The principal seemed to reach very carefully for his next words. He seemed in fact faintly apprehensive. "Mr. Sponsor, under normal circumstances a child's credits from Chicago Classical are acceptable at more than par in the public school system. But this is a case in which the authorities are obliged to exercise jurisdiction."
"Just what do you mean by that?" Celia said angrily.
"Darling," I said patting her hand, "control yourself. Let's try to hear this thing objectively."
"Yes, Mrs. Sponsor, as your husband has said, this is a matter which requires considerable detachment. We two have had a number of conversations in the past year, and I must say candidly that you did not seem to realize the delicacy and seriousness of Edmund's problem. By authorities I mean, of course, the juvenile delinquency courts."
"Now I'm the one who doesn't understand," I said very mildly.
"You are aware, Mr. Sponsor, that aggressive non-competitiveness is carried on the statute books as a misdemeanor."
Scorn and ridicule were in Celia's voice. "But Freddie is a seven-year-old!"
"Quite. But our concern as educators is with the future adult. And unless the child's habits of thought are corrected in the early, formative years, all of his aberrations are magnified by maturity. Would you want your son to grow up a criminal, a seditionist?"
"You need not worry about that," I answered firmly. "I'll take Freddie in hand. He'll learn the value of competition if I have to beat it into him!"