store-rooms, and offices.  It was the hour of recess, and from the school-rooms rushed forth a joyous company of children, plainly clad, and evidently belonging to the peasant class; but though the marks of an early career of vice were stamped on many of their countenances, yet there were not a few bright eyes, and intelligent, thoughtful faces.  Seeing Dr. Wichern, they came at once to him, with the impulsiveness of childhood, but with so evident a sense of propriety and decorum, that I would not but compare their conduct with that of many pupils in our best schools, and not to the advantage of the latter.  The Doctor received them cordially, and had a kind word for each, generally in reference to their improvement in behavior, or their influence over others.

“This,” said he, turning to me, as a bright, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired boy seized his hand, “is one of our peace boys.”

I did not understand what he meant by the term, and said so.

“Our peace boys,” he replied, “are selected from the most trustworthy and exemplary of our pupils, to aid in superintending the others.  They have no authority to command, or even reprove; but only to counsel and remind.  To be selected for this duty is one of their highest rewards.”

“There must be among so many boys,” I remarked, “and particularly those taken from such sources, a considerable number of born-destructives,—­children in whom the propensity to break, tear, and destroy is almost ineradicable; how do you manage these?”

“In the earlier days of our experiment,” he replied, “we had much trouble from this source; but at last we hit upon the plan of allowing each boy a certain sum of pocket-money, and deducting from this, in part at least, the estimated value of whatever he destroyed.  From the day this rule was adopted all destructible articles seemed to have lost a great part of their fragility.”

“Do the pupils often run away?” I asked.

“Very seldom, of late years; formerly we were occasionally troubled in that way.  It was, of course, easy for them to do it, as no fences or other methods of restraint were used,—­our reliance being upon affection, to retain them.  If they made their escape, we usually sought them out, and persuaded them to return, and they seldom repeated the offence.  Some years ago, one of our boys, who had repeatedly tried our patience by his waywardness, ran away.  I pursued him, found him, and persuaded him to return.  It was Christmas eve when we arrived, and this festival was always celebrated in my mother’s chamber.  As we entered the room, the children were singing the Christmas hymns.  As he appeared, they manifested strong disapprobation of his conduct.  They were told that they might decide among themselves how he should be punished.  They consulted together quietly for a few moments, and then one, who had himself been forgiven some time before for a like fault, came forward, and, bursting into tears, pleaded that the