How to Become the Best Version of Yourself. Fairbanks Douglas

the steps, hammock or porch chairs. Bob, Bill, Dick or Jim, as the case might be, was first to be noticed leaning against the front gate, or looking dreamily over the side fence. But as soon as the porch arguments began to warm up he could be seen edging along slowly, inch by inch, toward the rear—just nonchalantly, two pickets at a time, without any special semblance of hurrying. If his mother had the floor in the argument he got away speedily and he generally waited for that.

      But success was not always the case. Many times have I stood impatiently out of view giving the hurry-up signal, when suddenly there came a loud call from the front that caused Robert to fall back into his own yard and walk quickly around to the whenceness of the clamor.

      “What do you want, Ma?” he would enquire—as if he didn’t thoroughly well know.

      “I want you to stay around here where I can keep an eye on you. Then I’ll know where you are.”

      Sometimes this kind of a backset would require nearly a half hour of skilful jockeying to repair. After that only the boldest of plans stood a chance to succeed, such as walking into the house from the front as if in deep disgust, or after a drink of water in the rear of the house. Then out through the kitchen door and over the back fence in a jiffy.

      A nudge from sister often nullified this subterfuge when the mother seemed about to fall for the project, and that meant the loss of another fifteen minutes during which Bobby would actually go and take a swallow of water and come back to the porch, there to stretch and yawn until told that he’d better go in and go to bed. Victory at last for Bob, showing that there was more than one way to win a battle even in those days. The slamming of an upstairs bed-room door, meant for his mother’s ears, a slide down the “rain pipe”—and over the fence for Bobby.

      But what a wonderful change has come into the parental mind since then. Now all Bob does is to announce where he is going—to the “gym,” over to Bill’s, motor-boating, canoeing, bicycling, a hike in the park, or a look in on the movies. Home and to bed by ten o’clock.

      And what is the result? Boys of twelve now days become officers in Boy Scout companies. They go in for everything likely to make them athletic, manly and alert. At sixteen they have more general knowledge than boys of twenty had twenty-five years ago. And their minds are cleaner, likewise their bodies. Schooling comes easier to them, although the courses are far more advanced. It takes knowledge to get started off right now days.

      This is an age of pep, and the competition of today means pep vs. pep. With equal mental preparedness the man with the brawn will stand the gaff that would kill his soft competitor. Lest we forget—recreation, a good appetite, a healthy body, and the proper amount of sleep—are positive requirements in making life worth while.