"What had happened?"
"Kin Thung was a quick-tempered boy. In addition to that, he was of a sullen make-up, with, what I call, a criminal tendency in him. That, added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the school. For instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry, turn sullen and refuse to answer."
"Why didn't you fire him?" I said.
"That would have been the easy thing to do. I preferred to win him rather than to fire him!"
I felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the zenith.
"No, I didn't fire him."
"What did you do?"
"As I was dressing the boy's wound Kin Thung stood looking on, utterly expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen.
"I didn't say anything to Kin that night, save to ask him to come to the office the next day.
"The other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and I could hear them through the window, 'I wonder how many strokes of the rattan he will get?' for that is one of our forms of punishment.