mind it so much. That boy would be willing to go to
sleep on a railway track if I told him I'd stand between him and the
express train. If I told him I could hammer down Gibraltar with putty
he'd believe it, and bring me his putty-blower to help along in the
great work. That's why I think a man's so much better off if he is a
father. Somebody has fixed a standard for him which, while he may know
he can't live up to it, he'll try to live up to, and by aiming high he
won't be so apt to hit low as he otherwise might. As Sammie's father
once said to me: 'By Jove, Idiot,' he said, 'if men could _only_ be what
their children think them!'"

"Nevertheless they should be governed, curbed, brought up!" said the
Bibliomaniac.

"They should, indeed," said the Idiot. "And in such a fashion that when
they are governed, curbed, and brought up they do not realize that they
have been governed, curbed, and brought up. The man who plays the tyrant
with his children isn't the man for me. Give me the man who, like my
father, is his son's intimate, personal friend, his confidant, his chum.
It may have worked badly in my case. I don't think it has--in any event,
if I were ever the father of a boy I'd try to make him feel that I was
not a despot in whose hands he was powerless, but a mainstay to fall
back on when things seemed to be going wrong--fountain-head of good
advice, a sympathizer--in short, a chum."

"You certainly draw a pleasant picture," said Mr. Whitechoker, kindly.

"Thank you," said the Idiot. "It's not original with me. My father drew
it. But despite my personal regard for Sammie, I do think something
ought to be done to alleviate the sufferings of the parent. Take the
mother of a boy like Sammie, for instance. She has him all day and
generally all night. Sammie's father goes to business at eight o'clock
and returns at six, thinking he has worked hard, and wonders why it is
that Sammie's mother looks so confoundedly tired. It makes him slightly
irritable. She has been at home taking things easy all day. He has been
in town working like a dog. What right has she to be tired? He doesn't
realize that she has had to entertain Sammie at those hours of the day
when Sammie is in his best form. She has found him trying to turn
somersaults at the top of the back stairs; she has patiently borne his
musical efforts on the piano, upon which he practises daily for a few
minutes, generally with a hammer or a stick, or something else equal