desperate joys of disobedience.

But even the naughty child is an individual, and must not be treated in
the mass. He is numerous indeed, but not general, and to describe him
you must take the unit, with all his incidents and his organic qualities
as they are. Take then, for instance, one naughty child in the reality
of his life. He is but six years old, slender and masculine, and not
wronged by long hair, curls, or effeminate dress. His face is delicate
and too often haggard with tears of penitence that Justice herself would
be glad to spare him. Some beauty he has, and his mouth especially is so
lovely as to seem not only angelic but itself an angel. He has
absolutely no self-control and his passions find him without defence.
They come upon him in the midst of his usual brilliant gaiety and cut
short the frolic comedy of his fine spirits.

Then for a wild hour he is the enemy of the laws. If you imprison him,
you may hear his resounding voice as he takes a running kick at the door,
shouting his justification in unconquerable rage. "I'm good now!" is
made as emphatic as a shot by the blow of his heel upon the panel. But
if the moment of forgiveness is deferred, in the hope of a more promising
repentance, it is only too likely that he will betake himself to a
hostile silence and use all the revenge yet known to his imagination.
"Darling mother, open the door!" cries his touching voice at last; but if
the answer should be "I must leave you for a short time, for punishment,"
the storm suddenly thunders again. "There (crash!) I have broken a
plate, and I'm glad it is broken into such little pieces that you can't
mend it. I'm going to break the 'lectric light." When things are at
this pass there is one way, and only one, to bring the child to an
overwhelming change of mind; but it is a way that would be cruel, used
more than twice or thrice in his whole career of tempest and defiance.