FROM the age of seven until his graduation at sixteen
Angus attended almost continuously a small private school near his home. He was reasonably happy there most of the time, and even in moments of distress it never occurred to him that he had anything to complain about. But those years which made him happy did not make him very wise. In retrospect he concluded that though he had learned a great many useful things he learned almost nothing about those at the heart of living. He remained ignorant of what he needed most--an understanding of the give-and-take of human relationships.
Perhaps no school could have developed a generous and perceptive spirit in so self-centered a boy; when Angus came to know other schools he found none that tried harder than his own. Teachers are busy shoving factual worms down reluctant throats and preparing young fledglings for economic flight. They have little time and energy, even if they have the desire and the skill, to break through the tough shells of young egos and cultivate the embryo tenderness within. Angus learned enough of the