“Now what do you think I ought to do with such a boy?”

No answer.

“Perhaps I ought to punish him, but I am very unwilling to do that.  I concluded to try another plan—­to treat him with kindness and forbearance.  So I called your attention to it this afternoon, to let him know that I was observing it, and to give him an opportunity to remove the string.  And he did.  He went, in the recess, and cut off the string.  I shall not tell you his name, for I do not wish to injure his character.  All I want is to have him a good boy.”

A pause.

“I think I shall try this plan, for he must have some feelings of honor and gratitude, and if he has, he certainly will not try to give me pain or trouble again after this.  And now I shall say no more about it, nor think any more about it; only, to prove that it is all as I say, if you look there under that window after school, you will see the lath with the end of the string round it, and, by pulling it, you can make it snap.”

Another case, a little more serious in its character, is the following: 

A teacher, having had some trouble with a rude and savage-looking boy, made some inquiry respecting him out of school, and incidentally learned that he had once or twice before openly rebelled against the authority of the school, and that he was now, in the recesses, actually preparing a club, with which he was threatening to defend himself if the teacher should attempt to punish him.

The next day, soon after the boys had gone out, he took his hat and followed them, and, turning round a corner of the school-house, found the boys standing around the young rebel, who was sitting upon a log, shaving the handle of the club smooth with his pocket-knife.  He was startled at the unexpected appearance of the teacher, and the first impulse was to hide his club behind him; but it was too late, and, supposing that the teacher was ignorant of his designs, he went on sullenly with his work, feeling, however, greatly embarrassed.

“Pleasant day, boys,” said the teacher.  “This is a fine sunny nook for you to talk in.

“Seems to me, however, you ought to have a better seat than this old log,” continued he, taking his seat at the same time by the side of the boy.

“Not so bad a seat, however, after all.  What are you making, Joseph?”

Joseph mumbled out something inarticulate by way of reply.  “I have got a sharper knife,” said he, drawing his penknife out of his pocket.  And then, “Let me try it,” he continued, gently taking the club out of Joseph’s hand.

The boys looked surprised, some exchanged nods and winks, others turned away to conceal a laugh; but the teacher engaged in conversation with them, and soon put them all at their ease except poor Joseph, who could not tell how this strange interview was likely to end.

In the mean time, the teacher went on shaving the handle smooth and rounding the ends.  “You want,” said he, “a rasp or coarse file for the ends, and then you could finish it finely.  But what are you making this formidable club for?”