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 himself or his parent so skillfully as to offset the handicap; but these cases are rare.

At this point I hear the indignant protesting mother saying, "Well, I'm perfectly certain that I have not spoiled my boy," and she launches out into a detailed recital of all his virtues and accomplishments and of the rigidty of her personal régime. I have heard the story so often and so vividly presented that I could recite it from memory without prompting, and sometimes I have been glad to admit that it was true.

"What is the matter with Percy?" the mother of an only child said to me a few days ago. "He works hard, he loves his work, but he doesn't get on."

"He is a spoiled boy," was my reply, "who neither loves his work nor works hard. He is a bluffer who works upon your sympathies by a recital of his woes and endeavors, and the results bring him more money and more privileges." She was a loving, indulgent, anxious mother who believed everything that her boy told her as if it had been gospel, and made adequate explanation of every dereliction and irregularity of which he was guilty. Her boy had not escaped the handicap.

I was talking to the father of a freshman who had failed in his college course completely. The boy was intellectually bright, but he had not studied, he had not gone to class, and he had fallen into bad ways and wasted his time generally.

"What is the matter with the boy?" the father asked. "Why has he failed?"

I did not answer for a moment, and then I met his inquiry by asking a second question.