novel sight. Some pretence of work was maintained for fifteen minutes
until the two were ordered down from their seats.

The results were not satisfactory. The children felt somewhat insulted
at this form of punishment, at the same time some of them wanted to star
as the object of general attention.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

The best remedies for noises of this sort are intense drive on
interesting work, and indifference to the noise, if there is an apparent
concerted movement to annoy the teacher.

In case you find it needful to speak privately to any pupil, assume that
his motives are good all the way through and that he would like to lay
his pencil down properly. Perhaps the following words will be
appropriate:

“I see you have some difficulty in keeping your pencil. My own desk has
a slant and sometimes gives me trouble on that account. If we will lay
our pencils down carefully in the groove, they will surely stay where
they belong.”

COMMENTS

For these minor noises it seems safe to recommend for children in any
grade the methods just outlined. Nothing is surer to provoke disrespect
for a teacher than excessive attention to small annoyances. On the other
hand the best remedy for these trifling troubles is plenty of hard work.

In nearly every instance the noisy pupil is not a vicious child, but an
active child. Let us recall how eagerly children produce interminable
noises of all sorts when left to their own devices—banging, whistling,
drumming, screeching noises. In school hours the noise-hunger takes
secondary place. The pleasure of creating a sensation is the chief cause
of the annoyance.

ILLUSTRATION (FIFTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Experiments]

Miss Miller came into a very noisy fifth grade room, where the pupils
were good-natured and docile, but unused to orderly methods and
untrained in self-control. She won their liking at the outset by her
courtesy and her real mastery of her teaching subjects; therefore she
found herself in a good position, after the first fortnight of
establishing her authority, to attack her great problem of reducing the
school-room routine to quietness and economy of nerve-force.

“I want you to help me make an experiment,” she said one day. “Yesterday
was a rainy day, and we had more than the usual amount of noise, I
think. You spent the whole of your twenty minutes in studying your
mental arithmetic, and yet you made eighty-two mistakes out of a total
of one hundred thirty questions; I kept count carefully. That was too
many by far, wasn’t it? I tried to think how we could bring up our bad
record, and I decided that we make too much noise in study hour. So I
thought we would experiment, and see if we can get our arithmetic better
when we are quiet. I’m going to select ten pupils today, and let them go
off by themselves in quiet places to study by themselves. Who wants to
go? And the rest of us here will be as quiet as we can be, and we’ll see
what the effect will be on our lessons.”

The children were eager for the novelty of an “experiment,” and of
course it proved to them, as Miss Miller planned it should, that
quietness brings better lessons and that they are learned in less time.

“I wonder if we can reduce the time spent on our arithmetic lesson to
fifteen minutes, and thus have five minutes more for our music, or for
the story hour?” she said. “Of course, we shall need to have the room
very quiet, to do that. Who can suggest ways in which we can control the
noise during study hours?”

Many suggestions came from the children. “We can remember not to move
our feet around after we have placed them on the floor.” “At home, when
baby is asleep, mother has us walk on tiptoe if we have to cross the
room.” “We can have it quiet if everybody makes up his mind not to
whisper once.” “I keep dropping my pencil on the floor, and I’ve thought
of a way to stop that. I’m going to have a string on it and fasten it to
my buttonhole, and then if it does drop it can’t reach the floor and
make a clatter.”

Miss Miller suggested other ways, and they made a list of them on the
blackboard, so as to keep them all in mind. Under the teacher’s
sympathetic leadership, there ensued a campaign to eliminate noise from
study hours. Without mentioning it, Miss Miller enlarged the scope of
their efforts to include quieter ways of passing materials, walking
about the room, and putting away books. Mutual imitation strengthened
the movement; just as these pupils had before imitated the thoughtless,
careless, noisy way of doing things, now they imitated a thoughtful,
controlled method of accomplishing results. What mischievous noise there
had been disappeared automatically through the force of public opinion;
for when the room as a whole saw the results of a quiet regime, saw that
it brought them more time for the recreational part of the school
program, a prejudice against unnecessary noise developed which rendered
the maker thereof unpopular.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Do not treat noise as a crime. Consider it a disease, or rather a lack
of development, a failure to acquire a desirable skill. Follow this
plan:

  1. Show that quiet is really a desirable thing for the pupils
       themselves—too often they have an idea that it is merely a cranky
       demand of the teacher’s, with which, of course, being healthy
       young animals, they have little sympathy.

  2. In a spirit of coöperation, devise and clarify means of securing
       quiet habits. Show the pupils how to lift their feet in walking,
       do not simply command them to walk quietly. If pencils fall, have
       them tied. Teach pupils how to handle books, pencils, tablets (in
       really up-to-date schools the dirty, noisy slates are no longer
       used) and erasers, so as to minimize the chances of their falling
       on the floor. If pupils fall noisily into their seats, show them
       how well-bred men and women sit. They will never learn anything
       more valuable than these lessons in good manners, even if an
       occasional spelling lesson has to be sacrificed for them.

Not infrequently it happens that what, on the face of it, appears to be
bad manners or impatience, is really due to pathological nervousness. In
such a case the teacher has a further duty than the mere teaching of
good manners.

The impatient child is but a nervous child. Nervous children often spill
and drop things and are easily excited. What will tend to control and
quiet one condition will control and quiet the other. Firmness will be
needed in either case.

Find out the cause of the pupil’s nervousness if possible and seek to
remove that cause. You may need to speak to the parent. Approach him or
her in a kind spirit which the parent can not possibly mistake. Suggest
that you noticed some point about the child’s behavior at school which
perhaps the parent had not as yet observed. Be very careful not to
exaggerate any statement—instead be very conservative. For example,
after commenting on some good point about Mary, say something like this:
“I have noticed that Mary is beginning to show just a little nervousness
at times and I thought you would appreciate it if I would tell you. I
wondered if she might have eaten too much candy or too many rich things,
or whether she might have failed to get enough sleep.”

This method will bring about the coöperation of the mother, who will do
all in her power to help you with the child. You can, in the course of
your conversation with the mother, incidentally remark that you have
always found that a daily warm bath, plenty of rest, some exercise, and
plenty of fresh air will generally make a pupil feel like himself or
herself again. Avoid the suggestion that the nervousness is at all
serious with this child; assume, rather, that this is just a little time
in which the pupil is not feeling as well as usual.

At school, see to it that the nervous child gets plenty of exercise on
the playground and plenty of fresh air in the school-room. It is also
very important that you say pleasing things to the nervous child, words
which have a soothing effect. Even strain a point to approve the work
which the pupil does. Faultfinding will unnerve a child more quickly
than almost anything else. So be very patient and encourage the pupil
even more than you would an ordinary child. The impatient child tends to
get through with his work before other children do. The teacher should
always have at hand some pictures, picture books, boxes of curios,
colored pencils, stencils, colored blocks, building blocks and many
other things that interest children in primary grades. But whatever the
grade of the nervous child, avoid so far as possible all sources of
irritation; never lose a chance to commend effort; let your attitude
toward him be one of sympathy.

(9) _Cleanly habits and care of school-room._ Every first grade teacher
knows what it is to have one or more pupils who are disposed to be
uncleanly. This condition can not be termed a misdemeanor. It is more.
It is both annoying and unsanitary. What is still worse is that the
situation is not one of the child’s own choice, but it is due to
circumstances in the home; and too often, any measure that is taken to
reform the child gives offense to the parents. If parents do not know
what cleanliness really is, how can they teach it to their children?

Appeal to personal pride. This can be done without the pupils knowing
that the teacher is making an effort in that direction. The teacher may
give a talk about a clean school-room and incidentally say:

“Cleanly _pupils_ live in cleanly school-rooms. I am proud of all my
boys and girls when they keep their clothes and themselves clean.”

She can give some little talk about cleanliness each day for several
weeks and in a casual manner make the application to the pupils. By thus
appealing to their pride most cases of uncleanness will be remedied.

In very stubborn cases the teacher can have a private talk with the
pupil. Should there be more than one such pupil, the teacher must not
make the mistake of talking to both at one time; that would humiliate
each, and hurt the pride of both.

To the little boy who is in the habit of keeping his face and hands
soiled, the teacher may say:

“You have such red cheeks, Harold! What silky hair and what lovely
little hands you have! I like to see hair like yours combed this way!”
and then she can comb the little boy’s hair in an attractive way.

“How I do like to see red cheeks like yours, round and clean!” Then the
teacher can kindly wash the child’s face and hands and comment on how
fine they look. With a little straightening of the boy’s collar she may
say, “Oh, Harold, how sweet you look!” If she has a small mirror she may
let the boy see himself. Finally, she may propose that he do this each
morning before he comes to school. To please the boy she may say:

“Now, I am going to walk home with you because you look so fine.”

On the way home she should talk about the things they see. When she
comes to the home, she may bid the boy a cheery “Good night, Harold.”
Should she see flowers in the yard she may say:

“Harold, when you come to school tomorrow, I wish you would bring me one
of those flowers to wear on my waist.” Harold will bring the flower, and
the teacher should wear it with great pride. A teacher who will do this
can win any dirty little urchin to her and often induce him to make
every effort to keep clean. Several such private lessons may be
necessary.

As a last resort, but not wholly advisable, because it irritates and
offends the parents often, is the method of having a talk with parents
and explaining to them that they are expected to keep their children
clean. One teacher who had a few stubborn cases of uncleanliness,
purchased a wash basin, some soap, and several towels. Whenever the
pupils that were habitually uncleanly came in she had them wash their
faces and hands and comb their hair. She had little trouble, but not
every teacher could do this.

CASE 78 (SECOND GRADE)

[Sidenote: Soiled Face]

Miss Gebhard had been teaching in the Lowell School for a week. Every
one of the five days little Hazel Jordan had been a blemish to the group
of beautiful children with whom she associated. Hazel was ugly of face,
ungainly in movements, dull of intellect and unaccustomed to the regular
use of soap and water. This was Miss Gebhard’s first year of teaching.
She had read that teachers must see to it that their pupils have clean
hands and faces. During her first week she was so busy with organizing
her school that she felt unable to cope with lesser problems. As she
reviewed her week’s work and recalled the characteristics of her various
pupils, she said to herself, “That little Jordan girl must be made
cleaner next week.”

Accordingly, on Monday morning when Hazel entered with dirty hands, face
and clothing, Miss Gebhard said, “Hazel Jordan, go home and wash your
hands and face and come back here clean.”

Perfect stillness reigned over the school-room for a moment after this
command was given, and Hazel, eyeing Miss Gebhard as she went, passed
out of the room and ran breathlessly home.

Now, Hazel’s mother was a widow who washed so much for other people that
she had neither time nor strength to care for her own children; besides,
Hazel had few dresses, and on this Monday morning all of them were
soiled. When the child reached home and told Mrs. Jordan what Miss
Gebhard had said, her mother wept in self-pity.

“Nobody cares how hard I work,” she wailed; “all the notice I get is to
be insulted. You just stay home from school and I’ll go and see Tom
Ellis and ask him if a widow has got to dress her children up fine
before she can send them to public school.”

As soon as the washing she was then doing was “on the line,” she went to
see Mr. Ellis, a member of the school board, and told him that Hazel had
been sent home from school because she wasn’t dressed up to suit the
teacher.

Miss Gebhard was a little alarmed because Hazel did not return, and was
agitated when she saw Mr. Ellis, the most influential member of the
school board, standing in the doorway of her school-room. All of the
pupils stared while Mr. Ellis catechized Miss Gebhard as to why she sent
Hazel Jordan home. In vain she explained that she said nothing about her
clothes. She could see that Mr. Ellis thought she had acted unwisely, as
he reiterated, “Her mother’s a hard-working widow, you know, and her
feelings are hurt.”

It seemed clear to Miss Gebhard that she had blundered. She called upon
Mrs. Jordan, who wept at her own poverty and seemed unlikely to be able
to distinguish between cleanliness and richness of dress.

Miss Gebhard decided that the matter of cleanliness was too difficult
for her to handle and made no further recommendations on the subject
during the year.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Examine the hands and faces of several other children before inspecting
Hazel. If more than one needs to wash his hands, send all to the
lavatory, or to the pump, and ask them to return to the school-room
clean.

COMMENTS

If children are spoken to kindly about the condition of their hands and
several are sent at once to wash, they will take less offense. It will
seem then a matter of school-room practice rather than a personal
affront.

Drills or plays are often used to bring about habits of cleanliness.

ILLUSTRATION (FIRST GRADE)

[Sidenote: “Sanitary Brigade”]

Miss Barry organized her first grade room into a “Sanitary Brigade.”
Every one’s own ten fingers were the private soldiers over which each
one’s face was the captain. One child in each row, appointed by the
teacher each Monday morning, was the Lieutenant General of his row, and
Miss Barry was the Major General of them all.

Each captain inspected his ten soldiers and demanded that each one—right
and left Thumbkin, right and left Pointer, right and left Longman,
Ringman and Littleman—be perfectly clean. Then the Colonel inspected the
captains and finally the General had a grand review of all the troops.
The captains and colonels made daily inspections. If they failed to do
their work well they were sent to the ranks and new officers appointed
in their places. In other words, if one did not keep his own hands
clean, some one else was appointed to be inspector and reporter of his
hands. If any one was found with unclean hands or face, a new colonel
was appointed for the row in which that child was found.

Inspection was made every morning and any reported disorder was remedied
in the lavatory. When there was no further need of scrutiny as to clean
hands and faces and when therefore the game had lost in interest, a
similar game was instituted that required clean teeth, brushed hair, and
clean shoes.

CASE 79 (THIRD GRADE)

[Sidenote: Use of Handkerchief]

Miss Burr, the third grade teacher, sighed as Elma Colders passed her
handkerchief to her twin sister Zelma. This was a daily, almost hourly,
occurrence. The handkerchief wasn’t absolutely clean. These twins seemed
to take turns having colds, and Miss Burr believed the common
handkerchief was largely to blame for the transferred infection, but she
dared to say nothing about it.

Near to her desk sat Asa Kramer, who sniffed momentarily for want of a
handkerchief, while Fannie Black had a habit of often wiping her nose
with an upward stroke that was fast causing her nose to have a decided
skyward slant at the end.

One day she saw Morris Millspaugh repeat his habit of wiping his nose on
his coat sleeve and the following quotation popped into her head, “Ye
gods! Must I endure all this?” As if in answer to her question, Annie
Daily, in the back row, lowered her head and used the under side of the
bottom of her dress for a handkerchief.

“My query is answered,” groaned she. “Annie’s action says, ‘All this?
Ay, more!’”

Miss Burr said to a teacher friend, “If I were the family doctor of
these children, I’d be free to give their mothers a lecture on
sanitation, but since I’m not, I must keep within my prescribed field.”

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Correct these disgusting habits of your pupils. This can be done by
asking each child to bring a clean handkerchief every morning. A certain
teacher each morning asked all who received a grade of one hundred in
spelling or arithmetic the day before to stand and walk to the front of
the room. She then asked the other children _who had clean
handkerchiefs_ to give them the Chautauqua salute, and the children in
front were asked to return this salute. The children enjoyed this
immensely and demanded from their mothers clean handkerchiefs every
morning in order that they might be allowed to take part in this
exercise.

COMMENTS

Miss Burr was wrong to conclude that it was not her business to protect
the health of her pupils.

There were several beneficial results accompanying the Chautauqua salute
program described above. Those who did good work were rewarded and those
who cheered them were given drill in the hard task of praising their
fellows who had succeeded where they themselves had failed.

This salute was given in the morning, so that all handkerchiefs would be
clean for it.

[Sidenote: Enlist the Mothers]

Teachers can do no better than tactfully to enlist the aid of mothers in
matters of cleanliness.

ILLUSTRATION (FOURTH GRADE)

Miss Shaw, who taught the fourth grade in a very poor district in New
York City, organized a mothers’ meeting to convene alternate Fridays
after school hours. At one of these meetings she asked a trained nurse
to talk about cleanliness especially.

After the nurse had clearly explained the danger of infection in the
care of the nose, a mother who was a good shopper was delegated to take
orders for handkerchiefs from all present who needed them for their
children, to buy by the dozen and to deliver to the mothers at cost.

By teaching and helping the mothers in this way, Miss Shaw bettered
conditions in her own room and established a wholesome community spirit
among her patrons.

CASE 80 (FIFTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Decaying Teeth]

Something was the matter with Dora Payne. Miss Hubbart, her teacher, was
astonished at her stupid answers and generally inattentive attitude.
Usually Dora was alert and smiling; today she was morose, even to
tearfulness. Miss Hubbart finally said, “What is the matter, Dora?”

“My tooth aches,” said Dora.

“Did it ever ache before?”

“Yes, it ached last week and mamma took me to the dentist.”

“Charlotte, you may go with Dora to the dentist to see if he can stop
her toothache,” said Miss Hubbart.

The girls were gone only about half an hour, for it was but a few blocks
to the office of the only dentist in the village. After they came back
Dora was relieved and went on with her school work as usual.

When Miss Hubbart returned to the schoolhouse for the afternoon session
that day, she was greeted by Mr. Payne, Dora’s father, who said:

“Dora says you sent her to Dr. Hammond’s office today.”

“Yes, she was suffering with toothache.”

“What I want to know is, who is going to pay the bill?”

“Surely you wouldn’t want Dora to suffer with toothache.”

“That tooth has troubled Dora before and my wife took her to Dr. Hammond
and he said that she’d lose this tooth in a year or so, and we concluded
not to have it worked on. When she gets her last set of teeth it will
not be money thrown away to have them filled.”

“But you wouldn’t want Dora to suffer for a year, surely.”

“Maybe we know how to take care of our own child without the help of a
stranger. I’ll thank you to keep on your own ground after this.” And Mr.
Payne stalked away with anger showing even in his walk.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

When you feel assured that, from a health standpoint, a child is unfit
to do school work, send him home and as soon as possible thereafter
consult with his mother as to his health, giving advice only when you
see that his parents are ignorant or neglectful.

In the matter of the care of the mouth and teeth, give instruction as to
the age a child should be when the several kinds of permanent teeth
appear. Name the causes of decay of teeth and show children how to use
their tooth brushes to the best advantage.

COMMENTS

[Sidenote: Rhythmic Drills]

Teachers should never send children to a doctor without the consent of
their parents. A teacher’s help can be rendered in instituting
preventive measures better than in administering or advising curative
remedies. The harm done to the teeth by allowing them to decay through
the use of improper food, also the proper use of the tooth brush, and
the value of a sterilizing mouth wash can easily be taught and come
within the teacher’s legitimate province. In many towns she may also
secure the coöperation of the school nurse.

ILLUSTRATION (FIFTH GRADE)

Miss Stow, who taught the fifth grade at Deadwood, made up this motion
song which the children sang occasionally, suiting the proper motions to
each verse:

                 This is the way we brush our teeth
                   At morning, noon and night,
                 Keeping them free from food and germs,
                   Making them clean and white.

                 This is the way we brush our hair,
                   Making it smooth and clean,
                 Keeping it free from kinks and dust
                   And beautiful to be seen.

                 This is the way we brush our shoes,
                   Making them fairly shine,
                 Then we ever shun dirt and mud
                   And keep them looking fine.

When they sang the first verse she let them hold lead pencils in front
of their mouths for tooth brushes and had them make the up and down
motion that dentists recommend.

She noticed a marked improvement in the personal habits of her children
after they had learned this song, and they very much enjoyed singing it.

CASE 81 (FOURTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Scattering Paper]

Merrill MacFarland was elected to a position as teacher of the fourth
grade after three years of experience in the country schools. He had
found the circumstances in his former situation very unsatisfactory, and
resolved that since he was entering upon work in a graded school, he
would have some things different. Looking over the room after he had
wrestled his way through the first week, and recalling the events of the
past five days, he was strongly reminded of his former school
experience, since there was really a disgraceful amount of waste paper
all over the floor. The janitor had been complaining about the matter,
but MacFarland had been too busy with other matters to give attention to
it.

Monday morning, after the opening exercises, he made this announcement:

“Now, I want every one of you boys and girls just the moment you have a
piece of waste paper in your hand to go to the wastebasket and throw it
in. Last Friday our room was a perfect disgrace. On every desk there
were slips of torn-up paper and some whole sheets. We can’t get along
this way. George, you just this moment dropped a piece of paper in the
aisle there at your left. Pick it up at once and put it in the
wastebasket as I just told you.” George noisily moved his slow frame
according to the order, hardly imagining what would be the case if the
teacher’s idea were literally carried out and no more waste papers were
thrown upon the floor.

As soon as he had reached the basket, Mr. MacFarland discovered that
there were several pieces of paper on the floor in different parts of
the room, and said, “Each one look about his desk now and see if there
is any rubbish on the floor that should be taken away. If so, pick it up
at once and throw it into the basket as I told you. This is the thing to
do at any time when you want to throw something away.”

It need hardly be said that, with a great bustle, each one made the
desired search, and about nine pupils soon were on their way to the
basket with something or almost nothing that needed to be thrown away.

However unsatisfactory the noisy method had proved, it did bring about
the condition desired, for at the end of the day there was really
nothing that needed to be complained of regarding the cleanliness of the
room, so far as waste paper was concerned.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

A wise teacher does not make so much ado about one aspect of school-room
management. Mr. MacFarland could easily have foreseen that he was
introducing another evil along with his reform. Reverse the process.
Arrange that the wastebasket be passed around mid-way between
intermissions according to a definite schedule. Let the passing of the
basket be a privilege that is handed down from one pupil to another
according as they are seated, beginning with the pupil who sits to the
extreme right of the teacher’s desk. One pupil each day is appointed as
guardian of waste. The privilege and honor will be appreciated, and with
a word of caution, the service can be performed with the very slightest
interruption.

The following instructions might be properly given to the children when
the new system is established:

“We are going to save time as much as possible. Four times every day we
shall pass the wastebasket and you may put into it whatever you have on
hand to be thrown away. Nothing is to be said to the person who carries
the basket. He will go quietly, promptly, passing down the aisles, doing
a favor to everyone in the room by his careful attention to this
matter.”

COMMENTS

It is of the utmost importance that the necessary organization of
school-room conduct be established according to principles and policies
that are useful to the child at home and in other situations outside of
school life. He must be taught how to economize his own time, and the
attention of his fellows, how to do necessary things in a way that shall
be both effective and unobtrusive.

While the handling of waste is a small affair for one room in a school,
taken on a larger scale for home, state and nation, the problem of waste
is big enough to command the attention of every citizen; therefore, to
dispose of the matter properly in school is a valuable lesson in civics
and economics.

ILLUSTRATION (FIFTH AND SIXTH GRADES)

Supt. Kennelworth suffered the inconvenience of moving from an old
building into the new one near the middle of a school year.

[Sidenote: Bags for Paper]

In the final plans for the proper use of the new plant, it had been
agreed that each pupil must bring with him a small waste-paper bag to be
attached to each desk. There were no very definite rules as to its size,
but the warning was given that it must not be too large for the
convenience of all concerned.

The matter was brought up only once, each teacher making the
announcement in his own room according to the superintendent’s
instructions.

Wallace Jackson made his announcement for the fifth and sixth grades as
follows: “Each one of you is to bring a small, neatly made waste-paper
bag, barely large enough to hold what you think is the waste paper that
gathers at your desk every day. Are there any questions about this?” A
hand went up and the question was asked, “Who is going to empty these
bags?”

“Well,” said Mr. Jackson, “you will empty them yourselves. Just before
the close of school each day the wastebasket will be passed; your bags
will be laid down upon your desk, and in just a very few minutes every
bag will be emptied and placed in your desk. Any more questions?”

Another hand and another question, “How are we going to decide who will
carry the basket?”

This was answered by the statement: “I shall appoint some pupil to this
task every day. The method of selection will be announced to you later.
The only matter I want now to tell you about is the making of the bags.
Further details will be given to you when we actually begin our work
next Thursday in the new building.” Owing to the fact that some success
in keeping a neat room had been attained already in the old building,
Mr. Jackson’s announcement was received without surprise or anxiety.

(10) _Imitation of wrong social standard._ There is an imitation of mere
precedent which is a sort of social instinct, that can best be handled
socially. This is because the responsibility can be fixed on no one
individual, and as all the members of the group are equally guilty, all
should share in the needed lesson.

CASE 82 (RURAL SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: Dropping Shot]

George Marston went into the country as teacher in a school in which
there had been much bad order. The directors were in earnest; they
wanted a good school, but for the salary they offered they had not been
able to secure a man who could handle the big boys who made the trouble.
They were not especially bad boys; but the tradition of mischief in the
school was so persistent that no teacher had been able to overcome it.

During the fall term there was no trouble, for then only meek little
girls and small boys attended. But on the first Monday after
Thanksgiving, corn-shucking being over, the older pupils came in an
avalanche of good-natured noise. The room, before so sparsely populated
by a few pupils, seemed to overflow with their energy. Trouble was not
long in coming, and it took the shape of a shower of fine shot, which
pattered down from the ceiling during the spelling lesson. George knew
that the hour of trial had come, and he called out bravely:

“Who did that?”

There was no response. The little girls were peeping timidly from their
books, but the big boys and girls frankly relished the coming fun.

“We may as well settle it now,” said George Marston. “We can’t have a
school without good order. Of course I want to be just, and first of all
I want to know who threw that shot. Will you tell me?”

No one spoke. Then the teacher went around the room, asking each one in
turn if he had done it. Every one denied it. There was clearly an
understanding among the pupils that gave the teacher no chance.

So Marston gave it up for the time being, and lessons were taken up
again. But at four o’clock he asked four of the leading boys, those he
suspected most, to stay after school. When the rest had gone, he
conducted an exhaustive examination, trying to find who was responsible
for the disturbance. The evidence was flippant, contradictory, mockingly
frank; but he found out nothing. Still with his idea of locating the
offense in one person, George held another trial the next night, with
the same result. Then he took the matter to the board.

“One or two persons must have thrown that shot,” he said to the board
members, “and if I can find the person who did it, and make an example
of him, then I know I can manage the school without trouble. But so far
I can’t find the offender. There doesn’t seem to be a ringleader; they
all hang together so.”

“Why can’t you find the offender?” asked one member.

“Because they all lie about it—at least there’s one person who is lying.
If only I could find that one person!”

“Why not lick them all, since they’re all mixed up in it?” This director
was a coarsely practical man.

“Because one person did the deed, and he ought to bear the punishment,”
George replied. “If I keep my eyes open and wait, in time I’ll be sure
to catch the boy that threw that shot.”

So he waited and kept his eyes open, but he never discovered the
shot-thrower. There was much more misbehavior during the days that
followed, and the struggle to keep even a semblance of order made the
term a nightmare to the harassed teacher. Little real work was
accomplished. The board, anxious to have a good school, but ignorant of
principles and methods, saw its desire come to nothing. Marston’s ideas
of discipline seemed to be centered on “making an example” of some one
offender, and the school took a mischievous satisfaction in shielding
each offender from discovery.

[Sidenote: Explosion]

The crisis came late in January. Marston had just put a full scuttle of
coal on the blazing fire in the big stove, when a sharp noise and a
great puff of smoke and flame burst from it. The explosion broke apart
the sections of the stove, and a serious fire was averted with some
difficulty. When they had made things safe and could look at each other
with smoke-grimed faces, teacher and pupils knew that a reckoning was at
hand.

“John Coffey, you brought in that coal. Did you put the gunpowder in
it?” John was fairly cool, and the reckless boys had been cowed and
sobered by the extent of the mischief that had been done.

“No, sir, I didn’t,” replied John; and his denial rang true.

“Did you, Carl?”

“No, sir.”

Marston went around the circle, as he had many times before; and all
denied their guilt. Finally Marston turned to the school.

“You may all go home now. We can’t have school until this mess is
cleaned up, of course. I shall see the board at once.”

The board decided, at a called meeting, that it would best get a new
teacher, and Marston resigned with infinite relief. The board sent to a
state normal school, explained the situation, and asked for a strong
man.

ILLUSTRATION (RURAL SCHOOL)

The president of the normal school sent them Isidor Thomberg, a man of
experience and high scholarship. He came with the understanding that the
board was to support whatever he did, and he agreed to reduce the school
to order. He was confident, fearless, and told no one of his plans. But
he did meet the board on the night of his arrival, and heard their full
account of the troubles.

The next morning school opened as usual, with the new teacher and the
new stove dividing the honors of attention. Mr. Thomberg made just one
reference to the situation:

“Of course you know why I’m here,” he said. “I want to say one thing. I
shall never waste a moment’s time trying to find out who does anything
bad. We have to make up for a great deal of lost time this winter;
you’ll have to work hard from now until spring. We shall have no school
but a good one. Now we’ll go to work.”

Under the stimulus of his quiet confidence, the order was excellent that
first day. The school needed organization, and much time was spent in
showing the pupils economical ways of doing things. While the novelty
lasted there was no tendency to disorder, and when things settled down
into a regular routine the lessons proved so interesting under Mr.
Thomberg’s teaching that the boys forgot for a time to have fun in the
old way. A fancy skating club had been organized; a new era seemed to
have dawned, when one day, quite unexpectedly, the old problem popped up
again.

A row of pupils, coming quietly forward to the recitation bench, found
themselves stepping on a number of match-heads which had been scattered
in the aisle. At the same moment Mr. Thomberg himself, who had stepped
to a window to adjust a shade, exploded two of these little
trouble-makers. Every one looked up in surprise, for bad order had been
almost forgotten.

The teacher went to his desk. Very quietly he sent the class back to
their seats. Then he told the pupils to put away all books, and they
obeyed in a dazed way, afraid of they knew not what.

“I told you when I came,” said Mr. Thomberg, “that we couldn’t have
anything but a good school. The reason that we can’t afford to have bad
order is that we have too much serious work to do. I had begun to like
you all so much that I’m sorry some one has had to spoil our pleasant
beginning. But I meant what I said. So this school is closed, now,
indefinitely. You are all, without exception, suspended from school
until further notice. You will pass out as you always do.”

There was a breathless silence. Such a thing as suspending a whole
school had never been heard of before. Mr. Thomberg gave the usual
signals, and the boys and girls passed into the hall as though they had
been at a funeral. Mr. Thomberg went to the nearest house and called the
directors by telephone for a conference, which was scarcely begun when
parents began to inquire indignantly why their children, guiltless of
dropping match-heads, had been suspended from school. Mr. Thomberg
dictated the answer:

“Tell them,” he said, “that I have no time to ferret out the doers of
silly little tricks in my school. When the school gives me the assurance
that there’ll be no more trouble, then we’ll go back to work. Whoever
dropped those match-heads thought the school liked that sort of thing,
and you must show him that he is mistaken. I am a teacher, not a
policeman.”

The parents really wanted their children in school, and guided by the
suggestion, skillfully made by the teacher, they took steps to secure
the concerted action which Mr. Thomberg knew was the remedy for the
evil. He was reading the daily paper in the living room of his boarding
house that evening, when the response for which he had planned came.
There were seventeen of his twenty-six pupils in the party which called
on him. One of the older boys, Felix Curry, was spokesman.

“We came to ask you if you’d have us in school again,” he said. “All our
fathers and mothers want us to go back, and we’ll be good if you’ll let
us. The boy that threw the match-heads will tell you about it himself.
He told us he would.”

“There is no need of that, although he may do so privately tomorrow if
he wants to. But I should rather not know who did it, if you’ll all be
responsible for its not happening again. You see, I like you all so much
that I’d hate to know who did so foolish and wrong a thing. And if you
will agree that it is to be a good school, in which everyone works
together in the right spirit, I’ll agree to stay until the end of the
year. Otherwise I pack my trunk tonight.”

The pupils gave ample promises, which were not broken. Mr. Thomberg
stayed through that year and the next one also, and had the best school
in the county.

COMMENTS

This is an extraordinarily difficult situation. Mr. Thomberg’s success
in dealing with this unusual case depended first of all on the fact that
his knowledge of pedagogy enabled him to analyze the situation truly. He
saw that the bad order was not caused by any one pupil, but was the
result of a social tradition for which many persons, in and out of the
school, were responsible. All the pupils upheld the disorder; therefore
all the pupils were dealt with in a group.

In the second place he was independent, as a really first-class teacher
can be. He set the standard of behavior, and required his students to
come up to it or give up school altogether. Had the school declined to
take the social responsibility he asked of them, he would really have
packed his trunk and left. He was well prepared for his work, and was
greatly in earnest about it, nor did he propose to do what he considered
an undignified thing in probing for evil.

His personality was strong enough to set up a new standard for
imitation, and to supplant the old one of inefficiency and mischief. The
problem of order was for a time swallowed up in the greater one of
securing real mental development in his pupils, and when it did show
itself he treated it as a matter to be dealt with socially by the
pupils. This seemed to put upon them a responsibility they had been used
to having the teacher assume unaided, and they rose to the new honors
imposed upon them. Mr. Thomberg utilized imitation in setting up a new
regime, by requiring united action of his pupils. In this way he met a
psychological situation with psychological weapons.

(11) _Snobbishness._ Snobbishness is a very hard thing to meet wisely,
and a sin which is too easily learned by imitation.

CASE 83 (HIGH SCHOOL)

Joseph Lescinszky was a tailor in a small Middle West city, who lived in
five small rooms over his shop, with his wife and seven children. He had
plenty of patronage, for he was a good tailor, but he was unhappy, for
one of the dreams long associated with his American citizenship had
failed to materialize. His eldest son, Joseph Junior, was in the high
school—a homely, awkward boy with great wistful eyes and an incurable
shyness. He was a good student, but suffered constantly under the
heartless, matter-of-fact ridicule of his American schoolmates.

[Sidenote: Race Prejudice]

This ridicule was but the echo of the attitude of the whole community
toward the Polish family. They were the only foreigners in the place,
and their appearance, habits and speech afforded unlimited amusement to
everyone. Men who had had their suits made by the skillful, little,
Polish tailor told funny stories in which his broken English figured as
the chief point, and their sons and daughters in turn laughed at the shy
and awkward children whom they met at school.

No one realized how this ridicule embittered the life of the tailor
until Miss Swainson came to Hovey to teach in the high school. She took
her old cape to the tailor one day, thriftily planning to have it made
into a coat for school wear; and over the making of the coat, tailor and
teacher began to discuss Joseph and his school life. No teacher had ever
talked to him about Joseph before, and the little Pole voiced his
feelings tremblingly.

“My Joseph does not like the school,” he confided. “He goes because I
command him that he shall, but he has not his heart in it.”

“He does very good work,” comforted Miss Swainson. “His lessons are
always excellent.”

“Ah, the lessons he gets with no trouble. But the boys, they like him
not. They all time make fun on him, and my poor Joseph is not happy. He
is Polack, they say. It is not true—we are Americans now; there is the
paper,” and he pointed proudly to the naturalization paper, framed upon
the wall.

“We’ll see if we can’t make Joseph happy at school,” Miss Swainson
promised. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Now, Miss Swainson was one of the upright, downright people who go at
things directly and openly. She began a campaign for the kinder
treatment of Joseph Lescinszky, Junior. She had no doubt of her success.

An opportunity for beginning her kindly efforts in Joseph’s behalf came
soon. Joseph was always the butt for practical jokes, and Charlie Owen
was his particular tormentor. Therefore, when Joseph was tripped, going
to the dictionary, by Charlie’s projecting toes, she kept Charlie after
school and had a serious talk with him.

“Don’t you see what a contemptible thing it is for you to tease this
bright boy just because he is of Polish blood?” she inquired warmly of
smiling Charlie Owen.

“Why, Miss Swainson, he don’t mind. Everybody always laughs at those
Lescinszkies, and they don’t care. If they ever showed fight like
Americans I guess we’d let them alone, but they don’t. They’re not like
us.”

“That’s just why you should treat them better. They haven’t learned that
a boy has to fight in order to be decently treated,” Miss Swainson
returned with fine scorn.

“No, ma’am. If they could only learn that, they’d be all right.” Fine
scorn was wasted on Charlie.

All Miss Swainson’s efforts ended in this way. Secure in their feeling
that traditional American means for securing respect were the only ones,
smug with the provincialism of the small town, the school children
continued to express to the alien boy the contempt they had imbibed from
their elders. They merely smiled at Miss Swainson’s indignant efforts to
win justice and kindness for their Polish schoolmate.

Toward the end of the year the young teacher thought she detected a
shade of difference in the treatment given Joseph. This was due partly
to her constant shaming of the thoughtless cruelty of their conduct, and
partly to the respect he himself won by his good work in the classroom.
But although this small degree of success comforted her somewhat, she
felt still the defeat of her efforts keenly, not realizing that a change
of conduct based on imitation must come through a change of example
followed.

COMMENTS

Miss Swainson’s method did not go deep enough. Mere protest will
occasionally effect a change, but not often. If she could have gotten
behind Charlie Owen’s attitude, and found its roots, which were probably
in the attitude of some member of his family or a powerful older friend,
she might have truly converted Charlie to her way of thinking. His
statement that “everybody always laughs at those Lescinszkies,” might
have given her a clue, but she did not realize that she was only working
on the surface.

ILLUSTRATION (RURAL SCHOOL)

Sallie Lou Pinkston came from Mobile, Alabama, to the small, northern
town of Cade Mills, when she was ten years old. She was the only girl in
an adoring family of brothers—a lovely, sunny-haired child, with the
confidence in her right to rule her world which her happy family life
had given her. She entered the fifth grade that fall, and scored an
immediate success with the whole room, teacher included. Her southern
accent was a continual source of delight; her matter-of-course
assumption that everyone wanted to do the entertaining things she
planned kept the whole room, with two exceptions, tied to her dainty
apron-strings.

The two exceptions were Laurastine and Enameline Flack. Laurastine and
Enameline belonged to the one colored family in town, and they had
always attended the public school and had always been well treated by
the other children. But when Sallie Lou cast her golden charm over the
room, things changed. Sallie Lou didn’t understand why they should be
there at all, and she surely didn’t intend to tolerate them as her
social equals. Led by the irresistible charm of Sallie Lou, vying with
each other to stand in her graces, the other children began to ignore
the two little colored girls, or openly to laugh at them and pointedly
to leave them out of their games.

Miss Stone, the teacher, being a northern woman and a believer in
literal democracy, thought this a very bad state of things indeed. The
two little girls were well behaved, wistful, little creatures, whose
tears at the new turn of things went straight to Miss Stone’s big heart.
She knew that the remedy must come in some way through Sallie Lou, who
had caused the havoc; for there was no possible way to supplant her
dominant influence, nor was such a thing desirable except for this one
cause. Sallie Lou had wakened the room to a new interest in many things,
and in everything except the treatment of the little “niggers” she was
sweetness and docility itself.

Could Sallie Lou be converted? Miss Stone tried it, with doubt in her
heart; she knew what prejudice is. She invited Sallie Lou to her house
for supper one Friday night, and after supper they sat by the fire and
had a long talk about it. Miss Stone presented the pathetic cases of
Laurastine and Enameline as touchingly as she could, but Sallie Lou
merely smiled divinely and told her, most sweetly, that of course she
wanted to do what was right, but that it wasn’t right for “niggers” to
mix socially with white people, and that the town should provide a
separate school for them. She was firmly entrenched behind the prejudice
of her rearing in a community which solved the problem this way.

Miss Stone reluctantly retreated from the attack, but she did not give
up. She went behind the prejudice to its support, behind the example to
its example. She cultivated Sallie Lou’s mother, her father, her four
charming brothers. The parents, finding few cultured people in the
little town, welcomed the well-read teacher and were very cordial to
her. When she had won their respect and liking, Miss Stone asked for a
frank talk with them about the conditions in her room, and told them
just how the irresistible Sallie Lou was leading all the other children
in the fifth grade to snub the two little Flacks.

At first the Pinkstons were amused, then they were indignant. They too
felt that the two colored children had no business in a school for white
children. But when Miss Stone had shown them that a separate school was
impracticable in a town that had but one colored family, that conditions
were very different from those of a southern city, and that a change in
Sallie Lou’s attitude would avert a personal tragedy for two innocent
little girls, the parents came finally to see the matter from her point
of view. They promised to talk to Sallie Lou and to persuade her to
change her tactics. Miss Stone thanked them, and changed the subject
quickly and brightly to something else.

Sallie Lou, at first with formal and awkward condescension, but later
with the same frank charm that won everyone to her, asked the two little
outcasts back into the fold of fifth grade fun. The rest fell easily
into their old democratic way of sharing things. Miss Stone had solved
the problem of race prejudice by changing the example.

2. Play—A Second Form of the Adaptive Instincts

  The child never reveals his whole nature as he does when playing. His
  physical, mental and moral powers are all called then into vigorous
  exercise. On the playground the boy begins to learn how to struggle
  with his fellow men in the great battle of life. His strength and his
  weakness both manifest themselves there, so that it pays to study him.

                                                              —_Hughes._

Much school trouble is caused by the purely sportive impulses of
childhood, impulses which are in themselves entirely innocent and
wholesome. One of the most valuable parts of a child’s training is the
acquiring of a set of notions as to appropriateness—the knowledge of
when he may, and when he may not, rightly give rein to his wish to play.
Some children acquire these ideas of propriety readily, and adapt
themselves seemingly without effort to the customs of their environment;
but most children stumble through the period of adaptation with many
backslidings, for the instinct of play is stronger than the instinct of
adaptation to requirement.

But let it be remembered meanwhile that this same play instinct is one
of the strongest allies of the teacher in securing such adaptation, if
the instinct is properly directed. What lesson of politeness, neatness,
unselfishness, protection of the weak, promptness, responsibility, care
of pets, coöperation, chivalry—yes, even of duty and religion—may not be
taught through play! Draining off the play impulses into these
legitimate channels will relieve many a wearisome, perplexing day for
both teacher and pupils, and at the same time speed on the child toward
conscious self-control.

Perhaps the greatest single help in teaching children the voluntary
limitation of their play impulses, is the knowledge that play is only
postponed, not forbidden. Most children have so strong a love of
approbation that they like to do things in the proper way if the
sacrifice be not too great. They are willing to put off their fun, but
not to put it off forever. The teacher who says, “If you’ll wait until
recess, I’ll show you how to play a new game with marbles,” will secure
willing obedience, when she who takes the marbles away has only sullen
submission for her reward. Here the teacher utilizes the instinctive
love of novelty in teaching control of play impulses. During the period,
when conduct is so largely a matter of instinct, wise teachers play off
one instinct against another to the child’s gain, knowing that some
impulses need encouragement and others need to be inhibited.

[Sidenote: First Grade]

(1) “_Just mischief._” One of the most frequent ways in which the play
instinct expresses itself in the first and even in higher grades is in
the little annoyances which teachers group together under the general
term, mischief. An energetic child, if he is not constantly employed,
naturally vents his energy either in play or in trying to satisfy his
curiosity.

The principle of suggestion alone will often be sufficient to control
the child. The principle of substitution will work equally well.
Coöperation can be correlated with either of these, and expectation that
the child will do what the teacher desires should be used in whatever
method the teacher may adopt.

The mischievous boy will be quiet so long as he is reciting, but while
others are reciting he will immediately hunt for something else to do.
He will drag his shoe on the floor, reach over and touch his neighbor,
pull out a pocketful of string or help himself to his neighbor’s pencil.

It is not a case for punishment, but a time to apply one or more of the
fundamental principles. The teacher, without even a word or look, may
reach over and draw him to her side, asking him to look on her book, or
better still she may look on his book (suggesting that he attend to his
lesson). She may send him on some little errand—to bring a book or a
piece of crayon—and by the time she whispers, “Thank you, you did that
like a little gentleman,” he will have forgotten all about his mischief
(substitution and approval).

When the class is dismissed, however, the teacher must see that the
mischievous boy is kept busy and his work changed once or twice within
the half hour. She must not fail to show an interest in his work. The
comment, “That is so good, my boy, that I want you to put it on my desk
where we can look at it,” will so elate the child that he will work
industriously to do his best, and doing his best will keep him busy a
long time. When on the playground or in the gymnasium the teacher must
see that he gets plenty of “full-of-fun” play. It will use up some of
his restless energy.

The teacher must have an abundance of busy work ready for the next
restless period that comes, sorting blocks or marbles, straws or papers,
cutting or coloring pictures, putting books on the shelf, and anything
that will keep him innocently busy. Stencil cards, cutting out words or
letters, the distributing of materials for the class to use, games for
the recess and noon periods, frequent story periods during school hours,
interesting lessons, vigorous exercise, generous approval of every
effort to please the teacher—all these will gradually win the
mischievous boy to habits of self-control and industry. All children
like stories, and during the telling of the story, if it is at all worth
while, the children will be quiet and attentive. The teacher may,
however, call the restless child to herself, saying to him, “I like to
have somebody stand by me.” Better still, she may gather all the pupils
around her and say to the mischievous boy, “Robert, I am going to tell
you a story. The other boys and girls may listen.” This will captivate
the child, and when she has finished she may ask him to tell the story.

By this time the reader will sigh and ask, “Must all this be done to
keep one mischievous boy at work?” Yes, but it is far easier to interest
him than to be worried by his pranks. Then, too, by keeping him
interested, the teacher is administering to his development, while to
let him loll in his mischief would only tend to create in him habits of
inattention and idleness. At the close of the day the boy will go home
happy and the benediction of a happy teacher will follow him. Nothing
adds more to a teacher’s usefulness and happiness than the thought of
work well done.

In the above procedure the teacher has practiced suggestive control. She
has led the mischievous boy into activities that interest him, that
appeal and fascinate as well as satisfy that active mind, and that will
mature into right action. It is far easier to deal with a child full of
life, than to deal with a dullard. Direct properly the impulse that
causes this mischief, and it will become a force for real good in the
child’s life. The discreet teacher will look ahead and avoid
difficulties, and nowhere will she get more valuable clues to a method
of control than on the playground.

Watch the child in his play at recess to see what activity interests him
most. Suggest to him some point about that activity which he has
overlooked and commend him on his skill. Every child has a hobby. If you
can find this boy’s hobby and tell him something about it which he does
not know, you will make a warm place in his heart for yourself. Then
utilize the knowledge thus gained, and his increased confidence in you,
in order to add to his school work just the element that will make it so
interesting for the child that he will find the work more delightfully
fascinating than the mischief.

The first grade teacher needs to be in her room but a few days before
she will see some little child making grimaces at his neighbor and not
infrequently he may make a grimace at the teacher, especially if he
feels that the teacher has not dealt fairly with him. This is not a
serious annoyance and should give the prudent teacher no worry. It can
not be repeated too often that many of the small offenses that harass a
school day are doubly intensified by the attention that is paid them.
Often when a pupil does some petty misdemeanor, he would soon forget it
were it not that the teacher notices it and pounces upon the offender
with some brand of punishment and thereby the child learns that this
certain offense is a thing that the teacher dislikes. In the future,
whenever that child’s feelings are ruffled, he will resort to this
certain offense to annoy the teacher. The discreet teacher will train
her pupils in such a way that they will not settle upon any specific
type of annoyance.

In cases where a child resorts to the practice too frequently, the
teacher will find it well to devise some means by which she can
substitute one activity for another; that is, substitute a more
interesting activity for the making of grimaces. The teacher may use the
following method and conversation:

“Children, we are planning to have a little play party once a month.
This is to be on the last Friday afternoon of each month. Each one of
you is to bring either a cooky, an apple, an orange, or a banana, and I
will bring some candy. We will play all kinds of games and just before
school dismisses we will eat our dainties. Won’t that be fine? But,
children, I have just thought that any one who makes grimaces or ugly
faces during the month ought not to be invited. We do not want our party
spoiled. What do you say?”

Of course all, or nearly all of the children will say that any one who
is guilty of making faces shall not come. The teacher who has not tried
anything like this will think it is absurd and impracticable, but it
will greatly assist in removing grimacing and many other evils that
troop through a teacher’s school experiences.

The means of discipline need not necessarily be a party. It can be some
other affair or activity that children like. If the teacher chooses a
party, she must have a goodly number of games ready and keep her
children intensely interested.

The luncheon is an important feature of the party and must be well
managed by the teacher. All the sweetmeats must be divided into small
parts and so mixed that a child does not get the dainty he contributed.
A cooky can be cut into four pieces, a banana into four or five pieces,
and the same with other sweetmeats. Children like little things. Then,
too, the teacher may suggest that they play at having a luncheon.

CASE 84 (SECOND GRADE)

[Sidenote: Making Faces For Fun]

Adams White knew a large number of systems by which to rearrange his
features so as to produce laughter. When the book-agent sat at the side
of the room, Adams took occasion to entertain him with the horrible
figure made by drawing down his lower eyelids until a large part of the
eyeball was exposed to view. The boy did this, or a similar prank, every
once in a while, and his teacher, young Benjamin Danner, scarcely knew
what penalty would do the boy the most good.

Unfortunately for Adams, he was caught in the act. “Go to the
blackboard, Adams. Put your hands behind your back and lean forward till
your head touches the wall. Did you understand me?”

“Well,” thought the agent, “this is interesting. I can hardly believe
that such methods are in use today. But here is the proof right before
my eyes.” He watched Adams move in a clumsy, resistant manner, and
assume the position prescribed.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Instead of such a punishment as the one described above, we propose that
Mr. Danner pay no attention to the deed until school is out for the day.
Find some favor that Adams can do for you and put him at it immediately.
When he has completed the task, or at least made good headway, call him
to one side, look him straight in the eye, as he is seated in front of
you, and say:

“Adams, you need to be careful how you look at visitors who call at our
school. The gentleman was surprised at your action today. I felt sorry
for him. I want to know if you can keep at your work in an orderly way
on similar occasions hereafter.”

If the answer is more or less satisfactory, accept it and say:

[Sidenote: A Firm Injunction]

“I am going to depend on you for this. I want to see no more expressions
of shame on the face of a visitor because of your conduct. I want every
pupil to work straight on no matter who may come in.”

COMMENTS

This boy needs no publicity as a reward for his misdemeanor; he will
sooner or later take advantage of his unexpected predicament to make
more trouble for his teacher. The penalty had no logical connection with
the prank, and only aggravated the boy’s antipathy toward school rules.
Mr. Danner advertised his lack of good discipline by resorting to this
barbarous penalty, especially when a stranger was present.

If the conduct of Adams is to be permanently improved, this one act must
be viewed in its relation to his conduct generally. As soon as Adams
feels vitally his part in making the school a success, his behavior will
improve. No pupil is so obstreperous that one need despair of winning
him by some kind of means, at least until one has exhausted his
resources.

The plan recommended above, or some adaptation of it, can be used
profitably for a pupil of any grade.

ILLUSTRATION (FIFTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Making a Man]

Jim was ten years old when he was transferred from Webster Street School
in the East End of the city to Central School on Main Street. This
transfer was the culmination of a long series of misdemeanors on his
part and many untactful methods employed by his teachers. No species of
juvenile mischief remained untried by him.

He went into each room with a scarred record from his former teacher,
and was not allowed to forget the fact that he always did the wrong
thing. He was scolded daily, sent into the hall to stay for hours and
gaze benignly upon the works of art that decorated the walls, which of
course he didn’t do, not being deeply engrossed in art study. More
naturally he spent the time in mischievous pranks. He was whipped,
threatened, and denied the advantages of less energetic and less
talented pupils.

But with the transfer came a change in the boy’s nature. When he entered
Central School, Miss Burns grasped his hand and said, “Well, Jim, I’m
glad you’re going to be in our school. I know we’re going to get along
finely.” She treated him as if he intended to do the right thing, and
before long he actually thought he did so intend.

She had him go on errands for her when she saw he was getting restless,
or erase the blackboard for her after an exercise, which he did with
great dispatch, and before the end of the first day she had completely
won his respect and gratitude.

One morning on his way to school Jim heard his classmates planning
Christmas presents for their teacher. Immediately he began to contrive
ways and means for securing a beautiful necklace he had seen in the
jeweler’s shop—a necklace of gold and pearls. This was the only gift
that his active little brain could conceive of as being worth giving to
Miss Burns.

Only, he hadn’t the money to buy the necklace. His parents were
far-seeing in a financial way, and did not believe in bestowing
unlimited amounts of coin upon their children. So it was that Jim found
need to do something unusual in order to secure the coveted present. He
was not long in working up a paper route. He would rise early in the
morning and spend long hours delivering his papers.

In connection with this work he took orders for Christmas wreaths, then
secured a large quantity of holly from a wholesale man on market; his
little sister, Ruth, bought a supply of fluffy, flaming ribbon at the
Ten-Cent Store. Together they made the wreaths, Jim paying Ruth for her
artistic advice and time. In this way the wreaths cost less than the
ready-made wreaths, and Jim was able to secure a better price for them.
Thus Jim saved enough money to buy the necklace and also some lovely
presents for those at home.

You can imagine Miss Burn’s surprise when, among other gifts, she found
Jim’s necklace on her desk the morning before Christmas. Realizing the
value of the gift and Jim’s true devotion to her, she won from him the
story of his sacrifice. She said, “Oh, Jim, you don’t know how this
makes me feel,” and Jim went home at the end of the day with a beaming
face.

Jim’s sacrifice reacted upon himself, for this taste of his powers led
him into many fair means of earning money, and so launched him well on
what turned out to be a successful business career.

“Making faces” is essentially a little child’s offense, although
sometimes it persists in upper grades or even in the high school.

CASE 85 (FOURTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: “Making Faces” for Spite]

In a small village there existed bad feeling between the pastor of the
church and several of his leading members. Some parishioners took sides
with the pastor, and in the school the children of these two church
factions carried on the quarrel of their elders. The teacher kept peace
on the playground through active personal supervision, but in school he
encountered the face-making problem in a degree only less ridiculous
than it was annoying.

There existed an active emulation in the ugliness of the facial
contortions produced, and when a member of one faction had made a
particularly horrid grimace, he looked for and received the silent
applause of his sympathizers.

Charles Briggs was the teacher. He knew that the feeling of alliance in
the members of the factions was the cause of the face-making epidemic,
but he could not at first think of a logical way of meeting the
situation. He tried, first, the use of his absolute authority. He
forbade the making of faces, and punished the children when he caught
them at it. Whereupon face-making became a more exciting sport than
ever, since the zest of escaping notice was added to the pleasure of
presenting an ugly front to the enemy.

Mr. Briggs said, “How funny you would all look if your faces should stay
twisted into those grotesque shapes.” Nevertheless the children spent
their recesses, when kept in, in inventing new twists and contortions;
they stood in corners and drew the attention of the whole room to fresh
triumphs in grotesqueness. The evil grew, because the cause was not
touched. One boy even set a looking-glass up in front of his book, into
which he made faces for the benefit of the girl who sat behind him,
keeping his head lowered meanwhile as if using his handkerchief to wipe
his tearful eyes.

Then Mr. Briggs began to think of underlying causes and intrinsic
remedies. As a consequence, he made up a fairy story about a land where
people’s thoughts molded their features with instant magic into the
semblance of ugly animals or noble men and beautiful women. He
introduced a princess of evil disposition whose face was that of a
cross, snapping dog, but whom a magician changed into a being of
loveliness and grace by his persuasions to self-sacrifice and kindness.
He told this story as vividly as he could, with emphasis upon the
dislike people feel for an ugly face. Then he waited a day or two for
the story to take effect. He heard the children laughingly allude to it
once or twice, but the evil went on.

Then he talked to his school about face-making. He explained that such
contortions really do affect the faces and characters of those who make
them, not of those who see them. He led his boys and girls to see that
face-making made them contemptible, and that every time it was done it
published the inferiority of the doer. Then, having condemned the old
ideal, he tried to build up a new habit by showing that the strongest
man is the one who is most self-controlled, and ended by a little
skillful ridicule of the babyish method they had been taking to show a
silly spite.

“Suppose,” he proposed at last, “that we put the babies who make faces
over here with the primary pupils, where they’ll feel more at home?
Bright people don’t like to be associated with such children. But we’ll
not try it unless we have to. I shall watch you during the next few
days, and I’m going to see how many can show their friends and their
enemies, if they have any, that they are worth respecting, and that
their souls don’t look like twisted turnips.”

No magical change came over the school, but gradually the sentiment for,
and practice of, face-making died out. The children unconsciously copied
the teacher’s contempt for it. By stories and references he built up an
ideal of beauty and dignity in personal appearance and behavior.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Mr. Briggs did well to search for underlying causes and effective
remedies, because the use of authority in such a case is a mistake, as
he found. Make no attempt to suppress the practice, but proceed at once
to the constructive plan of building up a good sentiment.

Whatever you do, do not assume that the pupil is disrespectful to you.
If the pupils have shown such disrespect in the past, simply set about
gaining their confidence.

Face-making is largely an outgrowth of the play impulse, no matter what
its motive. Substitute a better form of play. Dramatizing a story that
emphasizes the opposite of the undesirable characteristics, is one of
the best ways of overcoming the fault. Read “The Little Knight of
Kentucky” during the twenty-minute periods just before school closes.
Dramatize parts of it. When the children are imbued with the chivalrous
spirit of the story, suggest the incongruities of face-making and other
spiteful acts, by saying to the boy whom you “catch”: “Harold, the
little knights of Kentucky did not make faces at each other. Would we be
as proud of them as we are, had they done so? Then, let’s not have any
one who makes faces play that story today.”

COMMENTS

When the motive is the approbation of fellow-pupils, these fellow-pupils
must be made to change their attitude of admiration for muscular
grotesqueness for one of appreciation of facial repose, beauty and
dignity. It is a matter of inculcating ideals. Beautiful pictures of
ideal faces, such as those of Hoffman’s _Boy Christ_ and Raphael’s
_Madonna of the Chair_, may be used to illustrate the ideal of fine,
controlled faces that express beautiful and kind thoughts. Sometimes
offhand contempt of a babyish practice helps, especially with a vain and
self-conscious type of pupil.

ILLUSTRATION (THIRD GRADE)

[Sidenote: Cure for Bad Manners]

Miss Grasome stood aghast at the rude manners and selfishness of her
third grade pupils. She had tried many plans for improving the
situation, but with little success, for the children had the constant
example before them of rude manners in their homes. As the Christmas
season drew near she thought to herself, “I’ll try once more. We will
dramatize ‘The Birds’ Christmas Carol.’ Perhaps that beautiful story
will teach the children the lesson that I seem to have failed thus far
in clinching. I’ll use the rudest and most selfish girl I have for the
sick child’s part. She won’t play as well as some of the others, but if
she’ll only catch the lesson I want her to get, I won’t mind the
blunders.”

The proposition to have a play instead of a Christmas tree delighted the
children. The story interested them so much that when, toward the latter
part of their study, Miss Grasome proposed that they follow out the
thought of the story and make some needy or unfortunate person the
recipient of their gifts this year instead of making them to each other,
the children were quite ready for the sacrifice.

Of course committees must be appointed, and much coöperative work done
before all details could be arranged. But every child had a share in the
planning, and not many weeks had passed before a gentler and more
considerate spirit began to dominate the school-room. Miss Grasome
smiled and said to herself: “Coöperation works better than prohibiting
or forcing, even in such matters as the training of manners, it seems.”

CASE 86 (FIFTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Paper Wads]

Algie B. knew all the fun there is in throwing paper wads, particularly
when he could run the greatest risks of detection and yet escape
discovery. Said he to himself one busy morning:

“I believe I’ll take a shot at Redtop. The teacher’s got him scared into
looking at his book; he’s got to be waked up.”

A good-sized wad soon sped across space, struck Redtop plump on the side
of the head, fell and rolled back toward Algie.

“Better yet, I’ll just get that wad and have it for another shot. It’s a
lucky boy I am, if I can do that.”

Stooping, he made four stealthy steps forward, regained his wad and slid
back into his seat. When Miss Stone looked about, the next moment
Algie’s eyes fell to his book and all was quiet and peaceful as a day in
spring.

This fine example of bravery and success was not lost on other restless
spirits. By the next day an observing onlooker counted up ten instances
in which sly wad-throwers had reproduced Algie’s feat.

On the third day over-boldness brought the climax. Miss Stone had been
too much absorbed to note the minor noises that were provoked. But when
Amy Lane, nervous, uncontrolled, uttered a yell of terror as a cold wad
struck her in the back of her neck and slipped down, ten pupils broke
loose in a chorus of laughter.

Miss Stone roused up and, strange to say, succeeded in getting a story
of the recent happenings. She threatened the last culprit, who in
self-defense said,

“Why must I suffer when all the other boys do the same thing?” and he
named nearly every boy in school, ending up with Algie.

Her threats of punishment of course were vain in the presence of so many
offenders. With a sharp talk she dropped the discussion.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Miss Stone has one simple task: to rouse from absorption in one duty and
wisely distribute her attention to several matters.

Promises must not be taken as fulfillment; assurances of any sort must
not be taken for more than they are worth. Find a safe medium between
espionage and disastrous indifference.

COMMENTS

School-room behavior will never take care of itself under any system of
management. A teacher who thinks he has solved all of his disciplinary
problems is resting in a deceitful security. A sweet trustfulness that
keeps every pupil in his most delightful mood and never sees the wild
emotions and boisterous conduct that arises from them is the rock of
destruction for a teacher’s influence.

ILLUSTRATION (SIXTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Painting Face]

Roland was an unkempt, dirty, red-headed little fellow in the sixth
grade of a small town school. He came from an unlettered, hard-working,
shiftless family in the country and, like Topsy, had just growed up. He
was bright enough, but his reasoning power and sense of right and wrong
were undeveloped because he had never been taught rightly. He had been
whipped when naughty without fully understanding that what he had done
was wrong.

One day, in the new school, he daubed his nose, cheeks and chin with ink
when Miss Downer, the teacher, was not looking, and convulsed with
laughter everyone who looked at him.

It was almost recess time, and Miss Downer quietly bade him wash his
face. When the rest were dismissed she said, “Roland, I want to speak to
you a minute.”

“Going to get a licking!” whispered the boy behind him, and Roland
grinned scornfully, for whippings really did not matter much to him any
more, though Miss Downer was new and untried and she looked as though
she might be pretty strong.

When the rest had gone Miss Downer sat down in front of Roland and spoke
to him kindly, “Roland, why do you do such things in school?”

Roland shifted uneasily and said, “Dunno.”

“Have you your language lesson?” at which he shook his head.

“Didn’t you think that besides foolishly wasting your own time you were
wasting the other children’s time by making them laugh at you?”

This was an entirely new thought to him and he looked at her in
incomprehension.

“You come to school to learn, don’t you, Roland? And the more you can
learn the better off you will be. Some day when you get to be a man
you’ll be glad you know more than somebody else, and sorry that you
don’t know as much as some other person. Why, you were just telling me
yesterday that your father didn’t have a chance to go to school beyond
the fourth grade! And here you are wasting this precious, precious time
of yours!”

Roland looked intently at a dirty finger-nail and Miss Downer could not
tell whether she had made an impression on him or not. She gave him a
story from a supplementary reader, telling of Lincoln’s struggles to get
an education, to read during the rest of recess.

A week later Roland became really interested in the history lesson. This
teacher’s questions weren’t the kind you could answer, parrot-like, by
memorizing the words of the textbook. You had to stop and think about
it. He asked, “I’d like to know about this yere Civil War, anyway. Some
says they fit about slavery and the book says because they seceded, and
I’d like to know which is right.”

Miss Downer devoted the rest of the class period to satisfying Roland’s
query, and counted the time well spent because she had laid the first
stone in the foundation of Roland’s education—she had aroused
intellectual curiosity, satisfied it, and given him food for more
questions.

Every time he misbehaved after that she kept him in and talked to him
seriously. Not once did she threaten or scold. And at other times she
tried to draw him out by being interested in him and his affairs—the
baby brother at home, a new dog he had, and what “my paw” said and did.

At length Roland began to realize that this teacher was not a vindictive
creature, wreaking her spite upon him for harmlessly amusing himself and
other people, but one who was interested in him, Roland Smith, and
really cared what he did and thought. And, though she had queer ways of
looking at things, he really hated to disappoint her and she could make
him feel most awfully uncomfortable and ashamed of himself.

[Sidenote: Paper Wads]

Miss Downer’s final test came when Roland was discovered throwing paper
wads at a boy across the room. Miss Downer felt very much inclined to
thrash him soundly, for this was a case of wanton naughtiness. But she
did not.

Instead she merely talked to him as she had talked before, bringing in a
little more of the personal element.

“Roland, what if your brother kicked you every time you were almost
asleep at night, or joggled your elbow every time you started to take a
mouthful at the table, or pulled the chair out from under you when you
started to sit down? It would be funny at first, wouldn’t it, but how
long do you suppose you and your brother could keep on playing together
as good friends if he kept it up?”

Roland shook his head, mystified.

“That’s just what you’re doing to me. You told me you wanted to learn
and get on in the world, and the rest of these children do, too—they
don’t want to be stupid when they’re grown up. But we can’t learn very
fast with some one hindering us all the time, and I was counting on your
help.”

Miss Downer spoke very kindly and earnestly, and looked directly at
Roland.

“I wasn’t goin’ to throw them paper wads, honest I wasn’t, Miss Downer.
But before I knowed it, they was thrown,” and Roland did look truly
sorry.

Miss Downer’s impulse was to punish him, not to forgive him again, but
if he really were sorry and trying to do better, a whipping would spoil
all the good work she had accomplished so far.

“Are you sorry, Roland?” her voice was low and serious.

There was a long pause, during which Roland fingered a scrap of paper
nervously, not looking up. Then his lip began to quiver and he nodded
violently, breaking into sobs.

“I—I d-didn’t mean to and I won’t do it no more, honest.” Roland, whose
boast was that “nary whipping” had ever made him cry, was penitent
because he had disappointed her who had been kind to him.

CASE 87 (HIGH SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: Laughing at Nothing]

Hen. Rutgers couldn’t help having plenty of fun. If no one made it for
him he took a turn and produced it himself. He could have plenty and not
laugh. Then he could laugh like the falling water on a cataract when
there was very little fun in sight.

Hen. laughed. He laughed out loud. Miss Gresham went speedily to his
desk, looked him straight in the face, and said:

“Henry, why did you laugh just now?”

Hen. lifted his head slowly and just as slowly rolled his eyes over
until he looked her squarely in the eyes. With their glances mutually
fixed Henry said very deliberately:

“I—don’t—know,” without a smile.

“Henry, you surely know what caused you to laugh. What was it?” Then
glibly but without a smile came Henry’s reply.

“O yes, I remember. I was just thinking what would happen if Mr. Finley
(superintendent, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds) should back off
the platform there sometime when he’s walking around so fast.”

“You should be at work, Henry,” was all that Miss Gresham could utter at
the time. The chief reason for her weak response was she had drawn the
attention of half the pupils and a general titter arose at Henry’s reply
chiefly because of his absolute composure of countenance.

Henry did not care so much for mischief for its own sake. His chief
sport was attracting the attention of other pupils and getting the
teacher into a mild predicament by setting a sort of disciplinary trap
for her.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Avoid asking such questions as, What made you laugh? Why did you do it?
etc., except privately. Even then unless you are reasonably sure of a
satisfactory answer to these questions you may complicate your case by
so doing instead of helping it toward a solution.

Pass over details of causes which pupils most often allude to and lay
hold of the prime provocation for bad order. Use your power of analysis
and apply an effective remedy. Henry needs an abundance of heavy but
interesting work. Bear down so deep into his interest in geology that he
cannot menace your loyalty to him by trifling with you in respect to
discipline. Treat him so squarely, frankly, generously that his respect
for you will be an unremitting check on small misdemeanors.

COMMENTS

Pupils may not know what to answer when asked, “Why did you do so and
so?” The truth is the causes are numerous. The last cause may have been
the stumbling of one pupil over another one’s foot. But another cause
lies behind this—disrespect for the teacher; behind this, fondness for
another teacher. Why does a pupil act in a certain fashion? He is
underfed, improperly clothed, irritated from insufficient sleep—these
are all proper answers to the question, “Why?” Hence, every time the
query is put a teacher runs the risk of provoking a worse situation and
yet of gaining nothing from the inquisition.

ILLUSTRATION

Superintendent Finley called Henry in after his little one-act play in
the assembly room and the following interview occurred.

[Sidenote: Gymnasium]

“I have some facts about your affairs in the study period, Henry, that
need to be cleared up. Yesterday you are said to have denied making
faces when the fact was you had been guilty.”

[Sidenote: Remedy]

“Well, I’ll tell you just how it was. I was at my desk. Miss Gresham
thought something was off-color and came down to see me. I told her I
didn’t know and then I recalled and answered her. The pupils looked on
and laughed. Miss Gresham was nettled, I suppose. She walked down the
aisle, stopped at Ellen’s desk, her back to me, and said to Ellen,

“‘Look over to Henry’s desk and see what he is doing.’

“Ellen caught sight of me and must have told that I was making a face,
for Miss Gresham came to me and said: ‘What were you doing just now?’ I
said, ‘Nothing.’ She said, ‘You were making a face.’ I said, ‘I was
not.’ Then she sent me home.”

“Why did you deny making a face?”

“Because I hadn’t done it. I scowled but that was all. I didn’t do
anything that need excite Miss Gresham. She’s got it in for me.”

“Now that will do on that. You are not properly occupied some way in
your periods in the study room. I credit you with having intellect
enough to know how to play the gentleman. It’s a question of whether you
are always going to take advantage of opportunities to make sport at the
expense of pupils’ and teachers’ time, or whether you are going to help
make school work a success. I know pretty well what you think on these
matters, but I’d like to hear you express yourself on this point.”

Henry did discuss the matter; there were a few weak spots in his view of
school life. His evident restlessness during long school hours was a
predisposing cause of several troubles. For this and other reasons, Mr.
Finley decided to revise his schedule for use of the gymnasium during
school hours and to provide suitable interruptions of mental labor by
physical exercise of various sorts. This new program gratified the
pupils as well as relieved physical necessities.

The interview ended fortunately for both teacher and pupil and
eventually brought relief to several unfavorable conditions in the
school as a whole.

(2) _Teasing tricks._ Sometimes a pupil can cause no end of annoyance by
teasing others. This fault may have been trained into the child at home.

CASE 88 (SEVENTH GRADE)

A bright lad and into all sorts of mischief, George had gradually
acquired the reputation among the teachers of being “a bad boy”; and the
new superintendent was informed to this effect when he came to the
school.

[Sidenote: Snake in School-room]

One day there was a great commotion in his grade; an innocent garter
snake had been let loose in the school-room. George was accused, and as
the disturbance had begun in his corner of the room, and as he was known
to have a great fondness for all sorts of animals, insects, snakes,
etc., the evidence seemed decidedly against him.

“No, sir!” he replied to the superintendent, when sent for to go to the
office. “No, sir! I didn’t do it!”

“I’m afraid that you are not telling me the truth, George. You have a
bad reputation. I think that I shall punish you by sending you into the
next lower grade, until you can learn to become more of a man.”

“It’s such a disgrace, mother! No, I can’t go back. The boys will all
make fun of me. Besides, I didn’t do it!”

Finally, however, his mother made him see that the manly thing would be
to take his punishment, even if he wasn’t to blame. So, on the following
morning, he reported himself to the teacher of the next lower grade, and
told her that he was to study there.

Later in the day the superintendent made his rounds, and exclaimed
surprisedly, when he saw George,

“Why, you here? I didn’t expect to ever see you again!”

Needless to say that was the last appearance of George at school, and a
life that might have been helped was spoiled by an unjust punishment and
a careless remark. Even superintendents may make mistakes!

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Say to the mischief-loving boy, “George, we can not have these animals
loose in the school-room; it disturbs our work entirely too much. But
there is a way that we can have them here, some of them at least, and
everybody enjoy them. How would you like to help me make a fresh water
aquarium for the school?” “You would like it? Very well. We shall need
one more to help us. Tell the boy who brought in the snake to come to me
with you this afternoon and together we will plan how to make the
aquarium. We’ll get it all ready and give the other children a surprise.
I’ll help you until it is ready for the animals. You and he can get the
specimens, and after that I would like to have you two take care of
them. Meanwhile, we’ll get from the library all the books we can find
about the animals you two select, and talk about them in the nature
study period.” The aquarium, referred to above, need not be an expensive
apparatus. In fact, most any kind of a vessel or a very large bottle
would serve the purpose very well. Do not furnish this yourself but let
one of the boys bring it.

COMMENTS

The fact that George was fond of animals, insects, snakes, etc., was the
clew for the teacher to work upon in gaining the good will and
coöperation of the troublesome boy. Knowing one strong interest that he
had, the teacher should start with that and work out from it to other
and broader fields of action.

Unless the teacher had actual proof to the contrary, she should have
accepted the boy’s statement that he did not bring in the snake. It is
far better that a guilty boy go unpunished, than that an innocent person
be punished. Take the initiative in coöperation with the troublesome
pupil and the troubles will soon disappear.

ILLUSTRATION 1 (THIRD GRADE)

[Sidenote: The Pet Dog]

Henry Gould was very fond of his collie and insisted upon having his
company every day at school. His teacher, Miss Greenway, probably would
have made no objection to this had it not been for a fact that the dog
was inclined to snap at any child except his master and thus endanger
the safety of the other children. How to forbid the presence of the dog
without arousing the antagonism of his owner was the problem. She
resolved to try approval and initiative in coöperation. So she called
Henry to her at noon time and said:

“Henry, I noticed the collie snapping at one of the little girls today,
and I think we shall have to ask him to stay at home after this. But he
is such a bright little fellow we shall miss him. Don’t you think it
would be fine for the children to take his picture before he goes? How
would you like to get him into a good position when the drawing period
comes and let the children use him for a model?”

Henry was proud to have his pet honored, stood by him patiently while
the children drew, and made no further insistence that he should come to
school.

ILLUSTRATION 2 (HIGH SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: A Live Mouse]

A practical joke loses all of its point when nobody is annoyed or made
ridiculous by it. A teacher who tactfully makes himself seem one of a
group who is deriving benefit from an experiment, wins the respect of
his students. Such a teacher was the high school instructor in science,
whose attention was directed to a mischievous pupil, by a girl’s
seemingly nervous fear of this fun-loving boy. Cautious investigation
revealed the fact that a living mouse was in the wide-mouthed bottle
which protruded from the joker’s pocket.

This principal told the boy that it would be instructive fun to let the
mouse loose in the building and see what the timid little thing would
do, but that such a course of action would endanger the future safety of
books, lunches, etc., left in the building. He, therefore, advised that,
at the coming recess, all who did not fear the mouse, form a large
circle in the school yard and that the mouse be let loose in the center
of the circle. And that all observe closely just what the little animal
did.

At recess, the principal himself joined the circle, asking the boys to
notice carefully whether or not the mouse would change his course to
avoid a shouting student.

After the mouse was experimented upon and killed the mischief-maker
began to wonder why it was that he was glad that he had not annoyed the
principal with the mouse, as he had intended to do.

CASE 89 (EIGHTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Teasing Rhymes]

                     “Hey Diddle Diddle!
                     Parts his hair in the middle!”

This was the couplet that greeted John Fraser as he entered his eighth
grade room one September noon. Above the couplet was a portrait of
himself, the style of his hair indicated very clearly. He erased the
decorations hastily, but said nothing about it. He was very young,
however, and the thoughtless disrespect shown him hurt sadly.

A day or two passed, during which he noticed the covert amusement at his
faultlessly pressed clothes, his punctilious manners, his careful
grooming, all new and strange to the crude little town in the Southwest
in which he taught. Then, one noon, he entered the room from the
playground to find a rough cartoon on the board, labeled, “Mr. Fraser
pressing his pants to make creases at 2 a.m.” The pupils were vastly
entertained by it.

“Who made this picture?” John demanded, very angry and feeling that his
dignity demanded that the offender be punished. Every head turned
instantly toward Cleaver Trotter, who seemed much pleased to be singled
out for attention.

“Cleaver, you may remain in at recess. I want to see you.”

“Just as you say, Mr. Fraser!” sang out Cleaver, jauntily. There was a
half-suppressed titter of admiration, and Mr. Fraser felt that he had
come out second best.

At recess he ascertained that Cleaver had really drawn the picture, and
forbade him sternly to repeat the offense. The interview took place in
the otherwise empty school-room, and when Cleaver was allowed to go he
joined a group of gaping admirers on the playground.

“What did he do to you?” they demanded to a man.

“Oh, he asked me why I did it, and I told him I couldn’t help it; I just
knew it took him all night to press his pants that way.”

“And what did he say then?”

“Well, he smelled of the smelling-salts and said that’d be all for
today, so I came on out.”

None of this account was true, but Cleaver won by it the thing his
boyish vanity wanted, the admiration of his crowd. They approved the
ridicule because it furnished them with fun, and Cleaver was shrewd
enough to know that his leadership depended upon their approbation of
his attitude. He annoyed John Fraser constantly throughout the school
year, not because he disliked him or wanted to be troublesome, but
because the teacher could not perceive that Cleaver had a mania for
approbation which needed to be guided into better channels.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

The pupil who does evil for approbation will do good for the same cause,
if approbation for good can be secured. In this case, Mr. Fraser might
have turned Cleaver’s talent for making cartoons and doggerel into less
personal use, utilizing the admiration of his classmates as a spur to
accomplishment. If he had asked Cleaver, for instance, to illustrate
some event in current history with an original cartoon, to accompany a
talk to be given in opening exercises, even Cleaver’s vanity would have
been satisfied at the flattery of having his talent taken so seriously.
At the same time the narrow personal nature of Cleaver’s interests would
have been broadened by a knowledge of affairs outside his immediate
world.

COMMENTS

Wise teachers do not allow the rudeness, crudeness and childishness of
their pupils to disturb their serenity. They know that good manners and
consideration are the result of training, and with “a fine disregard of
personalities” they set about giving this training. The great art in
such cases is to substitute a good activity for the bad one which has
heretofore gained the approbation sought.

ILLUSTRATION 1 (RURAL SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: Red Hair]

Mary Costello had fiery red hair, which swirled around her freckled face
in a way that would have delighted Titian, but which her pupils in
District 27 found only surpassingly funny. She unburdened herself one
night to her mother, who was just a generation more Irish than herself.

“That Thad Burrows thinks he’s so funny,” she stormed. “Today he said to
me, ‘Say, Miss Costello, do you wear a hat in winter?’ and I said of
course I did, and why shouldn’t I? And he said he should think it would
have to be lined with asbestos. Then they all bellowed, and if he ever
mentions it again I’ll lambast him for it,” and Mary’s eyes snapped with
indignation.

“There now, Mary, don’t be after letting a fool kid upset ye so,” her
wise old mother advised. “That Thad Burrows is a bright boy, and if it
was someone else’s thatch he said it about ye’d be laughing with him
altogether. I’ll bet that if you’ll win the heart of him, he’ll lick
anyone that dares to think of a white horse when you’re around.”

Mary pondered this advise and took it. She showed no resentment toward
Thaddeus, but rather sought ways of being especially kind to him. She
discovered that he was eager to earn money, and helped him find work in
town on Saturdays; she lent him books and deferred to his opinion in
matters of stove-tending and mouse-catching. He came to connect his
leadership with the teacher, who found so many little ways of giving him
the prominence his soul craved. The red hair ceased to be a joke, and by
the term’s end the prophecy of Mary’s mother had come to pass.

ILLUSTRATION 2 (SIXTH GRADE)

Raymond Smith had just taken up boxing. He was accustomed to hang around
a gang of street idlers and would-be sports and when any of the number
ventured to put on the gloves he was fully alive to every move they
made.

Not having funds to purchase a pair of gloves he began pummelling
smaller boys, getting some little skill in certain movements imitated
from his larger associates. There was a great deal of bluff and bluster
in his actions and not a small amount of teasing.

[Sidenote: Shaking Fist]

Ellen Moore, teacher, knew boy nature fairly well. She was strict in
conduct but rarely was caught firing her guns at a mere decoy. Raymond
broke over bounds in a harmless fashion in that as she was passing his
desk one afternoon, he doubled up his fist and shoved it in her
direction—an excellent opportunity for rigid discipline. But this is
what happened:

“My, what a large, solid fist you have,” she said in a quiet voice,
quickly moving on to her next duty.

The hand fell. The boy had no clear motive and yet was in a mood where
belligerency would be easily aroused and deeply relished.

No reference was again made to this incident by either, although Miss
Moore took occasion in a few other matters to draw the lines closely on
Raymond that he might clearly sense the limitations that school life
laid upon him.

CASE 90 (THIRD AND FOURTH GRADES)

[Sidenote: Toy Mouse]

(3) _Practical jokes—a more serious kind of teasing._ Imogene and
Charles Rogers were two orphans, living with elderly relatives who
wanted to bring them up wisely, but did not know how. They were full to
overflowing of animal spirits, bubbling with fun, restlessly eager to
fill every moment with good times. Miss Spires, their teacher, was
somewhat short-sighted, and that is why, when a little mechanical mouse
ran from the second row of chairs right up to her feet, she thought it a
live one and jumped and screamed.

Imogene and Charles, who had bought the mouse at the ten-cent store,
were delighted past all bounds, and all the children laughed. Miss
Spires thought she had been insulted, and without much ceremony put the
two children behind the piano. They were not at all resentful, for here
they had a good chance to plan more mischief, and made a conspiracy to
secure a repetition of the entertaining panic of the morning by putting
two of their pet rabbits into Miss Spires’ desk at noon. This great joke
worked as well as the first—even better. Miss Spires sent the “dreadful
children” to the principal for correction, with a message which made the
principal look at the young scapegraces gravely. But she was a wise
principal. She said:

“What did Miss Spires do when you made the mouse run up to her feet?”

“She just screeched!” gurgled Imogene in reminiscent delight.

“She jumped as high as my head!” Charles had a good imagination.

“Did she screech when you put the rabbits into her desk?”

“She hopped all around like a chicken, and asked who did that.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we did, and she didn’t think it a good joke, but she said we
were bad children and sent us to you.”

“Do you think you are bad? What is it, to be bad?”

“Swearing.”

“Biffing people that ain’t as big as you are.”

“And telling lies. That’s ’specially bad.”

“Yes, that’s all true. But do you know, good things are sometimes bad,
when they are put in the wrong places, and done at the wrong times.” The
principal had a long talk with the children, in which she discovered
that their attitude toward control was very good, but that their ideas
of appropriateness were very primitive. This was because their elders
had tried to repress them instead of guiding them, and being made of
irrepressible stuff they had simply overrun boundaries.

“Why don’t you try to guide those play instincts that are so strong in
Imogene and Charles?” she asked Miss Spires later. Miss Spires’ reply
shows just why she failed as a teacher:

“It’s not my business to study their ‘instincts.’ I’m here to teach them
to read and write and cipher.”

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Laugh with the children at your own silliness. At their age it would
have seemed as funny to you as it now does to them.

Pick up the mouse, examine it with interest, and say, “He is a funny
little fellow, isn’t he! (Approval.) But he hasn’t very good manners to
interrupt us so in school time. Let’s put him up here on the teacher’s
desk, where he can learn to be more polite.” (Suggestion—that the act
was rude.)

“Charles, you may read next. Imogene, see if he reads just right.”
(Substitution.)

COMMENTS

A teacher who is so infantile as to scream at a tiny, frightened mouse,
even though it were a live one, should not blame the pupils for
indulging in less marked exhibitions of arrest of development.

Teachers meet pupils sanely on the play question when they sympathize
with their desire to play, but see clearly why and how these impulses
must be controlled for the child’s future good. Play is a good servant
but a poor master; no human being is more pitiful than the amusement
drunkard. Play in its right place is a wonderful renovator of health and
spirits; play in the wrong place stunts character and makes for
selfishness and littleness. The ideal teacher wants his pupils to play,
helps them to realize the great values that lie in play, but shows them
clearly that play must be indulged in at right times and places, and
rigidly excluded from work hours, except where it can be made to help on
the work. In short, he leads his pupils as they grow older to play with
reason and to plan play intelligently, rather than blindly to follow
impulses.

ILLUSTRATION (HIGH SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: Play in Study Hour]

In a certain large high school the teachers had had much trouble with
the students in the assembly room. A spirit of uncontrolled play seemed
to take possession of the room a few minutes after the hour had begun.
Instead of settling down to work, the boys and girls wrote notes, played
little tricks on each other, whispered and made endless meaningless
trips to dictionary and bookcase. They seemed to think the hour was
given to them for social purposes.

Many teachers had failed to remedy this condition, before Miss Stansbury
was relieved of two classes that she might take hold of the assembly
room.

“Do you give me permission to do whatever I think is wise?” she asked
the harassed principal.

“Go ahead,” said he. So she did.

She had been in the room about five minutes, and was busily marking
papers, when a hard lemon came rolling up the aisle toward her desk. She
went to it, picked it up, and saw that two boys, the only two who could
have thrown it up that aisle, were looking at her under lowered lids.
Very quietly, so as not to be overheard except by those hard by, she
asked who had thrown the lemon, and the doer acknowledged at once—lying
was not a fault in this school.

“You don’t seem to know what a study period is for. You may take your
books and go home, and study your lessons there. I shall call up your
mother on the telephone and tell her why you are coming home.”

“But I have a class this next hour, and I live clear across the city!”
exclaimed the student, in dismay. “I can’t go home!”

“But you can’t stay here, since you don’t know how to use a common study
hall. Please go at once, and I’ll report to your teacher why you are
gone. I have work to do, and can’t spend my time policing the room.”

The puzzled boy rose slowly and left the room. Miss Stansbury went to
the high school office, called up his mother, and told her that her son
would be home shortly, as he had been playing in the assembly room and
would therefore have to do his studying at home that day.

“But he can’t study at home. We live a mile and a half across the city.
What was he doing? Was it anything dreadful?”

“Not at all. He merely rolled a lemon up the aisle, a very innocent
performance at any other time—but this happened to be study hour.”

“Well, you may be very sure he won’t do it again!” and the indignant
mother hung up her receiver with a snap.

When Miss Stansbury reached the assembly room again she saw a group
standing around a boy near the center of the room. They were giggling
and peering over his shoulder at something on the desk—which, when she
reached them, Miss Stansbury discovered to be the last copy of _Life_.

“Don’t go to your seats yet. I want to talk to you a moment, and I don’t
want to disturb those who are studying by talking very loud. You six
people also seem not to have learned what a study hour is for. Play and
fun and _Life_ belong to other times and places. I shall write your
names on slips, and send them to the teachers of your various classes,
so that if you are absent or tardy they may know why. And now you six
may take whatever study books you need and go home. You can not stay
here unless you study, for this is a study period. I shall call up your
homes and tell your parents why you are coming home.”

“Will you give us an excuse for absence from physics next hour?” one boy
asked.

“Why, no. You have excuses only for necessary absences.”

“But then we’ll get a zero for the recitation!”

“Yes, I suppose so. But a high school boy is supposed to know enough to
study during study hours.” Miss Stansbury was smiling and implacable.

The six passed out, grumbling and almost rebellious. Miss Stansbury went
again to the telephone, and told five mothers (the sixth one being out)
why their children were coming home.

“Why don’t you _make_ him study?” said one mother.

“I am doing so,” was the reply.

When she returned to the assembly room all was quiet. Not one of the
students who were left cared to play, or write notes, or roll lemons.
Here was a teacher who meant business. Miss Stansbury did not reform the
students altogether, for they often slid back into their old habits when
the younger and weaker teachers had charge of the room. But when she was
in charge, there was quiet and industry, and no attempt at ill-timed
fun.

By the time they have reached the high school, pupils know what is
expected of them during school hours in a general way; but they also
know that teachers vary greatly in their standards. Some tolerate play
during work time, some do not. Those who will tolerate it usually have
to. Miss Stansbury simply and quietly defined her stand, which was one
of absolute adherence to a work-while-you-work program. Neither did she
fall into the error of a certain high school teacher who dallied around
a note writer, neither asking what he was doing nor demanding that he
work. She reasoned that if a study period is for study, there is no
sense in having it spoiled by interpolated fun. She did not scold, she
did not lecture, she did not entreat, she did not moralize; she just
eliminated the disturbers, and after two examples of her method everyone
understood her and did as she demanded. She assumed differentiation
between working and play hours. If she had used this method with
untrained, little children in the lower grades it would have been a
stupid and harmful mistake, for such children have not yet learned to
control their play impulses. High school students know how; they will do
it if held up to a standard of action.

CASE 91 (HIGH SCHOOL)

The sophomore class in a high school decided to do something to call
public attention to the valor and general high qualities to be found in
its members. As students their record was good. As to conduct no member
had suffered any extreme penalties, although the superintendent’s son
had often skirted the boundaries of the unendurable.

[Sidenote: Buildings Disfigured]

The class played the following pranks: during the night the school bell
was rendered useless by removal of the rope and clapper; a donkey was
taken up the steps into the assembly room and left there until morning;
class emblems were painted in class colors in a score of forbidden
places.

This second offense aroused the ire of the superintendent. In a few days
the class was called to meet him and another member of the faculty. Mr.
Webster, the superintendent, at once asked the following questions:

“I would like to know what members of this class took part in the
disfigurement of the buildings and grounds.” His manner was not
offensive, yet his firmness was very evident and a degree of anxiety was
betrayed in his voice.

No answer was given. The superintendent then questioned each member of
the class as follows: “Were you on the school grounds the night of the
14th? Did you assist in disfiguring the property? Do you know who did
the work?” All but two members of the class declared they were under
obligations not to give any answers that would reveal who was guilty;
the two others answered these questions truthfully; but as they knew no
pertinent facts about the incident, nothing was gained.

The superintendent’s next step was to say: “Do you know any reason why
the members of this class, except these two, should not be suspended
until the desired information is given?” A few protests were heard, but
they all affirmed the right of a pupil to maintain silence when asked to
incriminate a fellow pupil. The superintendent then announced the
suspension to take effect at once.

At the end of two weeks a compromise was brought about and a majority of
the class returned to school. The rebellious members had declared they
would not open negotiations with the superintendent. He had declared
that they must inform him who were guilty of the offenses. Both of these
demands were laid aside. The superintendent was known to have changed
his decision and the offenders were publicly taunted with backing down
on the boast.

Some of these boys never re-entered the school; others found their
places soon, in another high school. The memory of the incident is a sad
one for all concerned.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Release the donkey from his “embarrassing situation,” but leave other
details of the mischief for a day or two. Some inkling of who the
perpetrators are will probably leak out in that time.

Meanwhile, have the damages appraised by the school board.

Next have a private talk with the president and other officers of the
class, stating to them the amount of the damages, the fact that you will
present the bill to the class and that you will then turn it over to
them for collection; also that you will expect their hearty coöperation
in seeing that all damages are repaired and paid for.

Finally, address the class as a whole. Say to the class, “I appreciate
the funny side of your pranks the other evening, but there are some
damages that some one has to pay. Two or three members of the board, in
whom all of us have confidence, have appraised them at ten dollars. You
have made a good record as a class. I shall expect you to live up to
your reputation by doing the fair and square thing in this instance
also. That means that you will authorize your president or some other
member of the class to see that damages are repaired and expenses paid.
You had lots of fun, but if the fun is ‘worth the candle,’ why, now, the
only manly course to pursue is to ‘pay for the candle.’

“I think it will not be necessary for me to speak of this episode again.
I leave the matter in your hands. I will ask your class president to
report to me when the work is completed.”

COMMENTS

The superintendent lost ground with the school in assuming a belligerent
attitude, in trying to force a confession, and in punishing innocent
pupils because they were unwilling to incriminate their classmates. The
weakness of his position is shown in the fact that in the end he was
obliged to compromise.

ILLUSTRATION (HIGH SCHOOL)

[Sidenote: Carbon Bisulphide]

The room was full of pupils. A representative of one of the numerous
book companies was present. Everything was moving smoothly and in order,
when suddenly the room began to fill with the disagreeable odor of
carbon bisulphide. It grew worse and worse. Pupils were holding their
noses to keep out the smell, and some were covering their mouths to keep
in the laughter.

The situation was trying for the teacher. He was embarrassed by the
presence of the visitor, under such odoriferous circumstances. What was
to be done? It would be useless to hold a public inquiry. It was a time
both for thought and tact. Finally the teacher evolved his plan.

Going on with the work, just as if nothing had happened, the teacher
conducted the remaining recitations of the day, as usual. Meantime he
kept his eyes open. The odor gradually grew less offensive and most of
the pupils quietly resumed their customary work.

The vigilance of the schoolmaster was finally rewarded. One of the boys
seemed to be enjoying the situation to a greater degree than the rest.
He was unable to entirely conceal his enjoyment and this was the
teacher’s clue. He kept his eye innocently on this boy.

Just as school was about to close for the day, the teacher said: “Frank,
I’d like to see you a few moments after dismissal.”

Frank remained. His countenance paled slightly and he no longer had
difficulty in suppressing his enjoyment.

“Frank,” began the principal, “where did that preparation that made such
a disagreeable odor here this afternoon come from?”

Frank looked guilty.

“I didn’t have it here in the room,” he replied.

“Yes, Frank, but that’s not answering my question,” responded the
inquisitor severely.

“Well, I had some bisulphide down on the playground, but I didn’t bring
it into the school-room,” Frank finally admitted.

“What did you do with it?”

“I gave it to Harry.”

“What did he do with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Very well, you are excused for the present, till we can see Harry.”

The next night Frank and Harry were both asked to remain. The
superintendent was present. Two pale boys appeared before the teachers.

“Harry, what did you do with the bottle of bisulphide you got from Frank
yesterday?” inquired the superintendent.

“I kept it down on the playground awhile and then threw it here in the
wastebasket,” was Harry’s candid response.

“Didn’t you know what was in the bottle?” resumed the teacher.

“No, sir, I didn’t.”

“Didn’t Frank tell you?”

“No, sir, he didn’t.”

“Is that right, Frank?”

“I guess that’s right,” said Frank seriously.

Evidently Harry was innocent for the most part. After sound admonition
by the superintendent the boys were dismissed. Frank was very careful
thereafter and Harry was always an exemplary pupil. No further
disturbances of this nature occurred during the year.

A little tact and patience on the part of the teacher will often be
highly rewarded in the school-room.

(4) _Teaching children how to play rightly._ All playgrounds, while in
use, should be supervised by one or more responsible teachers.

CASE 92 (SEVENTH GRADE)

A big snow had fallen, but the weather had soon turned warmer and the
snow had softened just enough to make snowballing good.

[Sidenote: Snowball Contest]

“You may snowball all you want to as long as you keep above the row of
trees,” said the superintendent to the boys.

A fierce battle was going on within the prescribed bounds. The contest
increased in fury and finally one side was driven back.

“Remember the limits!” cautioned one of the pupils.

Most of the boys either forgot to stop or kept running in the excitement
of the game, and rushed far beyond the limits. Then several more were
crowded beyond the limits, and unfairly engaged in the contest from
their new position.

“You’d better quit now or get over with the rest all of you!” shouted
the head of the schools.

Charles stopped for a short time, but in a few moments threw again from
outside of the limits.

“Charles, you go upstairs at once!” were the decisive words of the
superintendent, hurled at the offending boy in a way not to be mistaken.

Charles mounted the stairs without delay and entered the office. The
superintendent soon appeared.

“What did you mean by throwing after I cautioned you, Charles?” asked he
sternly.

“Well—I don’t know. I got lost in the game and didn’t notice what you
said, I guess.”

“Well, what do you think, now?”

“I think we should obey the regulation.”

“Will it be necessary to speak to you more than once the next time?”

“No, it won’t!” said Charles decisively.

“Then you may go.”

Charles left the office, glad to get off as easily as he did. Thereafter
the superintendent watched this boy, but Charles was careful to obey
whatever the teacher told him if the superintendent was within reach.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Some one must attend these children when at play on the school grounds.
Organize the game, mark the boundaries carefully and coach the children
just as in athletics. Have a comrade to attend them when they are
running bases. Call the group together before the game opens; explain
the chief points in the rules. Show what comes of neglecting the
rules—confusion and several other bad things. Prove that just as much
pleasure can be had by following some sort of system as if one goes at
play in a helter-skelter fashion.

COMMENTS

All children must be taught how to play despite the fact that they have
an insatiable appetite to engage in it. Scattering hints will often
suffice and save not only injuries but open infractions of school
regulations.

Self-control is acquired only gradually, hence the orderly play that is
so delightful for pupils in the teens is preceded by a period of
learning.

Most first grade children are afraid to snowball, but in the second
grade boys begin to want to do brave things and in consequence can do
some damage by snowballing. Snowballing should not be considered an
offense. Every teacher knows how he has enjoyed the sport. It is only
the carelessness that may creep into the play that may cause a window to
be broken or some child to be hurt in the eyes, ears, or about the face
or body. It is really necessary that a teacher should teach the pupils
how to snowball, when there is snow on the ground. She should go with
them and enjoy the sport.

ILLUSTRATION (SECOND GRADE)

[Sidenote: Limitations in Play]

“One, two, three,” and all the boys and girls passed out of the room,
Miss O’Gorman following. “Remember now, Phil, no hard snowballs, as I
told you in the school-room.” “Now wait until we get out of reach of the
windows before you begin.” “Are we divided up evenly, just the same
number on both sides? Let’s count and see. Yes, just fifteen on each
side.” “Now, ready, everybody.”

Miss O’Gorman let her ball fly along with the others, as she was to play
a few minutes on each side. She kept a keen eye for illegal conduct and
spurred all of them on in the fine fun.

This had been prearranged with parents’ consent to occur just at the
close of school so that the children could go home and dry up their
clothes at once if it became necessary.

By the end of twenty minutes one side gave away and yielded the honors
to the others and the game ended. On her way home Miss O’Gorman
remarked:

“I like to have the snow come because then I can snowball, but children,
I never make hard balls or throw at a building. I never throw at
anyone’s head. It would make me feel very sad to hurt someone or break a
window.”

Directing the sport of snowballing is far better and wiser than
prohibiting it. The discreet teacher will not even try to suppress it,
but will use every occasion to get into the snow with the boys and girls
and have fun and frolic.

CASE 93 (SIXTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Quarrelsome Play]

“Come on, Mr. Frank, first batter!” “Pitcher!” “Catcher!” “First base!”
Soon every position was filled as the boys and the teacher of the eighth
grade streamed out of the schoolhouse.

“Come on, Mr. Frank, play with us.”

“No, not today, boys. I have something else to do now, I can’t.”

This was the third and last time for the season that the boys of Mount
Holly School urged this young man to enter into his privilege in play.
He stood off and for a few moments closely observed the outcome. The
game started after some parleying, but was soon interrupted by
dissension.

“He’s out.” “You’re out.” “Throw him out.” “I won’t do it,” and scores
of chopped-off utterances filled the air. Ten minutes were lost in hot
argument out of which no one gained the least value. Big boys squeezed
smaller ones out of their turn and these, lacking any opportunity for
play, stood about occupied with gloomy thoughts.

“They don’t get on well together—I wonder what the matter is with these
fellows,” Mr. Frank remarked.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Accept the invitation to play. As a player, take only a player’s part.
No pedagogical authority need be used; but as a private person exercise
a control that will give tone to the whole performance. See that
something like justice is done to all and that the foolish delays are
eliminated.

COMMENTS

Boys little by little acquire a sense of order and often become deeply
offended at the unruly procedure of their comrades. They welcome the
presence of an older hand that steadies affairs and prevents one or two
reckless boys or girls from spoiling the fun of all the rest.

An occasional participation may be all that is needed to institute a
noticeable improvement. Such aid should be given heartily as it is due
to the children in every school.

ILLUSTRATION (FIFTH GRADE)

[Sidenote: Boy’s Letter]

How a child looks upon this matter is seen in the following extract
taken from a boy’s letter:

“We’re having a bully time at school. At recess time teacher plays with
us and after school, too, sometimes.

“We play baseball, and he says we can have a match game if we practice
hard. I’m second baseman. Teacher made the boys let in the little
fellows if they can keep up.

“I hain’t going to miss school nary a day if I can help it. Play’s lots
of fun. We don’t play much in school because we have work to do.

“Hope you’re all well.

                                                                   SAM.”

CASE 94 (SEVENTH AND EIGHTH GRADES)

The Cloverdale Grammar School gave much attention to athletics and
especially tried to encourage the baseball team which had been organized
from the seventh and eighth grades. Mr. Tilden, the principal, was
sincere in his desire that his pupils should engage in the sport, but
having given his verbal encouragement and assistance, it did not occur
to him that his personal presence on the playground was in any degree
necessary to the welfare of the school. He interpolated but on
restriction into the fun: “In order to safeguard our school buildings,”
he said to the boys, “I am going to make one ruling, namely, that you
must not send the balls toward the school building. Any boy who does
that, accidentally or otherwise, must drop out of the game.”

All went well for a few days. The less aggressive among the boys adhered
to the rule strictly. But one day one of the leading boys, Reginald
Coleman, happened to hit the stone foundation of the school building. In
this particular instance the stone foundation was surmounted by brick
walls up to about one-third or one-half the height of the building, then
finished off for the remainder of the distance with wood.

Reginald argued with much boyish eloquence that “the foundation was not
a part of the building, no possible harm would result from hitting it
with the ball, hence it could not be that Mr. Tilden intended to include
that in his prohibition.”

So much in earnest was Reginald in pleading his case that the other boys
were soon won to his way of thinking, and he was allowed to continue in
the game.

For the next few days Reginald’s modification of Mr. Tilden’s rule was
the law of the playground. Then came another issue. Carl Story lost his
balance slightly just as he raised his bat to strike, the result being
that the ball glanced sidewise, striking the brick wall of the school
building. It was now Carl’s turn to present a plea for leniency in the
application of the law.

“Aw, ’tain’t fair to throw that out! It don’t do no more harm to hit the
brick than it does ter hit the stone. That brick’s a part of the
foundation. Didn’t you fellers say the other day that we could hit the
foundation? It’s _all_ foundation up to the top of brick.”

Now Carl happened to be playing in the same nine as Reginald, and
Reginald naturally espoused his cause.

“That’s right, kids,” he joined in, “Carl didn’t hit the building; he
only hit the brick foundation. Let him play on! We don’t want to lose
this game. Go on, Carl”—and Carl finished the game notwithstanding the
protests of the opposing nine.

Thus the modifications of the rules went on from day to day, always in
favor of the larger and stronger and more aggressive boys and always to
the disadvantage of the younger and smaller ones of the opposite side.

CONSTRUCTIVE TREATMENT

Be on the ground when a new game is launched. Study the possibilities
for unfair playing (silently, of course), and make every effort to
establish rules that will be just to all.