immature. His tastes are not formed. He is undeveloped. His very best
talents may have never been discovered by himself or others. It is well
known to those who study children that a boy's earliest ambitions are to
do something he thinks spectacular and romantic. Boys long to be cab
drivers, locomotive engineers, policemen, cowboys, soldiers and aviators.

A little nephew of ours said he wanted to be a ditch-digger. Asked why, he
said: "So I can wear dirty clothes, smoke a pipe, and spit tobacco juice
in the street." The little fellow is really endowed with an inheritance of
great natural refinement and a splendid intellect. As he grows older, his
ideals will change and he will discover there is much to ditch-digging
besides wearing dirty clothes, smoking a pipe, and expectorating on the
public highways. He will also learn that there are things in life far more
desirable than these glorious privileges. Of course, these are mere boyish
exuberances, and most people do not take them seriously. On the other
hand, they illustrate the unwisdom of trusting to the unguided preferences
of a youthful mind. The average young man of twenty is only a little more
mature than a boy of ten. He still lacks experience and balance.

Those of us who have passed the two-score mark well know how tastes
change, judgments grow more mature, ideas develop, and experience softens,
ripens or hardens sentiment as the years go by. It is unquestionably true
that if children were given full opportunity to develop their tastes and
to express themselves in various ways and then given freedom of choice of
their vocations, they would choose more wisely than they do under
ignorant, prejudiced, or mistaken judgments of parent or teacher. Yet the
tragedy of thousands of lives shows how unscientific it is to leave the
choice of vocation to the unguided instincts of an immature mind.