[Sidenote: Goldfish]
Rudolph was a mischievous, meddlesome boy. At least his teacher, Miss
Green, thought so. He was forever bringing to school grasshoppers,
toads, white mice, fish-worms and small snakes. He delighted in
tormenting the little girls by parading his pets when Miss G. was not
looking.
One day in geography class he drew from his pocket a toad, and sent it
hopping down the aisle. The toad performed its feats gracefully and the
children on both sides of the aisle watched it with keen interest, the
boys leaning over in order to see it better, and the girls drawing their
skirts around them and uttering little broken exclamations. Miss G.,
sitting at her desk, could not see the disturbing toad and corrected the
children several times for making so much noise.
Then, at last, she saw the toad, and anticipating its source, told
Rudolph to take the toad to his home.
In the meantime Miss G. had formulated a plan to outwit and interest
Rudolph.
The next day at recess, Miss G. called Rudolph to her and said,
“Rudolph, I’m going to bring some goldfish to school and I want you to
take care of them.”
Now this just suited Rudolph, for he had always admired the goldfish he
had seen in the pond in Central Park and was anxious to have some to
take care of himself. He was at school early next morning and fed the
fish before school began.
For two weeks he daily changed the water on the fish and fed them every
day. Then Miss G. passed the privilege of caring for the fish around the
room, giving each pupil the care of the fish for one week. There was the
ever-present interest of watching the growth of the fish, their frantic
maneuvers when being fed, and their skillful swimming. There was also
the admiration of the beautiful colorings of the fish—the pearl fish
with its many gleams and shades, the goldfish with its gorgeous, flaming
brilliancy, and the red fish with its darker tones, suggesting depths of
beauty.
Then one day Miss Green realized that Rudolph was an obedient, orderly,
altogether changed boy.