Framingham State University - Dial Yearbook (Framingham, MA)

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13 X If X - vi ai-C'f,.' ' Podunk, District No. 11 T HE. Schoolma'am at Podunk, district No. I l, looked up from the book which she was reading. The clock pointed with relentless fingers to 8.30. Going out into the, hall, she took from a nail by the door, a well worn jacket and a black hat, whose roses were sadly drooping. It was not thus, when I was at Framingham, mused Miss Wade, with a half smile, quickly followed by a sigh, as she impaled upon a hat- pin the smallest and most drooping rose-bud. Outside two unkempt child- ren were quarreling over the possession of a top. She looked at them and thought wearily of their untidiness, their daily disputes and worst of all the distasteful food, which every day she was obliged to eat. Before long she was in the school-room, raking out the ashes of yes- terday and laying the fire anew. Scarcely had a feeble blaze arisen from the green logs, when the scholars came pouring, or rather tumbling in. They were of various ages and sizes, but resembled each other in the fact that all were of an equally frouzly and neglected appearance. Through the noise and confusion of the day, she guided stubby lingers and patiently explained to inattentive and noisy youngsters that 2-1-2:-1, not 6, or 5 but 4! At length the day was done. The pupils departed, without as much as a gruff goodnight. The last rays of the September sun, looking inquir- ingly through the broken window pane found Miss Wade, gazing about the school-room. Here was the stove, which had so persistently refused to burn properly, there also the rows of little marred seats and the cracked blackboards, with their sprawling childish letters. Her thoughts went back to a little town not many miles away, to her mother, and since there was no one to see, she buried her face among a pile of uncorrected papers and burst into tears. It could not have been more than a minute after-

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12 , But her good heart must have recovered its wonted beat when, after the school had been visited by two gentlemen, she wrote, The scholars have behaved very well, with the very underlined. The records are absorbing from page to page. They are written for the most part, in the fine hand which obtained in those days, and for the greater part of the superintendent. We find quite frequently a record made by Mother Peirce, and, occasionally, one made in the bold masculine hand of Father Peirce. Space forbids the copying of much from the rec- ords. Under July 24th, note the date, are found many items of interest. It says-- 0wing.to the unpleasantness of the weather several scholars were absent. School visited by Mr. Tillinghast, teacher of mathe- matics in the Normal School at Barre. Afternoon session closed at two o'clock that the teachers might have an opportunity to attend the ex- amination of the district school taught by Miss Stodder. As far as can be determined, school was in session on Saturday, and six days in the week: at least for the first year. And school was in session for the year until August 7th. Under date of Sept. I4, i840 we read, W-lihis day a new term commences. In one entry made by Father Peirce in which he gives an account of the examination of the Model School, the kind of an examination the older people can remember, he closes with this remark- The Normalites at- tended. Almost the last entry in this book was made by Father Peirce at the opening of the fall term, Sept. I4, l84l . It is as follows: School opened at l-4 of 9 A. M. Present 29 pupils. After re- ligious exercises, made some remarks to the pupils appropriate to the com- mencement of a term. Spent the remainder of the forenoon assigning les- sons and hearing recitations. P. M. school came together at l-2 past l. Attended to writing and reading. But there was a Training in the neigh- borhood and the children were indulged with an early dismission. Order and recitation of qualified character, much like what' is common at the be- ginning of a new term. C. Peirce. H. W. P YQ. Aix 7' ig-A gb' A V 61 fi Q 721, ' 551

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14 ward that she straightened herself. An old motto of her childhood came back to her, so plainly that it seemed as though it must be a human voice saying: In Life's earnest battle They only prevail, Who daily march onward, And never say fail. I will not say fail, she said, as though in answer to that unseen voice. VVhat would our principal think of me. Here I am at Podunk, district No. I I, and instead of looking on the bright side, I am dissolved in tears! It was a very courageous little schoolma'am, who later mounted the hill toward her humble abode, firmly resolved to do her duty, but hoping against hope that for once Mrs. Hopkins had forgotten to dip into the salt pork barrel for their evening meal. It was the last day of school. The little low ceilinged room was fairly flooded with sunshine. Miss Wade placed a vase of flowers upon her desk, then stopped a moment to look about her. A sudden wave of thankfulness came over her. Oh, can this be the same school-room that first greeted my eyes a few short months ago? she exclaimed. There were the same worn blackboards and tiny seats, to be sure, but they had come to spell home to her. In the midst of her reflections the door gave a preparatory squeak, then opened to admit the scholars. Goodmornin', Miss Wade, they cried as onefman. Goodmornin', came from a shy little girl behind. The bell rang and school began. How still it seemed! The chil- dren knew that Miss Wade was going to the city the next year. She had told them so only the day before and had said that she did not wish to leave them, but must earn more money, so that she might send her little sister through school. Scratch, scratch, went the pencils. Tick tock, solemnly said the old clock, tick tock. I-le seemed to know all about it and said, as his pendulum swung: Going away, last day. ' The hours passed rapidly and soon school was over. The children thronged about Miss Wade to say goodbye. As she talked with them she noted the brushed hair, the neatly, if awkwardly arranged neckties and above all the clean aprons. Clean aprons would have been a miracle at Podunk, nine short months ago-day after day, week after week, she had followed the increase of neatness among the children-their evident desire for better things. How proud she was of them. They had brought her gifts, fished from the depths of well laden trousers' pockets, or hoarded in the secret pockets of gingham dresses. Une little fellow gave her a bunch of yellow feathery bloom J est the color of teacher's hair. And looking upon the rough little faces of the girls and boys, whom she had helped to make happy, a sudden mist came over her eyes and the Goodbye, Miss Wade, sounded faint and far away. They followed her out of