Raymond Smith had just taken up boxing. He was accustomed to hang around
a gang of street idlers and would-be sports and when any of the number
ventured to put on the gloves he was fully alive to every move they
made.
Not having funds to purchase a pair of gloves he began pummelling
smaller boys, getting some little skill in certain movements imitated
from his larger associates. There was a great deal of bluff and bluster
in his actions and not a small amount of teasing.
[Sidenote: Shaking Fist]
Ellen Moore, teacher, knew boy nature fairly well. She was strict in
conduct but rarely was caught firing her guns at a mere decoy. Raymond
broke over bounds in a harmless fashion in that as she was passing his
desk one afternoon, he doubled up his fist and shoved it in her
direction—an excellent opportunity for rigid discipline. But this is
what happened:
“My, what a large, solid fist you have,” she said in a quiet voice,
quickly moving on to her next duty.
The hand fell. The boy had no clear motive and yet was in a mood where
belligerency would be easily aroused and deeply relished.
No reference was again made to this incident by either, although Miss
Moore took occasion in a few other matters to draw the lines closely on
Raymond that he might clearly sense the limitations that school life
laid upon him.