Witness how enthusiastically a group of boys will accept the suggestion of an adult who proposes a new game, sport, manual activity, or work along the lines of social or civil service! A patrol of Boy Scouts, under the suggestion of their Master, provided food, fuel, and clothing for three destitute families during a winter of unusual severity, until the heads of these families had recovered from sickness and resumed their places as breadwinners. The intensity of their boyish enthusiasm for this work of charity drove from their minds all thought of the peccadillos which, to a greater or lesser degree, occupy the minds of idle youths. The idle brain is still the devil’s workshop. The boy hails as a friend and companion the adult who understands his needs and who points out to him the clean activities which he loves and for which he is blindly groping. No one is more “open to suggestion” than the boy. One winter’s day a gentleman encountered a lot gang who had captured a stray cur, bound him to a post, and were bombarding him with snow balls and chunks of ice as an expression of their desire for mental and physical excitement. The yelps of pain which told that the missiles had found their mark were greeted with shouts of exultation. Instead of reproving them for their cruelty, he incited their curiosity by tactfully inquiring if they had a mascot. On receiving a negative answer, he suggested that every crowd of boys ought to have a mascot and then began to discuss the fine points of the cur--more or less hidden from the non-expert eye--and finally suggested that the dog would make an ideal mascot, provided the boys knew how to take proper care of an animal occupying such an exalted station. Spontaneous yells of assent elected the dog to this honor and then the crowd, at the suggestion of the adult, spent the remainder of the day bringing him food and building a kennel which was copiously furnished with discarded bed coverings, after which, on their own initiative, they combed his hair and manicured his claws until he presented the well-groomed appearance of a lady of fashion. Many subsequent hours were spent in earning pennies with which they purchased a license and a collar on which was a plate engraved with the name “Rags” which had been unanimously conferred on him. The quarrels and disputes which arose over their respective rights to the possession of the dog were settled, at the suggestion of this same gentleman, by the organization of the gang into a club which elected officers and adopted by-laws, the president of which awarded the custody of the dog daily in turn to each member--beginning with himself. The necessity for more pets to occupy their attention resulted in the addition of a rabbit, two chickens, a guinea pig and a goat to their embryonic menagerie. Their next step was the giving of a “show” (admission one cent) in which the menagerie was the chief attraction, closely followed in popular favor by “Rags”