BY ELEANOR B. WORCESTER
At last the time has come when you feel that it is best for your boy to study with other children. And since your own town does not offer him a suitable opportunity, it is necessary to send the little fellow to one of the well-known boarding schools, where trained and wise men and women are devoting their thought and energy to giving every advantage of education, comfort, and happiness to the little people under their care.
You have already decided, after much thought and the writing of many letters—perhaps after a visit to the school you incline to most—just where it is best that the child shall go.
You have studied carefully all the directions about clothing given in the school catalogue, and have made sure that every little blouse or stocking has its owner's name written or sewed fast on it, and that all the small garments are in perfect order and ready for use.
But have you thought how your own attitude toward this change in your boy's life is unconsciously preparing him either to rebel against and fear school, or to look forward to going there as one of the most delightful and interesting events of his life?
I know that it is impossible for you to avoid dreading the day when your child must go among strangers, but I beg you not to let him see what your feeling is. It will take all your resolution and all your courage to wear not only a cheerful face, but a happy one; but you must make your boy feel that a very delightful time is coming.
If you go about the necessary preparations as you might if he were going to the show or on a visit, he will enter into the spirit of things with enthusiasm; but if you once let him find you crying over his packing he will immediately jump to the conclusion that some dreadful thing is in prospect, and will be entirely prepared to be frightened at being left at school, and to break your heart by clinging to you and begging to go home again. And, more than this, he will be far more likely to be homesick.
So, since you know it is best for him to be in school, and that it is the only possible road to happiness and usefulness, why not lead him to anticipate the going; to look forward to it as a treat, and to feel that to be a schoolboy is really the great end of existence?
One of the first steps in this direction will be to help him understand a little what kind of a place he is bound for.
Very likely the school you have decided on publishes an illustrated catalogue, and weeks before school opens begin to show him the pictures of the school buildings and grounds, and make him understand that on a certain day in September, which you mark on the calendar with bright crayon, you and he will go there. Let him see one of the little white beds where he will sleep after you return home, the sunny dining room where he will eat his morning porridge and his Sunday ice cream; the playground full of rollicksome youngsters, with whom he will seesaw and play tag by and by, and the busy schoolroom, where so many delightful and interesting things are sure to happen.