"'Spell what, Henry?'
"'Jehu.'
"'What in the world are you trying to say, boy?'
"'I am trying to tell how fast a fire engine driver goes—as fast as a chariot driver in the time of King David, I think it was.'
"'Well, Henry, I think you had better say the engine driver drove as fast as an ancient charioteer.'"
"And did you?" I asked.
"No, sir; I said, 'he was driving like mad.'"
It is plain that this grammar-school teacher had never heard of the Bible character who had interested her pupil, but the author of this book knows how to spell "Jehu" to a questioning boy, or to a "gang" of boys, or to a Sunday-school class of boys.
Is there any boy who does not have a motor in his mind? A writer of a method article in a recent issue of The Sunday School Times related an incident of a chap whom he described as "a motor-minded boy." He said that he was sitting on top of a school desk at recess, kicking back with his heels, and when asked what he was thinking about, replied: "I was wondering, if my legs were horses, how fast they would go!"
It was with a realization of the fact that when a class of Sunday-school boys assembles, their instinct is of one accord to turn their legs into horses and to drive them as Jehu drove his pair of Arabs, that our paper requested Wade Smith to take charge of its Lesson Help for boys' classes. The management realized the truth of the statement of Dr. Walter W. Moore, President of Union Theological Seminary at Richmond, Va., when he said that Mr. Smith was the most versatile man whom he ever knew.