“What is the difference between a poor excuse for being late at
school and a real reason for being late? Give an example.” Out
come examples of oversleeping or dilly-dallying as contrasted
with the unavoidable fact that the cars were blocked. “An excuse
is hollow; a real reason is stout and whole.” “An excuse is a
method of concealment; a good reason is its own justification.”
So write my girls. One delightful girl of twelve explained,
“This morning I was late but I had a real reason. When I went
up-stairs after breakfast to feed my animals, my favorite
guinea-pig, Christopher Columbus, was so sick that he could
hardly stand up. I had to stay and make him comfortable, and
so I was late to school. But the teacher said it was a good
reason.” Echoes of the difference between poor excuses and good
reasons resound for several weeks. “To-day I have no reason for
being late, only an excuse. I didn’t know what time it was, but
then I ought to have found out.”
With older pupils I take up more complicated cases illustrating
the tendency of any selfish person to deceive himself or
herself. “I am traveling from New Hampshire to Boston with a
large number of bundles and am delighted to secure an extra
seat on which to deposit them. Gradually the car fills up
and all who pass by look wistfully at my seat. If I continue
to keep my parcels on it by what arguments can I pretend that
it is right?” We bring out together all the half-conscious
sophistry that clings like a burr to selfishness. “There may be
seats farther on; if they want the seat they can ask for it;
it would only crowd any one to sit with me; it is really more
comfortable for her to stand.” Every one in the class realizes
that these excuses are weak subterfuges; for as one girl said,
“Such sputtering people deceive themselves.”--ELLA LYMAN
CABOT, “Proceedings of the National Education Association,”
1909.
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