The third stage of punishment is higher still. Jennie is punished in order to reform her. In the previous examples the _act_ was all-important. Now Jennie and her moral condition come into the foreground. None of the younger children take the trouble to explain to Jennie why it was wrong to paint the parlor chairs. A large percentage of the older ones do so explain. A country boy of fourteen says: "I would have took her with me into the parlor, and I would have talked to her about the injury she had done to the chairs, and talked kindly to her, and explained to her that the paints were not what was put on chairs to make them look nice." A girl of sixteen says: "I think that the mother was very unwise to lose her temper over something which the child had done to please her. I think it would have been far wiser in her to have kissed the little one, and then explained to her how much mischief she had done in trying to please her mother." We can see from this study that the children themselves are capable of reaching a rather lofty attitude toward wrong-doing and punishment, yet these children when grown up--that is, we ourselves--so frequently return to a more primitive way of looking at these problems. In punishing our children we go back to the method of the five- and six-year-old. What is the reason for our apparent back-sliding? Is it not plainly the fact that we allow ourselves to be mastered by the animal instinct to strike back? When the child does something that causes annoyance or even damage, do we stop to consider his motive, his "intent," or do we only respond to the _result_ of his action? Do we have a studied policy for treating his offence, or do we slide back to the desire to "get even" or to "pay him" for what he has done? Sometimes a very small offence will have grave consequences, while a really serious fault may cause but little trouble. Here, for instance, is Harry, who was so intent upon chasing the woodchuck that he ran through the new-sown field, trampling down the earth. He caused considerable damage. If your punishment assumes the proportion dictated by the anger which the harm caused, he certainly will be dealt with severely. Knowing that he had not meant to do wrong, he cannot help but feel the injustice of your wrath. Of course, he has been careless and he must be impressed with the harm such carelessness can cause. Whether you lock him in a room or deprive him of some special pleasure, or whether you merely talk to him, depends upon you and upon Harry. But one thing must be certain: Harry must not get the notion that you are avenging yourself upon him for the harm he has done, or for the ill-feeling aroused by his act--he must not feel that "you are taking it out of him" because you have been made angry. This brings us to the old rule: _Never punish in anger_.