"Philemon, Philemon," she said sadly, "How much more wisdom you are manifesting in the breaking-in of the farm colts than in the training of the boys. I am beginning to fear that you will be much better served by the former than by the latter. If you would but exercise your God-given authority over them and uphold mine we might hope for better results. The boys are getting beyond control, and why? Because, though I am teaching them in theory the right way, you are not insisting upon the practice of such theories. Words will not curb the exuberance of spirits nor check the waywardness of a young horse. If left to himself he will go where he wills. He must be trained with gentleness, but with firmness, and so with our children." "My dear," he said, "your ideals are above me, and are as unlikely to be adopted by ordinary men of the world as the ideals of John Bunyan or Richard Baxter." "I see, I see," she said, with a voice thrilling with emotion. "You hold up before them hopes of future greatness or wealth as a stimulant to goodness, studiousness, industry, that they may become 'ordinary men of the world.' My ambition has ever been to train them for God and His service." "And you propose to do that," he said, coldly, "by coersion, canings, imprisonments, fines." "Not at all," she replied. "A child trained from infancy in habits of obedience can generally be managed without chastisement and will obey from a sense of duty rather than from fear of chastisement." "All very beautiful in theory," said the father, with a yawn, as he stretched himself to his full length, "but the Indian theory in my opinion is the best. They allow their children to do as they please and never check them, and what is the result? A self-reliant, independent people; a people who have not been deprived of strength of character or will power by constant subjection to the will of others; a people who, until spoiled by contact with unchristian whites, have followed the dictates of conscience rather than a code of prohibitory laws; a people who scorn mean, dishonorable transactions." "Of two things I am convinced," said Mrs. Wright, thoughtfully, "'a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame,' and his father also, for that matter, and that if we secure the formation of right principles at an early age we may with confidence give them their emancipation long before they grow up." Suddenly the door opened and an Indian entered. Though covered with snow from head to foot, they recognized the chief, Machecawa. Without a word he drew through the open door a toboggan, upon which lay his squaw in an almost dying condition. At her bosom was a tiny babe, two days old.