Today's demands for measuring childhood success have chased household chores from the to-do lists of many young people. In a survey of 1,001 US adults released by Braun Research, 82% reported having regular chores growing up, but only 28% said that they require their own children to do them. “Parents today want their kids spending time on things that can bring them success, but ironically, we've stopped doing one thing that's actually been a proven predictor of success—and that's household chores.” says Richard Rende, a developmental psychologist.

    Giving children household chores at an early age helps to build a lasting sense of mastery, responsibility and independence, according to research by Marty Rossmann, professor at the University of Minnesota. In 2002, Dr. Rossman analyzed data from a longitudinal(纵向的) study that followed 84 children across four periods. She found that young adults who began chores at ages 3 and 4 were more likely to have good relationships with family and friends and to achieve academic and early career success, as compared with those who didn't have chores or who started them as teens.

    Chores also teach children how to be empathetic(感同身受的) and responsive to others' needs, notes psychologist Richard Weissbourd. In research, his team surveyed 10,000 high-school students and asked them to rank what they treasured more: achievement, happiness or caring for others. Almost 80% chose either achievement or happiness over caring for others. As he points out, however, research suggests that personal happiness comes most reliably not from high achievement but from strong relationships. “We're out of balance,” says Dr. Weissbourd. A good way to start re-adjusting priorities(优先事项), he suggests, is by learning to be kind and helpful at home.

    The next time that your child asks to skip chores to do homework, resist the urge to let him or her off the hook. Being slack(懈怠的) about chores when they compete with school sends your child the message that grades and achievement are more important than caring about others. What may seem like small messages in the moment but add up to big ones over time.

    “When your mother scolds you, you can look elsewhere and think about other things. Just ignore her words. But remember: such a tough attitude cannot be used often.” These words are from a series of cartoons which outline skills for children to fight against their mothers. The images have created heated debate among Chinese netizens（网民）.

    Regarded as “a book for children aged 6 to 12 who are always scolded by their parents”， the cartoons, drawn by two 10-year-old Beijing girls, list over 20 skills which children can use to deal with their mothers' anger such as crying, pretending to be ashamed, fleeing into the toilet and pleasing her afterwards. Each skill is described with vivid pictures and humorous notes. The creativity of the young girls has amazed netizens, the Yangtse Evening Post reported on Thursday.

According to one of the girls' mothers, her daughter once received a poor mark in an exam, and the mother blamed her and compared her performance with another classmate. The daughter's feelings led to her creating the cartoons. The girl's father, who first posted the pictures on his Sohu Microblog on Monday, said he hopes parents pay close attention to the pictures, allow children to feel free to develop their own characteristics and try not to criticize them so often.

“The cartoons, although an individual case, reflect a modern phenomenon and some of the problems within Chinese family education,” said Yu Qinfang, an expert on family education. According to a survey of 104 children and their parents, Yu discovered that as many as 51.9 percent of primary school students hate being urged to do things by their mothers. “Not giving children enough time and hurrying them to do things seems to be a very tiny detail within family life, but it is potentially a huge problem which can easily be ignored by parents. A mother's blame may lead to negative feelings within her child's heart,” Yu said. “Parents should learn to blame less and be more patient.”

    I remember meeting him one evening with his pushcart. I had managed to sell all my papers and was coming home in the snow. It was that strange hour in downtown New York when the workers were pouring homeward in the twilight. I marched among thousands of tired men and women whom the factory whistles had unyoked. They flowed in rivers through the clothing factory districts, then down along the avenues to the East Side.

    I met my father near Cooper Union. I recognized him, a hunched, frozen figure in an old overcoat standing by a banana cart. He looked so lonely, the tears came to my eyes. Then he saw me, and his face lit with his sad, beautiful smile-Charlie Chaplin's smile.

    "Arch, it's Mikey," he said. "So you have sold your papers! Come and eat a banana."

    He offered me one. I refused it. I felt it crucial that my father sell his bananas, not give them away. He thought I was shy, and coaxed and joked with me, and made me eat the banana. It smelled of wet straw and snow.

    "You haven't sold many bananas today, pop, "I said anxiously.

    He shrugged his shoulders.

    "What can I do No one seems to want them."

    It was true. The work crowds pushed home morosely（愁眉苦脸的）over the pavements. The rusty sky darkened over New York buildings, the tall street lamps were lit, innumerable trucks, street cars and elevated trains clattered by. Nobody and nothing in the great city stopped for my father's bananas.

    "I ought to yell," said my father dolefully. "I ought to make a big noise like other peddlers, but it makes my throat sore. Anyway, I'm ashamed of yelling, it makes me feel like a fool. "

    I had eaten one of his bananas. My sick conscience told me that I ought to pay for it somehow. I must remain here and help my father.

    "I'll yell for you, pop," I volunteered.

    "Arch, no," he said," go home; you have worked enough today. Just tell momma I'll be late. "

    But I yelled and yelled. My father, standing by, spoke occasional words of praise, and said I was a wonderful yeller. Nobody else paid attention. The workers drifted past us wearily, endlessly; a defeated army wrapped in dreams of home. Elevated trains crashed; the Cooper Union clock burned above us; the sky grew black, the wind poured, the slush burned through our shoes. There were thousands of strange, silent figures pouring over the sidewalks in snow. None of them stopped to buy bananas. I yelled and yelled, nobody listened.

    My father tried to stop me at last." Nu," he said smiling to console me," that was wonderful yelling, Mikey. But it's plain we are unlucky today! Let's go home."

    I was frantic, and almost in tears. I insisted on keeping up my desperate yells. But at last my father persuaded me to leave with him.

    Planning a visit to the UK? Here we help with ways to cut your costs.

    AVOID BIG EVENTS     Big sporting events, concerts and exhibitions can increase the cost of accommodation and make it harder to find a room. A standard double room at the Thistle Brighton the final Friday of the Brighton Comedy Festival (19 Oct.) cost ￡169.15 at Booking.com. A week later, the same room cost ￡118.15.

    If you can be flexible and want to know dates to avoid -or you're looking for a big event to pass your time—check out sites such as Whatsonwhen.com, which allow you to search for events in the UK by city, date and category.

    STAY AWAY FROM THE STATION     If traveling to your destination by train, you may want to find a good base close to the station, but you could end up paying more for the sake of convenience at the start of your holiday.

    Don't be too choosy about the part of town you stay in. Booking two months in advance, the cheapest room at Travelodge's Central Euston hotel in London for Saturday 22 September was ￡95.95. A room just a tube journey away at its Covent Garden hotel was ￡75.75.And at Farringdon, a double room cost just ￡f62.95.

    LOOK AFTER YOURSELF     Really central hotels in cities such as London, Edinburgh and Cardiff can cost a fortune, especially at weekends and during big events. As an alternative consider checking into a self-catering flat with its own kitchen. Often these flats are hidden away on the top floors of city centre buildings. A great example is the historic O'Neill Flat on Edinburgh's Royal Mile, available for ￡420 for five days in late September, with room for four adults.

    The McDonnells lived in a small brick house in Larchmont, a suburb of New York City. Jim was foreman of mail carriers at the post office where he had worked for 25 years. Married in 1960, he and Anne were childless.

    On the evening of the eleventh anniversary of their marriage, carrying out the garbage, Jim McDonnell slipped on ice­coated steps, and struck his head. A few days later, driving to work, he lost control of the car, hit a telephone pole, and banged his forehead against the windshield. The following day he fell off the stairs, and again he banged his head. Found unconscious, he was hospitalized for three days with a cerebral concussion(脑震荡). One day in the same month, Jim borrowed a friend's station wagon and drove to Kennedy Airport to pick up Anne's brother and family. When he returned the borrowed car at 10 p.m., he was unaware that the wallet containing his identification had slipped out of his pocket onto the floor of the station wagon. After that, he was never seen again.

    So what really happened to Anne's husband? During his walk home, Jim had indeed blacked out(昏厥), losing all ability to remember who he was and where he lived. What happened then is unclear. The next thing he knew was that he was in downtown Philadelphia, a city he had never visited before. Seeing signs advertising the services of a James Peters, a real estate broker, Jim adopted James Peters as his own name. He had no past; his only reality was the present. James Peters got a Social Security card, which could be obtained at that time without showing a birth certificate, and took a job in a health club. He next worked at a cancer research institute, cleaning out animal cages. He also got a night shift job at the P&P luncheonette, where he became well known for his omelets, as well as his courtesy and good humor.

    About a month before Christmas 1985, colleagues noticed that Jim had grown unusually quiet and depressed. Something seemed to be turning in his mind. On December 22, Jim had fallen and banged his head. The next day at work he seemed distracted, and late that afternoon he had fallen again, striking his head. On December 24, he awoke feeling confused, yet delighted. After almost 15 years, he knew who he was! He was James A. McDonnell, Jr., of Larchmont, New York. His wife's name was Anne.

    Anne had just returned home from Christmas Mass, where she lit candles and prayed for Jim. A light snow was falling, and she was in a hurry to leave for Christmas dinner at her sister's before the roads grew slick. Then the doorbell rang. "Oh my," she thought, "this is not a good time for a visitor." Anne opened the door — and saw a man with a full white beard. Immediately she recognized Jim. She couldn't speak.

    To Jim, Anne looked a little older, but prettier too. His heart overflowed.

    "Hello, Anne," he said.

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