"If," said His Honor, "you can't find any fun during childhood, you naturally won't look for it as you grow up to maturity. You will grow 'hard,' and look upon fun as foolish. Also, if you don't furnish fun for a child, don't look for it to grow up bright, happy and loving. So, always put in a child's path an opportunity to watch, talk about, and know, as many good things as you can." Lady Gadsby, from a parlor window, said: "Practicing for a stumping tour, or a political pow-wow?" "Ha, ha! No. Just thinking out loud." So, as thinking cannot hurt anybody, His Honor was soon going on:-- "Affairs which look small or absurd to a full-grown man may loom up as big as a mountain to a child; and you shouldn't allow a fact that you saw a thing 'so much that I am sick of it,' to turn you away from an inquiring child. _You_ wasn't sick of it, on that far-past day on which you first saw it. I always look back, happily and proudly, to taking a small girl to our City Florist's big glass building; to a group at our Night Court; a group finding out about dispatching our mail; and our circus! Boy! That _was_ fun! Our awarding diplomas at City Hall; tiny Marian at our airport's inauguration; our Manual Training School graduation. _All_ that did a big lot toward showing Youth that this big world is 'not half bad,' if adults will but watch, aid, and coach. And I _will not_ stand anybody's snapping at a child! Particularly a tiny tot. If you think that you _must_ snap, snap at a child so big as to snap back. I don't sanction 'talking back' to adults, but, ha, ha! I _did_ find a grand, big _wallop_ in Marian's April Fool cigar! Woo! _Did_ Old Bill jump!! But that did no harm, and a sad young mind found a way to 'match things up' with an antagonist. Now, just stand a child up against your body. How tall is it? Possibly only up to your hip. Still, a man,--or an animal _thinking_ that it is a man--will slap, whip, or viciously _yank_ an arm of so frail, so soft a tiny body! _That_ is what _I_ call a _coward!!_ By golly! almost a _criminal!_ If a tot is what you call naughty, (and no child voluntarily is,) why not lift that young body up onto your lap, and talk--_don't shout_--about what it just did? Shouting gains nothing with a tot. Man can shout at Man, at dogs, and at farm animals; but a man who shouts at a child is, at that instant, _sinking in his own muck of bullyism_; and bullyism is a sin, if anything in this world is. Ah! _Youth!_ You glorious dawn of Mankind! You bright, happy, glowing morning Sun; not at full brilliancy of noon, I know, but unavoidably on your way! _Youth!_ How I do thrill at taking your warm, soft hand; walking with you; talking with you; but, most important of all, _laughing_ with you! _That_ is Man's pathway to glory. A man who drops blossoms in passing, will carry joy to folks along his way; a man who drops crumbs will also do a kindly act; but a man who drops kind words to a sobbing child will find