One day Samuel Howard, a boy smaller than himself, was flying his kite.  There was a fine breeze, and the kite floated beautifully in the air.  Charles seized the twine, and began to pull in the kite.  Samuel remonstrated with him; but the more he remonstrated the more ugly was Charles.  He pulled in the kite, tore it all to pieces, and broke and snarled the twine.  Samuel cried at the loss of his pretty kite, and Charles Duran was mean enough to mimic the boy whom he had thus injured.

At another time, a little girl, whose name was Helen Fay, was returning from school:  Charles threw a stone, and hit her on the cheek-bone.  It cut a great gash in her face, and made the blood run freely.  Had the stone struck a little higher, it would probably have put out her eye; as it was, her face was badly scarred.

A poor widow lady lived some distance beyond Mr. Duran’s house.  She had two dear little children, John and Louisa, whom she sent to school.  This poor mother was industrious and very neat, and her children were always dressed in neat, clean clothes.  Charles Duran, who was out of his element when he was not in mischief, seemed to take delight in tormenting these little children.  On their way from school one day, when they had on their nice clothes, he covered them from head to foot with dirt and mud.  In that sad plight John and Louisa went home crying.  Their mother felt as badly as they did, when she saw the ugliness of her neighbor’s spoiled child.

So constantly was Charles injuring the smaller boys and girls in the school that none of them loved him.  If he got hurt, none of them pitied him.  The whole school seemed glad, one day, when he had shoved a little girl into a mud-puddle, and upset an inkstand on a boy’s writing-book, and spoiled it, to see the master give him a severe whipping,—­such as he deserved.

It is not agreeable to dwell longer upon the conduct of this boy in school.  He became so quarrelsome and disagreeable that no one was willing to sit next to him.  He was always spoken of as the worst boy in school.

Mr. Spicer was now his teacher, and he had borne with him till he could bear with him no longer.  He had pretty much made up his mind that he would turn him out of his school.  Before doing that, however, he was desirous of knowing the minds of his scholars.  He called the school to order, and then told Charles what he had thought of doing; reminded him of his disobedience, of his unkindness to his school-mates, and of his general neglect of his studies.  He told him if he did not do differently he would grow up without friends, and, in all probability, in consequence of his sins, come down to an early grave.

Mr. Spicer then addressed the scholars, and said, “All of you who think Charles Duran ought to be expelled from the school for continued bad conduct, raise your right hands.”  In a moment every right hand was raised up!

Then Mr. Spicer said, in a solemn and affecting manner, "Charles Duran, with the voice of all your school-mates, you are expelled from this school, for bad conduct."