but in another mood I might say the rose. I do wonder if, in those
books back yonder, I ever said sunflower, dandelion, dahlia, fuchsia,
or daisy. If I should find that I said heliotrope, I'd give my
adolescence a pretty high grade. If I were using one of these books
in my school, and some boy should name the sunflower as his favorite,
I'd find myself facing a big problem to get him converted to the
lily-of-the-valley, and I really do not know quite how I should
proceed. It might not help him much for me to ask him: "Don't you
wish you could?" If I should let him know that my favorite is the
lily-of-the-valley, he might name that flower as the line of least
resistance to my approval and a high grade, with the mental
reservation that the sunflower is the most beautiful plant that
grows. Such a course might gratify me, but it certainly would not
make for his progress toward the lily-of-the-valley, nor yet for the
salvation of his soul.

I have a boy of my own, but have never had the courage to ask him
what kind of father he thinks he has. He might tell me. Again I am
facing a dilemma. Dilemmas are quite plentiful hereabouts. I must
determine whether to regard him as an asset or a liability. But,
that is not the worst of my troubles. I plainly see that sooner or
later he is going to decide whether his father is an asset or a
liability. We must go over our books some day so as to find out
which of us is in debt to the other. I know that I owe him his
chance, but parents often seem backward about paying their debts to
their children, and I'm wondering whether I shall be able to cancel
that debt, to his present and ultimate satisfaction. I'd be
decidedly uncomfortable, years hence, to find him but "the runt of
something good" because I had failed to pay that debt. When I was a
lad they used to say that I was stubborn, but that may have been my