[Sidenote: The Cure]
Dorothy Jones had been stubborn from babyhood. Her mother had very
frequently said to her father: “Dorothy had one of her stubborn spells
today. I can’t make her do a single thing when she takes one of these
spells.” Her father would give a sly wink at Dorothy and reply, “O,
she’ll outgrow it.”
The injured tone which her mother used when speaking of the matter gave
Dorothy the opinion that her stubbornness was a good means of punishing
her mother for putting her under too many restrictions and her father’s
attitude caused her to believe that her conduct was a shrewd procedure.
When Dorothy started to school Mrs. Jones accompanied her and told her
teacher that the child was dreadfully stubborn at times. True to her
mother’s prophecy Dorothy was stubborn and this trait of hers was
displayed to successive teachers until she reached the sixth grade.
Miss Schilling, her sixth grade teacher, decided to cure her. She
secured the child’s friendship by giving her to understand that she knew
Dorothy’s wishes and enjoyed granting them whenever possible. One cold
day, however, Dorothy wished to go out to play without wraps. Miss
Schilling asked her to put them on. She was out of sorts already because
Neva Yoder had been chosen queen in a game called, “Queen of the May.”
When Miss Schilling asked Dorothy to put on her sweater she stalked into
the room and flung herself into her seat, pouting. The girls gathered
round her and said, “O, come on Dorothy, come on Dorothy, hurry up,
hurry up, let’s play.” Dorothy gave no heed except to cast a furtive
glance at Miss Schilling to see how she was taking her punishment. What
was her surprise to find that Miss Schilling was taking no notice
whatever of her mood. Dorothy supposed that surely Miss Schilling had
not noticed her, and resolved to make her do so. The girls soon tired of
talking to her and ran out to play. She still sat there and pouted. Now
and then she shuffled her feet or slightly coughed to attract Miss
Schilling’s attention. And her wonder grew when her teacher only looked
at her and smiled. She determined to make the desired impression: viz.,
that she had been wronged and was accordingly punishing her tormentor.
So she kept her seat and pouted through the recess and into the next
session. When her first class was called, she expected to match wills
with Miss Schilling but to her surprise Miss Schilling simply said to
the girls who glanced round to see if Dorothy was coming, “Please excuse
Dorothy, she doesn’t wish to recite this time.”
Five minutes afterwards she stealthily took out a book and began to
study. When her next class was called she was her usual self.