of failure. What we require of 
children should be adapted to their growing ability to 
bear responsibility. 
This, it seems, is what the parents of the Billies and 
the Carolines have overlooked. They have issued their 
forbiddings and then turned to other affairs; the 
children, however, do not forget the heart’s desires. 
The embargo is merely an obstacle to be overcome; if 
teasing will not lift the embargo, then the blockade 
must be run. It would be a good plan for the parents 
to keep a calendar and then prepare themselves to meet 
critical periods in advance. Billy’s father, for exam- 
ple, fearing the demoralizing effects of the circus, 
whether wisely or not, should have arranged for some 
other event to absorb the interests and energies and the 
time that went normally to the circus. In like manner, 
Caroline’s mother should have anticipated the night of 
the dance with provisions for a different way of spend- GRADING THE CHILD’S TEMPTATIONS 
87 
ing the time. There are many ways of substituting 
one interest for another; but ignoring the wishes of 
children or forbidding their satisfaction will either 
tempt to intrigue and disobedience, or arouse resent- 
ment and bitterness. 
Four-year-old Richard, about to leave after a visit 
with his mother, was given two candies for himself and 
two to take home to his brother. He promptly dis- 
posed of his own, and the others were wrapped and 
placed in his pocket. Later in the day, when the 
brother came home, he was informed that Richard had 
some candy for him; but when Richard was questioned, 
he declared that “ they all melted away.” Of course 
they had not melted away, except in his mouth; the 
story simply indicated the limit of his resources in 
inventing an explanation for their disappearance that 
would not react too severely upon himself. He had to 
admit, finally, that he had eaten them, and he then 
showed the appropriate kind and amount of remorse. 
While it was proper to intrust the child with the can- 
dies to take home to his brother, it was really too much 
to expect him to remain their custodian, unwatched, for 
two hours. The confidence in the child was not pro- 
portioned to his ability to resist the temptation, and 
was therefore misplaced. The candies should have 
been taken from him after he came home; he had ful- 
filled his duty in bringing them home without invading 
their integrity. A child of seven or eight could easily 
have carried the burden of temptation for a longer 
period, but for the younger child it is usually too much. 
Elizabeth, when she was eight years old, developed 88 
THE CHANGING CHILD 
an unusual appetite for sugar, and was constantly at 
the sugar bowl. The mother at last resorted to a 
locked cupboard, where she unostentatiously placed the 
sugar bowl, beyond the reach of temptation. Some of 
her friends criticised this action, on the theory that 
she was thus weakening Elizabeth’s will. But the 
mother was probably right. Nothing is to be gained 
by intrusting the child with a duty that she is unable 
to meet; and nothing is gained by exposing her to ex- 
cessive temptation. While it is true that the will is 
strengthened by overcoming temptations, it is equally 
true that it suffers when compelled to yield too often. 
Too much trust is virtually too much temptation. Con- 
fidence in a child, like responsibility, should be propor- 
tioned to the child’s ability to use it properly. 
Mrs. Annie Winsor Allen well says in her Home, 
School and Vacation: “Life is full of temptations. 
We should not unnecessarily multiply them by asking 
of a child more self-restraint than he has yet fully 
learned. It is fair to trust a child of ten not to run 
away, but it is not fair to trust a child of three. It is 
not fair to leave ‘ yellow journals ’ round and then tell 
a child of any age that you trust him not to read them. 
The temptation is too strong and constant.” RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT THE WONDERING CHILD 
Curiosity has been called the mother of all knowl- 
edge and the nuisance of all mothers. No doubt there 
is some truth in both characterizations, although much 
of our knowledge comes to us quite uninvited and 
many mothers do not find the perpetual queries of 
their children at all annoying. 
The normal child begins to ask questions in the 
fourth year of his life, usually, and how long he will 
keep it up depends very largely on outside circum- 
stances. It is quite possible to make him stop very 
soon, as by making sure that the questions never bring 
any satisfying results. It is also possible to make him 
continue the practice for many years, as by making 
sure that the asking of a question always brings an 
interesting or satisfying result. The great explorers 
and discoverers were the boys and girls who retained 
the habit of asking questions, and at the same time 
acquired some skill in getting their questions an- 
swered. 
We must not suppose, however, that all questions 
are worth while, or that all kinds of questions are 
equally worth encouraging. On the contrary, it is very 
easy for the little boy or the little girl to get the habit 
of asking questions that should be promptly and de- 
cidedly discouraged. 92 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
Little Henry missed his father after two days of 
absence, and asked his mother, “Where is papa?” 
The mother answered that he had to go to Chicago. 
“Why did he have to go to Chicago?” asked Henry. 
This question was the natural response of the child to 
a new intellectual situation; it was the first time that 
he had ever heard of anyone being obliged to do such 
a thing. The mother then answered, “ He had to go 
on some business.” But Henry still pursued her: 
“ Why did he have to go on some business? ” By this 
time the child had lost interest in the mysteries of Chi- 
cago and in his father’s absence, and was prepared to 
meet each statement with a “ Why ? ” 
Strings of questions of this kind usually indicate not 
a live curiosity on the successive problems suggested 
by the answers, but a mechanical habit of saying the 
thing that will bring some sort of response—they are 
the precursors of what later in life becomes the waste- 
ful and stupid habit of “ making conversation ”. While 
recognizing fully the child’s right to have all sincere 
questions answered, we must also resist the tendency 
to encourage empty talk masquerading as curiosity. 
These questions certainly have the same form as those 
that are actuated by a genuine desire for knowledge 
or for understanding, and we must be constantly on 
our guard against being deceived by the form. This 
does not mean that the child deliberately seeks to de- 
ceive us by making his conversation take the form of 
questions. Without meaning to deceive us, however, 
the child soon learns what kind of talk will keep the 
ball rolling—if we let him. THE WONDERING CHILD 
93 
The questions that spring from curiosity are of cwo 
main kinds, one pertaining entirely to facts, the other 
seeking for explanations. In answering the child’s 
questions, there is one thing that the sincere parent 
must learn early—that is, how to say “ I don’t know.” 
This, as you have no doubt observed, is a very difficult 
thing for most people to learn; but it is absolutely 
essential if you are to retain the confidence and respect 
of the learning child for a long time. Many people 
fear to say these words, on the supposition that to 
admit ignorance is to weaken the regard of the ques- 
tioner. The other side of the problem is to retain the 
regard of the child after he finds out that you have 
been pretending to knowledge and understanding which 
you do not possess. 
When it comes to questions about matters of fact— 
such questions as have to do with names and dates and 
places and authorship and geographical or scientific 
data—you will often be cornered for lack of 
the necessary knowledge. Having learned to say “ I 
don’t know ” in such situations, is not sufficient. The 
next step is to accept your share of the child’s burden, 
and make the problem a common one for the two of 
you. “ I don’t know, but let us see how we can find 
out.” This should express the attitude of the helpful 
companion. You might send your daughter to the 
encyclopedia, or to some other repository of knowl- 
edge, or you might arrange to look the matter up to- 
gether. When a child is actually in search of informa- 
tion on any subject, he ought to get it and he ought to 
get it while his interest is still active. 94 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
Questions as to how and why things are thus 
and so need to be treated in a somewhat different way. 
The easiest thing to do when Henry asks, “ Why has 
the elephant such a long nose? ” is to tell him that it 
is natural to elephants, or that God made it that way, 
or that this enables him to pick his food from the 
ground without too much effort. A little reflection will 
show us that such answers really do not explain. And 
as a matter of fact, such questions cannot be answered 
in a common-sense way. The best we can do is to 
direct the child’s attention to the relation of the ele- 
phant’s long nose to the conditions under which the 
elephant lives and gets his food and to get him inter- 
ested in finding out just how the organs of the animal 
work. In the same way the working of a mechanism 
of any kind—which is likely to be especially interesting 
to boys—can be explained by referring to the connec- 
tions between the parts, or to the relations between the 
processes and the products. Where the explanations 
can be connected with the child’s earlier experiences 
this should always be done. So far as possible the 
child should be encouraged to think out the answers to 
his questions in terms of what he already knows; careful 
questioning in return for his questions will often bring 
the desired result. 
Not only should the child’s past experience be util- 
ized in helping him answer his own questions, but so 
far as may be all of his past experience and knowledge 
should be related to every new question. To show the 
child that his question about where cocoa comes from 
means more that getting the name of a country is to give THE WONDERING CHILD 
95 
him more than he knew enough to ask for. Show him 
that getting cocoa means industry and trade and navi- 
gation and the hard work of thousands of men and 
women, and so make every question worth while that 
drivel will find no place in the child’s day. EXAMPLE AND PRECEPT 
The separation of precept from the actual practices 
of the people who surround the child is seen in many 
ways. When Agnes loses her patience with her puppy 
or with her sewing, we rebuke her gently and tell her 
that it is not ladylike to scold or fret in such a manner. 
Agnes is duly impressed. But when we are trying to 
add up a column of figures on the grocer’s bill and the 
child’s senseless and interminable babble irritates us to— 
a certain point—we blurt out something that is neither 
polite in manner nor parliamentary in substance. And 
again Agnes is duly impressed. In time she wrill no 
doubt learn to control herself; but we must not wonder 
that our repeated admonitions fail to bring quicker 
results. The admonitions produce their effects; but 
our outbursts produce their counter effects. 
At a gathering of mothers, the ever recurring prob- 
lem of children’s lies was under discussion. One of 
those present told of a troublesome case. The more 
experienced suggested various remedies, such as dis- 
covering the type of lie, to see whether it was over- 
activity of the imagination, or fear, or slovenly think- 
ing, or whatever else it might be that led the child 
along the path of untruthfulness. “ Oh, his mother 
has tried everything; she has punished him and prom- 
ised him rewards, but he keeps on lying,” said the 
woman who had introduced the horrible example. 
96 EXAMPLE AND PRECEPT 
97 
As the family of the child in question was not known 
to those present, the suggestions were soon exhausted; 
but one of the mothers made the casual observation, 
“ Of course, a great deal depends upon the home envi- 
ronment of the child. If the people at home lie—even 
about little things—the threats and promises will not 
break the child. One bad example will offset ten good 
precepts.” 
This was very illuminating. The first speaker said: 
“ Now that I come to think of it, there is something 
in that. I was taking David’s younger brother with 
me to the museum last week, and just before we got to 
the car he said, ‘ You do not have to pay my fare be- 
cause mother never does; I can say I am only five.’ 
Now I do not suppose the child invented that himself.” 
This incident illusrates one class of cases in which 
we expect the child to do as we say, in spite of all that 
we do. The hundreds of “ white lies ” that grown-ups 
tell day after day, without even being aware that they 
are using inflated or figurative language, are accepted 
by the children as literally true, or as models of diplo- 
macy. 
When we consider how difficult it is for the young 
child to attain to habits and ideals of truthfulness, we 
must see the importance of giving him all the help pos- 
sible through sympathetic understanding and through 
the removal of all unnecessary temptations—especially 
the temptation to imitate his elders in untruthfulness. 
We wish our children to be friendly in their manner 
to all with whom they come in contact. We never tire 
of preaching friendliness to them. Nay, we go even 98 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
farther; we set them excellent examples by our con- 
duct in the presence of guests, or when on a visit. But 
have the children ever heard us make derogatory re- 
marks about these very people to whom we have taken 
so much pains to appear friendly? Have they heard 
us decry Mrs. Brown’s extravagance or ridicule the 
Briggs’ taste in house-furnishing? No adult is expected 
to be so saintly or so lacking in standards as to refrain 
from criticising others. But criticisms of persons 
should not be made in the presence of young children, 
and they should never be made in a flippant or sarcastic 
spirit. 
Children will hear a great deal of casual comment 
or table talk without giving any outward sign of having 
noticed. But when they throw back a phrase we had 
heedlessly dropped, we are greatly shocked at their 
saying such things! 
Arthur’s mother complained that it was impossible 
for her to keep a servant for any length of time, be- 
cause Arthur was so ugly and impudent in his manner 
toward the help. The listening friend sympathized 
with her, for she knew how difficult it was to adjust 
the harmonies of a complex household without the 
added burden of unfriendly children. But when she 
visited Arthur’s mother shortly afterward, she was en- 
tertained (in the presence of Arthur himself) with a 
long and vigorous tirade against servants in general 
and her own Mary in particular. She could not help 
but feel that here at least was one of the factors in the 
mother’s problem. It is hardly to be expected that a 
boy of ten will conduct himself courteously or even EXAMPLE AND PRECEPT 
99 
humanely towards people of whom his parents con- 
stantly speak contemptuously. 
In making the resolve to be suitable models for the 
conduct of our children, it is not necessary to go to 
the extreme of adopting only such speech and manner 
as is fit for children. Even young children can learn 
that there are some things which it is proper enough 
for their elders to do, but not permissible in them- 
selves. Thus, parents may stay up into the mysterious 
hours of the night, but children sometimes “ go to bed 
by day ”; some food is suitable for grown-up folks, but 
taboo for children, and so on. Nevertheless, the devel- 
opment of many good habits and the establishment of 
high ideals will depend directly upon the examples 
furnished by the parents. In this fact lies the greatest 
educational advantage to adults in having children 
about, for if they realize this it will hold them up to 
their own best standards. THE LAZY CHILD 
The controversy as to whether people must be driven 
b}7 fear of hunger or of punishment to do their work 
will probably continue for many years to come. But 
it should not be difficult for the parent who really 
cares, to make up his mind as to the best way of get- 
ting his own children to do their share of the world’s 
work. We have used the word “ lazy ” to cover up a 
heap of ignorance about human nature, and it is the 
easiest thing in the world to resort to this adjective— 
certainly much easier than trying to understand peo- 
ple, and especially children. 
Those who have given most attention to the problem 
of child nature are pretty well agreed that it is im- 
possible for a healthy boy or girl to be lazy. It is a 
contradiction of terms to say that a young human 
being would prefer to do nothing. Indeed, it is the 
irresistible impulse to be up and doing that makes the 
healthy child so much of a nuisance to people who wish 
to have everything quiet and “ orderly.” The first thing 
to do when a child shows symptoms of “ laziness,” is to 
have him thoroughly examined by a competent physician. 
Now this sounds as though we considered laziness a 
disease. And several years ago when Dr. Stiles 
of the U. S. Public Health Service announced his 
discoveries in regard to the hookworm, it was quite the 
fashion for respectable people (who have a great deal 
100 THE LAZY CHILD 
101 
of contempt for lazy folks) and for the newspapers to 
think up jokes about the “ laziness germ.” But seri- 
ously, laziness is very commonly an indication of im- 
paired health, if not of actual disease. This is espe- 
cially true when it occurs in young children. When a 
child sits or lies about without caring to do anything, 
without even getting into mischief, there is generally 
something wrong. 
But perhaps we all know older children who are 
“ pictures of health ” and at the same time lazy enough 
to exasperate their parents and teachers. When we 
have made sure that the picture of health is not a de- 
ceptive appearance, it is time to look for other causes, 
and not till then. Judging from the experience of the 
schools, there are lazy children who have good health. 
But the usual attitude toward indifference to work is 
hardly effective in making children get over it. To 
scold and to drive may help in getting a particular 
task finished, but they have not been very helpful in 
establishing habits of industry. And that is the whole 
problem, in most cases—to establish habits of industry. 
By nature the child adapts himself very readily to 
the establishment of such habits. In the first place 
there are the instincts for activity, the native curiosity 
and the imitativeness. And in the next place, there is 
the ease with which repeated acts become organized into 
habit. Could anything be easier than making a child 
get into the habit of doing something all of his waking 
time? But children do certainly grow up “lazy”; 
so what can be the trouble? We are quite sure that 
it cannot be anything wrong with his muscles, for ex- 102 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
ample, because the amount of energy that a child puts 
into his play after he is tired out by his “ work,” is 
enough to do the work several times over. That ought 
to give us a clew. The energy that is expended in play 
has meaning to the child; too often the energy required 
of him in work—whether it is home work or school 
work or work that earns money—has no meaning to 
him whatever. In other words, where there is interest 
and enthusiasm there is effort and exertion; when there 
is indifference or repugnance, there is lethargy and in- 
dolence. Children will acquire the habits of industry 
only where they have practice in exerting themselves 
with purpose and enthusiasm. 
But we cannot let the children play all the time; it 
is necessary to study, sometimes, and to do other things 
that are not very pleasant in themselves. Indeed that 
is true. But it has been found possible to organize 
study and other necessary work in such a way as to 
get the children to do it cheerfully and effectively, and 
so to get the habit of doing what needs to be done 
without shirking and without complaining. To most 
older people this would seem to be demoralizing; but 
experience shows that work done under conditions that 
arouse interest is at least as valuable for “ discipline ” 
as work done under compulsion. For children can cer- 
tainly learn the various processes involved in the 
handling of tools, for example, by making things in 
which they are interested; and they can as easily acquire 
skill in such work as in monotonous work. But the 
“ moral ” habit of application to the disagreeable for 
the purpose of carrying out a more remote end, which THE LAZY CHILD 
103 
is the essential thing in what we call our “ discipline,” 
has been successfully developed by parents and teachers 
who have known how to use interest in leading children 
from play to work. 
It is the children who have been driven to do the 
unpleasant things that have no meaning for them who 
resort to “ laziness ” as the only escape from the dis- 
agreeable tasks. They have never learned to be inter- 
ested either in the work itself, or in the work as a 
means to something desirable, that should crown all 
labor. They have acquired laziness because their im- 
pulses to activity had been thwarted by association with 
stupid, monotonous, fatiguing effort. 
And this suggests a third type of laziness. In spite 
of the beautiful poems and the stirring orations on the 
“ dignity of labor ” the children do not have to be 
very shrewd to discover that society honors many of 
its members in inverse proportion to the amount of 
useful work they do. It is a short step to acquire a 
contempt for real honest work, since the workers that 
the child sees about him receive anything but respect 
from “ the better classes.” If a clever girl or boy 
half-unconsciously makes up his mind that it does not 
pay to work, if he adopts the attitude expressed by the 
cant phrase “ Let George do it,” we must look seriously 
to the conditions that make for laziness in our own 
habits and views of life. 
Finally, there are a few children who naturally take 
to the contemplative life—they are dreamers, poets, 
philosophers. They have their uses even if they do not 
do “ useful work.” THE YOUNG MISER 
Whenever we are especially apprehensive lest a 
child develop a certain unlovely trait, we are told to 
stop it in infancy. But sometimes it seems necessary 
to develop the trait in infancy, to make sure that it 
does not crop out later in life. This is perhaps on the 
theory that every dog has his day, if not sooner, then 
later. For example, it would seem that about the only 
way to prevent a person from becoming an old miser 
is by giving him a chance to be a young miser. 
The collecting instinct appears in the child at about 
seven or eight years of age, and shows itself in number- 
less ways. The saving of buttons and pins may give 
way to the collecting of sea-shells or cigarette pictures. 
The little girl saves scraps of ribbon and lace quite 
as much because her instinct to collect is developing 
as because the ribbons and laces appeal to her sense of 
beauty. 
At first there is not much consciousness in the process. 
The little boy will gather in pebbles and bits of colored 
glass without much discrimination. It is just the 
primal instinct to appropriate whatever is not too 
securely fastened to be carried off. And the little 
boy’s pocket is notorious for the variety of its contents 
not merely because he has a great variety of interests 
and must be prepared for many different kinds of 
emergencies. In large part his pocket’s contents reflect THE YOUNG MISER 
105 
the scenes of his most recent experiences; the pocket 
contains samples of what has come within the boy’s 
reach. 
For a while this unconscious impulse to pocket what 
is touched and to touch what is seen may be a source 
of great annoyance to the other inhabitants of the 
house. It may help-you at times to locate the missing 
tape-measure or the key to the bathroom; but it is a 
nuisance nevertheless. However, there soon comes a 
time when this instinct to gather expands into a con- 
scious purpose to make a collection. If we have 
patiently and wisely allowed the child to pass through 
the shapeless appropriation of nothing in particular, 
we shall find it easier to make use of the later stage 
to good purpose. For with the desire to make collec- 
tions comes an opportunity to cultivate system and 
orderliness, that is hardly exceeded by anything found 
in the home or the school. 
To make a collection means to have a fairly definite 
idea of species and genera and orders. If it’s “ trans- 
fers ” that make up the collection, they can be sorted 
by colors and sizes and car-lines; they can be arranged 
in chronological order, or in alphabetical order; they 
can be bundled by tens and by hundreds or by dozens 
and gross. If we are collecting “ coupons ” that come 
with soap or with cereals, we have similar opportunities 
to sort and classify and arrange. Later, when we come 
to collect postage stamps, the opportunities for classi- 
cation are just as great, although they are apparently 
restricted by the traditional conventions of the game. 
And the parent will be interested to note that all of this 106 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
gathering and classifying implies a place for every- 
thing and everything in its place—a much more force- 
ful implication here than ever came from precept or 
example or moral stories about the child that missed 
the chance to go to a picnic because the cap could not 
be found. 
Gathering street-car transfers and coupons is an 
inexpensive pastime, and is generally not noticed by 
parents. When noticed it is likely to seem trivial and 
wasteful of precious time that might be put to better 
use, and is accordingly apt to receive discouragement. 
When it comes to cigarette pictures, parents will ques- 
tion the good taste of the pictures; when it comes to 
picture postals and postage stamps, they will balk at 
the expense. Nevertheless, we shall find it worth while 
to encourage, if only passively, this impulse to make 
a collection and to develop it intensively. Let the 
child gather according to his interests, according to 
the best taste of the surroundings, according to the 
material that is most promising. In the country there 
is the opportunity to collect leaves of all the kinds of 
trees or shrubs; or to collect flowers or flying seeds or 
insects. If we discourage the collection of birds’ nests 
or eggs, or of skins of animals, it is not because these 
things take up more space in the house, or cost more 
money to get and to preserve, but because they involve 
cruelty that the child can understand. At the sea- 
shore, one can gather sea-weeds and mount them neatly 
on white cardboard squares, or sea-shells or other queer 
flotsam cast up by the tides. 
In time one’s interest in collecting butterflies as THE YOUNG MISER 
107 
curios may disappear entirely, or give way to a scien- 
tific interest. In time one’s interest in picture postals 
may disappear entirely or give way to an interest in 
etchings or oil paintings. Whatever happens, however, 
may be considered in the nature of a safety-valve, if 
the collecting interest has really had its opportunity. 
For this is where the miser comes in. 
Sooner or later every young person, and especially 
every boy, will be confronted with the need to gather 
the symbols of material wealth—money will come to be 
considered not only very desirable, but even necessary. 
If the child begins to concentrate his collecting interests 
on money, he will have every opportunity to develop 
this interest as the main concern of his life. And that 
is what we mean by a miser, one whose interest is in 
the accumulation of money for its own sake, as we say, 
one who is concerned with having more, but not with 
using. This is the childish instinct to gather directed 
towards coins and bills—instead of buttons and trans- 
fers. 
The misery of the miser lies in the narrowness of his 
interests, not in the nature of the instinct which he 
indulges. To save children from becoming misers, we 
must broaden the interests through which these instincts 
may find their outlet. THE SENSIBILITY OF THE CHILD 
“ The heart knoweth its own bitterness,” but seems 
to be unaware that others have troubles of their own. 
This is especially true in our dealings with children. 
We take it for granted that what is childish is trivial, 
and what is trivial is not serious. But the troubles of a 
child are just as serious—to the child—as the worries 
of a statesman are—to the statesman. 
Our understanding of children, and our sympathy, 
show themselves in our attitude toward the trifles that 
make up the substance of a child’s emotional life. When 
Towser found Ida’s rag doll and shook it and tore it, 
Ida was nearly beside herself. Mother felt that the 
little girl needed consolation and earnestly tried to help 
the child. But she blundered miserably. She pointed 
out the beauty and the other merits of the large china 
doll, contrasting her virtues with the homeliness of the 
mutilated rag doll. She promised to buy Ida another 
doll, a prettier one, a larger one. But mother did not 
understand. It was the suffering of the rag doll that 
troubled Ida, not the loss of an indifferent plaything. 
This the mother did not understand. 
The death of a pet animal is a more intimate loss to 
the child than most adults can appreciate. In Carl 
Ewald’s charming little book, My Little Boy, the 
child sees in every group of factory chimneys that they 
pass on the train, the place where his friend Jean, the 
108 THE SENSIBILITY OF THE CHILD 
109 
dog, is buried. An elderly gentleman in the coach tries 
to explain that this is not the same factory; but the 
father understands better. It is the mystery of death 
and the loss of Jean that trouble the child, and he is 
continuously reminded of these things. The father 
wisely ignores the really trifling fact that one locality 
is confused with another, and sympathizes with his 
little boy in his deep grief. 
Sadie and her parents were to go to the sea-shore 
when school closed. But best of all, a favorite teacher 
was tc go by the same train. When the time of depar- 
ture arrived, mother calmly informed the child that they 
had changed their plans, and would go tomorrow. But 
is Miss Jones going tomorrow, too? No, she goes as 
originally planned, and will not be on our train. Sadie 
was dreadfully disappointed, and neither father nor 
mother could understand why a child that was usually 
so sensible should weep nearly half a day and far into 
the night for such slight cause. Besides, had she not 
been seeing Miss Jones every day for a whole year? 
We are too apt to assume that slight details in our 
arrangements mean no more to the children than they 
do to us. 
A little more thought given to the fact that events 
have meaning to children, would doubtless make us more 
careful in a hundred little things. We wound the sensi- 
bilities of the children more through our thoughtless- 
ness than through cruelty and indifference. 
Children are almost without exception sensitive to 
sarcasm—and that until they are well along in years. 
Whatever justification one’s ingenuity may find for 110 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
using sarcasm with adults, there is absolutely none for 
addressing it to children. A child seldom understands 
sarcasm on the intellectual side, and seldom fails to be 
hurt by it. 
Wise people know that in matters of taste there is 
no disputing. But how many parents are wise enough 
to refrain from making disparaging remarks about the 
friends of their children? A child’s friend is a matter 
of taste, a matter of admirations and aspirations. No 
doubt your taste is superior to your child’s; neither 
can there be any doubt that when your child reaches 
your present age his taste will be better than it is now. 
To cast any reflections upon the other child is to wound 
your own child’s pride and self-esteem in a way that is 
hardly ever warranted. Even if the choice of a play- 
mate is entirely bad—which would be a very rare case, 
indeed—your task is to develop your child’s standards, 
and not to tear away the friend upon whom the heart 
is for the time being set. 
To make disparaging comments upon people in gen- 
eral is likely to hurt the child’s sensibilities in a way 
that is quite unnecessary, and certainly undesirable. 
Unkind remarks about acquaintances, made in the pres- 
ence of children, will at first hurt them. In time, how- 
ever, this procedure will probably make the children 
cynical. If they lose their faith in human nature with 
the advancing years, if they lose their feeling of rever- 
ence, to what extent are these losses due to the stinging 
and cynical conversation that they hear at home? 
Another source of needless wounds to children is 
ridicule directed against their games or other activities. THE SENSIBILITY OF THE CHILD 
111 
How silly it would be for a business man or a society 
woman to sit on the floor and roll a ball against the 
wall and catch it on its return! But how sensible it is 
for a little girl or boy to do just that! The silly thing 
is for grown up people to gage the activities of children 
in terms of their own maturer judgment, wider experi- 
ence and trained, not to say sophisticated, tastes. The 
child’s game is the game for him, here and now. If 
you know a better game for him, teach it to him, play 
it with him; but do not kill the joy of all play by 
laughing at what, is after all a good enough activity— 
since the child finds in it satisfaction. 
No intelligent parent would willingly hurt a child by 
means of false accusations, or even by insinuations. 
Aside from the unnecessary suffering this may cause 
at the time, we must recognize how easy it is for the 
child to assume the attitude expressed by the saying, 
“ I’ve got the name, I may as well have the game.” 
Parents can afford to make great sacrifices for the 
sake of retaining the confidence and companionship of 
their children. One of the essential means to this end 
is the patient effort to understand the effect of seeming 
trifles upon the feelings of the child. We should seek 
to avoid unnecessary suffering that is just as real and 
just as acute, for all it is childish. We are certainly 
anxious to avoid the resentment and the estrangement 
that must follow repeated heartbreaks and misunder- 
standings. And we must consider, finally, how much 
of the callousness and indifference we find among men 
and women is the direct result of the constant bruising 
that their feelings suffered during childhood. COMBATING CRUELTY 
Harold caught a butterfly and ran with it joyously, 
to show his mother. It was very pretty, and everyone 
admired it. As the insect made struggles to escape, 
the child handled it rather gingerly. “ How tender 
he is,” mused the mother and went on with her sewing. 
Presently the butterfly stopped struggling; perhaps it 
was exhausted. In the course of the exhibition the 
scales were rubbed from its wings, and it was no longer 
so pretty to behold. As attention wandered from the 
butterfly and the child, the boy sought new diversions, 
and soon he was observed sitting in a corner of the 
porch, deliberately pulling off one wing after another, 
and proceeding to the legs. Mother was shocked, as 
any person of feeling would be. “ How cruel he is,” 
she thought, and scolded him roundly for being so un- 
kind to the pretty little butterfly. 
Whenever a child proceeds to dismember an insect 
or to throw a stone at a bird, he should be stopped. 
No child should be allowed to acquire the habit of 
inflicting pain on lower animals, or to cultivate delight 
in the sufferings of others. But neither should any 
parent condemn Harold for his cruelty just because he 
pulled a butterfly apart. You do not think your child 
is cruel because he is over-anxious to open every parcel 
that comes into the house, or because he once cut a doll 
open to see what the stuffing was made of. A child 
112 COMBATING CRUELTY 
113 
with a certain amount of initiative and curiosity will 
investigate the structure and insides of everything that 
he can possibly take apart. While he is still young 
and inexperienced, he makes no discrimination between 
dissecting a toy dog and a live insect. It is therefore 
not necessarily his cruelty that makes him do such 
shocking things, but a combination of his curiosity and 
his ignorance, and these are the factors we have to deal 
with. 
Now the curiosity is in no way objectionable. It is 
an instinct to be cultivated. The child will need to be 
trained to satisfy his curiosity in certain directions, 
and in effective ways. But his ignorance has to be 
overcome, and that is the end of much of the experience 
that we deliberately put in his way under the name of 
“ education.” There is a suspicion of cruelty only 
when the child is old enough to have a clear idea what 
suffering means, and to realize that other beings can 
suffer as he can, and from the same causes as those that 
make him suffer. 
Moreover, we must distinguish between the brutality 
that is a rather negative callousness or indifference to 
suffering, and the positive cruelty that derives satisfac- 
tion from the suffering of others. There are very few 
children who manifest cruelty in the latter sense. It 
would be obviously unwise to treat such acts of cruelty 
by means of whippings or other punishments that are 
in their way as cruel as what the child does. To give 
a child a pet dog or cat or bird, to let the child learn 
to love the pet, will do more to cultivate his sympathy 
than a whole year of daily sermons on being kind. 114 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
There is so much evidence of unkindness and cruelty 
all about us that we should really not be astonished 
when the child manifests the same kinds of hardness. 
Everywhere he may witness whippings—whipping of 
children and of horses and of dogs. He is hardly to 
be blamed if he becomes indifferent to the sight of such 
acts, and grows up to take part in them himself, as the 
aggressor. Indeed, the prevailing cruelty among adults 
is a sort of self-perpetuating affair; adults are cruel 
because they became so as children, and the children 
acquire the habit because they see so much of it in the 
adults. 
We are parts of a vicious circle from which escape 
is very difficult, and for many impossible. Children see 
chickens killed, they hear of war, perhaps take part in 
hunting expeditions, and are constantly admonished to 
“ swat the fly.” Now no sensible person would for a 
moment try to cultivate the sentiments of the children 
on behalf of the poor little fly. The thoughtless senti- 
mentalism behind the adage “ Live and let live ” is as 
pernicious as the doctrine “ Each for himself.” But it 
is fair to question whether young children should be 
engaged in any kind of killing campaign. We may 
teach the children to hate the fly and the mosquito, 
without reserve; but it would be wiser to teach them 
how to prevent the birth of the flies and the mosquitoes 
than to let the animals come to maturity and then give 
our children practice in killing without compunction. 
Older children should learn that it is sometimes neces- 
sary to inflict pain, or even to kill. They should, how- 
ever, come to have the same abhorrence of wanton in- COMBATING CRUELTY 
115 
jury to other human beings or to lower animals, as they 
have of the most noxious animals that call for slaughter. 
In large part the attitude of children towards pain 
and suffering is a reflection of the attitude that prevails 
about them. In some homes the mention of hunting 
calls up thoughts of the chase, the excitement of stalk- 
ing, the steady aim, the effective shot. In others it 
calls up the harrying of the beasts, their struggles, and 
their sufferings when wounded. In some homes, the 
army and navy are discussed in terms of the handsome 
appearance on parade, the excellent discipline, the ad- 
ventures in traveling, and so on. In other homes war 
always means hell. It means fathers and sons and 
brothers going away from their dear ones to be shot 
and sometimes killed. It means suffering from wounds 
and thirst and separation—not brass buttons and brass 
bands. To some, the trophies of war are stripes and 
medals; to others, empty sleeves or widows’ weeds. 
In combating cruelty, as in combating lying, the 
atmosphere of the environment is more important than 
the wisdom of the precepts. Children learn to be kind 
by doing kind things; they learn to be cruel by doing 
the brutal things, thinking the indifferent thoughts. BEING OBSTINATE 
When Tommy was three and a half years old, his 
mother engaged a nurse who did not at once win the 
affection of the children. Mother hoped that the 
children would learn to like her, and let her stay. One 
day Tommy asked for a drink of water, and the girl 
fetched it; but Tommy refused to say “ Thank you ” 
to her. Mother was in the room at the time, and 
coaxed Tommy to say “ Thank you.” Tommy replied, 
“ I’ll say it to you, but I shan’t say it to her.” 
The mother insisted, hut Tommy persisted in his 
obstinate refusal to acknowledge his gratitude to the 
young woman who had brought him the water. The 
mother thought it her duty to force from the child a 
formal compliance with the demands of decency, and 
she spent an hour in the struggle with the child. But 
Tommy did not change his position. Then the mother 
left him alone in a room, calling him from time to time 
to say the magic words and be restored to grace. But 
Tommy was obstinate, and at last fell asleep from 
exhaustion. 
After he woke up, they found him playing with his 
toys, cheerfully enough. A repetition of the command 
would no doubt have thrown him into the mental state 
that held him during the conflict of the two wills. The 
mother had the good sense, however, not to raise the 
issue again, for while the child was asleep she had the 
116 BEING OBSTINATE 
117 
time to collect her senses and to view the situation more 
calmly and more rationally. 
In every home there are opportunities for such con- 
flicts of wills between parents and children, in which 
the issue culminates either in a disastrous defeat for 
the authority of the elders, or in an equally disastrous, 
because brutal and unreasoning victory of the adult 
strength. But all students of child nature are agreed 
that the occasion for such clashes should be studiously 
avoided—by the parents, of course, since the children 
do not know what is happening and the parents should 
know, 
In nearly every case of the kind mentioned, the per- 
sistence of the child in his refusal to do what is asked 
of him is due not to the moral perversity or to the 
motive that we call obstinacy, but to a certain mental 
difficulty, a certain obstacle in the child’s mind which 
he cannot himself overcome. In the case of Tommy it 
was unwise for the mother to struggle for an hour, be- 
cause the child was obviously not in need of elementary 
lessons in politeness. He knew enough to say “ Thank 
you ” on all suitable occasions; he had in fact already 
acquired the habit of doing so. His failure to say the 
desired words in the instance cited was due entirely to 
a combination of feelings aroused by the personality of 
the nurse. The struggle was really not to make the 
child polite, or even to make him obedient; it was essen- 
tially an attempt to make him love someone who was 
from the first repugnant to him. And we know very 
well that love will not be compelled. 
The father of Lyman Abbott recognized that such 118 
RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
obstinacy cannot be altogether a matter of deliberate 
contrariness, and he compared these fits with what is 
sometimes observed in lower animals, as the horse. In 
the case of the horse, he says, “ We cannot suppose that 
peculiar combination of intelligence and ill-temper 
which we generally consider the sustaining power of the 
protracted obstinacy on the part of a child. The degree 
of persistence which is manifested by children in con- 
tests of this kind is something wonderful, and cannot 
easily be explained by any of the ordinary theories in 
respect to the influence of motives on the human mind. 
A state of cerebral excitement and exaltation is not 
infrequently produced which seems akin to insanity, 
and instances have been known in which a child has 
suffered itself to be beaten to death rather than yield 
obedience in a very simple command.” 
Very often a child’s failure to do what he is told is 
due to the paralysis of fear. A girl or boy suddenly 
interrupted in the flow of thought, or in the imagina- 
tive wanderings of play, simply cannot grasp what is 
wanted of him, and repetitions of the order accompanied 
as these usually are with loud tones and other manifes- 
tations of anger, only make matters worse. Parents 
frequently have difficulties that lead to “ obstinacy ” 
in connection with making children put away their toys 
after playing. Now some children will put so much 
energy and interest into their play, that they become 
quite exhausted before they stop. In this fatigued 
condition it is not reasonable to ask too much of them. 
In such cases the parent must anticipate the fatigue 
point, by suggesting at the beginning of the play, or BEING OBSTINATE 
119 
during the course of it, that the blocks will have to be 
put away later. It is well, for example, to warn the 
child that the play must stop in five or ten minutes, 
and that the toys must then be replaced before supper, 
or before going out; and the time should be gaged ac- 
cording to what experience has shown to be the child’s 
limit of endurance. 
In other matters, also, the idea of anticipating a 
crisis will be found very helpful. We must learn to 
know each child well enough to recognize his dangerous 
spot, whether it be fatigue, or personal likings (or an- 
tipathies), or absent-mindedness, or fear, or whatever 
it may be. In all cases, a conflict of wills is sure to 
arouse a great deal of feeling, and then it is essential 
that the parent keep perfectly cool, for nothing is ever 
gained by having more than one person angry at any 
one time. If we remember that most of the child’s 
actions or refusals are quite without motive, or at least 
without conscious motive, and if we keep calm, we shall 
be less likely to meet obstinacy. THE STUBBORN SCATTERBRAIN 
In certain emergencies, swift, blind obedience is 
absolutely necessary. But there is never any justifica- 
tion for swift, blind commands. It is the sudden, ill- 
considered command that is frequently the cause of dis- 
obedience and stubbornness on the one hand, and an ob- 
stacle to the development of concentration on the other. 
The mother of a little scatterbrain listened with 
resignation to the complaints of the child’s teacher that 
she could not make him “ concentrate.” The mother 
knew too well that he would not concentrate. Get him 
started at any task, and before it is half done he is 
off wool-gathering or begging to be let off. It was 
therefore with some astonishment that Tommy’s mother 
observed the boy working a whole Saturday on a set 
of paper furniture for a doll’s house he had started to 
make for his little sister. So great was his concentration 
that it was difficult to get him away to his lunch—and 
impossible to make him go out to play in the park. 
How is it that the same child is one day so stubborn 
that you cannot make him do what you want him to, 
and on others so shifting that he is acquiring a reputa- 
tion for lack of concentration? 
The stubbornness of the child means his sticking fast 
to that upon which he has set his mind or his heart— 
concentration upon his own personal purpose—which 
is often not apparent to those who would divert him 
120 THE STUBBORN SCATTERBRAIN 
121 
to a new line of action. His stubbornness lies in the 
fact that what is demanded of him is foreign to his im- 
mediate aims. We do not sufficiently realize how our 
simple requirements may be rude interruptions of his 
own work or of his line of thought, and how a sequence 
of such interruptions will result in making the child 
resent all kinds of requests—thus developing an antag- 
onistic attitude of “ stubbornness ”—or making him 
feel that there is no use starting anything—thus devel- 
oping an attitude of dallying and indifference. 
To be sure, children have to be called. They never 
know when it’s time to eat or to go to sleep; and they 
are often needed to help with errands and other tasks. 
But when Ethel is busy with her dolls, it is certainly 
not fair to her at the moment to ask her to stop in- 
stantly, and come to bed. For the sake of her feelings, 
it would be well to suggest to her that it is time to get 
the dolls ready for bed, before her own bedtime comes. 
When Stephen is busy whittling a boat, which is a long 
way from completion, you might set an arbitrary limit 
for the day’s work, so that when it is time for supper, 
the break will not be too violent. The child hates an 
interruption in the middle of a thought just as much 
as you hate an interruption while writing a difficult 
letter. 
But more important than the effect on the momentary 
feelings, is the effect of such interruptions on the child’s 
later habits of work and play. Jane Addams tells us 
that she believes that city children have lost so largely 
the art of playing, because of the constant interrup- 
tions to their street games by the traffic; the children RESPONDING TO THE ENVIRONMENT 
get to feel that it is not worth while to start anything 
serious. Miss Addams describes the games she used to 
play as a little girl, lasting for hours, being continued 
sometimes day after day; and she contrasts with 
her home the conditions that make such games impos- 
sible in the cities today. Is it any wonder that so 
many children “ hang around ” without knowing what 
to do with themselves? 
The regular interruptions in the child’s activities 
that are necessitated by meals and bedtime can certainly 
be anticipated, so that there need ordinarily be no 
excuse for a swift call that leaves no time for putting 
away toys or other materials before getting ready 
for the new duty. It is not the child’s fault if he has 
been allowed to play without warning so that you must 
have him come this instant, instead of a few minutes 
later. 
Interruptions that are due to the necessity for doing 
various tasks about the house seem to fall into a dif- 
ferent class. Yet most errands can be arranged for in 
advance. It should not be too difficult in most homes 
to arrange for certain hours when the child’s share of 
the day’s work is to be done. It is only where the 
child feels that he has a considerable stretch of time 
to himself that he will be inclined to plan an undertaking 
that is worth while; and it is only when the child has 
an opportunity to carry out his undertakings that he 
will develop the habit of sticking to a task until it is 
finished. Moreover, a regular daily programme has a 
beneficial influence on the physical and mental health 
of the child. THE STUBBORN SCATTERBRAIN 
123 
Still, emergencies do arise when the work of the mo- 
ment must be interrupted and replaced by a task of 
a different kind. In such cases, the command may be 
swift, but it need not be blind. We all approach a 
busy person with a necessary interruption in something 
of an apologetic mood—unless the person happens to be 
a child (or perhaps a servant). If we did all of our 
interrupting in the same mood, we should probably get 
more cordial responses; and when children understand 
our attitude, we shall no doubt get swifter responses. 
It is very likely that children differ considerably in 
their native ability to concentrate on their work and 
play. But we must make sure that the lack of concen- 
tration is not due to the fact that the child is inter- 
rupted too frequently or too inconsiderately. We must 
also be sure that the lack of concentration does not 
come from the lack of sufficiently interesting occupa- 
tions. THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY TO FIGHT OR NOT TO FIGHT 
The principal of a large city school tells me that he 
finds among the parents of his pupils just two attitudes 
towards children’s fighting. Either they encourage the 
fighting instinct without regard to circumstances, or 
they lay down the rule that the boys must never fight. 
One attitude is just as arbitrary as the other, and 
neither fits all cases. Some boys need to be encouraged 
to stand up to show the stuff they are made of; and 
others need just as much to be discouraged in their 
belligerent activities. Each individual has to be judged 
by himself. And each boy has to learn to judge each 
fighting opportunity by itself. 
Little Harold came home crying bitterly and rather 
disheveled. There was every evidence of his having 
gone through a deranging as well as a distressing ex- 
perience. 
“What’s the matter, Harold?” his mother asked. 
“ A boy hit me,” he sobbed out. 
“ What did you do ? ” asked the father. 
“ I didn’t do anything,” was Harold’s answer. 
“ Well, next time you hit him first,” counseled the 
father and the incident was considered closed, for there 
was no serious damage as a result of the beating. 
A few days later Harold came home triumphant. 
He had hit the other boy on sight, and accounts were 
squared. 128 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
Many parents will be shocked by the advice given 
by Harold’s father. That sort of thing leads to quar- 
reling and contentiousness among children; and it de- 
velops into bickering and rowdyism when the boys grow 
up. But however much men may desire an era of peace, 
we must recognize that boys’ fights cannot be dismissed 
with a formula. 
The trouble is really with our own point of view. 
Most of us assume that we are obliged to choose between 
having children become bullies or aggressive trouble- 
makers, and having them become molly-coddles. 
If a boy is taught that it is wicked to fight, and if 
he is inclined to comply with the wishes of his parents 
or teachers, he may go so far as to stand still while 
he is being battered up by one of the “ tougher ” boys 
in the neighborhood. No self-respecting boy likes to 
do that; yet many are forced to do just that by the 
pressure of the home. 
On the other hand, the normal boy does not need to 
be encouraged to fight. He will find plenty of occasions 
and plenty of temptations to engage in physical com- 
bat. What he needs is to be taught what is worth 
fighting for and what isn’t. 
Fighting has its value as an exercise, for developing 
control of the muscles, especially during moments of 
excitement. But this is not worth having at the risk of 
becoming a bully. Every boy should take pride in the 
ability to defend himself against attack; and with many 
boys this ability no doubt needs to be cultivated by 
means of lessons in wrestling, boxing, etc. But that 
is very different from cultivating pride in the ability TO FIGHT OR NOT TO FIGHT 
129 
to “ lick ” other boys for no particular reason. It is 
the latter sort of thing that is in danger of degenerating 
into a cowardly, swaggering, overbearing attitude 
towards the weaker ones. In learning to defend him- 
self, a boy should also learn that physical force is not 
a just basis for making his way in the world. 
Two boys were playing at the home of one of them 
when the latter was sent on an errand, and his friend 
went with him. On the street they met a “ gang ” of 
boys spoiling for a fight. One of the two had been 
taught to fight whenever he was attacked, and no ques- 
tions asked. The other had been taught to defend him- 
self, but to avoid unnecessary fighting. The latter 
sized up the situation at a glance. It was impossible 
for the two boys to stand up against the gang, and he 
had no pride that required him to undertake an im- 
possible task. He was prepared to fight one at a time; 
but he had that better part of valor which suggested 
a discreet retreat, with an appeal to the police or some 
adult. We should guard against cultivating that false 
sense of “ honor ” which will lead a boy to do foolhardy 
things in upholding a perverted ideal. There is no honor 
or glory in getting smashed by little brutes whose in- 
stincts have not been properly trained. 
In contrast with the boy who knows when to fight 
and when not to, is the case of one who would not fight 
under any circumstances. This boy was the delight of 
a dozen tormentors who would chase him after school 
until he took refuge in some store, from which he would 
telephone home to his mother to come and fetch him! 
The moral effect of one’s attitude towards fighting 128 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
Many parents will be shocked by the advice given 
by Harold’s father. That sort of thing leads to quar- 
reling and contentiousness among children; and it de- 
velops into bickering and rowdyism when the boys grow 
up. But however much men may desire an era of peace, 
we must recognize that boys’ fights cannot be dismissed 
with a formula. 
The trouble is really with our own point of view. 
Most of us assume that we are obliged to choose between 
having children become bullies or aggressive trouble- 
makers, and having them become molly-coddles. 
If a boy is taught that it is wicked to fight, and if 
he is inclined to comply with the wishes of his parents 
or teachers, he may go so far as to stand still while 
he is being battered up by one of the “ tougher ” boys 
in the neighborhood. No self-respecting boy likes to 
do that; yet many are forced to do just that by the 
pressure of the home. 
On the other hand, the normal boy does not need to 
be encouraged to fight. He will find plenty of occasions 
and plenty of temptations to engage in physical com- 
bat. What he needs is to be taught what is worth 
fighting for and what isn’t. 
Fighting has its value as an exercise, for developing 
control of the muscles, especially during moments of 
excitement. But this is not worth having at the risk of 
becoming a bully. Every boy should take pride in the 
ability to defend himself against attack; and with many 
boys this ability no doubt needs to be cultivated by 
means of lessons in wrestling, boxing, etc. But that 
is very different from cultivating pride in the ability TO FIGHT OR NOT TO FIGHT 
129 
to “ lick ” other boys for no particular reason. It is 
the latter sort of thing that is in clanger of degenerating 
into a cowardly, swaggering, overbearing attitude 
towards the weaker ones. In learning to defend him- 
self, a boy should also learn that physical force is not 
a just basis for making his way in the world. 
Two boys wrere playing at the home of one of them 
when the latter was sent on an errand, and his friend 
went with him. On the street they met a “ gang ” of 
boys spoiling for a fight. One of the two had been 
taught to fight whenever he was attacked, and no ques- 
tions asked. The other had been taught to defend him- 
self, but to avoid unnecessary fighting. The latter 
sized up the situation at a glance. It was impossible 
for the two boys to stand up against the gang, and he 
had no pride that required him to undertake an im- 
possible task. He was prepared to fight one at a time; 
but he had that better part of valor which suggested 
a discreet retreat, with an appeal to the police or some 
adult. We should guard against cultivating that false 
sense of “ honor ” which will lead a boy to do foolhardy 
things in upholding a perverted ideal. There is no honor 
or glory in getting smashed by little brutes whose in- 
stincts have not been properly trained. 
In contrast with the boy who knows when to fight 
and when not to, is the case of one who would not fight 
under any circumstances. This boy was the delight of 
a dozen tormentors who would chase him after school 
until he took refuge in some store, from which he would 
telephone home to his mother to come and fetch him! 
The moral effect of one’s attitude towards fighting 130 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
is even more important than the physical effect. While 
aggressive combativeness is to be discouraged, we should 
try to retain enough of the fighting instinct in each 
child to make sure that the young people do not grow 
up with a soft indifference to injustice. The late 
William T. Stead used to say that he was so anxious to 
have peace that he was willing to fight for it. That is 
a distinctly sane attitude for young people to acquire. CULTIVATING INDIRECTION 
Helen and Martin had to be reproved several times 
in the course of the meal. This was very mortifying, 
since there was company at the table. Martin was 
teasing Helen in a very exasperating undertone. 
Mother suggested to Helen that she better treat her 
brother “ with silent contempt.” This advice seemed 
to be effective, and things were quiet for a while. Pres- 
ently, however, Martin chirped up, “ Mother, she is 
treating me with silent contempt over the table, but 
she is kicking me under the table.” 
For some reason that has not yet been made per- 
fectly clear, the conduct of Helen, above and below the 
table, seems to be characteristic of girls of nearly all 
ages. This does not mean that boys would never resort 
to such tactics, nor that all girls do. But in general 
girls do that sort of thing more than boys. 
When boys have a difference they seem to be unhappy 
until the matter is settled definitely one way or the 
other. In their youth they will take to fists, as the 
simplest and most direct method for settling differ- 
ences. Gradually, when they have the opportunity, 
they learn to use other methods. The normal evolution 
of a boy is from the savage who fights with his fists— 
yes, and feet and teeth, too—to the statesman who 
fights with diplomacy. 
With a girl it is different. It is very seldom that 
131 132 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
a girl is allowed to give expression to her impulses in 
the fighting line—that is, where parents and teachers 
and governesses arc always on the lookout to preserve 
the proprieties. We think it is unladylike for a little 
girl to fight, if not positively wicked; so we do not let 
her discharge her emotions through those particular 
channels. And what is the result? Does this enforced 
restraint of impulse bring about a calmer judgment, 
a more detached and disinterested view of life, a deeper 
sympathy for the affairs of others? 
Those who have made a special study of the charac- 
teristics of boys and girls have observed that in general 
girls are more submissive than boys; the latter are 
inclined to be more masterful. Here is no doubt a 
real difference. But girls are much more submissive 
than they need to be. In addition to the native tend- 
ency to yield, there has been imposed upon the growing 
girl the conventional requirement that she yield on all 
occasions, proper and improper. As a result, probably, 
of the many restraints that the girl feels about her, 
she almost instinctively resorts to indirect methods for 
obtaining her ends. 
When two little girls in the park the other day were 
forcibly separated by their attendants and taken to 
opposite sides of a drive, they did not forget their 
grievances or differences instantly, nor did they cast 
off the desire to inflict injury upon each other. But 
as they were out of reach of each other’s arms, they 
began to contort their faces and tongues, and to de- 
liver certain cabalistic signs to each other that appar- 
ently had the effect of making each one feel that she CULTIVATING INDIRECTION 
133 
was being avenged in some mysterious way. Now it 
is a fair question to ask whether—leaving aside the 
matter of torn clothes or soiled hands—it would not 
be better for these little girls to have it out with their 
fists and be done with it, than to be separated with 
rankling bosoms, to be obliged to resort to such slow 
and ineffective methods of relieving their feelings as 
the weak muscles of the face and tongue could supply. 
And the worst of it is that the feelings are never 
satisfied and the children carry about with them the 
rags and tatters of unsettled quarrels and disputes, 
without even being aware of what makes them feel like 
cats. 
What has been said about fighting in regard to boys 
is in a large measure equally true of girls. To prohibit 
fighting altogether is not only a violation of the child’s 
nature, but it exposes him—or her—to the abuses of 
companions. It is the children who do not fight that 
enable others to become bullies. On the other hand, 
it is only by fighting and feeling defeat that the child 
comes to realize the responsibility of power. And the 
girl needs the lessons to be learned from these experi- 
ences no less than the boy. 
There is the further likelihood that if girls were 
permitted greater freedom of physical action in giving 
expression to their displeasure, they would be more 
frank in dealing with each other, and they would 
more quickly eliminate backbiting and hair-pulling 
from their offensive armaments. 
But you must not consider this a plea for the encour- 
agement of militancy among girls. No child needs to 134 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
be encouraged to fight. The most that any of them 
needs is an opportunity. The point is that while boys 
are for the most part permitted to make use of what 
opportunities come their way, the girls are almost 
universally suppressed to the point of appearing in- 
different “ over the table ”—but nature will have her 
way, and so they adopt sly, underhand methods “ under 
the table.” 
It is fair to suppose, from what we know of the way 
the child’s mind develops, that only by indulging in 
her native impulses to fight as her brother fights, will 
the girl truly learn that the fist is not the best instru- 
ment for settling differences. As it is she learns that 
the fist is not the accepted weapon, but she does not 
learn a good, direct way of doing the work. If girls 
are to learn to do their share of work in cooperation 
with their fellows, and if they are to learn to play 
fair in the serious battles of life, they must have a 
chance to fight frankly and heartily and aboveboard. PLAYING SOLDIER 
In times of peace, many of us can visualize the hor- 
rors of war clearly enough to make us oppose every- 
thing that encourages militarism. But with half of 
the civilized world bleeding, the horrore are before the 
minds of all of us constantly, and we are moved to do 
something more effective than shut our eyes. We 
realize the importance of inculcating in the young a 
type of patriotism that is free from aggressiveness or 
jingoism. Confident of our patriotism we turn our 
attention to a crusade against “ military ” toys and 
the playing of soldiers by the children. 
There is of course no use in over-stimulating children 
in these plays. Nothing is to be gained by urging a 
more lively interest in details of military campaigns, 
or in making the children more familiar with the in- 
struments of destruction. But neither is it wise to 
forbid boys playing soldier. 
When boys play soldier it is in response to two facts 
which cannot be entirely removed. The child, at a 
certain age, will not only imitate what he sees going 
on around him, but he will dramatize all the activities 
of which he learns. This instinct is there, if the child 
is normal. Any outside regulation, to be effective, 
must consist, not of rules regarding what may or what 
may not be played, but of a selection of all the ideas 
that are to enter the child’s mind. This is obviously 
135 136 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
an impossible task. With all his devices and resources, 
the father of the Buddha failed in his efforts to keep 
from the child all knowledge of suffering and death as 
he had planned to do. Nor can we hope to keep our 
children long in ignorance of suffering and death, of 
war and murder, of robbery and other crimes. And 
whatever they learn they will incorporate into their 
plays just as certainly as they have any opportunity 
to play at all. 
Forbidding certain types of play will not modify 
the natural impulses to imitate and to dramatize. 
Neither will it destroy the child’s natural interest in 
the unusual and in the “ dramatic.” On the contrary, 
forbidding is one of the surest ways of arousing inter- 
est, one of the surest ways of tempting to action. 
But even if we could prevent the children’s partici- 
pation in these mimic paradings and warrings, it is 
very doubtful whether it would be worth while to do so. 
The injury that may come from playing soldier has 
been strikingly similar to the rumors of Mark Twain’s 
death—grossly exaggerated. The fact is that children 
do all of their playing, at least during the years before 
adolescence, entirely without prejudice. They are al- 
ternately Indians and Puritans; they impersonate the 
parish priest or Captain Hook with equal sincerity and 
abandon. When they enact a stage robbery there is no 
moral implication in the assignment of roles, and as 
they view the drama of life from the unsophisticated 
level of three to four feet, every character has his 
proper place and is worthy of a fair presentation. 
The perfect naivete of the child in adopting the PLAYING SOLDIER 
137 
character which he is for the time being impersonating 
is shown by the answer that little Tommy gave when 
his prim Aunt Sabrina discovered him dancing about 
in the nursery without a scrap of clothing on. “ What- 
ever are you doing in this state, child ? ” asked the aunt 
in a tone that was meant to express reproach as well 
as disapproval. “Don’t you see?” returned Tommy, 
pointing to his ankles, which were ornamented with bits 
of colored worsted; “ I am one of the Early Sea Peo- 
ple.” Tommy had not invented the character; he had 
merely adopted him from the book they had been read- 
ing in school. 
The question of the moral effect of impersonating 
the soldier is very much like the older question of what 
happens to the actor who takes the part of the villain 
in the play. Should the children’s play be quite without 
its villains or bad fairies? Then it is incomplete and 
not sufficiently true to life to be interesting, to be satis- 
fying. On the other hand, if the evil spirit is to ap- 
pear, will it harm your child or mine to play his role? 
Experience shows that children may play robber and 
pirate with great gusto and yet grow up to be upright 
and honored citizens—and even judges! In the same 
way it is quite possible for children to play soldier and 
then become advocates of “ peace at any price.” The 
literary editor of a well known woman’s magazine, the 
editor of an educational magazine, and a prominent 
minister all told me that they had had ambitions toward 
a military career—not during childhood, but during 
late adolescence. The editors both made strenuous but 
futile efforts to get into the West Point Military Acad- 138 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
emy; and the minister actually joined the army. All 
three are now earnestly combating militarism. And 
thousands of similar cases can no doubt be found in all 
parts of our population. 
When there is so much constructive work that may 
be done in the development of children’s characters, the 
worry about playing soldiers seems a pitiful waste of 
energy. It is a pity to snatch from Bobby his tin sol- 
diers, or to look daggers at him when he admires 
a toy gun; let the child have his play and he will be a 
better man for it. What is needed is not the hiding of 
drums and muskets, but the positive cultivation of ideals 
of peace and humanity. Moreover, at each stage of in- 
terest the play of the child affords an opportunity to 
formulate standards and ideals of conduct that should 
be seized and utilized. It is when he is playing soldier 
that the child can learn the meaning of loyalty and 
devotion and self-sacrifice and fortitude; and these may 
remain when the drum and tinsel are discarded for 
another character. CHILDREN AND THE WAR 
It is curious that so many people who take it as a 
matter of course that children’s questions about nature 
and machines should be fully answered, nevertheless 
hesitate when it comes to children’s questions about war, 
and particularly about the present European war. It 
is as though we elders felt somewhat ashamed before 
our children that such a stupendous unreason could be 
carried on by grown-ups, and like the ostrich of the 
fable we pretend that there is no such thing, although 
we cannot hide the fact from the alert youngsters. 
It is futile to ask whether children should be told 
about the war. Unless they are kept in solitary con- 
finement, they are constantly getting information and 
misinformation in large instalments. The important 
question to ask is, What shall they be told?—or, How 
shall they be told? 
We must make up our minds how we wish to have 
our children look upon war in general, and upon the 
facts of this particular war. We must decide whether 
they are to cultivate, through what they now learn, a 
spirit of militarism, or a narrow partisanship for this 
or that party to the conflict. Is information about 
war and fighting to develop an admiration for the sol- 
dier as the highest type of hero, or is it to establish the 
conviction that war is the normal and rational method 
for settling differences among nations? 
139 140 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
It is because we fear the narrowing effects of par- 
tisanship, and the possibly brutalizing effects of mili- 
tancy that most of us hesitate to encourage our 
children’s interest in the war. But if our reasons are 
of this kind, we should go a step farther. We should 
recognize that a partisan is not a suitable person to 
give children information about the great struggle. 
Nor is such a person the one to explain to a child the 
causes of the war. Yet a parent may well take occa- 
sion to explain that because of birth, or early associa- 
tions, or business interests, or family connections, he is 
very decidedly prejudiced one way or the other, and 
that he must therefore refrain from attempting to bias 
the judgment of others—especially of his children. 
To state frankly that you are prejudiced is no easy 
matter. But there is no better opportunity to teach 
the child the importance of suspending judgment and 
there is no better illustration1 of the fact that our judg- 
ments are not only colored, but badly warped by our 
feelings. 
It is the parent who hesitates because he does not 
wish to warp the child’s mind, who should now find the 
best opportunity to review his history and acquire a 
perspective through which to study the events of the 
day. When a child is old enough to ask a question, 
he should have the best answer available, up to the 
limit of his understanding and interest. If he is old 
enough to be shocked by the reports of “ atrocities ” 
he is old enough to be taught that the whole miserable 
business is but a tangle of atrocities, and from the 
nature of things can never be anything else. CHILDREN AND THE WAR 
141 
The child with ideals easily has his sensibilities out- 
raged by the accounts of a treaty violated, or of a 
neutral nation ruthlessly crushed to clear the way for 
a more powerful people. And we do well in trying to 
preserve these sensibilities against the hardening in- 
fluences of the bloody story. But we must go farther. 
It is not enough to arouse the child’s resentment against 
those who commit the wicked deeds. One does not need 
to go very far back in the history of our own times to 
discover that none of the nations now at war is entirely 
with clean hands. Nor is it enough to arouse resent- 
ment against the outrageous deeds. If feelings are to 
be aroused, they are to be directed against the whole 
scheme of life and thought that makes war a possibility. 
It is not those parents who see in the military virtues 
the basis of the moral life, who hesitate about discuss- 
ing the war with their children. On the contrary, these 
take advantage of every detail to impress upon their 
children the glories of sacrifice and hardship, or the 
nobility of this particular kind of public service. Those 
who hesitate are the very ones who fear that too much 
preoccupation with the war and its events will bias the 
mind of the child toward interest in martial affairs. 
Thus they lose a great opportunity to instil in them 
early a determination to use their powers to combat 
war. They lose the opportunity to impress the children 
with the tremendous destructiveness of war and with 
the importance of holding it in reserve for the most 
serious tasks of humanity. They lose the opportunity 
to counteract the military spirit that is only too ready 
to break loose on the slightest pretext. THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
Now that the interests of so many millions of people 
are centered about the war, we shall find it easier for 
children to learn important historical and geographical 
facts than ever they could under the ordinary condi- 
tions supplied by the school or the home. In a few 
short years our children will be getting this informa- 
tion as school “ lessons ” with the usual travail and 
hardship. They will then have a real grievance that 
we did not let them learn what is important in the 
whole matter while the interest was most alert to assimi- 
late all that came to the mind. 
Children can profit from table-talk about the war in 
the same way as they can profit from home discussions 
about political or religious subjects. They uncon- 
sciously absorb a great deal of information, and learn 
a great deal about forming judgments. But if the dis- 
cussion of the war consists of an exchange of vitupera- 
tion, it is of course worth no more than a similar dis- 
cussion of “ politics ” or religion. In fact, we must 
discuss with our children every topic of interest to them 
and of importance in life, to the best of our ability 
and to the best of their understanding—and then hope 
that they will better the instruction. SUBSTITUTES FOR FIGHTING 
There are three possible attitudes toward the in- 
stincts of children. At one extreme we find the rather 
crude naturalism which assumes that whatever is 
“ natural ” must be right; this leads to indifference and 
indulgence. At the other extreme is the somewhat 
less crude but equally arbitrary puritanism which sus- 
pects every desire and impulse of being satanic in 
origin; this leads to suppression and sterility. Then 
there is a more or less rational eclecticism that chooses 
to encourage some impulses and to suppress others. 
When we take into account the teachings of modern 
psychology and biology, we shall make our selections 
and adapt our methods more effectively. Today we 
do not simply repress or indulge; we try to utilize the 
driving forces of the growing child to forward our 
own ideals of what a child should be. We take the 
child as we find him, and try to make him a little 
stronger here, and to rub off a little there. 
In the matter of fighting, it is particularly difficult 
to form balanced judgments and to develop sane plans. 
With our usual habit of emphasizing one aspect of a 
problem to the exclusion of all others, we either fix 
our attention on the injuries resulting from 
conflict, and become extreme pacifists, or we fix 
the attention upon the need for resisting aggression, 
143 144 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
for defending our “ rights ”, and become belligerent. 
In one case we make fighting an end in itself, in the 
other case we make the avoidance of fighting the goal 
of effort. With the child, however, fighting means 
more than defense, and it need not always mean that; 
it means something different from the consequences to 
person and property. It is almost entirely a matter 
of exertion, or overcoming difficulties, of conquest—or 
defeat—sometimes, but even then chiefly as incidental 
to the conflict. 
Our problem is therefore to make full use of youth’s 
eagerness to exert effort, to sacrifice, to devote itself. 
But we must guard, on the one hand, against drawing 
upon the anti-social and inhuman motives; and on the 
other hand, against allowing the exertions to result in 
injuries, whether personal or economical. 
In childhood, playing soldier means, usually, merely 
parading or hunting, or stalking. Presently, however, 
the children become interested in each other as mem- 
bers of groups. Because of this interest it becomes 
possible for us to cultivate an attitude of exclusiveness 
or antagonism toward all who are not members of the 
immediate group. In extreme cases this attitude ends 
in anti-social group action, and at best it ends in a 
rather narrow kind of nationalism or “ patriotism ”. 
But it is also possible to make use of the social interests 
and impulses in cultivating an ever widening conscious- 
ness of identity with other people. In the first case 
we have a perpetual source of antagonism or animosity 
toward strangers and foreigners. In the latter case 
there is the opportunity to direct the fighting instinct SUBSTITUTES FOR FIGHTING 
145 
against the enemies of the race, the obstructions to 
human welfare. 
But even before the child becomes interested in team 
plays or group action of any kind, we utilize essentially 
the same interest in conflict when we encourage rivalry, 
whether at home or in school, through prize contests and 
spelling matches, and in athletics we have races of vari- 
ous kinds. In these the individual is encouraged to put 
forth his best efforts, not for the purpose of cultivating 
his own abilities, but for the purpose of excelling some 
other particular child. 
The bread-baking contests and the dress-making 
competitions for girls, like the corn-raising or shop 
contests for boys, utilize the same motives of rivalry 
as we find in the ordinary athletic contests or street 
fights. But the form of the conflict and the material 
consequences are in no way objectionable. 
When the older children are organized for team play, 
we begin to get the kinds of sacrifice that the group 
always demands of the individual, and in many respects 
the more vigorous forms of athletic sports are quite 
the equivalent of good fighting, so far as the partici- 
pants are concerned. The motives are still those of 
rivalry, but the prospective gain of victory is now no 
longer for the individual, but for the group. And when 
boys all but exhaust themselves for the “ glory of the 
school,” the moral results are of the highest kind. 
We go a step farther when the corn-clubs conquer 
insects and fungi, and control the soil and the seasons 
for the glory of their county or district, for soon the 
interest may be extended from the mere “ beating ” of 146 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
the rivals to the increased contribution to the corn- 
crib at home. The same kinds of results morally are 
obtained when we utilize the group rivalries in a “ clean- 
up contest.” The girls will make their streets and yards 
and porches as attractive as possible, at first for the 
purpose of making a better showing than those of the 
next street. Presently, however, the interest may be 
directed so as to center upon the chasing of Dirt as 
the villain of the drama. 
Now the older children can be led to abandon the 
group rivalries as they had already outgrown the in- 
dividual rivalries, and the object of attack can now be 
made some impersonal enemy, rather than some par- 
ticular person or group. There is enough to fight for 
and to fight against. The fundamental differences be- 
tween extreme pacifists and extreme advocates of war 
as a means for solving human problems, are probably 
“ temperamental,” but they do not concern the principle 
of the right or wrong of fighting. These differences 
center about the values of life and life relations, and 
about the best way of attaining various major ends. 
All fairly healthy children are fighters, in the narrower 
sense, at some time in their development. Some con- 
tinue through life to resort to force as a means of 
settling disputes, or of obtaining what is desired. 
Others abandon physical force in dealing with their 
neighbors and friends, but continue to use it in relation 
to more remote groups and individuals. It would seem 
that there are also differences as to the objects for 
which people would use force; some would justify 
“ fighting for a principle,” but would condemn fighting SUBSTITUTES FOR FIGHTING 
147 
for material gain—and others would just reverse this 
attitude. But in the end it is a question of how far 
we have evolved in our sympathies, in our imagination, 
in our self-control. 
Boys and girls who have learned to cooperate in 
various kinds of group contests need not abandon the 
fighting motives and the powerful organizing influences 
that these motives exert upon our activities, as they 
grow older. But they must be taught to select more 
and more worthy enemies, as well as more and more 
worthy causes. Disease still remains to be conquered, 
for example, and the best physicians and nurses ap- 
proach their work in the spirit of the soldier. Still 
more imagination, still wider sympathy are required to 
attack the enemy, Disease, through the refined instru- 
ments of research of a modern scientific institute. 
Here all the fighting instinct is directed toward the 
solving of complex problems, toward the conquering of 
obscure yet formidable obstacles. Here the element 
of rivalry is at a minimum, for the contest is with im- 
personal forces. Here the motives are of the loftiest, 
for the beneficiary of the struggle is no narrow group, 
but the whole race. Here the stimulus to effort is far 
removed from such emotions as anger, envy, or hatred. 
In similar ways, vast engineering and economic and 
social problems furnish worthy foes for the fighting in- 
stincts of our boys and girls. It is necessary to recon- 
cile our loftiest sentiments with the inescapable fact 
that all life is struggle. We can shift the plane of the 
struggle from that of personal or group aggrandize- 
ment at the expense of others; we can shift the motives 148 
THE CHILD’S PUGNACITY 
of the struggle from fear and hatred; we can shift the 
methods of the struggle from brute force and cunning. 
But to live is to fight, and we must teach our children 
to make the best fight possible. INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY THE CRAVING FOR ADVENTURE 
Every little while the newspapers shock us with an 
account of a girl from an excellent home disappearing 
mysteriously, to be found later as a waitress in a cheap 
restaurant, or as a “ hand ” in the factory of a neigh- 
boring city. The corresponding escapades of boys are 
not quite so shocking to us, and if it appears that the 
child’s home is not all that it should have been, we 
shake our heads and say, “ Well, what could you 
expect ? ” 
But we have no right to shake our heads, or to dis- 
criminate against the boys. All healthy children are 
born with a remnant of that racial restlessness that led 
to the migrations of whole peoples in ancient times, that 
started the knights on their errant quests in the Middle 
Ages, and that swells our “ tramp ” population after 
every wave of economic depression today. The im- 
pulse to wander from the familiar to the unknown ap- 
pears about as soon as the child can walk, and is re- 
strained chiefly by the fear of the unknown. At one 
time or another, every one of us probably felt the 
desire to run away from home—girls as well as boys. 
And if you and I did not run away, it was not because 
of our superior virtue; more likely it was because of 
our inferior courage. 
To say, however, that the impulse to fare forth in 
search of the new and exciting is a common heritage of 
151 152 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
the race, will hardly satisfy the parent who receives a 
note from the venturesome son announcing that the 
latter has departed for the “ West ” to kill Indians. 
Nor will our understanding of this deep-seated instinct 
help at all if it merely leads us to bolt our doors and 
bar our windows. The child who has been carefully 
guarded at home is in just as great need of an outlet 
for his impulses to seek new experiences as is the com- 
paratively neglected child who may come and go without 
the obligation to account for his time. Indeed, it is the 
closely restrained child that is more likely, when the 
opportunity presents itself, to break his bonds and 
escape his solicitous but rather tiresome guardians. 
The monotony of a well-regulated life is obnoxious 
not only to the spirited boy or girl; it is equally 
obnoxious to more “ settled ” adults. But burdened 
as we are with responsibilities, or with conscience, or 
with a lack of imagination, we seek to make a virtue of 
necessity and preach the righteousness of humdrum 
and convention. Yet all the time we remain true to 
our deeper instincts and attempt to compensate the 
tedium of the common life through vicarious adventures 
on the stage or in the book. The masses of cheap fic- 
tion, the lurid melodrama, and the moving picture shows 
appeal to millions of grown-ups not so much as pictures 
of life to be appreciated or criticised; they appeal 
chiefly as substitutes for the romance and adventure 
that every person craves. 
It is a common mistake to attribute to the highly 
colored detective stories and wild-west literature the 
boys’ desire to forsake the happy homes we have pro- THE CRAVING FOR ADVENTURE 
153 
vided for them. It is true that these tales help to 
stimulate and encourage the inclination to experi- 
ment with life. And it is also true that the reading 
and the theater will largely determine the form that 
the adventures take. Boys who never read about killing 
Indians will never set forth to kill Indians; boys who 
never read tales of the sea will not run away from an 
inland town to seek out the mysteries of the fo’castle. 
But the restlessness that drives us from our routine is 
one thing; while the path we follow once we start is 
quite another. The kind of reading that children get 
and the kind of theatricals they witness, are important 
because they serve as guides to the land of high ro- 
mance, and they should therefore be carefully selected. 
But the books and the shows are not to be blamed for 
the heart’s desire to explore beyond the border of bore- 
dom. 
We must recognize that the nomadic instincts that 
make many tribes and races incapable of developing a 
high type of civilization, are of the same stuff as the 
spirit of research and adventure that have made prog- 
ress and civilization possible for the more settled peoples 
of the earth. The explorers and scientists and inves- 
tigators are those who departed from the beaten path, 
those who cut trails where there were no paths at all. 
At the same time we must also recognize that it is 
extremely inconvenient, to say the least, to have John 
or Mary leave the home we have tried to make so attrac- 
tive, in search of more excitement than we have pro- 
vided. The child that runs away from home and is then 
left to his own resources may indeed turn out to be a 154 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
great inventor or discoverer; but he is more likely to 
turn out a worthless wanderer on the face of the earth. 
In facing this deep instinct in our children it is well 
to abandon all attempts to overcome it. The way to 
prevent the burglars from blowing up the safe is to 
leave the safe unlocked; and the way to prevent Johnnie 
from breaking out of the home is to leave the door wide 
open. We must provide, in other words, for an abun- 
dance of experiences and adventures that carry the boys 
and girls into new surroundings and that bring new 
stimulations. Long tramps and camping expeditions, 
trolley rides into the remoter corners of the county and 
visits to distant relatives, opportunity for boating or a 
tent in the woods—these are the things that will make 
life so interesting that the temptation to go beyond 
will be minimized. If children do not so frequently 
seek to escape from the homes of the more prosperous, 
it is not because of better training or more comfortable 
surroundings; it is because those who can afford it 
travel with their children or send their children on 
travels, and thus open the door that can be kept closed 
only as a temptation to youth to force it. THE CHILD’S CHANCE FOR SPONTANEITY 
It was at a tea party, and children had not even been 
mentioned, since the weather was fine and none had 
been ailing of late. But then the baby of the house was 
brought home by her attendant, and of course she was 
immediately taken into the assemblage for exhibition 
and admiration. The little lady behaved very nicely; 
she made the rounds of the company, shook hands, and 
said “How do?” and courtesied in the approved 
fashion. Everyone was charmed, and the talk did at 
last drift to children. One mother was particularly 
impressed. “ Would your child do all that in com- 
pany? ” she asked of her nearest neighbor. But she 
evidently took it for granted that he or she would not, 
for she went right on to explain about her own 
Rosalynd. 
“ Rosalynd is going on five, and she is so timid. 
When there is a stranger in the house you can’t get 
her to say a word. I cannot make her greet people 
properly, she’s so shy. I wonder how you make your 
children less timid.” 
The nearest neighbor could not tell just how she 
did make her children less timid. 
Did they always speak up as nicely as little Lucille 
had done? 
No, not always; though sometimes they did, and you 
never could tell in advance. But the mother did not 
155 156 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
insist. Sometimes one person will affect a child so 
that he is not like his usual self. He becomes fright- 
ened, or he is antagonized. And some people make a 
child self-conscious, more than others. 
Well, Rosalynd had a chance to go to a picnic party 
with a round dozen other children, most of them 
strangers, and six grown-ups. The mother hesitated 
about letting her go, she was so sure the child would 
be nervous and shrinking. She thought it would be well 
to send the nurse along, to save possible embarrassment. 
The child, being of the shrinking kind, would be a 
nuisance among strangers. But the party was a grand 
success. The strangers, children and adults, never 
suspected that Rosalynd was one of the shrinking kind. 
She engaged freely in conversation, and when there was 
none about for her to engage in, she started some on 
her own initiative. She made suggestions for improv- 
ing the luncheon for “ next time ”, and she asked for 
what she wanted without any outward sign of hesita- 
tion. She helped herself to the toys that had been 
brought for the children, without ceremony, and ex- 
pressed preferences and dislikes as to food and games 
with the composure of an experienced miss of at least 
six years—and she was only “ going on five If she 
had any doubts or misgivings of any kind, she managed 
to conceal them most artfully. On the whole, she was 
as self-possessed a young person as one would wish to 
meet. 
Now, why did her mother consider her such a timid 
child? And why did she at home give the impression 
of being shy? It is probable that the only thing that CHILD’S CHANCE FOR SPONTANEITY 
157 
troubled the little girl at home was too much care on 
the part of the mother and the nurse. She had always 
been closely watched, and helped with every trifle. She 
had no chance to use her own initiative and resourceful- 
ness, and the advent of strangers usually meant a per- 
formance calculated to make the child conscious of 
herself. Under such circumstances, it is to be expected 
that she wrould “ shrink ” on very slight provocation. 
When the child gets among strangers in a new situa- 
tion, where there is little to remind him of his daily 
associations, the naturally timid child will feel lost and 
uncomfortable. He may be “ scared ” to the point of 
being unable to do anything at all. On the other hand, 
a fairly healthy child who is not self-conscious will 
find in the new surroundings all sorts of stimulation 
for his activity. His curiosity will be aroused and he 
will be tempted to explore the nooks and the objects 
wTith refreshing simplicity. A city child taken to the 
country will be tempted to “ let himself out ” in run- 
ning and shouting; and if that is very different from 
his accustomed conduct, it is because his daily life does 
not give the necessary opportunities for free and spon- 
taneous activity. 
The children of the poor, as compared with those 
of the well-to-do, are not overburdened with the solici- 
tous attentions of anxious parents and nurses. The 
anxieties there are directed toward other concerns. 
These children develop more rapidly, because circum- 
stances demand of them quick decisions and the constant 
exercise of whatever resources they may have. The 
casual observer frequently notes that the newsboy on 158 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
the busy corner is such a “ bright ” lad; but he does 
not as frequently notice the handicap that goes with 
the brightness and opportunities of the newsboy or of 
the child whose playground is the street. Nor does he 
note that the temptations of the street are so frequently 
too strong for the ordinary child to resist. 
On the other hand, the children of the more prosper- 
ous families are handicapped by too monotonous an 
environment, which fails to develop self-reliance— 
which is not the same as self-satisfaction. These 
children do not so readily show what they have in 
them; they are called upon merely to exhibit what the 
parents or nurses and teachers call for. The routine 
of the daily visit to Riverside Drive, the conventions 
of the home and of the summer at a fashionable sea- 
side resort, do not give the mother a chance to know 
her child, because these conditions do not give the 
child a chance to express himself through a sufficiently 
wide range of relationships. 
The only thing I can say to Rosalynd’s mother is, 
“ Give your child at least as good a chance as ordinary 
folks give their children; let her show what she can 
do when she is not coached or prompted.” MICE AT PLAY 
As we look about among our acquaintances, we may 
see that in some households the absence of the mother, 
even for a day, is sure to result in a great deal of 
irregularity—to say the least—in the conduct of the 
children. In other homes, on the contrary, almost any 
adult in charge would find the children going on about 
their games and other activities as though nothing un- 
usual had occurred. 
The difference between these two types of homes 
does not show so much a difference between children, 
as one between the viewpoints or habits of parents. 
In some cases parents rule with a high hand, and the 
children have constantly in their presence a feeling of 
restraint. To the child, what may be done and what 
may not be done are altogether arbitrary matters, de- 
termined by the authority of parent or teacher. That 
is to say, “ right ” and “ wrong ” are somehow vaguely 
synonymous with permitted and forbidden. Whenever, 
therefore, a prohibition is removed, there will be the 
impulse to try the forbidden experience; and where the 
absence of parents withdraws the restraints, children 
will take advantage of their absence to indulge in what 
they are usually forbidden. Whoever is left in author- 
ity when the parents are away, whether she be a friend, 
a relative, or a servant, is sure to find a strong tend- 
ency to break out. 
159 160 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
Many years ago the school reader contained a story 
entitled “ Mice at Play,” which described the naughty 
antics of a houseful of children during the temporary 
absence of their parents. All sorts of forbidden deeds 
were indulged in, mysterious cupboards were explored, 
and the pantry was raided. This nearly forgotten 
tale was brought forcibly to my memory recently by 
a friend whose sister had to leave her children for a 
few days. My friend telephoned to her sister’s house 
to find out how the children were getting on, and was 
assured by the maid that they were very well. And 
with much emphasis the maid added the further item 
that the children were also very good. It was the 
stress that the maid laid upon this fact that the children 
were very good, although the parents were away, that 
made such an impression. 
Now, what is the matter with those children who are 
just as “good” when the cat’s away as they are at 
other times? You might think there is something un- 
canny about such children. But really, they are quite 
normal and full of fun. I know them myself and can 
say that they have the same instincts for play and mis- 
chief as other children. 
It appears that there are many people who expect, 
as a matter of course, that children will be “ naughty ” 
when the restraining influence of the parents is removed. 
No doubt the proverb “ When the cat’s away the mice 
will play ” had its origin in the fact that the pres- 
ence of parents or of other adults was a severe restraint 
upon the activities of the children. And no doubt this 
fact is to many a sufficient argument for the constant MICE AT PLAY 
161 
exercise of some restraint in the form of “ discipline.” 
Yet it should not be difficult to see that for practical 
purposes just the opposite point of view is likely to 
lead to more effective results. 
The mother must learn to suppress her own instinct 
to say “ don’t ” every time one of the children starts to 
do something that is not on her programme. The 
children have the impulse to do a thousand things that 
seem foolish to you and me; but most of them are quite 
harmless and need not be stopped unless the adults are 
very selfish and irritable. There is no harm done when 
Mary Jane skips and hops into the next room, instead 
of walking decorously, after being sent to fetch some- 
thing. Nor is it a very serious thing for Bobby to use 
the wash-basket as a boat—on the dining-room floor. 
I do not mean to say that children should feel free 
to use everything about the house without permission. 
But if permission is given to use everything that can be 
used without harm, or to displace things that can easily 
be replaced, they are not likely to feel the temptation 
to do these things when your back is turned. In fact, 
the fewer the forbidden acts, the fewer temptations 
there will be. 
The problem is by no means confined to the home. 
It has its counterpart in the school, in industry, and in 
government. Many a teacher who prides herself on 
her “ discipline,” can show visitors any day perfect 
order on the part of her pupils. The work proceeds 
with mechanical regularity; every child seems to know 
his place—and keeps it. There are no unnecessary 
movements or sounds. But the same children, once 162 
INITIATIVE AND SPONTANEITY 
out of sight of the teacher, are declared by other 
teachers in the school to be the most unruly and the 
most unreliable. What then avails all this discipline 
if it can be made to “ function ” only in the presence 
of a police force? 
And so, working with more mature people, under 
somewhat different conditions of temptation and mo- 
tive, the manager whose shops or offices produce high 
records of “ efficiency,” as long only as he keeps his 
hands firmly on the machinery of administration. For 
the time being, the mother, the teacher, the manager 
may be satisfied with the results. Sooner or later, how- 
ever, the over-restrained and the over-managed may 
be expected to be separated from the machinery of 
discipline. Then the inevitable result is chaos. For 
the order and unity of the regulated lives, instead of 
being the result of growth in self-control and self- 
direction, were but the temporary impress of outward 
necessity. 
We have too often treated the expanding force of 
growing children as we treat the expanding force of a 
kettleful of steam. The latter may be made to work 
properly only as it is confined to fixed channels—and 
when the lid comes off, all escapes. The child, on the 
contrary, is an organism quite as capable of becoming 
a self-directing and purposeful personality as is the 
parent or policeman who undertakes to “ discipline ” 
him. And this he becomes not through restraint and 
suppression, but through guidance and spontaneity. 
The child must have an abundance of spontaneous 
action, because only thus can he try out his various MICE AT PLAY 
163 
possibilities in relation to things and people. Only 
thus can he get the opportunity to select and evaluate 
the activities that are worth while, to reject what is 
not worth while, what is injurious, what leads to pain 
and sorrow. And it is through such selection and 
rejection that he comes at last to be the master of his 
thoughts and conduct. 
It is true, on the other hand, that the child needs 
guidance, for if left quite to himself, his random and 
spontaneous actions would soon lead to his undoing. 
But guidance must be something more than the mother’s 
habit of saying “ Don’t do that! ” The dependence of 
the child upon the mother should be for leadership and 
counsel, and not for constant admonition of the terrors 
of the law. 
The removal of the usual head of a group should not 
result in an outbreak of suppressed feelings. On the 
contrary, there should be an increased sense of responsi- 
bilty, a keen desire on the part of each to do his part 
fittingly under the novel conditions. 
The difference between the two points of view is very 
much like that between an absolute monarchy in the 
hands of a tyrant, and a well-governed democracy. 
In the former, the slightest relaxation of vigilance on 
the part of the repressive forces gives occasion for a 
violent outbreak. In the latter, the populace does not 
look upon the government as an enemy to be resisted or 
an authority to be overthrown, but rather as a part of 
its own machinery for carrying out its wishes. CHARACTER AS HABIT CONTROL OF HABIT FORMATION 
Every person who has had even a slight opportunity 
to observe children and adults, will have noticed the 
one great fact about the economy of habit. The thou- 
sand things that you do during a single day, from the 
time you dress yourself to the time you brush your 
teeth at night, are mostly acts of habit. If each act 
were not habitual, it would require so much thought 
and attention, that you could hardly do much more 
than get past your breakfast before bedtime. Habits 
enable us to do the necessary everyday things without 
conscious effort, thus leaving the mind free to do the 
new things, to attend to the really interesting things, 
to solve the new problems that constantly arise. 
A great thinker has said that habit is nine-tenths of 
life. Whatever the exact proportion may be, the im- 
portance of habit is so great that we cannot afford to 
neglect the habits that our children are acquiring. And 
it is well for us to appreciate how far the habits of our 
children depend upon ourselves. Most of the habits 
that have to do with everyday things are fixed in 
childhood. When children get to the high school age, 
they acquire new sets of habits as a result of their 
thinking about life and character. That is, they de- 
velop ideals and try to live up to them. It is therefore 
the first duty of the mother to see that her younger 
child acquires the fundamental habits that are necessary 
167 168 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
for his welfare and for his happy association with 
others. And it is her next duty to see to it that as 
the child approaches adolescence, he has the oppor- 
tunity and stimulus to acquire lofty ideals. 
The forming of a habit has been compared to the 
wrinkling of a garment that has been worn a great 
deal. The cloth is bent along certain lines a number 
of times, and sooner or later it stays bent. In much 
the same way a series of actions that have been per- 
formed in connection with a given situation is repeated. 
After you have changed your wardrobe from one closet 
to another, you will find yourself going to the first for 
many days, whenever you start to get some clothes. 
If you have been answering the telephone call, you will 
start at the ring of the bell, even in another person’s 
house, like an old war horse at the sound of the bugle. 
A child forms new habits much more easily than an 
older person, and there is therefore the greater danger 
of the formation of undesirable habits. On the other 
hand, the young child is for the same reason all the 
more teachable, and can more easily learn good habits. 
A baby of eleven months, whose mother had carefully 
watched her development, and had especially guarded 
against the forming of bad habits, was awakened one 
evening by some noisy visitors. These insisted on see- 
ing the baby, who, when she was taken into the lighted 
room, seemed to enjoy the fun as much as the admiring 
friends did. But the following night she awoke again, 
and this time she cried until someone came to her. 
She had no pain; she was not hungry and there was 
apparently nothing else the matter with her; for as CONTROL OF HABIT FORMATION 
169 
long as anyone staid with her and talked, she was 
happy, but when she was left alone, she began to cry 
again. Her mother concluded that she was simply 
calling for a repetition of the previous evening’s amuse- 
ment and let her cry for half an hour. Had she been 
indulged a second and a third time, it would have, no 
doubt, been very difficult later to get her back into her 
regular ways. For she would have established a new 
habit through a few repetitions of the experience, ac- 
companied by pleasurable feelings. 
It is possible to begin the training of the child’s 
habits much earlier than most people believe. At the 
age of only a few days most children can be trained 
in regular hours of feeding. As they sleep most of 
the time at first, the habit of going to sleep does not 
concern the mother. But in a few weeks it may be 
observed that the child’s going to sleep at fixed hours 
can be controlled by putting him in the right position, 
darkening the room, etc. Modern mothers do not rock 
their children, and some of the older women find it hard 
to understand how the child can be put to sleep without 
rocking. But dependence upon rocking is an acquired 
habit on the part of the child; and he can acquire a 
different habit just as easily. 
It is one of the fundamental principles of human 
conduct that any act which leads to a happy conclusion 
tends to repeat itself. And this is just as true of 
thinking and feeling as it is of doing something with 
the hands. So if you make it worth while for Jimmy 
to persist in teasing for what he wants, he will surely 
repeat the act, until he gets the habit. 170 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
A mother spoke rather complainingly of her incon- 
siderate son, who was shrewd enough to make his cam- 
paign for air-rifles or tickets for the circus, or what- 
ever else he wanted, just when the mother had a head- 
ache and was unable to resist his importunate demands. 
The boy had probably learned from experience that 
certain conditions were more favorable for his suit than 
others, and he naturally took advantage of this knowl- 
edge. There was no calculation in the matter, and the 
boy was no more inconsiderate than other boys of his 
age. His mother had simply allowed him to acquire 
the habit of recognizing certain “ signs ” as “ lucky ” 
for his purpose. 
Every habit is the result of repetitions. If we wish 
a child to acquire any particular habit, whether it has 
to do with learning to play some instrument, or with 
a manner of speech, we must make sure that he repeats 
the desired act a sufficient number of times—and the 
habit will be there. The problem is thus largely one 
of providing suitable inducements for repeating the 
act. This does not mean that we must offer children 
some reward for practicing, or for doing things in 
general the right way. There are various ways of 
providing the inducements for repetition. Thus, the 
child who mispronounces words from infancy, needs 
usually but to hear the words pronounced properly, 
and through imitation he will repeat the correct sounds 
until they become habitual with him. Most habits are 
acquired by children because certain acts which they 
perform bring with them various satisfactions, which CONTROL OF HABIT FORMATION 
171 
in turn furnish the inducements for further repetition, 
until the habits are fixed. 
When we are trying to fix habits in a young child 
we should introduce the desired actions into the child’s 
routine, and insist upon their performance on every 
occasion—whether it is saying the prayers nightly or 
putting the toys away. And the desired bits of conduct 
must be practiced at the time when they have meaning 
in relation to other affairs. It is not enough to take 
the single step correctly all by itself. The dancing 
master makes the child go back and start over again, 
so that the right step may become one of the fixed 
series of right steps. 
Until the habits are fixed, allow no exceptions to 
occur. Every exception has its dangers, because it 
may introduce new interests, new satisfactions, tempt- 
ing to a repetition of the exception and making this the 
new order. 
The same principle applies to the breaking of habits. 
Every exception is like a switch that may let the train 
of events get side-tracked, with possibly disastrous re- 
sults. The child must stop chewing his gum at once. 
Whatever it is that must be stopped, must be stopped 
the instant the action is noticed, and not allowed a 
little extension of time for practice in the objectionable 
act. “ Just this once ” is the greatest enemy to the 
development of good habits; and it is the greatest 
obstacle to the conquest of bad habits. RULES AND EXCEPTIONS 
With very young children it is essential to have a 
fixed regularity in the daily routine, if it can possibly 
be carried out. In the matter of eating and sleeping, 
in dressing and the toilet, in putting away toys and 
clothes, in table manners and in the details of courteous 
conduct, the routine must be observed, Avith never an 
exception. This is necessary because it is the only way 
of getting the children into the habit of disposing of 
the daily necessities in a routine way. It is apparently 
the only way of achieving these results. Yet wise folks 
know that all rules are meant to be broken, although 
it is not safe to< let the children find this out—too soon. 
So it happens that some grow up without ever finding 
this out, and a hard time they have of it ever after. 
We can understand the astonishment of Aunt Jo 
who dropped in unexpectedly one evening and found 
eight-year-old Marion sitting up and reading, and the 
hour long after the usual bedtime. 
“ Why, I thought your children never stay up after 
seven o’clock! ” was her way of showing that she knew 
that rules were rules. 
That had been the rule; that was still the rule for 
the younger children. 
“ But now,” explained the mother, “ Marion stays 
up a half hour later on Saturday night, because we can RULES AND EXCEPTIONS 
173 
sleep later on Sunday, and because father comes home 
later on Saturday.” 
These were very good reasons for staying up later; 
but to some people there never seems to be a good 
reason for breaking a rule, and that is really what 
bothers them—the difficulty of using discretion. Aunt 
Jo was one of those people, and she was one of a very 
large company. 
You know the saying about being offered an inch 
and taking a yard or so. Well, that seems to be par- 
ticularly true of children on the way to learning the 
rules of Life’s game. A change from the ordinary 
means a license to ignore the rule. During this period, 
therefore, every departure from the routine involves a 
serious setback. When habits are being acquired, no 
exception should be permitted. But after habits have 
been formed they must not be allowed to interfere with 
common sense or with our happiness. 
A friend out shopping with her little girl met me 
on a crowded street on a warm day. After talking of 
nothing in particular for a few moments, she told me 
half-apologetically that they were about to get some 
ice-cream soda, and asked whether I would join them. 
She explained her hesitation by saying, “ I did not 
think you would approve of children drinking ice-cream 
soda.” And of course I would not—as a steady diet. 
There are no doubt many children who consume too 
much of the colored and sweetened juices that are sold 
under various fancy names. And there is no doubt 
that children should learn to quench their thirst by 
means of plenty of good, clean water. It is also true 174 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
that if you give them a chance, they will nag and nag 
until you yield the nickle or dime that the soda-water 
man wants. But for all that it is perfectly legitimate 
to satisfy the taste for the cold and the sweet and the 
flavored confections—on occasion, and in moderation. 
It is a bad rule to indulge the soda-water habit; but 
it’s also a bad rule to be absolute in our approvals or 
disapprovals. We are not compelled to say to a child 
either “ You may always have what you wish,” or 
“ You may never have what you wish.” It is this 
always-or-never attitude, this inflexibility of judgment 
that antagonizes and estranges the growing child, and 
makes us old before our time. And it is quite unneces- 
sary, for it is possible to give the developing youngster 
a wholesome routine mitigated by more and more variety. 
It is possible for children to learn that there are justi- 
fiable exceptions to the usual way of doing things. 
Children love novelty so much, in general, that they 
are quite eager for everything that is out of the ordi- 
nary. Sometimes, however, they quickly become at- 
tached to the comfort of fixed routine. This seemed 
to be the case with little Alfred when his mother wanted 
him to go to sleep in a different room one evening, as 
she expected company and wished him to be farther from 
the noise. Alfred stuck to rules and traditions. He 
had always slept in that bed, and he would not change 
now. He was promised that he would be taken back 
to his own bed during the night, and would not be dis- 
turbed. But he held out against the irregularity of 
the proceeding—it was an unheard of thing to go to 
sleep in one place and wake up somewhere else. But RULES AND EXCEPTIONS 
175 
father called attention to the fact that people could go 
to sleep in a railway car in one city and wake up in an- 
other city many miles away. That was interesting; 
and Alfred fell into the game of playing that he was 
to take a journey from a distant city, and was to wake 
up in his own bed in the morning. This worked very 
well as a trick. But if that were repeated too fre- 
quently, it would soon break up any sense of order— 
or rather, the new way might gradually replace the old 
order. 
That is indeed the danger in making exceptions; 
but we must not be deterred by the danger. We must 
vary the routine as need arises and thus teach the 
children that a rule is not something absolute, but a 
convenience. We must teach them also to be the masters 
of their habits, and not the slaves. Children must re- 
tain as long as possible that peculiar power of youth— 
the ability to change from one set of habits to another. 
With advancing years and judgment, this means the 
ability to use discretion without rejecting the benefits 
of regularity. THE MIND AND CHARACTER OF THE CHILD 
Many a bright child absorbs the teachings offered 
him and develops a character that is very far from 
satisfactory; while among less “ gifted ” children are 
evolved useful and lovable spirits that amply compen- 
sate for the relatively feeble intellects. This is all 
common knowledge; yet we continue to be puzzled about 
it without making any efforts to clear up our under- 
standing. Or we continue to think and to act as 
though the development of the intellect were of itself 
sufficient to insure suitable training of the character. 
If we think of character in lowest terms, we shall 
find that it has to do with the way a person behaves 
in relation to others. Now for most people, this be- 
havior has very little to do with his learning or with 
his reason. We all know of comparatively ignorant 
people who have really high characters. They are 
honest in their dealings with their fellows, they are 
kindly, they are industrious, they are reliable in every 
way, without knowing much of the great outside world, 
without knowing anything of history or literature, 
without having any taste in music or art. 
On the other hand, every college has its share of 
graduates who are scamps. Every art center has its 
exquisite profligates. Every profession has its learned 
quacks and hypocrites. 
176 MIND AND CHARACTER OF THE CHILD 
177 
The fact is that while knowledge may be converted 
into power, it is in itself very far from being a substi- 
tute for wisdom. And still more remote is it from 
character. We know that children can acquire knowl- 
edge ; the important question for us is, can they develop 
character ? 
When we compare an infant with an older child and 
with an adult, we may see that, the lack of “ character ” 
on the part of the infant means that the child has not 
yet developed fixed habits in regard to certain things, 
whereas the older person has. You do not know just 
what the child will do under given circumstances, while 
you do know what the grown-up will do. It is the mass 
of habits that make up the foundation of the character 
which the child acquires. Habits of courteous speech, 
for example, may be mere imitations of other people’s 
speech, and very different from what the child would 
use if neglected in this regard. Yet, as it becomes a 
habit, it constitutes a distinctive part of the person’s 
character. The same is true of habits pertaining to 
all of our conduct as it affects others, whether it is 
merely turning to the right when passing, or stepping 
aside for an older person. It is through these little 
tricks of deference and politeness that a child learns 
respect, and it is from this that he develops an appre- 
ciation of the qualities that we wish him to look 
up to. 
It is possible to train every normal child into certain 
common habits of courtesy and table manners, if we 
only begin early enough with the right models for them 
to imitate, and keep it up persistently. A slouching 178 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
gait is hard to remedy; but rather easy to prevent. It 
is safe to say that a child may be made to acquire 
almost any habit that a human being can observe in 
another. The important question is to select the habits 
that are worth while, for the character we have in 
mind. 
And that suggests the second element that enters 
into the “ character ” that can be trained or cultivated. 
The comparison between young children and adults 
shows us that another difference in their characters 
lies in the comparative instability of the child’s 
likes or dislikes, and of his standards of right and 
wrong. Beginning with nearly direct imitation of what 
he sees his parents do, he comes in a few years to imag- 
ine himself doing things that he hears of others doing. 
When he begins to read about the exploits of great 
heroes, he projects himself into the characters of his- 
tory or legend, and for the time being he lives in the 
character that is uppermost in his interest. In this 
way, he absorbs from his immediate surroundings and 
from his reading and associates the ideals and princi- 
ples that will give stability and color to his conduct— 
that is, his character. 
How do these acquired or cultivated ideals, these 
so-called attitudes, give color to the character? They 
do this by determining largely the choice a person 
makes in solving a problem of conduct. Shall I do 
the easiest thing, or shall I do the “ right ” thing, 
whether it is easy or difficult? Shall I do the thing 
that will bring the quickest returns or shall I consider 
remoter results? Shall I do the thing that is best for MIND AND CHARACTER OF THE CHILD 
179 
the greatest number, or shall I sacrifice all considera- 
tions to my own gain or convenience? Shall I adver- 
tise my gifts before the world, or shall I conceal my 
pride from the eyes of men? 
Of course, none of us ever asks himself these ques- 
tions ; and of course we do not want the children to 
ask themselves these questions. But it is precisely such 
questions that are answered when we make our moral 
decisions. They are answered not by argument or 
debate, but by our habitual attitudes toward life values 
and life problems. And these habits, like our other 
habits, are largely the result of training. When we 
see a person with little or no intellectual training, but 
with a high character, we must recognize either that 
in the development of the child a rigid conformity to 
a certain type of conduct had been required until the 
habits were fixed, or that there had been held up high 
ideals that have become realized in conduct. 
It is of course true that children differ very much 
from one another not only in the readiness with which 
they form habits, but also in the readiness with which 
they can form active ideals. Nevertheless, the prob- 
lem for the parent is very largely that of cultivating 
the habits. The character finally consists of the habits 
of thought, the habits of action, the habits of feeling 
or attitude. 
Let us remember, however, that we do not cultivate 
habits by repeating rules and proverbs. There must 
be first of all good models for the child to imitate. 
Then there must be a preponderance of stimulation to 
do the “ right ” things, as against the temptation to 180 
CHARACTER AS HABIT 
do the undesirable. There must be experience in give 
and-take—at work and at play. And there must be 
a prevailing atmosphere in which all things are recog- 
nized to have their relative values. 
The rest belongs to the fates. THE CHILD S ACTIVITIES TOYS FOR ACTIVITY 
In one of the largest toy shops in one of our largest 
cities, a group of children, different enough in ages to 
be brothers and sisters, are inspecting the attractive 
display. In front of one counter they linger, five, ten, 
fifteen minutes. Other counters they pass by with 
marked indifference. Here one of the clerks is demon- 
strating a mechanical railway. The little train of cars 
shoots through the tunnels and flies over the bridges. 
It completes the circuit, coming back to the starting 
point, but the children continue to watch it on another 
round—and then another, and another. There is 
something fascinating in the movement of the toy cars. 
But time is pressing, and there is still much to see. 
Then we notice for the first time that the parents of 
the children have also become fascinated by the tiny 
railroad. But they recover themselves first, and urge 
the children to move on. And to move on, they need 
urging. 
At another counter are to be seen mechanical clowns 
and monkeys. One of the clerks winds up a toy, starts 
it on its round of contortions, and then winds up the 
next. Here a large crowd is always to be seen—and 
heard. For the antics of these performers are so amus- 
ing that everyone who comes within sight of them 
lingers and laughs. 
183 THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
On a broad, low counter, completely surrounded by 
children’s faces, is a miniature landscape upholstered 
in green excelsior, and bearing on its ample expanse a 
complete village, with surrounding farms and dairies. 
There is the church with the upward-pointing spire; 
and the schoolhouse, with its tiny flag. And there is 
the blacksmith shop, with its stained-cotton smoke. 
And all the people and all the horses and cows—and, 
look!—there’s even a cat on the back fence! Well, we 
have almost forgotten the children, as we stand here 
admiring one detail after another. It would take at 
least an hour to catalogue all that is to be seen in this 
marvelous imitation of a real village. And it is hard 
to tear ourselves away—to say nothing of the children. 
The parents of the children seem highly pleased. 
They are not merely reflecting the joy of the children, 
they are not merely revealing their own amusement in 
the wonderful things they have seen. They are con- 
gratulating themselves on the success of their shrewd 
scheme to make the children tell them what to buy for 
Christmas, without letting the children know that they 
are doing it. They have been making mental notes of 
how the children behaved as each novelty presented 
itself. They hope thus to discover what will most 
interest the children. 
And can anything be more reasonable than consult- 
ing these interests when you plan to get children toys? 
The only mistake that these thoughtful and painstaking 
parents made was in confusing the attractiveness of 
novelty and motion and color with the real interests 
of the children. They did not realize that the toys to TOYS FOR ACTIVITY 
185 
reach these interests were lying in boxes on the coun- 
ters that were passed quickly by. 
The child should have the opportunity to admire the 
beautiful, in nature and in art; but it is not for this 
that he should have toys. The child needs on occasion 
to be entertained, or amused; but it is not for this that 
he needs toys. He wants toys to play with. They 
have been making such beautiful toys for us in recent 
years, and such clever mechanical contrivances, which 
interest the old as well as the young, that we have 
almost forgotten what a toy is for. In thinking of a 
toy, the question should not be, What can the toy do? 
We should rather ask, What can the child do with it? 
Most of us experience much perplexity when it comes 
to selecting toys for children. We should be relieved 
of much of this if we accepted as our first principle: 
The toy is an object that will enable the child to do 
something. 
In selecting toys we must keep in mind what the 
particular child is already able to do, and what he 
needs to learn to do. These are the real interests of the 
child, who likes nothing better than to be doing. Oc- 
casionally a child will show marked individual tastes 
and special abilities. But aside from these compara- 
tively rare cases, the child’s interests are largely deter- 
mined by his age. 
When the baby has acquired sufficient control of his 
arms and legs to be able to find his toes and fingers, 
he needs to have something to handle and to grasp. 
The rattle, the ring, and the ball are quite sufficient to 
keep him busy and to interest him. 186 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
When the child learns to move about, it is no longer 
sufficient that he have something to grasp and to shake. 
He must now have something to lift and carry. Moder- 
ately large blocks, for which the small finger muscles 
are not put into play, nests of boxes and of balls will 
enable him to do as much as he can possibly think of 
doing. We must not be carried away by the “ cute- 
ness ” of very small blocks and boxes, and think that 
they are especially appropriate for the small child. 
For several years to come, the child will need to handle 
objects that he can grasp with the whole hand, rather 
than such as are picked up with the tips of the fingers. 
The fine movements come much later in the develop- 
ment of the child’s nerves and muscles. 
Presently the child comes to know things, as we can 
tell by his knowing the names of things. Now a doll 
will be welcome to the little girl—or to the little boy, 
for that matter. And representations of all the familiar 
animals are nice to hug and to drag about. But the 
first consideration in the selection of a wagon or cow 
or teddy-bear should be its ability to endure a great 
deal of hugging and dragging—and even of throwing, 
if need be. It is not at all necessary for these objects 
to be so much like the “ real ” things that they repre- 
sent as to arouse admiration. They need merely to 
suggest the dog or the horse, or whatever it is, for the 
child is largely concerned now in imagining, and the 
objects are symbols, or lay figures. There are tough, 
wooden animals in various sizes, that are quite as use- 
ful in every way as the woolly or fuzzy ones. The 
furs and feathers often found on toys of this class TOYS FOR ACTIVITY 
187 
may be impressive to adults, and they may make it 
possible to spend more money on a toy for a young 
child; but they are entirely superfluous from the child’s 
point of view, and they frequently render the toy less 
durable, to say nothing of catching dirt. 
From the time that the child is about two years old, 
until well along into school days, blocks of various 
kinds are useful for the child’s happiness and develop- 
ment. A chest of large blocks, while comparatively 
expensive, is in the long run a good investment. They 
should be large enough for the young child to use, 
and there should be enough of them for the older child 
to erect “ real ” stairways and forts. Large blocks 
are not so likely to get lost as smaller ones, and they 
will last for years, and will serve not only a succession 
of children, but several of them simultaneously, if 
necessary. 
Small blocks of wood or of artificial stone should be 
given to a child only when he is old enough to handle 
rather small objects, and after he has learned to put 
his things away, as otherwise too many pieces would 
get lost. With such blocks it is possible to develop 
rather elaborate architectural ideas, and they can be 
bought in small lots, so that a collection of them may 
grow to considerable size in the course of years. Many 
children will continue to find interest in these blocks 
until they are twelve or thirteen years old. 
The durability of a toy may do much to unify the 
interests of a child over a prolonged period. This is 
especially important when children come to the age 
in which they can understand the relations of things 188 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
to each other. A doll that has made a home for herself 
in the heart of a child, soon comes to need a carriage. 
Later she comes to need a wardrobe; and later still 
she must have a suitable habitation. In the same way, 
the horse must have a wagon, and this must have a 
suitable load; and both require a stable. As the child 
becomes more familiar writh the activities going on 
around, his play interest will call for the materials 
and objects necessary to represent these occupations. 
It thus becomes possible to add gradually one toy after 
another that will contribute to this interest. 
The doll’s house, instead of being completely fur- 
nished, as something good to lock upon, should rather 
be a bare framework that may serve as the basis for 
a long series of interesting and profitable activities. 
The furnishing of the house, the sewing of hangings 
and covers, the cutting out of pictures, and so on, will 
not only keep the child busy and out of mischief. 
These activities will stimulate thought, will exercise 
resourcefulness and invention, will cultivate applica- 
tion, as well as give training in the special skills de- 
manded by the work. There is a wide range of choice 
when it comes to equipping the kitchen and the laundry. 
All the things needed can be bought singly; and it is 
better to get one or two well-made pieces at a time 
than to buy a whole “ set ” of flimsy contraptions. 
The same principles apply to getting toys for other 
play interests that are modeled on the occupations of 
the community. The girl or boy who is playing store, 
or farm, or dairy will welcome gifts of toys that add 
to the equipment—as a pair of scales, or a new milk TOYS FOR ACTIVITY 
189 
wagon. Getting toys in relation to some central idea 
has the further advantage of holding the child’s inter- 
est by giving him something to look forward to. 
Children from the age of three or four years need, 
in addition to toys for their make-believe play, mate- 
rials for making “ real ” things. All kinds of “ cut- 
outs,” scrapbooks for pasting, paper, pasteboard and 
wooden strips for weaving and basketry, prepared 
“ clay ” for modeling will give the child a great deal 
of satisfaction as he finds himself producing visible 
effects and controlling the materials. The ground- 
glass drawing frames and water colors are very useful, 
as they furnish pleasurable activity that develops the 
child’s powers over his eye and hand. 
For employing the constructive interests, there have 
been recently offered several ingenious contrivances in 
metal and wood. Some of these consist of strips of 
perforated iron, with rods, wheels, screws, nuts, etc., 
out of which the child can construct trusses, bridges, 
cranes, wagons, and dozens of other objects. The sets 
come in different sizes, but all the parts are inter- 
changeable, and can also be bought separately, so that 
a collection can grow as the inventiveness of the child 
calls for more material. Wooden construction blocks 
on the same principle are made in several styles. Here 
the parts are joined together by dowel pins. These 
can be used by younger children, as the parts are 
larger, and their handling does not require such fine 
movements. But I would not give any of these to a 
child until after he had had considerable experience 
with free blocks, from which he could learn something 190 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
about balance, and stability; for the locked blocks 
often lead to structures that would be architecturally 
or mechanically impossible. 
Of the hundreds of new indoor games, there is little 
to be said except that nothing has yet appeared as an 
improvement on chess, checkers, and authors. If we 
are looking for something “ new,” let us remember 
that to the child all things are new. But if we must 
buy a novelty, we should be careful to avoid any game 
in which the chance element is too prominent. All the 
games that are accompanied by a set of dice or a spin- 
ning wheel should come under suspicion. 
Common sense will tell us that in buying tools and 
the implements for outdoor games, quality should be 
the first consideration. We must not let ourselves be 
tempted to get “ complete sets,” for if these are of 
good quality the prices are likely to be prohibitive. 
It is better to get one or two good pieces and slowly 
build up a collection. It is better also to combine the 
gift funds of several members of the family and buy 
a few substantial articles than to get a larger number 
of things that look gay enough at first, but soon go to 
pieces, and to the scrap heap. 
Durability in toys is of primary importance. Size 
and beauty of finish are secondary. In dolls, for ex- 
ample, it is possible now to get, if not quite the inde- 
structibility claimed by the manufacturers, at least a 
practical immunity to the loving caresses and neglect 
of the young owners. 
I have tried to suggest what we should keep in mind 
in selecting toys, and to show why it is not safe to be TOYS FOR ACTIVITY 
191 
guided merely by the attractiveness of the display, or 
by the interest aroused in us, or even in the children. 
Thus, the mechanical toys hold the attention for a 
time, but they are cast aside too soon. The best that 
can be said for them is that once in a while a boy will 
break one open to see what it is that makes it go. The 
elaborate detail of the miniature village will arouse 
admiration, but it gives the children nothing to do; and 
after the novelty has worn off the “ toy ” means 
nothing. 
Unfortunately much of what is offered us in the 
shops is made to catch our eyes and our coin. The 
decrepit dolls, lame ducks, and wheelless wagons con- 
stitute a monument to an unenlightened parenthood, 
too easy-going to determine what it wants, too ready 
to accept uncritically what is offered. The effective 
reform must come from parents who know what they 
want, and consistently buy only durable and worth- 
while toys, refusing to support the manufacturer of 
tawdry and flimsy imitations of real toys. BOOKS AND THE CHILD 
Where there is no vision the people perish; and 
that is just as true of the individual as it is of the 
nation. Moreover, it is the youth who shall see the 
visions and draw from them the inspiration for higher 
and better things. The richest source of visions for 
the child of today is the printed page that he reads 
himself or that is read to him in his early years. How 
important, therefore, is it that the child shall read only 
what is worth while, even though he does not read 
always what is best. With this thought in mind the 
selection of books for children’s reading becomes as 
serious a task as the selection of his other teachers. 
But there are several distinct purposes that the 
reading of books may promote, and every one of them 
quite legitimate in its way. Thus you may place be- 
fore the child a book for the purpose of imparting 
certain information, or for the purpose of arousing 
certain sentiments. You may seek to modify his moral 
point of view, or you may wish to cultivate his faith 
in certain doctrines. A book may be a convenient 
means for lazy pastime, or a source of indulgence. 
But no one book will be useful for all of these pur- 
poses ; and we must know both what we want of a 
book, and what may be expected of books, if we are to 
make the best use of these instruments in the child’s 
education. 
192 BOOKS AND THE CHILD 
193 
In selecting a book for a child, we must be careful 
to avoid on the one hand the temptation to get what 
is best or most pleasant for ourselves, and on the other 
hand that which is most pleasant for the child. We 
must take into consideration the child’s mental develop- 
ment, his inclinations, his needs; and we must keep a 
clear purpose steadfastly before us. It is not enough 
that a book be “ harmless ”; it must have something 
positive to recommend it. It must be not only a 
“ good ” book, but “ good for something.” By this 
is not meant that every book given to a child should 
inculcate all the virtues, nor that it should be “ instruc- 
tive ” in the ordinary sense. It is perfectly legitimate 
to use a book for purposes of recreation or amusement. 
But an amusing book may be of a kind that is in bad 
taste, or it may be one that is in good taste. An 
exciting tale of adventure may be devoid of the slight- 
est geographical information, but it need not be false 
in sentiment, it need not be one to give the child a 
perverted notion of human relations. 
The child, however, must be the basis upon which 
our judgment of the suitability of a book must be 
finally based; and we should therefore begin with the 
child. The book must reach the child’s interest; it 
must supply his needs, and it must meet his intellectual 
level. No matter how good a book may be from a lit- 
erary or from a scientific point of view, it will fail of 
its purpose if it shoots “ over the head ” of the reader; 
but no less so if it is too simple or elementary. 
Other standards are to be found outside of the 
child. A book that is to give information must give THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
reliable information. A book that deals with human 
relations must be imbued with sound sentiment. In all 
cases it is desirable that a book shall be in good taste. 
Even if it is meant merely to amuse the child, we 
should be sure that the amusement it offers is of a 
wholesome kind, and not the crude horseplay of the 
type found in certain “ Sunday supplements.” 
These standards, if they are to be of any help to us, 
must be used with discretion. We know already that 
the interests of the child are constantly shifting. Not 
lonly has each child his own individuality, but the 
changing years must be taken into account. And 
fashions cannot be overlooked. There are the seasonal 
variations in sports and games and other activities; 
there are also the reflections of the larger events and 
movements. There are the publicly celebrated anni- 
versaries and centennials, the great expositions and 
pageants. A convention meets in town, and a new in- 
terest comes into the life of the child, as it comes into 
the life of many an adult. 
The objective standards are no more fixed. Indeed, 
if they were, we should never need any new books. 
There are new discoveries from the laboratories and 
the exploring expeditions. There are new inventions 
in engineering and agriculture and medicine. There 
are new experiments in government, and new prob- 
lems in life. There are changes also in the fine arts, 
and1 new times bring new men into the foreground. 
All these ripples and larger waves in the stream of 
human affairs make their impressions upon the written 
record, and in selecting books we are selecting the BOOKS AND THE CHILD 
195 
portions of the record that our children are to make 
their own. 
It is a simple pedagogical device to study the life 
of a hero at a time when the children are making 
preparations to celebrate in some dramatic way the 
life of the hero. In like manner, we may take advan- 
tage of a current interest in some engineering enter- 
prise to advance acquaintance with the more difficult 
problems in this field. Or while the interest in nation- 
alities is uppermost, it may be utilized for imparting 
information about the peoples in the center of public 
attention. For this purpose good histories and biogra- 
phies are of great value; and of these there is for- 
tunately a good selection to be had. More important 
in some ways, especially for younger children, are the 
collections of the folk and fairy tales of different races 
and nationalities; it is from these that one most read- 
ily gets that peculiar flavor that is distinctive of the 
thoughts and feelings of a people. From these, too, 
the child may learn a great deal about the customs 
and manners of different peoples, as they show them- 
selves in matters that are usually considered too trivial 
to merit special description—as the ways of eating and 
dressing, saluting and (sleeping, etc. The excellent 
pictures found in so many of the recent books are 
particularly helpful in this connection. 
Although the public that buys and reads books has 
not been very critical, or at least not very clear as to 
its standards, the older books have been obliged to pass 
through a process of selection—they have had to stand 
the test of time, as we say—and only the best of them 196 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
survive. Upon many of these the later writers of 
children’s books have not been able to improve. Yet 
many of the old favorites cannot be recommended for 
the children now, because our children must get a new 
vision for a new day; and these old favorites do not 
help. This is especially true of books that deal with 
nature and science topics, and of books that picture 
social relations. Thus, some nature books, although 
they approach the animal world in terms of the peren- 
nial question “ Why? ” give their answers in the spirit 
of modern science, as against that of the older mysti- 
cism of the natural history books. Again, some of the 
travel stories picture child life in various foreign 
lands with a real sympathy that is in harmony with 
the modern spirit of international friendship. 
Another point at which the newer books are better 
than most of the older ones is in their deeper appre- 
ciation of the workings of the child’s mind. We all 
remember the goody tales of a generation or more ago, 
that forced the “ moral ” to the front with such vigor 
that they made of the children either little hypocrites 
or little pharisees. The moral value of the best recent 
books is greater because the moral purpose in them is 
attained more effectively if less obtrusively. 
The most valuable and the most significant of the 
newer books for children are those that inspire interest 
in and regard for those human activities that deal 
especially with the overcoming of nature’s obstacles to 
our well-being, and with the making of the results 
of these triumphs available to all mankind. They con- 
tain the elements of the heroic that appeal to all BOOKS AND THE CHILD 
197 
healthy children, and they are free from the narrowly 
partisan that too frequently belittles the heroic in past 
history. 
With the rapid growth of free libraries, and espe- 
cially with the development of the children’s depart- 
ments, most children probably have access to more 
books—more worth-while books—than they can ever 
use profitably. This makes the selection still more 
urgent, although the danger of getting objectionable 
books is greatly diminished. But with the greater op- 
portunity to get at books, there goes very often a cer- 
tain separation between the book and the home. The 
book comes to be, as it were, a temporary visitor in the 
home, instead of being a permanent part of the estab- 
lishment. This is unfortunate because it prevents the 
cultivation of that intimacy with books which is possi- 
ble only if they are about to be opened frequently for 
short communion, as the mood may dictate, instead of 
being kept only for “ reading through.” Children 
should, of course, be able to read books through, and 
there are many books that are to be read through and 
then dismissed. But the child needs also to learn how 
to get from a book but a chapter or a paragraph at 
a time, how to come back to a book again and again, 
how to make his own just that which concerns him. 
This means learning to discriminate, to select; but this 
is possible only with books that belong in the home, 
and not with books that are borrowed for a limited 
period. THE ARTS IN THE LIFE OF THE CHILD 
Some time during the last century, parents with 
solicitude for the higher life of their children, and 
with the means to give the children fuller opportunities, 
discovered that training in the “ arts ” would add both 
to the enjoyment of life and to the esteem of their 
fellows. But in providing the instruction in music or 
painting, they had to resort to musicians and painters. 
And these specialists in art taught the children from 
the point of view of training specialized performers 
which most of the children were never going to become. 
The result was in most cases a rather superficial “ ac- 
complishment ”—which has indeed its social value, but 
which meant very little either as performance or as 
enrichment of life. 
Several things have happened to make us change our 
attitude in these matters. With all the bad perform- 
ing, extending to ever larger circles of our population, 
there came a more critical recognition of the real qual- 
ity of our vulgarized playing and painting. There 
came also, quite incidentally as it were, a growing 
appreciation of the arts—the mechanical reproduction 
of good music and of good pictures being very largely 
responsible for this, in making accessible to almost 
every person the opportunity to hear and see the best 
as well as the tawdry. Moreover, our thinking about 
the development of the mental and emotional life, as 
198 THE ARTS IN THE LIFE OF THE CHILD 
199 
problems in education and training, has brought us to 
a realization of the more valuable part of the child’s 
contact with art forms. 
We are thus in a position to look upon the arts in 
the life of the child in terms of enlarging the child’s 
life, and not in terms of performing for the approval 
or admiration of others. And we are in a position to 
think of the training from the lay point of view, rather 
than from the professional side. If then, we still place 
before the child the clay or the paint brush, the piano 
or the violin, it is not so much in the hope of making 
a name for the family. Rather is it in the expectation 
that the child may thus be enabled to find himself, that 
he may acquire further means of expression, that he 
may add to his enjoyment of life through acquaint- 
ance with the emotional resources of the various arts. 
For most children, that is to say, the study of music 
and drawing should be not primarily for the purpose 
of cultivating technical proficiency, but for the purpose 
of cultivating deeper appreciations through an under- 
standing of form, design, etc. This is quite the same 
as our teaching of literature to children; some of them 
may become creative artists—and this often in spite 
of the schooling—but for most children we hope merely 
to increase and to refine the appreciation of good liter- 
ature. 
Both for the purpose of refining the appreciation, 
and for the purpose of discovering the child’s capaci- 
ties, we should provide as many points of contact with 
art expression as we can possibly command. If you 
provide piano lessons for your child, even though you 200 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
do so just because everybody is doing it, it is well. If 
you provide dancing lessons, or singing, or painting, 
it is well. If you provide two or three or four oppor- 
tunities, it is still better. But how can we afford all 
these things for every child—and how can the child 
possibly get the time for all these various “ lessons ” ? 
If we attempted to add these special lessons to the 
full day, we should be attempting the impossible; nor 
would this be desirable if we could manage it. The 
aim should be rather to incorporate the arts into the 
life of the child, as we already do in part. The hand- 
work of the early school years—clay modeling and 
beadwork, for example—and the music the young child 
hears, are, together with his other activities and experi- 
ences, of the very substance of his life. 
It is largely because our modern conditions of life 
give most of us only the finished products of the vari- 
ous arts, that so many children grow up in total igno- 
rance of the activities and the opportunities of art ex- 
pression. And it is for this reason that the contact 
must be increasingly supplied by the schools. We use 
textiles and pottery, we hear music and see pictures, 
we develop taste in architecture and in house furnish- 
ing and in motor-cars, but we know very little about 
how these things come to be what they are, or as they 
are—and that means that we either accept without 
discrimination, or that we receive our standards ready 
made. But the result of this situation is that we have 
all about us altogether more ugliness than is good 
for us. 
When we undertake to cultivate the arts for our THE ARTS IN THE LIFE OF THE CHILD 
201 
children, outside of the school, the most important con- 
sideration in the selection of instructors is commonly 
considered to be the artistic achievement or the stand- 
ing in his craft. But more important for our purpose 
is the teacher’s character, his attitude toward children. 
We may indeed find a talented artist who is also a sat- 
isfactory teacher; but the combination is extremely 
rare. The accomplished artist is likely to see in the 
pupil a potential performer or creator, and to have 
little patience when the symptoms of talent are slow 
to manifest themselves. When talent is discovered it 
will be time enough to train for specialization. 
Whether we provide special instruction for children 
or not, we can at least put forth an effort to make the 
surroundings in the home contribute as much as possi- 
ble to the cultivation of taste. This requires an effort, 
but is worth what it costs. Unless we have well de- 
veloped tastes and standards ourselves, we are very 
easily imposed upon by the “ fashions ” and by the 
tendency to imitate, often unconsciously, those for 
whom we have some regard. If we devote some thought 
to the children’s dress and to the way our rooms are 
furnished, we shall be carrying on an education in art. 
This does not mean that we must buy only the expen- 
sive or the fashionable. It means taking the trouble 
to find out what is best. It is possible to get cheap 
reproductions of the best pictures, just as we can get 
cheap editions of the world’s best books. In the mat- 
ter of pictures, it is well to have before the child only 
a few at a time, and to change them at intervals. For 
this purpose, frames with removable backs may be used, 202 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
or a screen made of burlap stretched on a wooden 
frame. Let us remember that the younger children 
are likely to see very little in a black and white picture 
until after colored pictures have made them familiar 
with seeing the world in a flat surface. 
We must do what we can to expand the child’s hori- 
zon by visits to the museums, by providing opportuni- 
ties to see and to hear the best that the human spirit 
has brought forth. But we must not overlook the fact 
that the most continuous and the most impressive 
molders of his tastes lie in the immediate surround- 
ings—his clothes and his furniture, his books and his 
conversation, and his opportunities to express himself 
through his own activities. 
When we set out with the idea of elevating the taste 
of our surroundings, we must be on our guard against 
assuming that the task may some day be completed. 
We shall need to adjust the child’s surroundings to 
his level of appreciation, and to advance it constantly 
as this develops. Moreover, there is no best in an ab- 
solute sense. We must consider not only the child’s 
development, but his individuality and peculiarities. KEEPING PETS 
Children of today have many advantages that grow 
directly out of the searchings of the scientific spirit of 
the age. Their health is guarded as never before, and 
the details of their diet are calculated to fractions of 
an ounce. Their schooling is much more efficient and 
even their play has been improved through scientific 
investigation. 
But the same scientific spirit has deprived the mod- 
ern child of certain elements that were of great signifi- 
cance in development and training. It has taken from 
the home the many processes related to the preparation 
of food and clothing, and with them certain educative 
influences that the schools have scarcely learned to 
compensate. Most important of all, our modern home 
has had taken from it that intimacy with lower animals 
which formerly contributed so much to the informal 
education of children. 
Girls and boys used to grow up with a knowledge 
about the ordinary life processes that the child of 
today seems hardly to suspect. To be sure, they gath- 
ered also a great deal of superstition and false tradi- 
tion ; but they did really know something fundamen- 
tally sound about horses and cats and dogs and chickens. 
The domestic animals taught the children about life, 
even where there was no chance to get close to the 
wood folks. Where the children had to help in the 
203 204 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
care of animals, they learned responsibility that knew 
no compromise with convenience or the weather. 
Everything else in life can wait, perhaps, but never the 
regular feeding and watering of the animals. 
The children learned the close relations that exist 
between the physical conditions and the health and wel- 
fare of the animals, so that careful measurement of 
feed, and the protection of the animals against over- 
work or against unfavorable weather furnished a basis 
for standards of conduct in relation to living things. 
In spite of defective understanding, there was devel- 
oped what we might call sound sentiment in the treat- 
ment of the dumb creatures. 
Now it ought to be possible for most children to get 
the benefits that may be derived from association with 
the lower animals. Even in large cities, where there 
are serious objections to the keeping of dogs and cats, 
nearly every home could manage to keep a few live 
fish in a jar of water, or a bird in a cage. Guinea 
pigs or pet mice occupy little space, and that is some- 
thing to consider in a small city flat. 
The keeping of live pets in the house will, of course, 
give the child an opportunity to learn a great deal 
about the ways of the animals. This may not be very 
valuable in itself, but it is valuable as a stimulus to 
thought. Theodore asked more questions per hour for 
the two weeks after he got his pair of guinea pigs than 
he had asked at any time before—or than he was likely 
ever to ask again. The interest aroused could not be 
equaled by any mechanical contrivance that the shops 
may offer. KEEPING PETS 
205 
Very few enlightened parents today doubt the wis- 
dom of giving children instruction about sex and re- 
production. And it is quite generally recognized that 
such instruction should, so far as possible, be imparted 
by the parents themselves. This is important, first, 
because the child’s questions should be answered when 
he is still too young to go to others for information. 
In the second place, it furnishes the basis for a rela- 
tion of intimacy and confidence between the parent and 
child that hardly anything else can supply. At the 
same time we realize how few are the opportunities, 
and how rare the natural approach to the subject. 
This difficulty is well met by the presence in the home 
or about the premises of some lower animals Avith their 
broods. 
But more important than any intellectual gain is the 
probable effect on the child’s character and sentiments. 
To have the care of the animals, and to realize what 
depends upon the regular performance of his share of 
the daily routine, will furnish a most effective lesson 
in the bearing of responsibility. 
The effect of Helen’s neglecting to put her toys or 
her clothes away in their proper places, was some arbi- 
trary punishment. But the effect of Helen’s neglecting 
to clean the aquarium for two or three days was the 
death of one of the pretty goldfish. And nothing more 
impressive had e\rer happened to Helen before. She 
had learned to love the animals, and there Avas no 
escape from the responsibility for the loss. It was too 
bad to sacrifice the goldfish, but the lesson to Helen 
was probably worth several little fish. At any rate, 206 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
she never again neglected the creatures in her charge. 
But the impressiveness of the lessen was due in large 
measure to the fact that the child did love the fish. 
And it is this affection that the child can have for his 
pets that is the most valuable feature, from the educa- 
tional side. It is this that makes the child learn the 
meaning of devotion and sacrifice and service. But it 
is for this reason also that a pet should never be 
forced upon a child. As Mrs. Comstock says in her 
The Pet Book: “If the child tires of a pet, it should 
be given to someone else, or chloroformed. It is a 
cruel act to make a pet dependent upon a careless or 
unloving master, and it teaches a child cruelty and 
hardness of heart to be obliged to give unloving care.” 
Most children quickly learn to love pet animals of 
almost any kind. We should consult the preferences 
of the children, and we should guard against selecting 
an animal that is likely to be a burden to his human 
companion. Of course the conditions of the home must 
be considered in selecting the fellow-inmates. In the 
country, or even in the suburbs, it is possible to select 
from a much wider range of animal life. But there is 
sufficient choice in the world of life to meet the condi- 
tions in all but the humblest of city homes. 
For learning about animals, the museums and the 
zoological gardens are no doubt excellent contrivances. 
But for learning responsibility and devotion, each child 
should have a pet he can love. APPRECIATION OF EFFORT 
The child works in the spirit of the artist. He is 
not seeking material rewards; he wants the satisfaction 
of doing something that has meaning, and he wants 
appreciation. Without these he will become either a 
shirker, shunning all effort, or a perfunctory grind, 
laboring under compulsion of one kind or another. It 
is therefore necessary not only that opportunities be 
furnished for doing various kinds of work, but that the 
first awkward attempts be appreciated in a way that 
will lead to further effort. And this is just as true of 
attempts at singing or invention—invention of a song 
or story, for example—as it is of attempts at making 
some object or drawing that others may handle or 
exhibit. 
In a kindergarten, one day, each child stepped for- 
ward as his name was called, and received from the 
kindergartner the result of his efforts at “ making 
something ” for some member of the home. The 
children were gay, and they were anticipating the joy 
of giving. It was a pleasure to watch them. But 
when Genevieve’s name was called, a new note was 
struck. “ Please, Miss White,” she said, “ my mother 
does not want me to bother her any more with the 
things I make.” And Miss White laid Genevieve’s 
calendar aside. 
It is not difficult to see the point of view expressed 
207 208 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
in Genevieve’s plaintive abnegation. There is really 
no room for all these things at home—we have all the 
calendars and blotters and picture frames and shaving 
pads that we really need. And as for ornaments, these 
things are not particularly beautiful; and if they are, 
as may sometimes happen, they do not harmonize with 
the scheme of things already installed. Besides, they 
gather dust, and there are few homes that have not 
already too many dust catchers. We can well under- 
stand that. Genevieve’s mother was weary of calendars 
and book-marks. 
But Miss White is also weary of calendars and book- 
marks. Where one mother has had half a dozen, she 
has had hundreds. She manages to smile, however, in 
spite of the clutter and in spite of the obvious monot- 
ony, through a curious trick of the mind which it 
would be well for Genevieve’s mother and other mothers 
to learn. The trick is this: Instead of dealing with 
calendars and book-marks, she fixes her mind upon the 
efforts of the tots, she sees trial and tribulation, she 
sees wonder and experiment, where the rest of us see 
only crude imitations of tulips or apple-blossoms. 
Notwithstanding the high rentals we have to pay 
nowadays, it ought to be possible for every mother to 
keep each child’s tokens of struggle and conquest, for 
some time at least. For nothing is more important to 
the child than that his meager and unsuccessful at- 
tempts at mastering his material surroundings should 
receive generous encouragement. And while much is 
gained by having someone stand by to spur him on 
when he falters, that is not enough. The product, poor APPRECIATION OF EFFORT 
209 
though it be, is the symbol of his struggle, it is the 
embodiment of an idea, an inspiration, and deserves 
the courtesy of serious and dignified attention from 
parents and other elders. The calendar is as worthy 
of a place on the wall as anything you can buy at the 
store, for by honoring it you teach the child that his 
efforts are not wasted. As for taste in calendars, leave 
that to the years. 
Of course it is not necessary to display all of the 
child’s creations, or to convert the home into an indus- 
trial museum. It is, in fact, the latest trophy that 
carries the greatest interest, and the latest may be made 
to displace its predecessor, each effort thus receiving 
its due share of attention and appreciation. Where 
there are several children, it should be possible to pro- 
vide large paper envelopes, and boxes in which these 
early treasures may be kept. 
Every mother knows that young children can be a 
nuisance, and in the way, just when they are trying 
to help with some “ work.” The number of peas that 
the baby can shell, or the area that the child can sweep, 
will contribute little to lightening the day’s work. But 
the value of the contribution is not to be measured thus. 
It is to be measured in good will, in application, and 
in the satisfaction that comes—or should come—from 
having made a worthy effort at doing something useful. 
We should therefore not belittle the achievement, or 
make the child feel that his assistance is worthless. 
While this doctrine of appreciation does not permit 
us to belittle the child’s efforts, it still leaves us free 
to help him with criticisms calculated to enable him to 210 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
improve his work. We should, however, call attention 
to such defects only as he is in a position to remedy 
himself, and without too much, effort. If the doll’s 
dress is too long, it’s a simple matter to cut it down. 
But if it’s too short, we note that it’s a very nice dress, 
and think we’ll make the next one a little longer. The 
repeated emphasis on the defects of design or execu- 
tion may have the effect of improving the child’s taste 
or judgment; but they are more likely to discourage 
all effort. 
A child that sees too clearly the shortcomings of his 
efforts will refuse to do anything at all. This was the 
case with four-year-old Herbert, whose sense of form 
was so far ahead of his muscular control, that he could 
get no satisfaction out of the paper stars he cut out 
himself, and so refused, after one or two attempts, to 
try again. 
When little Allan’s mother failed to recognize the 
child’s drawing as that of a “ lamp ” she was wise 
enough to take to herself the blame. “ How stupid of 
me! ” For, after all, you can recognize even the lamp 
if you are told what, it is supposed to be. And so the 
burden of keeping keen the edge of effort rests upon 
us. But don’t let the child become conceited. CHILDREN’S PARTIES 
The parties that a child attends do not come with 
such frequency that they are likely to be serious factors 
in the molding of his life habits. Nevertheless, when 
they do come, they ought to be made to count as far 
as possible; and they certainly should be made to inter- 
fere as little as possible with the general scheme of 
things. There is indeed some question whether we have 
not allowed too much sophistication to creep into the 
gatherings of the little people. Most of us have so 
little imagination and so little inventiveness at work, 
that we too easily repeat the satisfying adult experi- 
ences for the benefit of children—for whom they are 
not at all satisfying or satisfactory. 
It is no doubt for this reason that there has been a 
reaction against children’s parties. There are now 
many parents who will not allow their children to take 
part in such functions. They feel that there is too 
much of being entertained, too much of a certain un- 
healthy rivalry for prizes and favors, and too much, 
perhaps, that upsets the stomach. 
But there is a place in life for the happy gathering 
of children on festive occasions. These parties have 
their value not alone for the immediate pleasure that 
the children derive from them, but for the opportunity 
they furnish to try out the social accomplishments and 
resources of the children. But they should be first of 
211 212 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
all children’s parties, and not adults’ parties in minia- 
ture to which children are invited for the amusement 
of the elders, or to be passively entertained. 
The children who are to be the hosts should take an 
active part in the preparations. So far as possible 
they should share in arranging the programme of enter- 
tainment, the decorations, the refreshments. Except 
for very young children, who are naturally dependent 
upon others for everything they get, the success of a 
party should be to a large degree related to the amount 
of thought and effort that the children themselves put 
into it. It is easy enough to hire professional enter- 
tainers and decorators and caterers. The elaborate- 
ness and perfection of the preparations that they make 
for a party are only a measure of how much money 
the host has to spend on the occasion. With children 
the unshared preparations are largely wasted in a 
double sense. There is the wasted opportunity to apply 
thought and effort for others; and there is the likeli- 
hood that the entertained children cannot appreciate 
what is done for them in proportion to the outlay. 
The entertainment should be of a kind that calls for 
the direct participation of as many of the children as 
possible. The younger children require a great deal 
of directing and assistance in their games. But as 
the children grow older, they should be left more and 
more to their own resources, even in the management 
of the games and the selection of leaders. One of the 
most valuable features that can be introduced into a 
children’s party is some form of dramatization. With 
children from about six years up this always has a CHILDREN’S PARTIES 
213 
strong appeal, and gives opportunity for a wide vari- 
ety of ingenuity and inventiveness. It is not necessary 
to select a regular “ play ” for this purpose. Indeed, 
it is better not to do so, but to let the children “ make 
up ” their play. 
This they will readily do with a little encourage- 
ment, and perhaps a few concrete suggestions. It is 
very amusing to see in these improvised plays the direct 
reflections of the familiar fairy tales, or of domestic 
or neighborhood incidents. Thus, at one party, a boy 
of six commandeered his father for participation in 
what the child called “ The Giant and the Soldier.” 
The father had to capture his son and yield to his 
entreaties to spare him; in the second act, the father 
as giant lies entangled in the clothes-line while the 
“ soldier ” with his tin sword liberates him in com- 
pensation for his former kindness. The children will 
agree on a “ plot ” and then carry out their plays with 
impromptu conversation of a most interesting kind. 
They will use the chairs as trees or houses in true 
Shakespearean fashion, and any unattached garment 
will be assimilated into their wardrobe with an ingenu- 
ity that too seldom finds exercise in the ordinary affairs 
of the child’s life. One good thing about this form of 
entertainment is that each performance or “ stunt ” 
stimulates the other children to try their skill, and 
there is then a true exchange of services in entertain- 
ing, instead of letting some do all the giving and others 
all the taking.* 
* Plays for the Home, by Augusta Stevenson, will be very 
helpful and suggestive. 214 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
The conventional assault upon the digestive system 
by means of a superfluity of sweets between meals can 
be avoided by a little planning. By having the party 
come well along in the afternoon, the refreshments 
may be made to conclude the festivities and take the 
place of the children’s supper. They can be made 
sufficiently attractive and interesting, and include the 
indispensable ice cream, to give the true party effect, 
and yet be sufficiently nourishing and filling to make 
another meal quite unnecessary. 
Where the weather and other conditions permit, 
having the party out of doors will add a great deal 
to the freedom and activity of the children. Success- 
ful children’s parties have taken the form of outings 
to the park or to the country. But whether indoors 
or out, the essential thing about a children’s party is 
that the children should do the entertaining as well as 
the enjoying. WORK AND PLAY AS THE MEASURE OF TIME 
“ Losing time ” means nothing to the child until he 
has learned to appreciate time for himself. In this 
the watch as a marker of time units is of great value. 
We appreciate time as the substance of life. To the 
child it means the enjoyment of activities and sensa- 
tions that are marked not only by intensity but also 
by duration. To enjoy the games and the reading 
and the dreaming of dreams is to live. To be able to 
measure the duration of these things, by noting from 
time to time the passing of an hour or two, is to learn 
the value of minutes in terms of how much life the 
minutes can yield. 
As I was leaving the house to meet a dinner engage- 
ment, a neighbor with her little boy came along, the 
mother greatly agitated, and the child only slightly 
perturbed. 
The mother was speaking, “ Now you’ll have to go 
to bed without supper, as you did last night. I will 
not have you coming home so late.” 
And the boy protested, “ I didn’t know it was so 
late. I meant to come early.” 
The next day, when I met my neighbor in a calmer 
mood, she felt that she had to explain the scene of the 
previous evening. She always lets her children go out 
unattended; she expects them thus to learn how to take 
care of themselves and to acquire “ self-reliance.” 
215 216 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
And she punishes them if they come home late; she 
expects them thus to learn to know time, and the value 
of time. 
There is no doubt that in the course of months, or 
of years, these children will learn to come home be- 
times, and to keep engagements, through the method 
pursued by their mother. But I wonder whether the 
same results could not be attained without the irrita- 
tions and ill feeling that this method seemed to bring 
forth. The method of rewards and punishments is the 
most ancient method, and has produced valuable re- 
sults. But it is in many ways crude as well as ancient, 
and it, is certainly not universally the best. 
I asked the mother whether her child had a watch, 
or any other means of knowing the time. “ No,” she 
said, “ he is too careless to have a watch. If he had 
one, I’m sure he would forget to wind it, or he would 
get it out of order in a week.” 
“ Is it fair,” I asked her, “ to expect the child to 
know what time it is, when he has no means for finding 
out? I wonder how many adults, with all their experi- 
ence, would know that it was time to stop, when in the 
midst of some interesting pastime, if they had no out- 
ward sign or warning? ” 
It would seem that the burden of responsibility for 
supplying the information or the means for getting it, 
in a matter of this kind, should be assumed altogether 
by the parent. Where there is no public clock in the 
vicinity of the children’s play, arrangements should 
be made for informing them of the passage of time. 
We should see to it that at least one of the children WORK AND PLAY 
217 
in the group has a watch, for children that are old 
enough to play without supervision are old enough to 
learn how to care for a watch, as well as how to read 
the time. They can also be taught to look at the watch 
from time to time, until they have learned to feel about 
how much play they can accomplish in an hour or in 
half an hour. Watches that are sufficiently reliable 
for all ordinary purposes are cheap enough nowadays, 
so that every child should have the advantages of own- 
ing one. 
For the watch can be made a useful instrument in 
the education of the child. As soon as he is able to 
read time, he can become his own timekeeper, although 
some children learn this much more easily than others. 
Providing some positive means for keeping track of 
the passing minutes is a much more satisfactory way of 
teaching the child, than letting him flounder about and 
then punishing him for his blunders. It is hard to 
imagine the child having any feeling except that of 
galling injustice, on being deprived of his supper for 
doing the most natural thing in the world—that is, 
continuing to play- so long as there is anyone to play 
with. It is very likely that with most children the 
imposition of a penalty in a case of this kind will have 
practically no value toward the acquisition of a “ time 
sense ” since children generally look upon penalties in 
the light of retribution for disobedience, or for infrac- 
tion of laws, but? seldom connect them specifically with 
their shortcomings leading to the misconduct. To the 
analytical adult mind, the purpose suggests the con- 
nection ; but in the child’s mind the connection is absent. 218 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
We are not all equally endowed with the “ time 
sense,” and in some people it is conspicuously lacking. 
But a great deal can be done to cultivate it in the 
home. The most important element in this training 
is a regular daily programme, in which as much as 
possible of the routine finds a fixed point. Through 
this all the members of the household should come to 
a realization of the responsibility of each to observe 
the programme so far as it has to do with the common 
activities of the family. Being late should come to 
mean an infringement upon the time of others. We 
will make allowances for delays, but we should not be 
made to wait unnecessarily. This is the lesson that 
the child should learn first of all in the matter of time 
and appointments. 
Penalties and reproofs may direct the child’s atten- 
tion to the fact that adults attach some significance to 
time. But they will not teach him to evaluate time for 
himself. For this he must have guidance and assistance 
of a positive kind. CULTIVATING HOBBIES 
When a person has completed his share of the world’s 
work, it is considered proper for him to “ retire.” 
And in accordance with this tradition, old Mr. Stewart 
withdrew from active) participation in his business, 
when he knew that he had enough money and when 
his family thought that he “ needed a rest.” After a 
few weeks of “ resting,” the old gentleman became very 
uneasy and unhappy. He wanted to visit the office, 
but this was strictly forbidden, and as he could not 
think of anything else to do, he moped around, ex- 
tending his own misery to those about him. Cases of 
this kind are common enough, and in a large propor- 
tion of them, the man does return to his old affairs, 
there to remain to the end. But in other cases, there 
is too much opposition from those who look upon work 
as a hardship, and the old man withers away. 
Many a business man, before reaching this stage, 
is merely tired. But why should the business man be 
more tired than other people? He does not work any 
harder than the professional man or the artisan. And 
the others are probably doing their share of worrying. 
It is very likely that the person who is always repre- 
sented to us in the comic papers and in the theater as 
being in need of entertainment that calls for no exer- 
tion whatever on his part, is tired because he does not 
do enough. That is to say, he does not do enough 
219 220 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
different kinds of things. The tired business man 
suffers from all the evil consequences of early special- 
ization. We may be sorry for him; but it is difficult 
to remedy his condition. What we can do is to prevent 
our children acquiring this same malady. 
We may find the preventive in the lives of men and 
women who never grow old. The essential difference 
between one of these people, or a healthy child, and a 
“ tired business man ” lies in the wide range of prob- 
lems and activities that can interest the former, as 
against the narrow interests and sympathies of the 
latter. It should be part of our aim in the training 
of children, to keep open for them all the lines of com- 
munication with ideas and feelings that may come to 
them. 
But this is not a passive affair. Ideas and feelings 
do not come to us because we sit still. The child must 
learn to go forth and meet the new experience a little 
more than half way. We must cultivate the attitude 
which seeks satisfaction in doing, in overcoming diffi- 
culties, in solving problems. We must discourage con- 
tentment with passive comfort, always receiving and 
never giving, with “ letting well enough alone.” This 
will mean retaining the versatility and the aggressive- 
ness of youth as long as possible. 
In practice we shall frequently be annoyed by the 
intensity with which the girl or boy will pursue a 
hobby. We realize only too well the folly of setting 
the heart too firmly upon this or that. But the child 
is, in these things, often wiser than his elders. For 
whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing with all CULTIVATING HOBBIES 
221 
the energy and enthusiasm that can be mustered. Nor 
must we determine for the child what is worth doing. 
We have learned the folly of air-rifles or of reading 
all the writings of a favorite author, not by suffering 
any injury from these interests, but by finding things 
that were better worth while. And the children need 
not take our preference for etchings or first editions 
as indicating absolute values. At every stage the child 
should be encouraged to pursue his hobby as intensively 
as time and chance permit. Some hobbies will last but 
a short time; others may last into the riper years. 
But in any case these represent interests that carry 
with them motives for application and effort and sacri- 
fice, and they carry with them stimulation and recrea- 
tion that are nowhere else to be found. 
The selection of a hobby, like the selection of an 
occupation or a spouse, must always be left to the 
person most concerned. You may give your children 
a certain bias, however, that will have a value propor- 
tioned to your judgment and insight, As it is legiti- 
mate to have a prejudice against your son’s becoming 
a bartender, or your daughter’s marrying a gambler, 
so you may tolerate certain types of hobbies and dis- 
courage others. But these influences should not rest 
on our own tastes; there are more fundamental consid- 
erations. Thus, you and I are fond of going to the 
theater, but it is better for Louise to cultivate amateur 
theatricals than a fascination for a popular actress. 
It is better for Harold to play baseball until sunset 
than to become a baseball “ fan.” Again, it is for the 
child to determine whether he will make a study of 222 
THE CHILD’S ACTIVITIES 
medieval armor, or of orchids, whether she will conduct 
a propaganda for the protection of the native birds, 
or for clean streets. 
Parents should realize the advantage of a hobby that 
calls for some kind of activity, over one that involves 
being entertained or amused. In the same way, a 
hobby that means doing something is more valuable 
than a collecting hobby, which means having some- 
thing, although this is better than no hobby at all. 
On the physiological side, entertaining a wide range 
of interests means keeping a large part of the brain 
surface in action. Specialization of interests, in the 
narrowing sense, means allowing a large part of the 
brain to remain unused, and thus to be a possible source 
of ill health. 
Boys and girls who are encouraged to look upon, as 
legitimate, all appeals to curiosity, to inventiveness, 
to the impulse to do and to make, will not be likely to 
fall into old Mr. Stewart’s plight, when they are some 
day kindly relieved of their regular occupations. JUSTICE AND THE CHILD BEING GOOD AND BEING BAD 
It is still quite common for people to look upon 
children as embodiments of one or the other of the two 
conflicting spirits of right and wrong. Too many of 
us think that every child is either an angel or a devil, 
and that our chief concern in life is to adore the 
children of the first class and to suppress those of the 
second. 
Every day your child is likely to do something that 
annoys you, something that you do not wish to have 
him do, something that it were better that he did not 
do. But it is very seldom indeed that the child does 
anything that is really wicked. Yet you are tempted 
to characterize the annoying acts as “ bad,” or even 
to call the child “ bad ” for performing them. 
In the same way the child does many things that 
please you—plays for an hour, sometimes, without 
causing a disturbance; or fetches what you ask for 
without protest or complaint. And then the tempta- 
tion to call him “ good ” is very strong. 
It is no doubt very largely through the approval or 
disapproval of elders that the child comes to form 
desirable habits of conduct, or to avoid habits of a 
different kind. And it is doubtlessly through such 
approval and disapproval that the child comes to form 
his ideas of right and wrong. But there is a real 
danger in our indiscriminate distribution of adjectives 
225 226 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
of commendation or condemnation in the course of 
the day’s work. 
One thing that modern studies in child nature have 
taught us is that young children are neither virtuous 
nor wicked, they are not moral and they are not 
“ immoral.” They do many things that are quite ac- 
ceptable to older people, or even pleasing. They do 
many other things that are decidedly objectionable. 
They do still more that are quite indifferent. But 
whatever they do is, at least at first, without any moral 
significance. 
When a young child is in good health and has found 
something interesting to do, he will be happy and cheer- 
ful—so long as he is undisturbed. If the mother has 
been particularly anxious to be undisturbed herself, 
she will appreciate how helpful Willie was in sticking 
to his own affairs the whole morning. But by telling 
him that he has been a “ good ” boy and perhaps re- 
warding his virtue with a piece of candy or a banana, 
what will be the effect upon the child? It is well to 
concentrate one’s attention on the task before him— 
whether it is work or play; but Willie will hardly dis- 
cover that he is being praised for the virtue of concen- 
tration. He is more likely to associate playing trains 
or building castles and having a good time with the 
reward of virtue. 
On the other hand, when the child does the annoying 
or even the forbidden thing, what is the effect of calling 
him “ bad ” ? “ Bad ” is likely to acquire the meaning 
“ doing-what-you-like-to-do.” And when the child is 
restless, whether it is because he has not found some- BEING GOOD AND BEING BAD 
227 
thing interesting to occupy him, or whether it is be- 
cause his liver is out of order, he is likely enough to 
get into mischief. Now in most cases the motives or 
purposes of the child are just as unconscious and just 
as innocent of evil intent when he is doing something 
you dislike, as when he is doing something you approve. 
Our classification of his acts into good and bad has 
meaning to us in relation to their effects upon our own 
comfort; but it has no meaning whatever to the child 
in relation to his own will. 
It is for this reason that the quiet, unobtrusive 
child, lacking often enough in vigor and initiative, may 
become the intolerable prig without a trace of healthy 
purpose, of self-directed achievement. Such a child 
comes to consider himself “ good ” because he has been 
praised for doing nothing in particular, or for being 
docile and amenable to the direction of other people’s 
wishes. 
And it is for this reason too that a child of energetic 
curiosity, a child with many and varied interests and 
purposes, becomes bewildered in the moral chaos that 
condemns him for awkwardness in carrying out per- 
fectly legitimate and essentially good undertakings. 
To explore and investigate are not in themselves bad. 
It is unfortunate that you had something in the attic 
that you did not wish Robert to see. It is unfortunate 
that the glass slipped out of Jenny’s hand when she 
was trying to repeat a “ trick ” that she had seen in 
a newspaper picture. But it is not wicked to explore 
attics; it is not wicked to experiment with glass tum- 
blers or dinner plates. 228 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
Donald and Louise, cousins several times removed, 
were becoming acquainted for the first time, Donald 
visiting the city with his mother. They were getting 
along beautifully, Louise’s mother observed. They 
were playing railroad with the chairs and hassocks. 
“ Don’t move that! ” shouted Donald, “ you’ll get 
right in front of the train.” Louise continued to push 
the chair against which she was leaning. “ Don’t do 
that,” repeated Donald, with a little more warmth. 
The chair moved over about half a yard. Bang! 
Louise rolled over as if struck by an automobile. She 
was struck by Donald. 
Up jumped the mothers. “ You naughty boy! ” 
came from both, as though they had rehearsed for the 
chorus. Louise did not make a demonstration of severe 
suffering, so they were able to give all of their atten- 
tion to the naughty boy. “ Who would ever have 
thought it of him? ” asked the girl’s mother, not ex- 
pecting anyone to answer her. And Donald really did 
not look very vicious, with his pale hair and eyes, and 
soft voice and shrinking manner. Certainly his mother 
had never thought him capable of so violent and so 
ungallant a deed. 
But there could be no mistake; he had pushed Louise 
over very roughly, very unkindly, almost cruelly. And 
Louise, standing by her mother’s side, a picture of 
injured innocence, was absorbing the warm sympathy 
of the elders and gloating in the discomfiture of the 
naughty boy. Her mother already knew how angelic 
she was; and now Donald’s mother was finding out. 
Donald’s mother had always supposed that her child BEING GOOD AND BEING BAD 
229 
was an angel, too, and she could not understand what 
had happened to change him. A vestige of primitive 
superstition popped into her head, and she reflected 
that having been “ too good ” for so long, he was 
about to even things up by giving the devil the upper 
hand for a while. Louise’s mother did not need to 
wonder at all. She knew that her child was one of the 
angelic kind; and now she saw that Donald was one of 
the other kind. 
The fact is that Donald was just as angelic as 
Louise, and just as angelic as he had ever been. Louise 
explained that she had only moved the chair, yet 
Donald had not only told her—at least twice—not to 
do so, but he had very good reason on his side. “She 
put that pile of wood right in front of where the train 
was coming, and it would have been wrecked, and all 
the people killed.” Any boy who would hesitate to use 
violence in such an emergency is not quite enough of 
a boy for the practical affairs of life. 
When all the facts in the case are considered, one is 
tempted to suspect that Louise was actuated by the 
imp of perversity and that Donald was moved by a 
finer spirit. However, his conduct was unbecoming a 
gentleman, and Louise had only moved the chair. 
In the judgments we pass upon the conduct of 
children, the problem is always to separate the formal 
side of every act from the fundamental movements of 
thought and feeling that go on beneath the surface 
and determine the activities almost, if not quite, auto- 
matically. 
Much of the young child’s conduct is imitative. 230 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
When a boy goes through the motions of lighting a 
pipe and puffing clouds of smoke toward the ceiling, 
you must not believe that he has begun his descent to 
perdition, no matter what you think of smoking in 
general, or of your curtains in particular. On the 
other hand, when a little girl begs for pennies to give 
to the blind beggar or to the grind-organ man, you 
have no warrant for assuming that she is a natural 
born philanthropist, no matter what your views are on 
charity. 
Much of the young child’s conduct results from 
purely instinctive impulses. So every child will lie 
under suitable provocation, without thereby indicating 
a streak of untruthfulness; or Louise may do just 
what she is told not to do without yielding altogether 
to the demon of unrighteousness. 
The child who gets into trouble because he does not 
know what to do with himself, is perhaps aware that 
things are not just right with him. But he certainly 
does not know what ails him, or how to remedy the 
situation. It is distinctly the duty of the parent (or 
of the person who has charge of the child) to diagnose 
the source of the “ badness ” to provide a remedy. 
In the same way when the improper conduct is due to 
physical discomfort, the child cannot be expected to 
discover the cause of the irritation. We must make 
sure that the child is in good health, and that he is 
provided with an opportunity to do interesting things 
that are worth while. 
If the children under these circumstances behave 
themselves acceptably we must take their conduct as BEING GOOD AND BEING BAD 
231 
a matter of course and not praise them for what they 
cannot help, any more than we may blame them for 
what they cannot help. We may urge them to greater 
exertion, or we may caution them to be more careful; 
but good and bad are not the qualities of their ordinary 
everyday acts, no matter how pleasing or displeasing 
the consequences may be to our feelings, or how disas- 
trous they may be. 
A mother once asked me, “ Do you believe in the 
spiritual interpretation of child nature, or in the scien- 
tific interpretation? ” This question assumes that 
there is a conflict between scientific truth and spiritual 
truth. It is a mistake to think that assuming 
“ spiritual ” qualities that are not there is a spiritual 
explanation of children’s conduct. The scientists have 
shown that the ability to choose one’s actions, and the 
consciousness of purpose and of consequences, develop 
very slowly in the child’s mind. Until there is con- 
sciousness of right and wrong, and until the child is 
quite able to choose what he does and what he does not 
do, it is useless to speak of the moral quality of his 
acts, no matter what their actual consequences may be, 
or how they harmonize with our notion of what ought 
to be done. 
In ascribing goodness or badness to the doings that 
have not in themselves any moral qualities, we are not 
only confusing the child in his own searchings for the 
right and wrong; we are also defeating the larger pur- 
pose of every parent by disarming ourselves against 
the day when something is done that really is good or 
bad—something that calls for a definite stand, for JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
232 
unequivocal condemnation or enthusiastic approval. 
In acquiring the habit of classifying every act that 
pleases or displeases us through its consequences as 
good or bad, we are in the further danger of transfer- 
ring these qualities to the child. Now we do not wish 
the young child to get the notion that he is bad, for 
it is a short step in human logic from being bad to 
being irresponsible. Once assure the child that he is 
bad, and he will be certain that there is no use trying. 
But a moral snob, content with his own “ goodness,” 
is no less undesirable. 
To say that a child’s conduct is unmoral does not 
take from him the possibility of spiritual development. 
On the contrary, the assumption that the child is a 
moral being would seem to leave nothing for growth. 
The sense of righteousness and the feeling of guilt are 
not born in the child; they have to be achieved through 
trial and suffering. 
We must reserve our praise and blame for conduct 
that involves good will or purposefulness. We may 
admire skill in action or soundness of judgment, but 
we must not condemn instincts, however much we may 
wish to modify their manifestations. ENCOURAGEMENT AND NEGLECT 
A new baby is always interesting, and usually re- 
ceives attention out of all proportion to bis needs, and 
also out of all proportion to his special merits. Still, 
he may escape without receiving any real injury from 
the eyes and hands of doting friends and relatives. But 
when the child gets to the “ cunning ” age, it is dif- 
ferent, especially if he happens to be one of the “ ir- 
resistible ” kind. For then the child must receive all 
kinds of sense stimulations, and opportunity to exer- 
cise his limbs, thus to acquire control of his muscles. 
But there is no special need for him to become con- 
scious of his own charms. Indeed, the greatest charm 
of childhood, its utter unconsciousness, too quickly 
loses its bloom just because we find the cunning tricks 
and the awkward speech so irresistible. 
A mother of three children was comparing notes 
with a mother of four. The former observed that her 
youngest had reached the point where she would call 
mother and nurse and the older children to witness 
everything she was doing. At first this was looked 
upon as just a cunning little trick; then it became a 
nuisance. Finally the mother began to have misgiv- 
ings. Perhaps, she had thought, the child is getting 
too much notice? What had happened was that the 
child, having derived much satisfaction from the ap- 
proving smiles and admiring remarks of the elders, 
233 JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
had acquired the habit of depending upon these mani- 
festations of affectionate regard for her own comfort 
and happiness. The mother feared that perhaps the 
child was becoming too conceited. The other mother 
had had a similar experience; but she thought that it 
was only the youngest child who passed through this 
stage. The youngest receives attention from the 
adults, as did the older children; but he gets the same 
kind of attention from the older sisters and brothers. 
If the youngest child in the family is “ spoiled ” 
more frequently than any of the others, it is probably 
because of the over-stimulation of his self-regard no 
less than because of the various indulgences showered 
upon him by the other members of the household. He 
suffers for the want of an opportunity to work out 
some of his own problems in his own way. 
When the child gets to be in the neighborhood of 
nine or ten years, when all the cunningness of child- 
hood has worn off, and before the new interests of 
adolescence have made their appearance, he is likely to 
be least attractive. It is now that he reflects most com- 
pletely the manners of the elders, and it has been ob- 
served that these reflections are not always of a most 
agreeable kind. One can therefore understand that 
people are apt to overlook the girl and boy at this 
period. If they are the older children in the family, 
the younger ones take all of our attention. And if 
at this age they are the youngest, the parents are likely 
to have grown somewhat weary; and the novelty has 
worn off. 
Thus it happens that at the very time when the ENCOURAGEMENT AND NEGLECT 
235 
young child can find enough to keep him busy exploring 
the qualities of the objects and materials he finds about 
him, we intrude upon his mind with irrelevant praise 
of his awkward performances, in a manner that, draws 
his attention from the outside world to his own feelings, 
his own likes and dislikes, his own moods. And thus 
it happens that later in life, when the child comes to 
be concerned with questions of mine and thine, when 
he is wondering about relations between man and the 
outside world, when he longs for the power to give 
expression to his uneasy stirrings, we leave him to his 
own resources, we let him flounder about as best he 
can, we allow him to take his disillusionments from 
the hands of unkind strangers and unkind chance. 
When sympathy and encouragement are most needed, 
the supply is apparently exhausted. 
The demand that the youngest makes upon the other 
children must be considered chiefly from its effect upon 
the youngest. Bessie happened to be “ sensible ” and 
accommodating as a child, so that there was no difficulty 
whatever in getting her to make concessions to the 
younger Jeanie. Tearing Bessie’s book was readily for- 
given because Jeanie was so young and did not under- 
stand. Bessie would take a dose of bitter medicine just 
to encourage Jeanie. Bessie stayed home from the picnic 
or the party because Jeanie would cry to be left behind. 
Bessie divided her apple and her cake, because Jeanie 
wanted more after consuming her own. If Bessie suf- 
fered from this excess of sacrifice and “ considerate- 
ness ” it was probably in the direction of becoming 
more and more indifferent to the things that a normal 236 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
child should care about. But the injury to Jeanie 
was the cultivation of the attitude that took for granted 
the satisfaction of every desire and every whim. To 
have allowed Jeanie to cry after Bessie went to her 
party, to have reprimanded her for injuring Bessie’s 
property, to have left her without more cake after her 
own was eaten, would have helped her more than the 
indulgences she received. 
A household consisting of adults and children of 
various ages is a complex establishment to manage; and 
it takes thought and tact and insight to allot to each 
what is his due. And in considering what is due to 
children, we must not overlook their share of educa- 
tion—the education which comes through neglect and 
disappointment, as well as that which comes from sym- 
pathy and encouragement. EQUITY AMONG BROTHERS AND SISTERS 
It is bad enough to be the youngest; and it is bad 
enough to be the only boy—or the only girl. But the 
combination of the two handicaps is in many house- 
holds quite insurmountable. 
Father was glancing at the papers while waiting for 
his son to join him for their Sunday morning walk. 
Presently he noticed that he had read more of the 
paper than he had expected to, and looked at his watch. 
The delay was unusually long, and he called to William. 
William’s voice came back, sobbing, “ They won’t dress 
me! ” 
Father did not like that. He went right to the 
children’s quarters to see what it all meant. The oldest 
sister spoke up. She thought that William, aged seven, 
was quite old enough to dress himself, and he wouldn’t 
even try. The silence and the expressions on the faces 
of the other sisters Suggested a conspiracy. This 
would never do. Father pronounced final judgment. 
“ A boy who has three older sisters ought to be able to 
get help when he had to be dressed, and not be neg- 
lected.” William had to be dressed at once, and the 
girls would see to it that the task was accomplished 
with neatness and dispatch. 
To have the opportunity to look after younger 
brothers or sisters is no doubt of great value to any 
girl. And to be obliged to dress William through all 
237 238 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
those years must have been an education for the girls. 
But it is certain that whatever they gained was more 
than counterbalanced by the boy’s loss. And it is also 
certain that the experience and “ discipline ” that the 
girls gained were counterbalanced by the resentment 
and sense of injustice which they developed, as William 
became old enough—at least in their judgment—to 
relieve them of the responsibility. 
William was no less a victim of circumstances than 
his sisters. It was his fate to be the youngest—and 
the only boy. 
But every child is unique, if not in one way then in 
another. And so every child is likely to derive advan- 
tages from his peculiarities, as well as to be handi- 
capped by them. The older of two brothers was of 
the “ accommodating ” kind. A neighbor said of 
Charles that he “ always gave in before and after.” 
By this she meant that he always did what he could to 
avoid friction in advance and that when any alterca- 
tion arose, he was then ready to make further conces- 
sions and yield. He would not let his preferences stand 
in the way of peace. This trait was so marked that 
whenever trouble did arise, it was quite natural for 
Henry to receive the blame. But later it became pos- 
sible for Charles, in his quiet way, to make trouble, 
in the certainty that Henry would be blamed. 
It is quite proper for us to recognize the fact that 
the children are not alike, and to take the differences 
into consideration in our judgments and in our treat- 
ment of them. But we must not let our classification 
of children stand in the way of substantial justice. BROTHERS AND SISTERS 
239 
It is quite probable that Henry was the trouble-maker 
nine times out of ten; and an understanding of 
Charles’ disposition was very helpful to the parents. 
But each case, as it arises, should be considered on its 
merits, and not on the earlier generalization that Henry 
is usually at fault. 
The action of parents, like all movement in the world, 
is along the line of least resistance. And the general- 
izations we make about our children furnish channels 
that are often helpful, but occasionally dangerous. So 
it happened that Helen, whom everyone knew to be 
noisy and aggressive, often suffered for her reputa- 
tion. One day her mother heard her nervous voice, 
berating Edward, while the children were at the edge 
of the water. She could also see the blade of an oar 
raised menacingly in the air. Of course Helen was 
up to some mischief, and was abusing Edward. The 
mother started for the shore in the interests of peace 
and justice. But when she came near enough she saw 
that the quiet and unobtrusive Edward was the real 
aggressor. He held out his foot to indicate where 
Helen was to land her boat; and as the boat did not 
strike exactly in the indicated spot, he would shove 
it out again. This he repeated several times, until 
Helen was exasperated beyond self-control. The 
mother admitted later that had she not seen the per- 
formance herself, she would have considered Helen re- 
sponsible for the friction, without regard to the girl’s 
pleas in extenuation. 
In the distribution of the tasks and responsibilities 
of a household among the children, there will neces- JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
sarily be inequalities, on account of differences in age 
and strength, and also on account of divergent inter- 
ests. Some children are more obliging than others, 
and at one stage the child is more eager to go on 
errands than he will be later. It is perfectly legitimate 
to allow such inequalities. But we must not let the 
less obliging child take advantage of the more helpful 
brother or sister; he needs to do his share of the work 
even more than the work needs to be done. Nor must 
we allow him to evade his tasks through subterfuge, or 
through persistent refusals. Let George do it, if he 
will, for he likes it and it is worth his while. But do 
not let the others defraud themselves by leaving too 
much to George. 
The education of the child in ideals of equity must 
come in large measure from the give and take of his 
relations with other children, whether in the home or 
outside. But this must be supplemented with the per- 
vasive influence of sympathetic, yet detached judgment 
of older persons. THE PARENT AS ARBITER 
Whenever anything goes wrong with the children, 
the parent is usually tempted to apply some punish- 
ment in proportion to the damage done to the feelings, 
or in proportion to the damage done to the materials 
with which the child comes in contact. But since the 
parent is in most cases jury and judge and executioner 
rolled into one, it is well to delay execution until sen- 
tence has been carefully pronounced, and to suspend 
judgment, before pronouncing sentence, until all the 
facts have been ascertained. It is well worth while to 
be deliberate in all our dealings with the young people, 
rather than to let our indignation run away with our 
judgment. For, by taking pains to inquire into the 
circumstances of every disagreeable escapade, we im- 
press the children with our efforts at dealing justly 
with them. Even if we do occasionally misjudge a 
deed, as we no doubt shall, the child will come to feel 
that we are trying to be fair. 
Herbert knew no fear. But he had a great deal of 
curiosity. The prospect of a novel experience did not 
make him hesitate. On the contrary, it was an irre- 
sistible temptation. Therefore, when he came into the 
house one sunny summer day with his clothes just drip- 
ping a trail of water, his mother was sure that he had 
ventured into the lake in quest of a new sensation. And 
241 242 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
she was accordingly ready to punish him for doing 
such a foolish thing. 
But Herbert protested that he was not to blame. 
“ They pushed me in,” he kept repeating, “ I didn’t 
go in myself.” “Who pushed you in?” asked the 
mother. “Why, Joe and Stephen did; they pushed 
me ’way into the water from the beach,” Herbert ex- 
plained. 
This looked serious. While the shore sloped |so 
slowly that a child would have to go out a hundred 
yards to get into dangerous depths, pushing children 
into a lake is no joke, and the matter would have to be 
investigated. So mother sent to the neighbors’ houses 
to bring Joseph and Stephen before the bar; and while 
they were coming she changed Herbert’s clothes. 
The boys looked a bit scared. It took some little 
time for them to compose themselves sufficiently to tell 
a connected story. But Joseph, the oldest, finally 
made it clear that they had indeed pushed Herbert 
into the lake, but . . . (for there was a but) Herbert 
had asked them to do it! 
Now of course it was very foolish for them to push 
their companion into the lake—even if he did beg them 
to do it. But as they did not originate the deviltry, 
the mother thought that they needed no more than an 
admonition and a sermonette; and she reserved the 
punishment for Herbert. The mother, having acted as 
jury and discovered the facts, found Herbert guilty. 
She then assumed the role of judge, and condemned 
him to solitary confinement for the rest of the day; he 
was to remain in the house and play without any com- THE PARENT AS ARBITER 
243 
panions. She then proceeded to carry out the sentence 
as chief executioner. 
The following day, Herbert started off on a new 
round of adventures as gaily as ever, but apparently 
chastened. The punishment has had its effects, thought 
his mother. She was therefore greatly shocked, in the 
middle of the afternoon, to see the young gentleman 
come up the drive as thoroughly soaked as a dipping 
in the water could make him. “ Why did you go into 
the lake? ” she asked, before he had time to put in a 
defense. “ They made me do it,” came the answer, 
“ they told me to.” This did indeed seem hard to be- 
lieve, and the mother felt quite certain that there was 
more to be told. She again sent for Joseph and 
Stephen and Eddy; and again she restrained all puni- 
tive proceedings until she could give the culprit a fair 
hearing. 
With the arrival of the accused and the witnesses— 
for the boys were to tell their own story—came also 
an unexpected guest who happened to be passing when 
Herbert took his plunge. Stephen and Joseph ad- 
mitted that they “ told him to go into the lake,” but 
they added that they did not think he would do' it. 
The onlooker, however, testified that the boys had 
urged Herbert on by challenging him to walk into the 
water, until he felt that his self-respect demanded that 
he accept the “ dare.” The boys admitted that they 
had done more than “ tell ” him to get his clothes wet; 
they had really dared him to risk another punishment 
from the parental authorities—perhaps a whipping. 
These disclosures put a different color on the situa- 244 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
tion. The jury found that Herbert had indeed walked 
into the lake foolishly, and had done certain injury to 
his clothes, and had violated the injunction not to go 
bathing except in the bathing suit and at the pre- 
scribed time. But she also found Stephen and Joseph 
guilty (Eddy was too young to get more than the im- 
pressive reflection of the proceedings) of having 
tempted their companion to do what they all knew was 
considered wrong. 
The judge decided that Herbert should be discharged 
with a warning about letting other people make his 
decisions for him; and she remanded the other boys to 
their respective parents for further judgment. 
It is particularly difficult to deal fairly with a child 
when situations are complicated by the presence of 
other children; but then it is especially important that 
we should make the greater effort, for we have to be 
fair to Stephen and Joseph as well as to Herbert. THE CHILD AND DELEGATED AUTHORITY 
If we are to deal effectively with children, whether 
at home or in school, whether at work or at play, we 
ought to understand their attitude toward authority. 
A study of this attitude was made a number of years 
ago, in this country and in England, under the direc- 
tion of Earl Barnes, a pioneer in exploring the souls 
of children through their answers to questions. Large 
numbers of children were asked to write their answers 
to the questions in the following story: 
“ Johnny’s mother was going out, so she told him to 
look after his sister Mamie. After the mother was 
gone, Mamie began to scratch the table; Johnny told 
her to stop, but she went on scratching it. Should 
Johnny have punished her, or should he have waited 
and told his mother?” 
It is interesting to note that although children love 
to exercise authority, most of the children who answered 
the question decided that Johnny should not punish 
Mamie. Of course we should expect the younger 
children in the various groups to allow their sympathy 
with Mamie to color their decisions; the memory of 
abuses suffered at the hands of older brothers and 
sisters would undoubtedly play a role here. But the 
older children, many of whom had been in Johnny’s 
position, also agreed in about four-fifths of the cases 
that punishment should be reserved for the parents. 
245 246 
JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
The reasons that the children give for their decisions 
are even more significant. On the side of punishment 
by Johnny, one girl said “ It would not be right to 
let her do wrong when she was placed in his charge.” 
This means that authority goes necessarily with re- 
sponsibility, and that seemed to be the view of most of 
those who gave any reason for having Johnny inflict 
punishment on his sister. 
But the reasons given by the children on the other 
side are just as significant. One boy wrote, “ I think 
he should have waited and told his mother because his 
mother was boss of them both.” And a girl of the 
same age (fourteen years) wrote, “ It was not right 
for him to punish his sister without his parent’s telling 
him to do so.” These answers imply a certain feeling 
upon the part of the children that the authority dele- 
gated to Johnny was not “ plenary ” but was limited 
perhaps to preventing serious injury to the younger 
child. 
In order to test this further, another group of 
children was asked a similar question, but playing with 
fire was substituted for scratching the table. 
A comparatively small proportion of the children, 
and chiefly among the older ones, can find any means 
for meeting the emergency presented by these hypo- 
thetical cases other than a resort to “ punishment.” 
One boy in a group of forty-two children in England 
thought that it would have been Johnny’s duty to put 
the fire out; about six per cent, of the children sug- 
gested that Johnny should stop Mamie in her lawless 
career and then report to the mother for further action. DELEGATED AUTHORITY 
The last type of solution would seem to be the most 
logical, if we take into consideration both the limits of 
delegated authority and the responsibilities that go 
with it. Those children who would wait and tell mother 
would apparently evade the responsibility with which 
they were charged. On the other hand, those who 
would punish the younger child, would exceed the au- 
thority delegated to them. 
The problem is to get a clear recognition of the 
extent of responsibility and at the same time a realiza- 
tion of the limits of the authority. This the children 
can learn, if we are fairly consistent in our own delega- 
tions of authority. 
The child often feels a conflict of authority between 
the home and the school; yet most younger children 
have the feeling that the parent is the ultimate source 
of authority, and would follow the home orders where 
these come in conflict with school orders. As the 
children grow older they come to recognize that there 
are special fields in which the teacher is supreme and 
others in which the parents are supreme. They are 
then likely to be seriously distressed if they receive 
orders from home with regards to books or other school 
matters that are not in harmony with the school regu- 
lations ; or if they receive directions from teachers with 
respect to dress, food, sleep, or other matters that are 
supposed to be the exclusive concern of the home. By 
recognizing this feeling of specialized authority, we 
shall be able to avoid friction. 
Another source of difficulty in the matter of author- 
ity arises in connection with the hasty conduct of JUSTICE AND THE CHILD 
nurses or governesses. A person placed in charge of a 
child acts upon the authority of the parent, not upon 
her own authority. In this position she has the respon- 
sibility for guarding the child against injury and 
against gross violations of the recognized proprieties. 
She is not authorized, however, to chastise the child 
for any misconduct; the responsibility and the author- 
ity for punishment rest with the parent. 
The position of an elder brother or sister, or of a 
nurse, in relation to the discipline of a younger child, 
is very much like that of the police. Force must be 
used only where necessary, and only to the extent of 
preventing serious damage. When it comes to passing 
judgment and executing judgment for wrong done, the 
responsibility goes back to the parent. The police 
must arrest or stop wrongdoing; the judge and execu- 
tioner must be given the case to deal with as seems best. 
In delegating authority to other members of the 
household, whether children or hired helpers, we must 
be sure also to support these in the exercise of their 
authority. If it is a rule, for example, that Johnny 
is not to “ punish ” Mamie for impudence or disobedi- 
ence, we must follow up his complaints consistently 
and justly. Mamie is not to be allowed to take advan- 
tage of Johnny, or of her nurse. Every complaint 
fegainst her should be treated as though the offense had 
been committed in the presence of her parents. Thus 
can delegated authority be made effective without the 
danger of misuse. THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN THE “NATURAL” METHOD IN PUNISHMENT 
A professor in a Southern city, who is evidently 
not a specialist on children, writes to an “ efficiency 
expert ” for information on the “ scientific method of 
punishing a child for misdemeanors, such as theft, false- 
hood, and disobedience.” He asks rather pathetically, 
“ Is there no sane_ middle course between the old-fash- 
ioned whipping and the new-fangled spineless idea of 
non-punishment that makes the typical American child 
either a mollycoddle or a bully, according to tempera- 
ment ? ” 
The expert replies by laying down a principle: 
“ The right way to correct a child is by the automatic, 
reflex method of nature. Every violation of natural 
law carries with it a natural penalty, which through 
pain, disgust, or deprivation teaches the wrongdoer 
not to repeat his mistake. . . . Each parental rule 
should be based on some natural law, and the natural 
penalty for transgression should be discovered and 
applied.” 
Now there is just enough truth in this reply to make 
it sound right; and there is just enough error in it to 
make it misleading or dangerous. It is true that the 
child learns from his mistakes that every unpleasant 
experience teaches the lesson “ don’t do that again.” 
This is a “ natural law ” and the application consists 
of establishing unpleasant associations between the 
251  THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
actions we disapprove and certain consequences. This 
is the obverse of the principle of “ rewards,” namely, 
establishing pleasant associations with the approved 
acts. 
But the fallacy in the alleged principle is brought 
out by the expert’s own illustration of how he would 
apply it. He asks us to suppose that a boy, having 
been told not to eat between meals, disobeys the paren- 
tal injunction and is seized with an attack of cramps. 
The way to enforce obedience, says the expert, is “ not 
by administering pain-killer inside and a switch out- 
side—the usual, inefficient method,” but by allowing 
the transgressor to suffer the “ natural consequences ” 
of his misdeed, with frequent reminders that he is get- 
ting what he deserves for his disobedience. He recom- 
mends also a harmless bitter “ medicine ” to add to 
the child’s disgust, in order to “ intensify nature’s 
method of discipline.” “No coddling, no chastising, 
but the immediate linking of cause and effect in the 
mind of the child, and the natural revulsion from a 
deed that produces physical or mental pain; this de- 
scribes in brief the efficiency plan of juvenile correc- 
tion.” 
To every experienced mother two thoughts will in- 
stantly occur. Suppose the lad disobeys and gets 
away without any cramp—having fortunately a tough 
digestive system? And suppose, as sometimes happens, 
that a child of the angelic, obedient kind gets a violent 
cramp? One is tempted to ask whether the expert 
knows any children, and whether he has tried out the 
methods he recommends. It would take a child of an “NATURAL” METHOD IN PUNISHMENT 
253 
unusually docile and flabby mind to accept the doc- 
trine that the pain was the consequence of disobedi- 
ence, and a child as soft as that is really no problem 
at all. If we are concerned, in the supposed case, with 
teaching the child to refrain from food between meals, 
we should see to it that he has plenty of whole- 
some food, and that the meals come with sufficient 
frequency. We should see to it that he is spared the 
temptation to eat when he should not eat, and we 
should cultivate in him an effective faith in our judg- 
ment as to the best time for eating. But if we are 
concerned with making the child obey, the proposed 
method will be equally ineffective—or “ inefficient ” 
if you like. For the only lesson that a normal boy can 
get from the association between disobedience and 
“ punishment ” is the lesson to avoid getting caught. 
If we extend the principle of natural penalties a 
little farther, we may see its futility or even its vicious- 
ness. The child who disobeys the order not to cross 
the crowded street alone meets the “ natural ” conse- 
quence of a direct physical altercation with an auto- 
mobile. Undoubtedly the lesson is well learned; but 
it is much more expensive than it need have been. The 
boys who swim out beyond their depth have a variety 
of opportunities to “ learn.” If one of them loses his 
head and drowns, he has but reaped the natural reward 
of disobedience. If another loses his head but is saved 
by a strong companion, he is thoroughly scared, and 
also learns a valuable lesson. If the third, in the face 
of danger, musters all his moral forces and calmly floats 
until rescued, he has learned the best lesson of all. 254 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
Does it follow therefore that we should give our orders 
and let the children obey or not, trusting to the “ nat- 
ural consequences ” to teach them wisdom? 
We must steadily and consistently establish mental 
connections and habits that will yield the kind of con- 
duct that we desire in our children; and the habits 
are much more important than the mental connections, 
for these always challenge the ingenuity of youth for 
a way of escape. But we cannot depend upon the 
“ natural penalties,” for they lack the very thing that 
makes human training so remarkable—that is, the 
quality of discrimination. We must use all of our 
knowledge and all of our resources in applying “ nat- 
ural law ” in the treatment of our children; but it is 
not so much the laws of natural consequences of fall- 
ing out of windows or of eating between meals that 
concern us, as the laws of the child’s thinking and feel- 
ing, the laws of the natural consequences of ideas and 
experiences upon the child’s character. 
The “ efficiency ” man is right when he says that we 
should concern ourselves more with correction and dis- 
cipline than with punishment; and we must be sure 
that the distinction we make is more than verbal. There 
is a sane course that avoids the brutal and undiscrim- 
inating whip as well as the other extreme of letting 
“ nature take her course,” and that sane course is de- 
cidedly not to depend upon “ natural penalties.” 
The fact is that there can be no fixed rules for the 
discipline of children. Every offense is a new situa- 
tion, every child presents a peculiar combination of 
problems. Our method of correcting will be influenced “NATURAL” METHOD IN PUNISHMENT 
by our attitude towards the child—whether we seek to 
reach him on the level of his own thoughts and feelings, 
or whether we seek to impose our own more or less 
arbitrary scheme of retributive justice. PRINCIPLES OF PUNISHMENT 
The subject of punishment is of perennial interest, 
since all of us seem to have the “ instinct ” to punish, 
and surely no one lacks the temptation to do so. The 
history of methods of punishing children and criminals 
shows a great change in people’s ideas. Our earliest 
ancestors apparently had no hesitation about indulging 
their impulse in this matter. Everything that offended 
or injured one gave occasion for striking back. The 
law of retaliation was applied to all. That is, punish- 
ment was really a “ paying back ” for what one did 
not like. If your child tears a dress or soils the table- 
cloth, you might inflict bodily harm upon him, or 
scold him and make him uncomfortable just in propor- 
tion to the anger that was aroused by his thoughtless 
or mischievous act. You would then be “punishing” 
him in accordance with the methods of the most primi- 
tive savages. 
Later in the evolution of the race, was developed 
the idea of punishment as a means of preventing people 
from wrongdoing. The idea here is that if disagree- 
able consequences follow a given act, that act is not so 
likely to be repeated. When your child stays out too 
late in the afternoon—not realizing in the midst of the 
play that summer days are long, long days—or when 
Henry comes into the house with muddy boots on the 
day when you expect company, you may send him to 
256 PRINCIPLES OF PUNISHMENT 
bed without his supper, or you may withhold the visit 
to the circus to which he had been looking forward for 
so many weeks. You will be establishing an unpleasant 
association with the “ wrong ” act, in the fashion of 
our medieval ancestors, and perhaps the children will 
be more careful about muddy boots and late supper in 
the future. 
But in more modern times an entirely new idea has 
entered the minds of those who have to deal with delin- 
quents and criminals. Instead of paying them for 
their misdeeds (which helped neither the culprit nor 
the rest of us), and instead of inflicting hardships upon 
them (which prevented neither the culprits nor others 
from repeating the offense), we are gradually coming 
around to the plan of treating the wrongdoer in such 
a way that he will be cured of his propensity to act as 
we do not wish him to. When your Susie has cut up a 
sheet to make petticoats for her doll, or when Herbert 
has tried his new saw on the perfectly good kitchen 
chair, you might find some way of providing the one 
with plenty of material for her shears and needle, or 
the other with plenty of lumber for his constructive 
impulses. And you must find a way to convince them 
that other material is better suited for their purposes 
than bed sheets or chairs. In that case you will be 
acting in accordance with modern ideas of treating the 
misdeeds of those who don’t know any better, or of 
those whose impulses are not so well controlled as your 
own. 
Various studies have been made for the purpose of 
obtaining some insight into the children’s own views 258 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
on the subject of punishment. What effect has a 
“punishment” upon their thoughts and feelings? Of 
course it would never do to ask a girl or boy to explain 
these ideas and feelings. We should either obtain no 
results at all, or make the child self-conscious. But 
by asking thousands of children what they would do 
to a child that had committed a specified offense, it 
has been possible to get the children’s point of view in 
a fairly satisfactory manner. These studies showed 
that the younger children generally think of punish- 
ment as a retaliation. When a child of nine or ten 
years, or younger, is deprived of something that he 
likes, or when he is otherwise “ punished,” he is likely 
to think that he is being “ paid ” for whatever wrong 
he had done. The punishment is a retribution, and 
while he may protest at the severity, or resent the in- 
jury to his feelings, he still has a lingering suspicion 
that it “ served him right.” 
From about this age on, the child gradually comes 
to the feeling that parents and others punish him for 
the purpose of “ teaching him a lesson.” It is doubt- 
ful whether this realization does actually reenforce 
the lessons administered through punishment; but it 
is very likely that the child’s attitude is now somewhat 
different from what it was in his earlier years. 
During the adolescent period most normal children 
come to think of wrongdoing in terms of temptation, 
and of punishment as something to help people avoid 
temptation. 
It has been argued from these and similar studies 
that the younger children should be punished by means PRINCIPLES OF PUNISHMENT 
259 
of penalties and privations, because they can under- 
stand the “ logic ” of vengeance and retaliation. And 
that the children from about ten to fifteen should be 
treated in a way that will prevent repetitions of wrong- 
doing, while only the older children can be reasoned 
with. There is, of course, a good deal to be said in 
favor of this view. But when we recognize that in 
addition to their native instincts the children get so 
much by imitation of their surroundings, it would seem 
safe to conclude that the best thing to do is to keep 
before them the highest models of conduct, in punish- 
ment as in other matters. 
There are certain temptations connected with other 
people’s wrongdoings, and especially with children’s 
wrongdoings, that must not be allowed to master us. 
For example, there is the temptation to do something 
violent, or to say something that hurts. The best rule 
in such cases is—Don't! “ Don’t punish when angry,” 
is not altogether the result of modern science. The 
ancients had already gathered wisdom enough to under- 
stand that. 
Another temptation to avoid is that of condemning 
the child in proportion to the damage or seri- 
ousness of his offense. In fact, we are tempted 
to confuse the seriousness of the offense as an 
act with the seriousness of the consequences— 
which is an entirely different matter. Throw- 
ing a ball for fun—even carelessly—is not very serious 
if the ball only strikes a tree and shakes off some leaves. 
But throwing the ball carelessly is no more wicked or 
immoral if the ball happens to break through an ex- 260 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
pensive window and strikes an old lady. We must 
therefore separate the intent or motive of the deed, 
from the consequences; and we must condemn the of- 
fense and not the child. 
Whatever reproach or privation we impose upon a 
child must be clearly connected with the offense. The 
child should always know just exactly why he is being 
punished. Moreover, the punishment should not be so 
long deferred that the child can lose the connection 
between his offense and the punishment. 
Nothing that may be unfavorable to a child’s health, 
such as interference with meals or with sleep, should be 
used as a punishment. Nor should useful work or study 
be discredited by being used as a means of punishment. 
Finally, we must remember that punishment is a 
medicine. There is no one punishment that fits all 
cases or all children. Each case must be studied by 
itself, and the punishment must be made to fit the 
offense and also the offender. BARGAIN COUNTER GOODNESS 
Would you pay your child ten cents a week as a 
reward for doing his school lessons regularly and 
neatly ? 
This question came up at a meeting of mothers when 
one of those present told of her experience with her 
eleven-year-old son. The boy was doing very good 
work in school, but the teacher complained that his 
home studies were not as carefully and as regularly 
prepared as they should have been. The mother spoke 
to the boy; he claimed that he had no time to do what 
the teacher required of him. After school he had to 
practice his music for an hour, and he had to play— 
and he wanted to read. He was very fond of reading 
and read a great deal that had nothing to do with 
school work. 
“ If I give you ten cents a week,” she had asked 
him, “will you do your lessons every day?” 
“ Goody! ” the boy had exclaimed; and he was true 
to his word. In a short time he was at the head of his 
class and no one complained. 
A number of mothers present were delighted with 
this easy way of getting big results. 
But after a little discussion we all had grave doubts 
as to whether the results were really as big as they 
seemed or whether the price was really as low as it 
seemed. 
261 262 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
The first objection that occurs to the mother’s plan 
of buying the child’s attention to his required work, 
is that of motive. It is often necessary to present to 
the child a promise of reward for doing something. 
The argument for rewards seems reasonable enough. 
We know that a child’s character is very largely 
founded on the habits he acquires; we therefore want 
the child to acquire good habits. We know also that 
the young child cannot be expected to do the right 
thing simply because he is told that it is “ right.” 
And we know that unless the child does the “ right ” 
thing again and again and again, he will not acquire 
the desired habits. The problem is therefore one of 
making the child do what you want him to until the 
habits are established. 
Now the child will repeat actions only if they are 
associated with pleasurable feelings. We have seen that 
the child will lie, if he finds that it “ pays ”—and he 
will likewise “ obey ” if he finds that that pays. The 
wrork that is required of the child must therefore be 
so interesting in itself that the child would rather do 
it than leave it undone. Or the results of the work 
must be so satisfying that the child would be quite 
willing to do what is required. Or, finally, the rewrard 
he receives for the work must be sufficiently attractive 
to encourage him to overcome all the disagreeable 
features, or all the difficulties. 
But we must make the reward in keeping with the 
character of the task, and at the same time of a kind 
that raises the child’s outlook to the highest level that 
he is capable of reaching. BARGAIN COUNTER GOODNESS 
263 
With a very young child, the tasks that give the 
parent the most concern are of a kind that can hardly 
be made interesting in themselves. You want the child 
to learn to dress himself, or to undress; you want him 
to put his toys away, or to hold his fork and spoon cor- 
rectly. The person who can make these arts interest- 
ing by playing a game with the child while he is getting 
the habit of handling the materials, will solve the prob- 
lem almost before becoming aware of it. But if you 
cannot make dressing a game, it is perfectly legitimate 
to offer the child the kind of reward that he will ap- 
preciate in return for accomplishing what is at best a 
rather stupid piece of work. 
As soon, however, as the child is able to dress him- 
self without effort, the rewards should be withdrawn. 
This now becomes a regular and necessary part of the 
day’s existence and does not call for commendation 
or other notice. 
As the child becomes older, and as new difficulties 
present themselves, he will again and again need as- 
sistance and encouragement in overcoming obstacles 
and in solving problems. For years it will be neces- 
sary to keep before the child’s mind the thought of 
the pleasure and satisfaction that regularly result 
from doing what is required. But the pleasure and 
satisfaction need not remain what they were to the 
child of three or four. With every advance in the 
child’s mental development it becomes increasingly 
practicable to raise the nature of the reward from the 
lowest material plane—of a cookie or a toy—to the 
higher levels of appreciation. 264 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
When it comes to doing school work, it may be 
assumed that the child is capable of appreciating the 
value of what he is doing. He certainly should not 
be led to suppose that he is studying for the benefit of 
his parents or his teacher. The reward for good work 
ought to be in some way connected with the results of 
the work, or with the satisfaction of achievement, or 
with the pleasure of the work itself. When it is neces- 
sary to offer a boy or girl money or candy for doing 
the work required by the school, there is something 
wrong either with the school or with the home—or 
possibly with both. 
In the particular case discussed, the boy was bright 
enough, for the teacher was entirely satisfied with 
everything except his failure to do the home work 
regularly and carefully. He was able to get a “ pass- 
ing ” mark even without giving home time to his school 
work. Under the circumstances it would seem, that a 
boy like this could certainly be reached on a higher 
plane than that of ten cents a week. He could be 
reached by an appeal to his instinct of workmanship, 
to the sense for completeness or wholeness in a day’s 
work. Or he might have been reached by an appeal 
to his ambition to excel his past records, to show his 
ability to keep up a high standard; or even by an 
appeal to the desire for high marks or the approval 
of the school mentor, his teacher. It might have saved 
something of the dignity of the work if the reward 
had been made more remote. For example, the reward 
could have taken the form of a much desired object 
postponed to the end of the term. BARGAIN COUNTER GOODNESS 
265 
To pay cash for doing that which a child should 
learn to do as a matter of course is an almost certain 
way of debasing his standard of values. A child should 
learn that some things are done for money or other 
material reward; but that there are other things whose 
doing must bring their own rewards, either at once or 
at some later time. It were better that some things 
be not done at all than that the child should acquire 
the bargaining attitude towards them. 
Here was a boy who claimed he had no time to do 
what was required of him and apparently he made out 
a good case. Upon the offer of money, however, he 
was able to find time. Where did this time come from? 
He had to keep up his music practice; and he would 
not reduce his reading time. As a result of this bar- 
gain, he cut down his outdoor play. Was that worth 
doing? 
Rewards, like punishments, must do more than ac- 
complish an immediate purpose. We must look ahead 
to see the effects of our rewards and punishments upon 
the child’s character, and not merely count for the 
day’s convenience. Rewards and punishments are 
strong factors in developing the child’s scale of life’s 
values, and we owe it to the child to raise the standard 
of his motives as rapidly as his development will 
permit. THE TIME AND PLACE 
Little Ruth, who threw her brother’s new baseball 
about until it went crashing through the window, was 
really a very nice little girl, and no wicked thought 
had ever entered her head. She admired her big 
brother and his friends, and it was natural for her to 
imitate what she had seen them do. There is no dis- 
puting the damage done to the window. But this dam- 
age was hardly compensated by the damage done to 
Ruth by the scolding she received for her “ naughti- 
ness.” If window and bric-a-brac were saved from 
future destruction at the hands of Ruth and her throw- 
ing, it was at the cost of suppressing the girl’s impulse 
to throw. A wiser course would have been to impress 
Ruth with the harm that comes—not from throwing 
balls, but from throwing balls in a house, or in the 
neighborhood of windows. 
A class of children at school, in passing from the 
assembly to the recitation room, had to go through the 
gymnasium. One of the boys started to climb up a 
pole, and soon the whole flock of sheep followed suit. 
When they arrived in their classroom, the teacher, who 
had seen the performance through the corridor, pro- 
ceeded to draw a moral. She lost no time in making 
accusations, or in tempting the children to deny 
charges. She came at once to the question whether 
they thought it was right for them to climb the poles. 
266 THE TIME AND PLACE 
267 
Not one child undertook to defend the conduct as right. 
But when she asked them “ Why was it wrong to climb 
up the poles? ” there was evident a great deal of mental 
confusion. 
One thought it was wrong because the teacher was 
not there to watch them. Another, because they had 
not been given permission; and a third because they 
had not been given directions. Several said it was 
wrong just because it was wrong to climb the poles. 
One of the children, anxious to air his views, at last 
declared that it was not wrong; only that was not the 
right time to do it. 
This was just the idea the teacher had in mind, and 
of course the boy’s answer pleased her. When she saw 
the child’s mother a few days later, she told her of the 
incident; and then the mother was also pleased, for, as 
she said, she had always tried to teach Harvey that 
most of the things he did were not wrong, but that he 
sometimes did perfectly proper things at the wrong 
time or in the wrong place. She was pleased to think 
that her teaching had borne fruit. 
There comes a time in the life of every healthy child 
when keeping busy from morning until night does not 
use up all the energy generated in the little engine, 
and it is necessary to jump aimlessly up and down to 
get relief. But oh, how that jumping gets on our 
nerves! And then the easiest thing to do is to say, 
“Won’t you stop that jumping!” “ Sit still and give 
me a rest!” or words of similar import. Now it is 
quite practicable to make a child sit still and give the 
other people a rest. The question is, however, is it 268 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
worth while—to do it that way? It is almost as easy 
to get into the child’s mind the idea that jumping is 
lots of fun, and a perfectly legitimate exercise for the 
muscles and joints and heart; but that, it is even more 
fun to do the jumping outdoors, and no fun at all to 
annoy the fellow inmates of the house. 
And the same thing is true in regard to the running 
and shouting and the other acts of children that 
annoy older people with sensitive nerves or worries. 
It is not wrong for a child to do any of these things; 
but there is a time and a place for all of them. It is 
necessary for us to teach the child which is the right 
time and which is the right place; and it is also neces- 
sary for us to make sure that the child is provided 
with an opportunity to apply this principle—that is, 
there must be a place where he can do almost anything 
that his impulses call for, and there must be time for 
the free play of his impulses. Then we shall be in a 
position to direct as to what may or may not properly 
be done in the home or in the school. 
A seven-year-old boy who had started to make 
something with his mechanical construction outfit just 
before bedtime, was told that he could finish it in the 
morning before going to school. In the morning, how- 
ever, he played with his brother and sister until it was 
time to leave. He felt that he was entitled to redeem 
the promise made him the evening before, for a chance 
to finish his construction. His father said to him, 
“ You used up your building time for playing. When 
you use time for anything, it is gone, and you cannot 
use it again for anything else.” Nothing more was THE TIME AND PLACE 
269 
said at the time, but a week or two later the boy called 
his mother after he had gone to bed. “ Please bring 
me a book and make a light; I cannot sleep and I want 
to read.” The mother protested that this was not 
the time to read, and she would not comply with his 
wishes. “ Well, you are making me waste time,” said 
the little logician, “ father said when the time is gone 
you cannot use it again. It isn’t right for me to waste 
this time.” The boy’s argument was very good; but 
the mother’s answer was conclusive. “ That is right, 
David,” she said; “ do not waste any time. But when 
it is playing time, play as hard as you can. And when 
it is reading time, don’t do anything but read. Now 
it is sleeping time, and resting time, and you must not 
use the time for reading or for anything else.” 
To everything there is a season, said the Preacher, 
in the childhood of the race, and a time to every pur- 
pose under the heaven. And our children today can 
get the value of this teaching. WHAT THE CHILD THINKS HE WANTS 
When the baby cries for the moon, you do not give 
him what he wants. You silence his demand by offer- 
ing him a napkin ring or a jack-in-the-box. When he 
wants the gas-flame, you seek to divert his attention 
by dangling a ball before his eyes. This kind of treat- 
ment is all very well for the baby; but how long are 
you going to keep it up? 
Of course you cannot explain to the baby the in- 
accessibility of the moon, or the danger that lurks in 
the pretty flame; you divert his attention from the 
object of his desire because that is all you can do. 
Moreover, that is enough for the baby; for his inter- 
ests and desires cling closely to that which is immedi- 
ately before his senses. But this method works so well 
with the very young child, that we are very apt to 
continue to practice it even when the child is old enough 
to be reached by other methods. 
In the course of the child’s development a stage is 
reached wherein he is quite able to know apart that 
upon which he has set his heart, and that which you 
have substituted for it. At this time you must stop 
offering substitutes. The child is now old enough to 
know that some things are not to be had, and that 
crying will not bring them. To offer such a child a 
substitute for that which he has requested is an insult 
to his intelligence, for it is as good as saying to him, 
270 WHAT THE CHILD THINKS HE WANTS 
271 
“You really don’t know what you want; you don’t 
want to turn the wheel of that sewing machine now, 
you want a piece of cake.” More than that, it is 
demoralizing to his will, for it says to him, “ Of 
course you know what you want, but one wish is as 
good as another, and you may as well wish what I have 
decided to give you.” It is the child’s ability to hold 
before his mind that upon which he has set his heart 
which is to make the will at the foundation of his char- 
acter. And your substitute seeks to destroy this 
ability. 
And yet, what’s to be done when the thing the child 
wants is not to be had? Shall we let him cry and tease 
until he is exhausted, fixing in his mind the certainty 
that mother is indifferent to his wishes? Or shall we 
teach him as early as may be that a first refusal is 
final, and let it go at that? 
The child is placed in an environment wherein most 
things tempt his curiosity or his instinct to “ do some- 
thing ” or “ try something ” with them; and wherein, 
at the same time, most of these things must not be 
touched or handled. When Janet wishes to use the 
baby as a doll, she must be told firmly that this is 
simply out of the question. In the meanwhile, how- 
ever, she must have something to do, and the person in 
charge must find the opportunity for her. Now we 
must be on our guard against suggesting that playing 
with the tea set or stringing beads is just as good as 
playing with the baby, or that the new activity will do 
instead of the desired one. The attitude to assume is 
this: we thought we wanted to use the baby as a doll; THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
we find that this is simply impossible; we must there- 
fore find something else to interest us, or to occupy 
our idle energies. 
This may seem to many mothers like quibbling. But 
we must remember that the child is very keen to detect 
any uncertainty, any tendency to yield, on the part of 
those with whom he has to deal. If anything in your 
voice or in your manner can remotely suggest that you 
are bargaining with the child, that you are offering a 
compromise, you lose, even though you may succeed 
in saving the baby from the ruthless hands of Janet. 
There are some children who ask for things that they 
do not care very much about—things to have, or per- 
mission to do or to go. But they do care very much 
about having their requests denied. A child will some- 
times cry on being denied his request, and keep on cry- 
ing until he has actually forgotten what it was that he 
wanted. He has a vague feeling of dissatisfaction, a 
feeling that things are not just right. What he needs 
is something to do, something that will interest him 
and drive away that uncomfortable feeling. When you 
suggest an activity to a child in this state, you are not 
offering a substitute for that which he asked to have; 
you are substituting an opportunity to be active and 
happy for the misery whose cause he himself does not 
know. 
We must be clear in our minds as to what kinds of 
objects and what kinds of activities we are to allow 
the children. When a new question comes up, it is 
better to deliberate than to reverse your own first de- 
cision. When Johnny asks whether he may go out WHAT THE CHILD THINKS HE WANTS 
273 
again, you are tempted to say, “ No, because it’s so 
near dinner time.” He points out that there is still 
a quarter of an hour of golden time; you concede to 
the logic of figures and he goes. How much better 
to consider at once how much time there is, and grant 
the reasonable request graciously, instead of making 
a concession under the child’s pressure. 
Three little girls are bathing in a lake. The mother, 
on the shore, looks at her watch and calls to her 
children to come out of the water. “ It’s so pleasant 
in the water; mayn’t we stay just a little longer?” 
The mother yields five minutes, and at once the bar- 
gaining begins, ending in a compromise of ten minutes. 
Now the mother ought either to have made her children 
learn that when she calls it is time to come; or she 
should have learned that her children do not come when 
they are called. On top of this she should make up her 
mind just how much longer it would really be proper 
for the girls to stay in the water, and give them notice 
of the time at their disposal; and this should be in the 
form of an ultimatum, permitting of no extension or 
compromise of any kind. 
We all know that it is not well for children to get 
always everything they request; but it is much better 
for them to get what they want when they ask for it 
than to let them acquire the habit of getting what they 
want by nagging and bargaining. It is harder for the 
mother to think and make a final decision than it is to 
bargain; but it is worth while for her to do the difficult 
thing. INTEREST AND DISCIPLINE 
In order to get a task well done, it need not all be 
drudgery. If there is interest at the start, and satis- 
faction of some kind at the finish, the child will learn 
soon enough to put up with a great deal of effort and 
drudgery in overcoming obstacles. Whether it is learn- 
ing to sew, or making a wagon, the child will make the 
most rapid progress and produce the best results, in 
proportion as there is a motive that appeals to the 
taste, or ambition, or desires of the child. In other 
words, the work will be effective according to the in- 
terest that the child can maintain during its progress. 
We all realize the value of concentration and 
application on the part of the child. The real issue 
seems to be this: Should application and effort be 
obtained through fear, or compulsion, or should they 
be obtained through stimulation of a real concern of 
the child for the results of the task, or an interest in 
the process? 
As he was about to leave for a summer in the coun- 
try, his teacher informed eight-year-old Leonard that 
he had been “ promoted,” and told him that he would 
not have to “ study ” during his vacation. Leonard 
was happy and so was his mother, for she did dread 
the thought of having a child “ make up ” school work 
when he should be playing. But toward the end of the 
vacation, there was an occasion for writing a letter— INTEREST AND DISCIPLINE 
275 
grandfather was to have a birthday—and Leonard ex- 
hausted his ingenuity and his mother’s patience finding 
excuses and delays. When he did at last sit down to 
write the letter, the mother was both chagrined and 
worried. The child squirmed about in his seat, show- 
ing great discomfort. He made many false motions, 
omitted letters from common words (he was an un- 
usually good speller), and omitted strokes from many 
letters. The mother was ashamed to send off the let- 
ter; and she was afraid that the boy would be demoted 
after returning to school. She therefore resolved to 
use the remaining days of the vacation for retrieving 
the lost art, and planned a daily exercise in writing. 
There was resolution, so the plan was carried out— 
but it was a torture to both mother and child. This 
lasted for several days, and the progress made was far 
from encouraging. But one afternoon Leonard and 
some of his young friends were playing “ auction ” on 
the porch, they having witnessed a real auction of 
household effects a day or two earlier. Leonard was 
the clerk, and made a record of all the sales, writing 
the names of the purchasers, the articles, and the prices. 
When the mother saw the list she found it hard to 
realize that it had been made by the same child that 
suffered such agonies over his writing. The work was 
neat, the names were all spelled correctly, and there 
was no sign of effort or discomfort. 
This observation made the mother suspect that the 
child could be led faster than he could be driven, and 
she looked about for “ motives ” to make writing in- 
teresting. She got him to write out the items when 276 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
she sent him on an errand, she asked him to help her 
record purchases at the store, and when it came time 
to pack up for returning to the city, she had him list 
the drugs and toys and clothes that were to be left in 
the country. In all of this writing there was marked 
improvement; there was no irritation and there was 
considerable practice making for fluency. 
The incident emphasizes the conflict raging among 
psychologists and educators, between those who espouse 
the principle of “ discipline,” and those who advocate 
the idea of “ interest.” So many of us have a feeling 
that there is danger in sugar-coating the bitter pills 
which a child must swallow. This is akin to the feel- 
ing that what we naturally like to do, or what comes 
easy, must be somehow wrong, and that there is in- 
herent virtue in doing what is difficult. It seems obvi- 
ous that a child should learn to do the hard, disagree- 
able task, just because it has to be done. In later life 
we must do many things that are not interesting; we 
must do them because circumstances compel the doing. 
Should not the child therefore be trained to meet diffi- 
culties as a matter of course? 
Those who fear that training a child through ap- 
peals to the interest “ weakens the character ” are 
very much like people who think it is necessary for a 
child to have measles and other “ children’s diseases ” 
in order to attain a state of health. It is true that 
surviving measles and smallpox will make one immune 
to these diseases. But it is hardly wise to expose every 
child to these diseases for that reason. In the first 
place, immunity is not necessary, where we can make INTEREST AND DISCIPLINE 
277 
sure of preventing infection. But resistance to disease 
may be obtained more pleasantly and just as effec- 
tively by proper care for the nutrition and breathing 
and cleanliness of the body. The same principles 
would seem to apply to the moral health of the child. 
There is no doubt that many a child is “ spoiled ” 
by being pampered. We make a game of dressing or 
of eating, or of putting things in order, or of writing. 
There is the danger that when the child is older he 
will fail to do these things, because the dependence 
upon the game is too strong. This means that we may 
legitimately use the game as a motive for the child’s 
activity until he has acquired a new skill; but that after 
the skill is acquired we must supply a new motive for 
applying it. Under the “ discipline ” system the cor- 
responding danger is that after the child has learned 
to do something—under compulsion—he will evade the 
doing whenever the pressure is relieved. Whichever 
system is followed, it is necessary at last to find inter- 
nal motives for conduct, and this does not appear to 
be more difficult where the interest is made to play its 
part. 
On the other hand, where the child’s interests bear 
their share of the burden of training, we avoid a certain 
hardness or sourness and we strengthen the bonds of 
sympathy between our children and ourselves. THE EVERLASTING NAY 
Young children can easily be bulldozed into accept- 
ing the denial of their wishes, unless they are unusually 
strong-minded or stubborn. Later it becomes a strug- 
gle between parents and children; and man}r mothers 
can be nagged into submission. Very few of us can 
reverse ourselves gracefully, so that we usually adhere 
to our “ No ” even when we should like to change it to 
a “Yes.” 
Lawrence came running up to the porch, where his 
mother and a visitor were sewing. Pausing long enough 
to satisfy the conventions, he asked breathlessly, 
“ Mother, may I take off my shoes and stockings and 
go barefoot this afternoon? ” The negative answer 
came short and sharp. Then Lawrence began to tease. 
“ You let me Monday and last week,” he reminded her. 
“I know I did,” said mother; “but not this after- 
noon.” There was no reason given, and none required, 
apparently. It was merely a question of having the 
last word. Of course, mother had the last word; it 
would never do to reverse her decision. And certainly 
it would not do to let Lawrence take advantage of the 
presence of the company. Mother was not going to 
spoil her son by letting him think that he could get 
what he wanted by just nagging for it long enough. 
When she said “No,” she meant that; and her boy 
278 THE EVERLASTING NAY 
279 
would soon learn to understand that she meant what 
she said. 
Lawrence took his departure sulking and resentful. 
When he was beyond hearing the visitor asked, “ Why 
didn’t you let him go barefoot? You evidently don’t 
object on principle, and there is nothing in the weather, 
and the ground is dry enough.” The mother was not 
proud of her position. She had to confess that she 
had no good reason for objecting, only a sort of linger- 
ing memory of the time Lawrence had cut his toe some 
weeks ago. But he had gone barefoot several times 
since; there was really no objection. But having said 
No, she had to stick to it, had she not? “Perhaps,” 
suggested the friend, “ it’s just a habit of denying 
children’s requests because so many of them are foolish 
and unreasonable? ” The mother admitted that prob- 
ably it was. 
“ You remind me,” said the visitor, “ of Arnold Ben- 
nett’s Mr. Povey in his Old Wives’ Tale. You 
remember that every time his boy asked for something 
he had great difficulty in overcoming the impulse to 
say ‘ No.’ ” 
Mr. Povey and Lawrence’s mother are very much 
like most other grown-ups who have had to do with 
little children. We all know how utterly unreasonable 
are the hundred requests that a young child can make 
in a day. And if you don’t know what the child is 
going to ask for next, the chances are very good in 
favor of guessing that it will be something that simply 
cannot be granted. Is it any wonder then that we 
acquire that impulse to say “ No ” ? Nine times out 280 
THE MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN 
of ten that is the right answer; and if it happens to 
be the wrong answer the tenth time, why—it will be 
time enough to readjust ourselves then. 
Although we hate the idea of bulldozing the young 
children, we get the habit of saying “ No ” before con- 
sidering the merits of the request. Notwithstanding 
our chagrin on being nagged again and again into 
making concessions to our children, we get the habit of 
saying “ No.” However much we may regret it the 
moment after, we obey that impulse and still say 
“ No.” 
But that is not the worst of it. For presently young 
children become a little older; and some day they begin 
to “ reason.” Then they will classify their parents, as 
they will classify all their acquaintances, and they will 
put us into pigeon-holes that we should hate to occupy. 
They will size us up as arbitrary—as deciding prob- 
lems that come up without regard to right and justice. 
They will sort us with the contrary—as opposing high 
endeavor and the joy of life. 
Even before the days of adolescence children will 
make up their minds about the kind of people with 
whom they are obliged to live. And if you are both 
arbitrary and contrary—as you must be if you have 
the habit of saying “ No ” before taking circumstances 
into consideration—they will learn to have their way 
without taking the pains to consult you in advance. 
Richard, not yet five, on being reproached for going 
to a forbidden part of the beach with his companions 
without getting permission, said “We thought you 
wouldn’t let us go, so we did not ask you.” That was THE EVERLASTING NAY 
281 
genuine as well as naive. And that is the attitude to 
which children are inevitably driven by the everlasting 
nay—excepting that in time it ceases to be naive. 
At the time in the child’s development when it is 
most difficult to retain his confidence and sympathy, 
our record for being arbitrary and contrary will pre- 
sent a real obstacle to a close understanding. At the 
time when crowding questions should drive him home 
for counsel and guidance, all confidence in our judg- 
ment will have been destroyed. 
Again and again, in your intercourse with children, 
you will find it advisable and necessary to say “ No.” 
Well then, say it; and stick to it! The great problem 
is to say “ No ” nine times without getting the habit, 
to say “ No ” nine times and then be still able to say 
“ Yes,” if need be, the tenth time. In other words, 
we must avoid getting the habit of giving children any 
stereotyped answer. Every request and every ques- 
tion must be met with the freshness of a new situation, 
and treated on its merits. Only thus can we expect 
to retain the children’s confidence in our judgment and 
in our reasonableness. THE CHILD AND SOCIETY THE CHILD’S MANNERS 
In general girls are likely to accept the fashions in 
manners that they observe about them, just as they 
accept fashions in clothes. But every boy who 
amounts to anything must, at some time or other, ques- 
tion in his own mind the sense of the formal observ- 
ances that his mother and aunts label “ good manners.” 
For most girls it is sufficient to present good models 
and to tell them from time to time what are considered 
proper manners. But the spirit of the young male 
rebels against what is formal, and it is, for this reason, 
a more difficult task to teach manners to boys than it 
is to train girls in habits of courtesy and good form. 
The girl wants to be shown a pattern; the boy wants 
to be shown a reason. This difference between boys 
and girls must be recognized by the mother who is 
concerned with the manners of her children. 
We are so apt to think of manners as arbitrary 
devices that most of us are not very enthusiastic 
about demanding them of others. Even among those 
who observe the conventions through habit, large num- 
bers have a lurking feeling that many of the usages 
are empty forms, that many of them involve a great 
deal of hypocrisy, and that on the whole we might 
perhaps be better off without them. 
Indeed, the hypocrite has done much to discredit 
good manners by employing them for his own selfish 
285 286 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
purposes. But we must learn to distinguish between 
the virtue of a tool and the motives of those who 
use it. 
No doubt many of the conventions that cling to 
us in our daily actions have lost any meaning they 
may ever have had. And if manners are only mean- 
ingless conventions they are obstacles to human inter- 
course, and we should do all we can to get rid of them. 
But, on the whole, Emerson was right when he said: 
“ Manners aim to facilitate life, to get rid of impedi- 
ments, and bring the man pure to energize. They aid 
our own dealing and conversation as a railway aids 
traveling—by getting rid of all avoidable obstructions 
of the road and leaving nothing to be covered but pure 
space.” 
If we can convince ourselves that good manners rep- 
resent what efficiency engineers call “ standard prac- 
tice ”—not in the sense that they are the accepted 
usage, but in the sense that they are the usage which 
experience has shown to be the most effective in certain 
relations—then we shall be able to put more spirit into 
the forms. We shall look upon good manners not as 
a symbol of the ability to afford a high priced gov- 
erness, but as a symbol of a wholesome attitude toward 
others. 
New situations are always arising, and if we depend 
entirely upon the formal rules that a child can mem- 
orize we shall be far from attaining the end of our 
striving. The only kind of politeness that will wear 
is the kind that expresses sincere reverence and kind- 
ness and sympathy and consideration in due propor- THE CHILD’S MANNERS 
287 
tion. A boy’s stepping aside for an older person to 
pass will have meaning to the end of time. 
Children learn much of their manners from the ex- 
ample of those they see on the street, from their 
teachers and fellow pupils in school, and from the 
heroes and heroines of their readings. But they get 
the largest and perhaps most lasting impressions in the 
home. It is remarkable to what extent the manners 
and mannerisms of children reflect the habitual atti- 
tude of their parents, or at least, the habitual conduct 
of their parents. But most parents have attained an 
age at which it is almost impossible to acquire new 
habits and manners, and if we are to do anything with 
our children we must be constantly on the lookout 
against our own shortcomings. 
Some parents are with their children at meals more 
than at any other time and table manners come to be 
fairly representative of the family manners. In his 
book What Is It To Be Educated? C. Hanford 
Henderson devotes a great deal of space to the subject 
of table manners and of the meal generally, because 
of its high educational importance. He says: “ The 
act is repeated over a thousand times a year, and for 
that reason alone would be quite worth idealizing. In 
addition our table manners give color to the rest of 
the day’s doings, and become a significant element in 
the conduct of life. . . . When you show a boy that 
true courtesy, true manners depend upon a nice con- 
sideration for others and are a part of the respect 
which a gentleman owes to himself—noblesse oblige— 
you quite easily win him over to your side.” 288 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
In addition to cultivating the feelings that express 
themselves in good conduct, in addition to showing 
boys that manners really have a genuine meaning, we 
should make politeness natural to children by our own 
conduct toward them. Children are constantly making 
blunders and doing things that merit disapproval, to 
say the least. But if we show as much patience and 
consideration in correcting them and in reproving 
them as we expect ladies and gentlemen to show each 
other in discussing a subject on which they do not 
agree, we shall do much toward making of these boys 
and girls well bred men and women. IMPUDENCE TRUE AND FALSE 
One does not need to be very old to recall the days 
when all children were well behaved and respectful to 
their elders. And those of us who are too young to 
remember the good old days can get from European 
visitors the assurance that American children are, on 
the whole, altogether too free in their speech. Indeed, 
our visitors from abroad are more frequently shocked 
by the “ impudence ” of our children than they are 
impressed by the height of our buildings. 
It must be admitted that our children are rather out- 
spoken. In our reaction against the crushing restraints 
of puritanism, we have no doubt gone too far. And 
in rejecting the old standards of human and child con- 
duct we have too frequently failed to establish definite 
standards of our own. But we are not compelled to 
choose between disrespect and lawlessness on the one 
hand, and repression and hypocrisy on the other. 
Children must have freedom; but they can and should 
be taught to speak in a respectful and mannerly fashion. 
A great deal of what older people resent as “ impu- 
dence ” is really not offensive in spirit. But when the 
shocking word is spoken, it is not always accompanied 
by its own explanation. It is necessary for older peo- 
ple to understand what goes on in the child’s mind, 
instead of waiting for the child to make the explanation. 
There are three common sources of “ impudence ” 
289 290 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
that we can learn to understand, and to treat. Children 
unconsciously imitate the tones and expressions that 
they hear at home, or among their associates. Of a 
child that is often scolded and reproved in coarse terms, 
we should not expect the use of gentle and refined speech 
in situations that call forth his critical or resentful 
spirit. We are outraged on hearing a young Miss 
say to her father, “ You were crazy to go out without 
your umbrella; you might have seen it would rain.” 
But it should not take us long to find out that the child 
is using the friendly and conventional language of 
her own home. There is no question of disrespect or 
insolence. We learn that the girl does not “ mean ” 
to be offensive. But it is clear that she cannot culti- 
vate reverence while she continues to speak in this 
manner to her parents. What is at first but an inele- 
gant use of language comes in time to be an unwhole- 
some attitude toward other people. There are then 
two things we may do in such a case. We may either 
establish the rule that the child must use only certain 
kinds of expressions and tones in addressing older 
people, and must avoid others. This would insure the 
preservation of the outward forms. Or we may furnish 
the child with the kinds of models that we should not 
fear to have copied. We must decide for ourselves 
which method we are to prefer: the arbitrary separa- 
tion of the child’s notion of conduct into that which 
is to be permitted to elders but forbidden to children, 
and that which is permitted to all; or the cultivation 
of a wholesome atmosphere of considerateness and re- 
spect for others. IMPUDENCE TRUE AND FALSE 
291 
When the offensive word or grimace is the genuine 
expression of a hateful mood, we have a different prob- 
lem. Under the older ideas of bringing up children, 
the chief emphasis was laid on repressing the outward 
manifestations of the objectionable feelings. Now, 
while it is true that to a certain extent the feelings can 
be smothered, as their expression is restrained, there 
was no positive effort to cultivate friendly and rever- 
ent emotions. The result of this policy shows itself 
too frequently in indifference, in hypocrisy, and in 
some kind of “ explosion.” Running away from home 
is an explosion of this kind, being in a large propor- 
tion of cases set off by an emotional disturbance for 
which the child had no suitable means of expression. 
Where the steam cannot be let off, something is likely 
to break loose violently. 
Of course we do not wish our children to have “ bad 
emotions.” But beyond the point where they can be 
safely suppressed, it is better that we know just what 
the children feel. Occasional expressions of ill will or 
of irreverence may be taken as the occasion for a clear- 
ing up of the moral atmosphere. Talking a situation 
over with the child will often bring to the surface 
lingering shreds of spite or bitterness. These gnaw- 
ing and growing sources of estrangement can be dis- 
covered usually only where the children are fairly free 
to give expression to their feelings, restrained only by 
what they learn of genuine respect and courtesy. 
In many cases what appears as disrespect or worse, 
is merely an indication of ignorance, or crudeness. 
This was illustrated by a little boy of four, whose vio- 292 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
lent jumping on a rickety chair was interrupted by 
his cautious grandmother. When the old lady’s back 
was turned, the child whispered to his brother, “ Don’t 
you wish she was dead? ” This was a scandalous thing 
to hear, and under other circumstances a child saying 
anything like that would have been mercilessly chas- 
tized. But in this case, as in many others, there was 
neither malice in the child’s feelings nor understanding 
in his mind. In all good faith he wished the disturbing 
grandmother beyond good and evil. A child needs in 
a case of this kind, not reproof or punishment, but 
enlightenment. He must learn the remoter meanings 
and implications of the words he uses, and he must 
learn to speak with discrimination. 
Whether the undesirable modes of expression that 
we commonly call impudence are the results of imitat- 
ing bad models, or the results of unrestrained freedom 
of expression, our remedies are not to be sought in 
enforced silence. It is well for us to know first of all 
what the sources of the impudence are, and then to 
deal with these. We cannot always regulate in ad- 
vance the language and manners of the associates of 
our children, but wTe can do a great deal to make the 
home impressions what they ought to be. And it is 
better for us to know just what the children think and 
feel, and improve their thoughts and feelings, than to 
foster hatred and hypocrisy under the cloak of 
decorum. THE BOY’S TASTE FOR SOCIETY 
There’s no accounting for taste, as everyone knows, 
so that it is very seldom indeed that the friends of the 
bride can tell what she ever saw in that fellow. And 
it is probably for similar reasons that Mrs. Jones can 
never tell what in the world her son can see in that 
Smith boy, with whom he goes almost constantly. The 
loving mother, anxious to have her boy advance and 
improve himself in every way, and realizing how pow- 
erful an influence is exerted by one’s associates, coun- 
sels the son to associate only with those from whom he 
can most profit. For example, he should associate 
only with boys that are older and wiser and “ nicer ” 
than he is. But if Johnny has any brains left, he 
wonders whether, if that is sound advice, all the boys 
ought to follow it, and whether the older and superior 
boys of his acquaintance should in that case associate 
with him. 
The fact is that in the formation of friendships 
among children, as in the formation of less lasting asso- 
ciations, the individual is very rarely either calculat- 
ing for advantages, or excluding as a prig. Children 
get together and form groups, or “ gangs ” among 
boys, on a purely instinctive basis, and the good or 
harm of such associations depends very largely upon 
the opportunities and temptations and guidance of the 
293 THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
group rather than upon the “ goodness ” or “ bad- 
ness ” of any particular individuals in it. 
The boy who a short time ago was content to play 
games with one or two others, or to carry on many 
of his activities by himself at home, has become a 
changed person. The activities and the opportunities 
of the home no longer interest him; they are too re- 
stricted in scope, and they are not of the kind that 
are related to the gang. 
A young boy may neglect school and go fishing 
alone; after he has reached the gang stage it is no 
longer fun to go fishing, except in company. A young 
boy may be a good fighter and love to fight; but after 
he has reached the gang stage he fights only according 
to the moral code of the gang—that is, he fights with 
the gang against other gangs; or he represents his 
gang in fighting a boy from another gang; or he will 
fight a member of his own gang “ just for fun,” in 
perfect good humor, or in defense of his right, or in 
defense of the gang honor. 
The games of the gang period are almost exclusively 
jgames that involve group action or “ team play).” 
Baseball has its powerful hold on the boys just because 
of this appeal to the coherence and the unity of the 
group. Golf will never be popular in the sense in 
which football and baseball are popular, because in golf 
each player works for his own advancement; and this 
can never be tolerated by a loyal member of a gang. 
Indeed, although the boys are instinctively hero-wor- 
shipers, they will never let anyone who seeks to pro- 
mote his own glory attain to a prominent place in THE BOY’S TASTE FOR SOCIETY 
295 
group activities. They instinctively suspect such a 
person; they are all for devotion and sacrifice and 
loyalty to the little community that embraces them. 
Many mothers recognize readily enough that at this 
period the association of the boy with others of his age 
in the informal yet rigidly disciplinary gang calls for 
the exercise of certain fine moral qualities. But they 
deplore the fact that the aims of the gang are not 
sufficiently high, or that the group itself is perhaps 
not a sufficiently worthy object for the sacrifices and 
devotions of the boy. And here is where the parents 
are likely to make a serious mistake. They are likely 
either to ignore the spirit of association and coopera- 
tion that is now coming to the front in the soul of the 
child, insisting upon a continuation of individual im- 
provement through individual treatment, or they may 
attempt to fight against the gang as a mischievous 
institution, without offering anything to take its place. 
Both methods are bound to fail. We should instead 
recognize the strong instincts that are back of the 
gang, and then try to direct them into channels that 
will lead to a desirable application of the spirit and 
energy that now go to waste—or worse—in the random 
assemblage of the street or village. 
The first great need of every gang is a habitation. 
If the boys have not a tent in the woods, a rude shanty, 
an abandoned outhouse, an attic, a cellar or a dugout, 
then a street corner or a park entrance must serve. 
The boys really have no choice; if you offer them a 
better meeting place, they will abandon the street cor- 
ner. If you drive them from the home, you will drive 296 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
them to the street. The parent that can provide a 
suitable meeting place for the gang has overcome the 
first great difficulty of this period. There must be a 
place where the boys can keep their traps and tackle, 
their balls and bats and other paraphernalia for games, 
their books of adventures and pictures of star pitchers 
or favorite air-man. There must be a place where 
the boys will feel so much at home that they need not 
talk in a whisper or put on company manners. 
Not all households can supply meeting places for 
the boy and his friends. But every household can 
supply the second great need. That is a sympathetic 
attitude toward the interests of the group. We must 
recognize that it is just as legitimate for the boys 
to go to the fields with sandwiches and baseball outfits 
as it is for the adults to go to the theater or to a card 
party. It is just as legitimate for the boys to rehearse 
for a performance of Captain Kidd or Robin Hood 
as it is for adults to talk politics or go to a vestry 
meeting. The parents who can enter into sympathetic 
interest in the enterprises of the gang will do much 
toward keeping the boys of the gang interested in the 
enterprises of the home. 
We cannot solve the problem of the boy’s moral 
training in the social virtues by keeping him in the 
solitary confinement of the home, or of companions 
we select for him. If the gang is not good enough for 
my hoy, I must improve the whole gang, by giving 
it a chance to work out its salvation under wholesome 
conditions. CHILDREN’S FRIENDSHIPS. 
Johnny and his friend were chums for many years 
because they had the same birthday; and Grace and 
Gertrude found each other through writing the initial 
G in the same way. But another little girl with flaxen 
hair and pale eyes selected her friend because the latter 
had such nice dark hair and skin and eyes. You may 
not be so sensitive to color; yet it was the wearing of 
a red apron that gave Mabel Henderson a life-long 
friend. Not that she wore that red apron all her 
life—that only started the friendship. The fact is 
that Margaret herself could not have told why she 
was so attached to her friend. 
It takes only a trifle to start an association—a 
casual meeting on the street, corner waiting for a 
favorable opportunity to cross, being admitted to 
school on the same day, or being fascinated by a gap 
in another’s row of teeth. But after the beginning is 
made, almost any two children can learn to like each 
other fairly well, and the longer they associate, the 
better they come to understand each other, the more 
accustomed they become to each other’s ways, the 
harder will it be for them to give each other up. 
Children’s friendships are not deliberate, calculated 
selections; they are haphazard growths. They can 
therefore not be reasoned about to any purpose by the 
parents, and much less by the children themselves. THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
If they are accidental in their beginnings and habit- 
ual in their continuance, these childhood friendships 
are nevertheless a source of grave concern to many 
parents. And Margaret’s mother could see in the 
girl’s friend many things that Margaret herself could 
not see; and many of them were of a kind that she 
would rather not have in her daughter’s immediate 
neighborhood. The mother remembered the story that 
they used to tell the children years ago, about the barrel 
of good apples with the single rotten apple, and the 
sad fate of all those good apples. And she feared that 
Margaret would “ catch ” all the faults of her friend. 
That is why she made such heroic efforts to discredit 
that other young lady in Margaret’s estimation. That 
is why she said things about her daughter’s friend that 
she would not permit anyone to say about her own 
friends—true or not true. And that is why she failed 
to wean Margaret from her friend. 
For the child of normal sentiments will resent bit- 
terly any aspersions on those he likes. He will not 
have anyone tell him of his mother’s faults, nor will he 
listen to adverse criticism of his friends. He is not 
concerned with the truthfulness of your criticism; nor 
with your good intention in telling him. Every attack 
upon those he likes is a challenge to his loyalty. And 
the more you rail against his chum the closer grows 
the attachment. 
A four-year-old boy recently moved into a new 
neighborhood, and made the acquaintance of a lad of 
his own age but of a very different set of manners. 
The mother of the first boy seriously warned him not CHILDREN’S FRIENDSHIPS 
299 
to associate with Bob because he would be sure to spoil 
his speech and his manners. Bob used such language; 
and from time to time he would even spit! Hector 
listened reflectively, very much impressed. At last he 
caught the idea. “ Well, mother,” he said, “ that will 
be all right. I won’t let him make me bad, and I’ll 
make him good instead.” 
While we all know that one child can “ spoil ” an- 
other, we must admit that there was some reason in 
Hector’s reply. Children do influence one another, 
and the influence for good is just as real and just as 
effective as the influence for evil. If we fear that on 
the whole the evil influences prevail, our remedy must 
not be sought in the isolation of the child, for such 
isolation is at least as bad as anything that can be 
acquired from unselected companions. The remedy 
lies in two directions. On the one hand, the child with 
an undesirable friend must be encouraged to extend 
his circle of acquaintances; on the other hand, the in- 
fluence of the home must be strengthened in the hope 
of counteracting any evil influences that may emanate 
from the “ bad ” friend. One need not be on the look- 
out for trouble; but if the language used at home is 
above reproach, the careless speech on the outside may 
extend the vocabulary without much danger of per- 
manent harm. 
There are extreme cases in which it seems important 
to separate a boy or girl from an undesirable com- 
panion. In such cases the surest way of strengthening 
the affinity is usually to make some show of opposing 
it. Every attempt to arouse antagonisms only stimu- 300 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
ates the mutual interest. These facts must not be taken 
to indicate that the proper course lies in a series of 
eulogies in honor of the undesirable one. The first 
step is to ignore the friendship as completely as pos- 
sible. Then an effort must be made to substitute new 
interests for the old friendship, and to reduce the oc- 
casions for intercourse as much as circumstances will 
permit. If the parents will find or make opportunity 
to take the child out of his usual surroundings in their 
own company, they will generally find that the new 
interests will develop simultaneously with the fading 
of the attachment for the person to be divorced. 
The other side of the problem is the encouragement 
of young people that you consider worthy companions 
for your children to come into more frequent associa- 
tion with the members of the household. But there is 
danger in overdoing this also, unless we have exceptional 
tact and insight. We meddle with fate in any case at 
our own risk. PARENTS VERSUS TEACHERS 
Every thinking person takes it for granted that 
parents and teachers are both necessary for the proper 
bringing up of children. We take it for granted that 
both parents and teachers are to a large extent con- 
cerned with nearly identical ends in the training of 
children. Yet everywhere we find these two classes 
working at cross-purposes, as though each were doing 
his best to counteract the efforts of the other. Why 
does this conflict exist at all; and especially why does 
it exist today, when on every hand we hear of the 
value and importance of cooperation? 
It should, of course, be a part of our deliberate pur- 
pose to cooperate systematically with those who have 
our children in their charge so much of the day. If 
we find—as we are likely to find on a short investiga- 
tion—that most teachers are ignorant regarding the 
home conditions of their pupils, we can readily under- 
stand the reason. The teachers have had neither the 
time nor the occasion to become acquainted with the 
homes. Nor are they likely, for many years to come, 
to get the time and the opportunity. But when the 
parents are ignorant of the conditions in the school, 
the remedy lies nearer to hand. It is true that in 
many families both parents are so engrossed with their 
daily tasks that visiting school is a great hardship, 
301 302 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
not to say an impossibility. But many homes are 
probably so situated that one of the parents can man- 
age to visit the school and become acquainted with its 
problem—so far as his own children are concerned— 
a few times a year. 
Aside from the mutual ignorance, there are several 
pQ/sitive conditions that make teachers and parents 
work at odds. The first of these is that at home die 
child is an individual, whereas in school he is one of a 
group. This difference is an important one, and one 
that often gives rise to misunderstandings. Parents 
find it particularly difficult to understand why the 
teacher should complain of the conduct of their children, 
when their children are so good at home. They do 
not see that a child surrounded by his classmates will 
react in a manner decidedly different from that which 
he exhibits when alone with his parents or other mem- 
bers of the family. Moreover, some of the very 
“ nicest ” children can make intolerable nuisances of 
themselves in a class, since they demand the same at- 
tention and coddling from their teachers that they are 
accustomed to receive at home—and the teacher simply 
cannot give each child so much individual attention. 
This is merely a matter of arithmetic, not to consider 
the other factors. 
On the other hand, many a child finds it easier to 
adjust himself to the group and the routine of the 
school than to the indefiniteness and irregularities of 
the home. Then the mother is glad enough to come to 
the school and ask “ Whatever shall I do with Tommy PARENTS VERSUS TEACHERS 
303 
at home? He gets such nice reports, but at home I 
can’t do anything with him.” And very likely the 
school will not be able to tell her. 
Another obstacle to complete cooperation is the lack 
of candor on the part of parents. Perhaps it is the 
maternal instinct that makes the mother say “ I don’t 
see how he ever came to do such a thing. This is the 
first time that any teacher has ever complained about 
my Robert.” Robert’s mother does not realize that 
teachers compare notes and that the modern school has 
a way of knowing what that boy did out of the ordi- 
nary from the time he entered the primary class, or she 
would not make herself ridiculous by pretending to 
believe that an angel had fallen. 
Robert never was an angel, no matter what his 
mother may say; and he has not fallen—that is, not 
very far—no matter what his teacher may say. He 
is just an ordinary boy and normal probably in pro- 
portion to his health. He has violated the more or less 
arbitrary rules of the school and his own best conscience 
on several previous occasions, and he will no doubt do 
so several times more before he “ goes out into the 
world.” It would therefore be greatly to Robert’s 
advantage if his mother and his teacher understood 
each other. In most cases the teachers are willing to 
do their share, but “ maternal instinct ” is a serious 
obstacle. When a girl in one of our large schools 
absented herself without leave (yes, even girls can 
“ play hookey ”) the parent was called upon for an 
explanation. Instead of meeting the situation frankly, 
she thought she was saving the honor of the family THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
and preventing “ trouble ” for her daughter by writing 
that she “ knew of Madeline’s absence, and that it was 
all right.” But she did not deceive the school authori- 
ties, and she neither helped her daughter nor her repu- 
tation. When parents will conspire with their children 
to deceive the teachers, cooperation is impossible. 
The attitude of parents toward the work of the school 
often makes or breaks a child’s school career. When 
Annie has difficulty with her lessons, it is natural for 
the parents to wish to assist her. But excepting very 
rare cases, the “ help ” is likely to consist of a substi- 
tution of parent’s work for child’s work—and that is 
worse than no help at all. The reason for this is that 
most parents are not trained in using the methods that 
will assist a child in acquiring a principle, although 
they can easily help the child to get a desired solution 
of a problem or an “ answer.” Some private schools 
which are in a position to make their own rules, and 
to enforce them, prohibit absolutely the giving of aid to 
their pupils by anyone other than their own teachers. 
Nevertheless, parents can help by discussing problems 
with their children, and by adopting an attitude that 
makes the school work seem worth while, and by pro- 
viding conditions suitable for work at home. 
It is difficult enough in ordinary affairs to see facts 
clearly and to report them accurately. How is a 
parent, with a natural prejudice in the favor of her 
children, and an equally natural resentment against 
attention being called to any faults, to deal with the 
teacher without exaggeration one way or the other? 
It is only by constantly studying our children that we PARENTS VERSUS TEACHERS 
come to know them well enough to be able to cooperate 
with their teachers intelligently and effectively. We 
may never learn to know ourselves, having started the 
study late; we must at least try to know our children. BUGABOOS AND FRIENDS 
The obstreperous child will often give you that feel- 
ing of helplessness, and you will be tempted to call in 
the assistance of a stronger power. But it would never 
do to call in the neighbors or a passing stranger, so 
you do the next best thing. You threaten to call in the 
policeman. Of course you never do call in the police- 
man, but the threat serves your immediate purpose. 
For the time being, the child is intimidated and you 
heave a sigh of relief. 
But in calling upon the name of the law’s minion 
thus in vain, you have accomplished more than you 
really had in mind. You have indeed subdued the little 
rascal; but you have also converted a powerful and 
useful friend into a dangerous enemy. When a very 
young child has been thus brutally scared by the buga- 
boo, we can understand his going into a fit of hysterics 
upon the policeman taking him in his arms, the day he 
got lost in the park. When Charlie was older and got 
lost on a strange street, he knew enough to ask for 
guidance to help find his way home; but he was too wise 
to ask the policeman; he asked a stranger instead. He 
did not know that the policeman was the safest man to 
ask; he knew no more that the policeman was his friend 
than did the baby that went into hysterics. 
However, a walk through a city park must impress 
one with the change that has come about in the relation 
306 BUGABOOS AND FRIENDS 
307 
between the children and the policeman. The attitude 
of the latter has changed in the course of a generation, 
largely through the agitation for giving the city child 
a chance to play; in part also because of the different 
type of men to be found on the police force. But the 
greatest and most encouraging change is that in the 
parents. It is now the most ignorant or the most 
thoughtless who still resort to the use of this friend as 
a bugaboo. 
Our intelligence has not gone far enough to make us 
eliminate from our armory all bugaboos. If a child 
has had a disagreeable quarter of an hour under the 
dentist’s drill, he will remember that he suffered for a 
long time to come. But it would be stupid indeed to 
threaten another visit to the dentist as a penalty for 
any kind of disobedience. One should even be chary 
about using this threat as a penalty for refusing to 
brush the teeth. While it is true that neglect of the 
teeth will necessitate a visit to the dentist, the attitude 
toward the dentist must be one of complete friendliness, 
and not that of fear. He is the person to help us when 
our teeth have gotten into trouble through neglect, or 
to help us avoid trouble in the future. He is not to be 
looked upon as the person who gives us pain. We 
should make an endeavor to help the child associate 
the pain with the consequences of his own acts or neg- 
lects, and not with the ministrations of the dentist. 
Even more important is the attitude that the child 
comes to assume toward the physician. When you do 
have occasion to call a physician for the child, you are 
anxious to have him help you. But if you have made 308 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
the bitter medicine the symbol of unpleasant punish- 
ment, you have discredited the physician’s tools, and 
have placed a serious obstacle in his way. 
From earliest infancy it should be the mother’s aim 
to develop in the child an attitude of friendliness and 
confidence toward the family physician, for upon this 
attitude will largely depend the physician’s ability to 
be of help in curing disease and in maintaining the 
health of the child. Experience has shown that if such 
an attitude is cultivated, the word of the physician will 
come to carry great weight with the child, and can 
then be used to support you, not only in matters per- 
taining to health, but in the whole conduct of the child’s 
life. A little boy who had this attitude early developed 
in him, could be made to refrain from the most tempt- 
ing foods by the simple assurance that “ Dr. Jones 
said that this would not be good for you and every 
little boy and every little girl will be tempted to eat 
and to do what considerations of health would 
forbid, but what ordinary authority cannot easily 
prevent. 
The ability and the personality of the physician are 
of course important in securing the child’s affection 
and confidence. But the physician cannot overcome 
the obstacles put in his way by a wrong attitude on 
the part of the parents. A certain child suffering 
from pleurisy could not have his ailment diagnosed 
because every time the physician appeared, the child 
was thrown into spasms. While this is no doubt an 
extreme case, forces of the same kind are at work to 
counteract the specialist’s best efforts where thought- BUGABOOS AND FRIENDS 
309 
less parents cultivate bugaboos instead of cultivating 
friendship. 
With the right feeling, with an appreciation of the 
friendship of the physician, the sick child looks for- 
ward to the physician’s visit with pleasurable anticipa- 
tion, which is itself a step toward getting well. While 
confined by diphtheria, a child who had the greatest 
affection and gratitude for the physician, complained 
after several daily visits that the doctor was doing 
nothing to get him out of bed. He had been so pleased 
with the relief that the antitoxin afforded him, and he 
was feeling so well, that he could not understand why 
this good friend and wonderful helper should be so 
unable to discharge him from his prison. 
If parents could bring their children to look upon 
those who are placed in positions of authority and 
power—as the policeman, the teacher, the physician, 
etc.—as friends and helpers, rather than as mere per- 
functory hirelings, or as bugaboos to use as threats, 
they will do much to increase the efficiency of these 
helpers, as well as to promote the children’s sense of 
social interdependence. CHILDREN AND MONEY 
In his Children’s Story-Sermons, the Rev. Dr. Hugh 
T. Kerr tells the following story: 
“ One morning when Bradley came down to breakfast, 
he put on his mother’s plate a little piece of paper 
neatly folded. His mother opened it. She could hardly 
believe it, but this is what Bradley had written: 
Mother owes Bradley 
For running errands $0.25 
For being good 10 
For taking music lessons 15 
Extras 05 
Total $0.55 
“ His mother smiled, but did not say anything, and 
when lunch time came she placed the bill on Bradley’s 
plate with fifty-five cents. Bradley’s eyes fairly danced 
when he saw the money and thought his business ability 
had been quickly rewarded, but with the money there 
was another little bill, which read like this: 
Bradley owes mother 
For being good $0.00 
For nursing him through his long ill- 
ness with scarlet fever 00 
For clothes, shoes, gloves, and play- 
things 00 
For all his meals and his beautiful 
room 00 
Total that Bradley owes mother.. $0.00 
310 CHILDREN AND MONEY 
311 
“ Tears came into Bradley’s eyes, and he put his arms 
around his mother’s neck, put his little hand with the 
fifty-five cents in hers, and said, ‘ Take all the money 
back, mamma, and let me love you and do things for 
you.’ ” 
The homes of this country are full of Bradleys who 
know nothing of rights and duties as related to money. 
And how should they know, never having learned? 
Among the children of the poor there usually develops 
rather early in life a keen appreciation of the value of 
money. Whatever money there is is quickly spent, and 
comes to represent pretty definitely the necessities and 
the luxuries of life. A nickel means a loaf of bread 
and a penny means a stick of candy. Money is hard 
to get and good to have; and without it we have priva- 
tion and misery. On the other hand, in the homes of 
the well-to-do and in the country, where comparatively 
little cash is handled, the opportunities to become ac- 
quainted with the sources and properties of money are 
comparatively narrow. Here people somehow have 
what they need, and no special effort or hardship is 
associated with getting these things. What is wanted 
is “ ordered,” and the children know nothing about 
the cost. Whatever money they may wish for the 
trifles that they buy themselves can usually be had 
for the asking. When Jessica’s mother declared 
that she really could not have the money for a large 
doll that had caught the child’s fancy, she was re- 
minded simply that she might get the money at the 
bank. 
Money plays so important a role in modem life, 312 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
that we are apt to take it for granted without thinking 
especially of teaching children what they should under- 
stand of the matter. Children should learn these 
things definitely and practically, beginning as soon as 
they are old enough to appreciate relative values. A 
child can begin by buying things for the household 
when he is able to distinguish the coins and count up 
the amounts. The age for this will, of course, vary 
with different children. It is, however, only through 
experience in buying that a person can ever attain 
to judgment in buying. The sense of values comes from 
familiarity with many values in terms of a common de- 
nominator. The methods by which people come to be 
possessed of money, and the relation of service to pay- 
ment, should enter the child’s experience as soon as he 
can understand these things. 
An eight-year-old boy, tired after the strenuous 
exertions of the day, was disinclined to put away the 
toys and blocks. But there was no compromise; 
mother insisted and the task was soon accomplished. 
He came back to mother and said “ Now they’re all 
put away, Mother. Give me a nickel.” 
“ A nickel ? ” asked the mother, not perceiving the 
relevancy of the last remark. “ Why should I give 
you a nickel? ” 
“For putting away those things; that’s work; I 
don’t want to be a slave,” came the answer. 
This suggested a possible misunderstanding, and 
mother asked rather than declared, “ You don’t know 
what a slave is, Clarence! ” 
“ Oh, yes, I do,” persisted the boy. “ A slave is CHILDREN AND MONEY 
313 
like the colored people in the South who used to be 
made to work without getting paid.” 
That was near enough to the truth for the immediate 
purpose and Clarence’s mother had to stop fencing. 
She closed right in. People get paid for doing work 
for others, she explained, only where they cannot get 
any other return for their service. But people do not 
get paid for doing their duty. We all have to do 
things for each other; else we could not get along to- 
gether. Indeed, we could not get along at all, for 
children are quite helpless at first, and if things were 
not done for them they would soon perish. Clarence 
understood that. He had seen the kittens dependent 
upon the mother cat for food. He shuddered at the 
thought of baby sister being left to her own resources. 
And parents do not expect pay for what they do; 
there is no one to pay them and they are not working 
for pay. They love their children and so they do all 
they can for them. But they do expect children to do 
their several dutie.s, for which there is no pay. They 
get their compensation in other ways; not in money. 
The explanation was entirely satisfactory to Clar- 
ence, except at one point. He did not see how he was 
going to get any money, if not in payment for the 
things he could do—and he had already discovered 
that he needed money. When a child reaches the point 
at which he has the germ of appreciation for money, 
he certainly should have an opportunity to get it, if 
that can possibly be arranged. And if the family has 
the means, there are two ways in which, this can be 
arranged. 314 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
A child may be given a small regular allowance for 
his own use. Through this he may learn the joy of 
immediate indulgence of trifling whims; or he may 
learn to expend his resources with discrimination; or 
he may learn the advantages of deferring expenditure 
for more favorable purchasing. The child’s claim to 
such an allowance can be justified to his mind on 
exactly the same ground as his claim to food and 
clothing and other material and immaterial wealth 
shared in the home. He gets these things not as a 
reward of merit, but through his status as a dependent 
member of a household. 
For the reason that the allowance is a part of the 
routine income of the child, by virtue of his member- 
ship in the home community, it should never be used 
as an instrument of “ discipline.” If the allowance 
can be justified at all, it should be increased only in 
recognition of larger needs, and it should be dimin- 
ished only when retrenchment is necessary for the 
family as a whole, or when changing conditions indi- 
cate reduced needs for the child. Thus, older children 
may legitimately expect to receive larger allowances 
than the younger ones. And, on the other hand, 
if living in the country part of the year reduces 
the occasions for spending money, it may be proper 
to cut the allowance down. Or this may be the oppor- 
tunity for learning the satisfaction of putting some- 
thing aside. 
The regular receipt of the allowance may be made 
contingent upon a child’s maintaining a satisfactory 
level of conduct, or on his manifesting a spirit of CHILDREN AND MONEY 
315 
cooperation in the home. But this arrangement must 
not permit us to make specific misconduct an occasion 
for deducting from the allowance. When Agnes failed 
to return from a visit to a friend at a sufficiently early 
hour, her mother said nothing; but at the end of the 
week she took off ten cents from the allowance. In 
this the mother was entirely in the wrong, for in the 
first place the money allowance of the child should 
be on exactly the same basis as the other privileges 
which he enjoys as a member of the family, and not 
be singled out as a club for penalizing delinquencies. 
In the second place, by using it in this way the mother 
at once reduces the responsibilities of the child to a 
cash basis. Agnes can calculate next time whether 
staying out later is worth the ten cents that it costs. 
This attitude also opens up the whole field of the 
child’s conduct to petty bickerings and bargainings 
about the number of cents to be paid for each “ good ” 
deed, or the number of cents to be deducted for each 
“ bad ” deed. 
In addition to an allowance, children should have 
opportunities to earn extra amounts of money. It is 
the money earned that gives them the necessary inner 
experience without which one is never able to translate 
money values into terms of effort and exertion and 
sacrifice. Money that comes without effort may teach 
the child to spend wisely, or to save; but it can never 
teach him the human cost of the things that he uses 
from day to day. It is perhaps at this point more 
than anywhere else that the children of the well-to-do 
fail to become acquainted with the life problems of 316 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
the mass of the people. They come to feel the value 
of money in terms of what it can buy, but not in terms 
of what it costs. 
In many a household it becomes necessary for a 
number of the daily tasks to be performed by the 
children. If these tasks are looked upon as duties, if 
they represent definitely the children’s share of the 
upkeep of the establishment, they should not be paid 
for. Nevertheless, it wTould be proper to agree upon 
a scale of payment for doing many of the necessary 
chores. But in that case, the child should have the 
option of not doing the assigned work when he feels 
that it is not worth his while. Otherwise the payment 
for work is merely a pretext for compelling the child 
to do work. At the same time, the child should not be 
free to perform his tasks some days, and leave them 
out at will. If he makes up his mind that he can use 
his time to better advantage, he may abandon the ar- 
rangement entirely, but he must not use the oppor- 
tunity to earn money as a convenience entirely de- 
tached from the responsibility of regularity or uni- 
formity. 
Many parents see in the plan of paying children for 
work, the danger that whenever a child is asked to do 
something, he may make it the occasion for exacting 
payment. This danger is more apparent than real. 
On the contrary, should such occasions arise, they 
should be utilized as the most favorable opportunities 
for explaining to the children that there are some 
things for which we pay, and others which we do for 
each other without getting any pay. Of course, CHILDREN AND MONEY 
317 
parents should be clear in their own minds as to what 
their standards are in these matters. 
The amounts paid to a child can not, of course, be 
accurately gauged to the value of his services. But 
they should not be excessive, for then one of the chief 
advantages of working for pay would be entirely lost. 
On the other hand, if the pay is too low, the child will 
soon find it out, and his mind will dream of the riches 
he could accumulate if he only quit school and went to 
work as errand boy in some store or office! 
For many people ideas of financial relations and 
responsibilities are completely warped by the failure 
to experience during childhood a definite policy in 
these matters. Instead of haphazard giving, there 
should be a definite schedule of payments and allow- 
ances. 
When children come to have money with which to 
buy things for themselves, we are usually tempted not 
only to guide them, but to regulate them. Now while 
guidance is a good thing, too much regulation is likely 
to defeat its own ends. It is so easy to spend money 
foolishly; and we wish to save the children from folly. 
But it is only by spending money both foolishly and 
wisely that the child can ever learn to know the dif- 
ference. It is only by having experience with both 
kinds of spending that he can come to choose intelli- 
gently. It is more important, in his early years, 
to teach the child how to spend his money than to 
make sure that he has spent it well. He will have 
more to spend later on, and the lessons will be worth 
more than the advantage of the early protection against 318 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
unwise purchases. Caution and advice are to be given, 
of course; but like many other good things, they should 
be given in moderation. 
Even in the matter of learning to save, it is better 
to begin by spending. By spending trifling amounts 
as fast as they are obtained, children come to realize 
the limitations of a penny or two. By occasionally 
omitting an expenditure and thus acquiring the power 
to purchase more satisfying objects, the child may 
acquire sufficient ability to project himself into the 
future for the purpose of saving for more and more 
valuable things. There is no virtue in saving that 
comes from putting the pennies in the bank through 
force of a habit formed under the compulsion of penal- 
ties imposed arbitrarily from without. The child 
should learn to save through the experience of advan- 
tage gained by making sacrifices in the present for a 
prospective return in the future. 
In households that do not manifest through their 
activities and conversation the methods by which the 
family income is obtained, children should be explicitly 
informed on the subject. It is not only embarrassing 
to the child to display his ignorance when comparing 
notes with other children, but it is a necessary part of 
his understanding of the world to know just how people 
obtain the precious tokens by means of which they 
secure all their necessities and extras. UNCONTROLLED CHILD INFLUENCES 
It was a blood-curdling yell that came from the 
nursery and paralyzed everybody for a moment. And 
with the sobbing that succeeded immediately, the mother 
started for the children’s room, the rest following ap- 
prehensively. Howard had hold of one end of the 
clothesline, the other end being tangled up about the 
neck and arms of weeping and protesting Louise. Be- 
tween sobs the girl complained that brother had nearly 
choked her. And when there was a chance to get an 
additional word in, the boy explained that they had only 
been playing, and that he had not meant to hurt sister. 
The children were soon disentangled, and duly ad- 
monished not to play such dangerous games again. 
Howard was penitent and downcast; and Louise cast 
about for sympathy. But mother had to come out with 
the question that she had kept back with difficulty 
through the whole affair. What ever made the child 
think of doing such an awful thing? 
“ Why, mother,” said Howard, sensing a possible 
vindication in the historic sequence, “ we were playing 
what we saw at the moving pictures.” 
This was more disquieting than ever, since it aroused 
suspicion of secret attendance upon the forbidden 
amusement parlors. Mother and father had agreed 
that the children were not to see any moving pictures, 
except such as had been strictly censored, first by the 
319 320 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
regular agencies, and then bj some member of the 
family. And so far as mother knew, the children had 
actually attended only three or four moving picture 
shows, of a perfectly harmless kind, and always in 
the company of some other member of the household. 
She therefore asked at once, “ When did you see 
anything like that at the moving pictures? ” 
“ This afternoon, on the corner of the avenue,” came 
the reply. 
That looked bad, for mother knew that the children 
were supposed to be in the park with the maid during 
the afternoon. Who took them to the show? Where 
did they get the money? Who gave them permission 
to go? For a minute the exposure of a scandalous plot 
was imminent. But there was nothing to it. The 
children had never gone to the moving picture show 
without the approval of the parents, and the ones they 
had witnessed stood out distinctly and innocuously in 
their memories. What Howard had seen was merely 
the array of posters in front of the picture parlor, and 
there was nothing in law or morals to prevent a boy 
drinking deep from this fountain of inspiration. 
Now that she came to think of it, Mrs. Heath had 
noticed those posters, and had often remarked how 
fortunate they had been in keeping the children away 
from the undoubtedly demoralizing influences of the 
performances that those posters were attempting to 
suggest. But it had never occurred to her that the 
posters suggested quite enough to the imagination of 
the children, so that the actual performance was en- 
tirely superfluous. Indeed, with the censorship that UNCONTROLLED CHILD INFLUENCES 
321 
is being maintained through the cooperation of pri- 
vate agencies with the manufacturers of the movie 
films, the reels presented in most moving picture par- 
lors are comparatively free from danger; whereas the 
posters are in most cases more lurid and more sug- 
gestive than the pictures inside. 
Within a few weeks Howard and Louise, and thou- 
sands of other children whose careful parents keep 
them away from the demoralizing effects of crude melo- 
drama, were able to gloat on highly colored pictures 
representing: 
A man choking a woman, the latter holding a dagger. 
A woman choking a man, the latter holding a 
revolver. 
A lynching party leading a man with a rope about 
his neck. 
A veiled figure pushing a man from the edge of a 
precipice. 
Masked men sawing the timbers on a railroad bridge. 
A woman pouring the 'contents of a suspicious-look- 
ing bottle into a glass of liquor. 
And many others equally suggestive of violence and 
fraud and deceit. Where there is a “ change of bill 
every day ” you get a large assortment of suggestions 
in a given time; but in all cases you get enough to stir 
the imagination of active youngsters. 
Mrs. Heath, like so many other careful mothers, 
had tried hard to protect her children against the many 
degrading influences that every large city holds. She 
had tried the method of exclusion in relation to the 
home. By keeping improper books and pictures out 322 
THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
of the house, and by keeping the children away from 
improper picture shows, she had hoped to solve the 
problem—for her own children. 
Now she realized that the forces acting upon the 
development of children cannot be controlled by house 
rules, or kept out by doors and shutters. Offensive 
comic supplements, so-called, may be kept out of the 
house; but that does not insure the children against 
becoming acquainted with them the next day in the park 
or school. Objectionable theatrical performances or 
moving pictures are fortunately confined to restricted 
habitats; but the poster flaunts its crude or insidious 
suggestions where none can escape them. 
It is futile to search for someone to blame for the 
comic supplement or for the vicious posters. We are 
all to blame, and we are none to blame. We cannot 
today think of improving our conditions by isolating 
ourselves from others. Whatever we have of civiliza- 
tion is a product of the integration of populations and 
of the exchange of ideas and'services. But as we do 
come to live in more closely integrated groups for the 
advantages we may derive from our neighbors, we 
expose ourselves also to a variety of more or less injuri- 
ous influences. 
On the physical side, it is living in cities and com- 
municating with strangers that has made possible the 
advance of medical science; and it is living in close 
touch with others that makes possible epidemics of in- 
fectious disease. When we come to a realization of 
the nature of such diseases, we shall no longer attempt 
to protect our own children by some process of separa- UNCONTROLLED CHILD INFLUENCES 
323 
tion from the community; we shall at the same time 
realize that the problem is not that of the particular 
home, but one for the whole community to attack. Or 
rather, the home problem cannot be solved except in 
cooperation with other homes. We see this in connec- 
tion with the protection of our children’s food supply 
against sophistication or against the introduction of 
injurious materials, or against possible contamination. 
We see this in connection with our children’s physical 
safety in the street, or in travel. We see it in connec- 
tion with the physical conditions that surround them 
while in school. 
On the mental and on the moral sides, no less than 
on the physical, it becomes increasingly difficult, if not 
eventually impossible, for the home to solve its own 
problems, except in joint effort with others. The con- 
ditions that surround the play of children no longer 
permit us to mind our own business in the hope that all 
will be well, unless we are in a position to establish for 
our children an artificial environment under constant 
supervision of reliable people. Not one family in a 
thousand is in a position to do this, even if it were 
thought desirable. In education, we cannot conduct 
our scientific experiments upon which the effectiveness 
of our school must in the end rest, except with the 
cooperation of thousands of homes through public or 
endowed agencies. 
The moral influences of the stores, as they show 
themselves in the display of merchandise, in the 
“ raffles ” for trifles dear to the heart of the child, in 
the gambling devices frequently associated with slot- THE CHILD AND SOCIETY 
machines for selling chewing gum or candy, are beyond 
the control of the individual family. The tone of the 
newspapers and of the magazines, the amusements 
offered by the theaters and the commercial dance halls, 
etc., must either be avoided at the cost to the child of 
valuable social and emotional experiences or they must 
be controlled by the good sense of the community ex- 
pressed through some joint enterprise in regulation. 
People do not manufacture and sell obscene postal 
cards for the deliberate purpose of corrupting your 
child, but for the same reason that other people manu- 
facture and sell cheap jewelry or expensive engravings. 
It is a part of the commercial life of the day, and our 
effort to protect the children against these and other 
untoward influences must be directed to the roots of 
the evils and not to the blossoms. 
This is the day of the child. We are becoming pain- 
fully conscious of the shortcomings in the opportuni- 
ties we are providing the child for his full and healthy 
development. We find in the home an increasing num- 
ber of problems, related to the child, that call for our 
serious attention. But again and again we come upon 
the significant fact that with all our efforts confined to 
the home, we are permitting outside influences to coun- 
teract all that we are trying to do. We are awaking 
to the complexity of our own relations in the com- 
munity into which we are training our children, and of 
the far reach of even the lesser factors of modern life. 
When we see clearly that in the rearing of children it 
is impossible for the parent to solve his problems by 
himself, the day of the child will be full upon us. INDEX 
A 
Abilities, estimating, 83 
Accomplishments, 198 
Activities, 183, 272 
Adams, John, 82 
Addams, Jane, 122 
Adolescence, hobbies of, 75 
Adventure, craving for, 151 
Allen, Mrs. Annie Winsor, 88 
Allowance, 314 
Ambitions, adolescent, 71; pa- 
rental, 79 
American children, 289 
Anger, 259 
Animals. See Pets 
Apologies to children, 14 
Appreciation of effort, 207 
Approval, 24, 68 
Arbiter, parent as, 241 
Arbitrariness, 278 
Art teachers, 201 
Arts, 198 
Authority, 12; conflict of, 247; 
delegated, 245, 247 
Average, meaning of, 51 
Average child, 49 
B 
Bad, being, 225 
Barnes, Earl, 245 
Beecher, Henry Ward, 81 
Blocks, 187 
Books, 192; moral value, 196; 
see also Reading 
Boys, Girls and, 55; society 
and, 293 
Bugaboos and friends, 306 
C 
Calendars, 207 
Candy, 87 
Changing child, 67 
Character, as habit, 167; habits 
and, 177; ideals and, 178; 
natnre of, 176 
Child, average, 49; day of the, 
3; early years, 67; knowing 
the nature of, 20; spoiled, 67; 
unfinished, 67; wondering, 91 
Circus, 85 
Co-education, 58 
Collecting, 104 
Commands, 120 
Community regulation, 322 
Company, 33 
Comstock, Mrs., 206 
Concentration, 120 
Conduct, judging, 229 
Contests, 145 
Conversation, making, 92 
Creative impulse, 207 
Criticisms of persons, 98 
Cruelty, 25, 72; combating, 112 
Curiosity, 68, 91, 113 
D 
Dabbling, 75 
Dance, 85 
Darwin, Charles, 80 
Dentists, 307 
Differences in children, 47, 54 
Discipline, 102, 161, 162, 254; 
interest and, 274 
Discretion, 173, 175 
Discrimination, learning, 78, 
163, 312 
Disposition, health and, 29 
Disrespect, 290, 291 
Dolls and doll’s houses, 188, 
190 
Don’t, 161, 163 
Dramatization, 135, 212 
325 326 
INDEX 
Drawing, 199 
Dreaming dreams, 73, 74 
E 
Eating, 41 
Efforts, appreciation of, 207. 
Emerson, R. W., 286 
Encouragement and neglect, 233 
Equity among brothers and sis- 
ers, 237 
Example and precept, 96 
Exceptions, 171, 172 
Excitement, 33, 35 
F 
Fatigue, 37, 118 
Fear, 118 
Feeding, forcible, 41 
Feminization, 60 
Fighting, 146, 294; boys, 127; 
girls, 131; substitutes, 143 
Flies, killing, 114 
Forbidden things, 159, 161 
Force, 146 
Frankness, 131 
Freedom of speech for children, 
289 
Friends, children’s, 110 
Friendships, 293; children’s, 
297 
G 
Galahad, Sir, 71, 72 
Games, 111, 212; indoor and 
outdoor, 190 
Gangs, 57, 129, 293 
Girls fighting, 131; outlook, 61; 
training for work, 62, 63 
Girls and boys, 55 
Good, being, 225 
Good manners. See Manners 
Goodness, buying, 261 
Governess, 248 
Grant, Ulysses S., 82 
Griggs, Edward Howard, 14 
Groups. See Gang; Team play 
Guidance, 163 
Gum chewing, 171 
H 
Habits, 254, 262; breaking 171; 
early training, 169; fixing, 
171; formation, 167; relation 
to character, 177 
Health, disposition and, 29 
Henderson, C. H., 287 
Henry, Patrick, 81 
Hobbies, 75, 219 
Honor, false sense of, 129 
Hopes, parental, 80 
I 
Ideals, 168, 178; passing, 71 
Imitation, 96, 135 
Impudence, 289 
Inattention, 38, 120 
Indirection, cultivating, 131 
Individuality, 51 
Industry, habits of, 101, 277 
Influence, 299 
Influences, uncontrolled, 319 
Initiative, 151 
Instincts, attitude toward, 143 
Intellect, development of, 176 
Interest, 77, 184, 274 
Interruptions, 121 
J 
Justice to children, 238, 241 
K 
Kerr, Rev. Hugh T., 310 
Knowledge, danger of too little, 
20 
L 
Lateness, 218 
Laziness, 100 
Leading and driving, 275 
Leadership, 84 
Libraries, 197 
Loyalty, 298 
Lying, 96 
M 
Making faces, 132 
Management of children, 251 INDEX 
Manners, boys and girls, 285; 
home influence, 287, 290 
Marriage, preparing girls for, 
62 
Mice, at play, 159 
Military toys, 135 
Miser, the young, 104 
Mistakes, 12 
Money, 107; allowance, 314; 
children and, 310; saving, 
318; spending, 317; teaching 
value of, 312 
Monotony, 152, 158 
Moral and immoral, 26, 231 
Mother, as companion, 9, 10; as 
teacher, 8 
Moving pictures, 152, 319 
Music, 198, 199 
N 
Nature, 5, 6 
Neglect, 234 
Nervous days, 3 
“No,” saying, 278 
Nurse, 248 
O 
Obedience, 118, 120 
Obstinacy, 116 
Older children, 245 
Only boy or only girl, 237 
Order, 105 
P 
Painting, 198, 199 
Parents vs. teachers, 30 
Parents’ absence, 159 
Parties, 211 
Patriotism, 135, 144 
Pay, 310, 313, 316 
Perfection, parental, 12 
Persons, girls influenced by, 56 
Pets, death of, 108; keeping, 
113, 203 
Physicians, 308 
Pictures, 201 
Play, 102, 136; organized, 5 
Plays, 212, 213 
Policemen, 306 
Politeness, 117, 177, 286 
Poor children, 157 
Posters, vicious, 320 
Praise and blame, 47, 231, 232 
Precept and example, 96 
Precocity, 82 
Prejudice, 140 
Prigs, 227 
Pugnacity, 127 
Punishment, 20; children’s 
views, 245, 258; natural 
method, 251; principles of, 
256 
Q 
Questions, answering, 93, 140; 
asking, 91 
R 
Reading, 152, 153 
Repetitions, 170 
Responsibility, 86, 163, 246 
Rest, need of, 37 
Restlessness, 37, 151, 153 
Restraint, 159 
Retaliation, 256, 258 
Retiring, 219 
Rewards, 261 
Ridicule, 73; of games, etc., 
110 
Rivalry, 145 
Rocking, 169 
Rolling stone, 77 
Routine, 174 
Rules and exceptions, 172 
Running away, 151, 291 
S 
Sacrifices for children, 16 
Sarcasm, 109 
Saving, 104, 318 
Scatterbrains, 120 
School, 301 
Selfishness and sacrifice, 16 
Sensibility of the child, 108, 
141 
Sex, association with the oppo- 
site, 58; differences, 55, 56; 
instruction on, 205 328 
INDEX 
Shyness, 155 
Sickness, 308 
Sleep, 40 
Society, boys’ taste for, 293 
Soldier, playing, 135, 144 
Specialization, 219, 222 
Specialized interests, 82, 83 
Spelling, 49 
Spending, 317 
Spiritual, 231 
Spoiled child, 233, 277 
Spontaneity, 151; child’s chance 
for, 155, 162 
Stead, Wm. T., 130 
Stevenson, Augusta, 213 
Struggle, 147 
Stubbornness, 120 
Submissiveness of girls, 132 
Sulks, 29, 31 
Sunday supplements, 194, 322 
T 
Taste, 110, 201 
Teachers, mothers as, 8; parents 
and, 301 
Team play, 145, 294 
Temptations, 259; grading the 
child’s, 85 
Time, measuring, 215; wasting, 
269 
Time and place, 266 
Time sense, 217 
Timidity, 155 
Tired business man, 219 
Tiredness, 37 
Toys, 183; construction, 189; 
mechanical, 183, 191; pur- 
pose of, 185; selecting, 186 
Travel, 154 
Trifles, 109 
Troubles, 108 
Truancy, 20 
Trust, excessive, 88 
Truthfulness, 97 
V 
Visions, 192 
W 
Wander, impulse to, 151 
Wants, 270 
War, children and, 139; play- 
ing, 135 
Watch, 215 
Watchful waiting, 79 
Wills, conflict of, 116 
Woman’s work, 64 
Work, dignity of, 103; for girls 
and women, 62, 63; organiz- 
ing, 102 
Workshops, 5 
Y 
Youngest child, 233, 235 By DOROTHY CANFIELD FISHER 
Author of The Squirrel-Cage, Hillsboro People, etc. 
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