These writers have committed the greatest crime against their creations that authors can commit--they have made them non-human.

If the stories about George Washington had narrated how on one occasion he laughed uproariously, or how he once ate too many mince-pies, he might have escaped the lamentable and unjust reputation which seems likely to be his fate for another aeon or two.

That boys can be good and human everybody knows, and the man who loves Tom Sawyer and sneers at Eric would be the first to flog and abuse his son if he bore a closer resemblance to the former than to the latter.
Baden-Powell as a boy was delightful.

A grin always hovered about his face, and the Spirit of Fun herself looked out of his sharp, brown eyes.

He was for ever making "the other chaps" roar; keeping a football field on the giggle; sending a concert-audience into fits.
But he was just the sort of schoolboy of whom there would be no incidents to record.