Nowadays, things are not what they were.
There are no children,—no boys; instead, we have a swarm of little politicians as yet unchristened—a crowd of Machiavellis seen through the wrong end of an opera-glass, who, if they do go to school every day, only do so for the sake of teaching their masters something—the latter being sorely in need of instruction.
What is it that has exterminated our boys from off the face of the earth?
The reading of political papers!
This is a warning to fathers and mothers.
Fathers of families, of course, are perfectly at liberty to buy a daily paper—or two, or five, or ten. For newspapers, even if taken to excess, are like tamarind jelly—if they do no good, they cannot do much harm. They are quite safe, if you know how to read them—the right way of the stuff, like English broadcloth.
But the mischief is this: fathers of families, when they have glanced over the paper, usually leave it on the table, or the sofa, or the mantelpiece—in short, in one of many places that are within sight and reach of small boys. This is great imprudence; because we must remember that our boys are victims to a gluttonous, eager, devouring passion for the reading of political papers. Perhaps this is an outcome of that inborn instinct which shows itself at a very early age in the love for fables and fairy tales.
Then begin the troubles in the family.
A small boy comes with the newspaper in his hand and asks, his mother—
“Do tell me, mamma, what is the difference between ‘Authentic News’ and ‘Various News’?”