converted me to the opposite theory. I was principal of a school with an enrollment of several hundred boys, a good many of them of high school age. They were rough, ill-trained, and notoriously hard to control and had driven out more than one timid teacher before my arrival. For two weeks I got on with them moderately well without Jaying a hand on any one. I was pleasant and firm; I took a good many of their pranks lightly, with the hope that if I did not notice their deviltries too much they would be discontinued.
I was quite mistaken, however. The boys misinterpreted my point of view entirely. They thought me soft-hearted, afraid to wield the willow switch, a weakling, in fact. It was only after I had soundly thrashed a half dozen or so of the leaders that they had any respect for me. They all adored physical strength, and those whom I castigated most vigorously were throughout my régime the most docile and they love me today.
If the boy develops a taste for reading at this point in his life, and it is well if he does, it is no sentimental stuff such as his sister dotes on, that pleases his taste. War and bloodshed and adventure hold him. Strategy and deep-laid plots and hairbreadth escapes are to his liking. Indians and burglars and highwaymen are his ideals. He courts danger and adores exhibitions of physical courage. He will probably break a bone or two in attempting to emulate the physical stunts which most please him. If he ever runs away from home it will be now, and most normal boys
