Bill and I were walking down town one September afternoon talking in a friendly way as we were accustomed to do. School was to open the next day, and Bill was to begin his high school course. He seemed more thoughtful than usual; something I could not make out was on his mind.
"What is it, Bill?" I asked finally. "What big scheme are you working out?"
"Won't tomorrow be a wonderful day!" he exclaimed. It was to him the beginning of a new existence.
The entrance of the boy into high school comes at the most critical period of his life. He is fourteen years of age usually, if he is a normal boy, and fourteen marks the dividing line between childhood and youth—childhood which passes all too soon, youth which opens up a thousand possibilities, which stirs a thousand new emotions, new impulses and new desires, which puts before him a thousand opportunities and a thousand new temptations for which he is often unprepared. It is a time of restlessness and change for the boy, perhaps which tends often to
