, but once beyond the school limits it
returns to nature. It is a bright, foaming torrent. Not a moment is
wasted. The little girls are at once exchanging confidences, and the
little boys are in Valhalla, where the heroes make friends with one
another by indulging in everlasting assault and battery, and continually
arise "refreshed with blows." There is no question about their being all
alive and actively interested in one another. All the natural reactions
are exhibited in the most interesting manner.

Then you get into a street car, invented by an ingenious misanthropist
to give you the most unfavorable view possible of your kind. On entering
you choose a side, unless you are condemned to be suspended in the
middle. Then you look at your antagonists on the opposite side. What a
long, unrelenting row of humanity! These are the grown-ups. You look for
some play of emotion, some evidence of curiosity, pleasure,
exhilaration, such as you might naturally expect from those who are
taking a little journey in the world.

Not a sign of any such emotion do you discern. They are not adventuring
into a wonder-world. They are only getting over the ground. One feels
like putting up a notice: "Lost, somewhere on the road between infancy
and middle age, several valuable faculties. The finder will find
something to his advantage."

I have no quarrel with Old Age. It should be looked upon as a reward of
merit to be cheerfully striven for.

Old Age hath still his honor and his toil.

Nor do I object to the process of growth. It belongs to the order of
nature. Growing is like falling,--it is all right so long as you keep
on; the trouble comes when you stop.

What I object to is the fatalistic way in which people acquiesce in the
arrest of their own mental development. Adolescence is exciting. All
sorts of things are happening, and more are promised. Life rushes on
with a sweet tumult. All things seem possible. It seems as if a lot of
the unfinished business of the world is about to be put through with
enthusiasm. Then, just as the process has had a fair start, some evil
spirit intervenes and says: "Time's up! You've grown all you are to be
allowed to. Now you must settle down,--and be quick about it! No more
adolescing; you are adults!"

Poor adults! Nature seems to have been like an Indian giver, taking away
the gifts as soon as they are received,--

The gifts of morn
Ere life grows no