ty man. The domineering
egotist boy became the domineering egotist man.

The boy who traded knives with me and beat me--how I used to envy him!
Why was it he could always get the better of me? Well, he went on
trading knives and getting the better of people. Now, twenty-one years
afterwards, he was doing time in the state penitentiary for forgery. He
was now called a bad man, when twenty-one years ago when he did the
same things on a smaller scale they called him smart and bright.

The "perfectly lovely" boy who didn't mix with the other boys, who
didn't whisper, who never got into trouble, who always had his hair
combed, and said, "If you please," used to hurt me. He was the
teacher's model boy. All the mothers of the community used to say to
their own reprobate offspring, "Why can't you be like Harry? He'll be
President of the United States some day, and you'll be in jail." But
Model Harry sat around all his life being a model. I believe Mr.
Webster defines a model as a small imitation of the real thing. Harry
certainly was a successful model. He became a seedy, sleepy, helpless
relic at forty. He was "perfectly lovely" because he hadn't the energy
to be anything else. It was the boys who had the hustle and the energy,
who occasionally needed bumping--and who got it--who really grew.

I have said little about the girls of the school. Fact was, at that age
I didn't pay much attention to them. I regarded them as in the way. But
I naturally thought of Clarice, our social pet of the class--our real
pretty girl who won the vase in the home paper beauty contest. Clarice
went right on remaining in the social spotlight, primping and flirting.
She outshone all the rest. But it seemed like she was all out-shine and
no in-shine. She mistook popularity for success. The boys voted for
her, but did not marry her. Most of the girls who shone with less
social luster became the happy homemakers of the community.

But as I looked into the face of Jim Lambert in the picture, my heart
warmed at the sight of another great success--a sweet-faced irish lass
who became an "old maid." She had worked day by day all these years to
support a home and care for her family. She had kept her grace and
sweetness thru it all, and the influence of her white, loving life
radiated far.

The Boy I Had Envied

Frank was the boy I had envied. He had everything--a fine home, a
loving father, plenty of money, opportunity and a great career await