Laughing in a proper way will hurt no one, and is by no means a misdemeanor. It does children good to laugh and would sweeten the lives of many soured teachers if they would laugh more. Often all the pupils seem to want to laugh. The discreet teacher will let them have their laugh; he will join with them. When the fun is over, he will say, “Now let us all get busy.” If there is a tendency for the laughing to become too boisterous, he may say pleasantly, “I like to see people have fun, but if you will remember to laugh quietly when anything funny happens, I shall appreciate it very much.” CASE 65 (FIFTH GRADE) [Sidenote: Giggling at Nothing] Miss Mayne’s room was as still as a busy school-room can be, when a little crackling giggle broke the stillness. Such a noise always stirred Miss Mayne, who prided herself upon her discipline, as a fly stirs a light sleeper. It affected her as a personal affront. “Marian, what are you giggling about?” “Nothing,” says Marian in a stifled voice. “Don’t tell me that. What were you giggling about?” “I don’t know. The other girls were, and I giggled, too.” “Mattie, were you giggling?” “Yes, ma’am, I s’pose I was. But I don’t know what I was giggling about, either.” “Well, then, I think I’d stop. I can’t see the sense in laughing about nothing. Let’s have no more of it.” Silence for a little while. Then a perfect gale of chirping, gurgling, little-girl laughter—as cheerful a human sound as exists for the child-lover, perhaps because of its very meaninglessness, its spontaneity, its birth in healthy animal spirits. But Miss Mayne must uphold her reputation as a disciplinarian. And this time she knows who started the epidemic. “Lulu, you began that giggling, didn’t you?” “Yes, ma’am.” “What is so funny?” “I don’t know, Miss Mayne, truly I don’t. I just have the giggles.” “I never heard of anything as senseless as this thing you call ‘the giggles.’ You may come up here and stand in the corner until you get over ‘the giggles.’” Up to this time Lulu had been simply a lively little girl with impulses under poor control; but at this punishment she became a resentful one. At first she was inclined to turn around and make faces at the other girls, but, as they were afraid to smile in appreciation, this grew monotonous, and soon Lulu began to think of herself as badly abused. She had never been taught at home that giggling is a sin; she had an idea that she was very unjustly treated, and her sense of fairness was outraged.