feel the call of duty to punish him for his _lies_!

Many of us have realized in a helpless sort of way that there is
need for expert knowledge in these matters, and have comfortably
shifted the responsibility to the teacher. Parents are often heard
to say, when a troublesome youngster is under discussion, "Just wait
until he begins to go to school." It is not wise to wait. There is
much to be done before the school can be thought of, or even before
the kindergarten age is reached. Indeed, a child is never too young
to profit from the application of thought and knowledge to his
treatment.

Of course, the training value of the school's work is not to be
underestimated. The social intercourse that the child experiences
there, the regularity of hours, the teacher's personality, all have
their favorable influence in the molding of the child's character.
But neither must we overestimate the powers of the school. The
school has the child but a few hours a day, for barely more than
half the year; the classes are unconscionably large. We all hope
that the classes will be made smaller, but they never can be small
enough, within our own times, for the purpose of really effective
moral training. The relations between teacher and pupil can never be
as intimate as are those of parent and child. The teacher knows the
child, as a rule, only as a member of a group and under special
circumstances; the parents alone have the opportunity to know
closely the individual peculiarities of the child; they alone can
know him in health and in sickness, in joy and in sorrow, in his
strength and in his weakness. The parents can watch their child from
day to day, year after year; whereas the teacher sees the child for
a comparatively short period of his development, and then passes him