I; yonder is the colt.  I want him; he doesn’t want me.  He will not come to me; so I must go to him.  Then, what?  Oh, yes, native interests—­that’s it, native interests.  I’m much obliged to Professor James for reminding me.  Now, just what are the native interests of a colt?  Why, oats, of course.  So, I must return to the barn and get a pail of oats.  An empty pail might do once, but never again.  So I must have oats in my pail.  Either a colt or a boy becomes shy after he has once been deceived.  The boy who fails to get oats in the classroom to-day, will shy off from the teacher to-morrow.  He will not even accept her statement that there is oats in the pail, for yesterday the pail was empty—­nothing but sound.

But even with pail and oats I had to go to the colt, getting my shoes soiled and my clothes torn, but there was no other way.  I must begin where the colt (or boy) is, as the book on pedagogy says.  I wanted to stay on the hill where everything was agreeable, but that wouldn’t get the colt.  Now, if Mr. Charles H. Judd cares to elaborate this outline, I urge no objection and shall not claim the protection of copyright.  I shall be only too glad to have him make clear to all of us the pedagogical recipe for catching colts and boys.

CHAPTER II

RETROSPECT

Mr. Patrick Henry was probably correct in saying that there is no way of judging the future but by the past, and, to my thinking, he might well have included the present along with the future.  Today is better or worse than yesterday or some other day in the past, just as this cherry pie is better or worse than some past cherry pie.  But even this pie may seem a bit less glorious than the pies of the past, because of my jaded appetite—­a fact that is easily lost sight of.  Folks who extol the glories of the good old times may be forgetting that they are not able to relive the emotions that put the zest into those past events.  We used to go to “big meeting” in a two-horse sled, with the wagon-body half filled with hay and heaped high with blankets and robes.  The mercury might be low in the tube, but we recked not of that.  Our indifference to climatic conditions was not due alone to the wealth of robes and blankets, but the proximity of another member of the human family may have had something to do with it.  If we could reconstruct the emotional life of those good old times, the physical conditions would take their rightful place as a background.

If we could only bring back the appetite of former years we might find this pie better than the pies of old.  The good brother who seems to think the textbooks of his boyhood days were better than the modern ones forgets that along with the old-time textbooks went skating, rabbit-hunting, snowballing, coasting, fishing, sock-up, bull-pen, two-old-cat, townball, and shinny-on-the-ice.  He is probably confusing those majors with the text-book minor.