 How do the children feel about Mr. Henderson?
Fallout is, of course, always disastrous— one way or another JUNIOR ACHIEVEMENT BY WILLIAM LEE ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR "What would you think," I asked Marjorie over supper, "if I should undertake to lead a junior achievement group this summer?" "Why, Donald," she said, "it could be quite interesting, if I understand what a junior achievement group is. "Mr. McCormack called me to the office today, and told me that some of the children in the lower grades wanted to start one. It is an uneasy privilege then, at least sometimes, to teach my old-fashioned brand of science to these children of a new age. Some groups have built up tidy little bank accounts which are available for later educational expenses." Marjorie put back her head and laughed, and I was forced to join her, for we both recognize that my understanding and "feel" for commercial matters—if I may use that expression—is almost nonexistent. Mr. McCormack is going to put up fifty dollars to buy any raw materials wanted Back in the old Ridgeville, fifty-odd miles to the south, we had our home almost paid for, when the accident occurred. When Ridgeville moved to its present site, so, of course, did we, which meant starting mortgage payments all over again. This was to be our headquarters and factory for the summer—a roomy unused barn belonging to the parents of one of the group members, Tommy Miller. You're going to decide what to do, and if it's safe and legal and possible to do with the starting capital we have, I'll go along with it and help in any way I can. Mr. McCormack had told me, and in some detail, about the youngsters I'd be dealing with. Mary McCready was a big husky redhead of twelve, with a face full of freckles and an infectious laugh, and Tommy Miller, a few months younger, was just an average, extroverted, well adjusted youngster, noisy and restless, tee-shirted and butch-barbered. The group exchanged looks to see who would lead off, and Peter Cope seemed to be elected. "The Miller boy and Mary McCready," he had said, "have exceptionally high IQ's—around one forty or one fifty. You're Dr. Matlack's son, aren't you? Healthy mice of the right strain," I explained to Tommy, "might be sold to laboratories. There was a pause, then Tommy inquired, "How do you sell it?"
 The children like Mr. Henderson, but they know they are smarter than he is.
 The children do not like Mr. Henderson.  The children feel Mr. Henderson is a bit chintzy.  The children feel Mr. Henderson is holding them back from their true potential.  The children like Mr. Henderson, but they know they are smarter than he is.