Pennsylvania School of Horticulture for Women - Wise Acres Yearbook (Ambler, PA)

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However, despite 'such little vicissitudes, we are progressing along Horticultural lines. With the very tiniest youngsters I have taken up Birds—their nests, young, etc., and wasps and such every day things of interest. We are busy at present with preparations for a birds7 Christmas Tree. The older children had a busy time selecting their bulbs from the catalogue and we had lessons on the uses of the catalogue, potting, labelling and storing and care of bulbs etc. We managed to pot up several hundred bulbs—(despite the lack of a bench) and we are growing some in water and some in pebbles. The oldest group has just begun work on the window boxes which I trust will be a success. We have also had a good deal of field work with the trees and birds. The primary teacher broke down and left about three weeks ago and since then I have had to take several of her classes so it has been pretty strenuous. There are five other teachers but we seldom see much of each other. Unfortunately matters are so arranged that we never have our free times together. We get together occasionally long enough to repeat from the depths of our hearts: I wish I was a rock A sitting on a hill A doin’ nothing all day long But just a sitting still. I wouldn’t sleep, I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t even wash; I’d just sit still a thousand years And rest! myself, by Gosh! which expresses our sentiments most of the time. But I’ve decided that one has to swallow a jolly good lot for the sake ol Experience—and anyway no one can ever, ever look at me and say: “You know you have never had any Experience.” The location of the place is perfectly beautiful and the children are adorable but I get pretty homesick for Ambler sometimes. I; think of you so, so often. Every Thursday I think: “This is Trees and Shrubs day at Ambler.” And then Friday is Botany. So, even though I have not written, I have thought of you ever and ever so often. Oh! how I wish I might be with you all tonight! In reading over this epistle I don’t know whether you can make any sense out of it or not. There are bushels of exam papers waiting to be corrected so I mustn’t write any more tonight. Everybody, write to me when you can, please. Good-night, with ever and ever so much love for the seniors and the rest at Ambler, 4 Lovingly, LOUISE

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A fetter from a former J ufceni November 23, 1916 My dear Seniors Five: I have so much to write that I hardly know where to begin. I wish that I might tell it all to you rather than write it to you. I wonder if it is storming in Ambler tonight as it is here. If so you are probably, all sitting about the fire in the sitting room. This is quite the funniest place I ever struck or hope to strike in the future for some time to come. The grounds here consist of some twenty acres sloping down to the Concord river and are perfectly beautiful. There are about twelve acres in orchard lands, pear as well as apple, an asparagus bed, a patch which at some former time aspired to be a berry patch, a few battered cold frames and a wreck of a perennial flower border. You see this is the first year that the school has occupied this location and before that the place had been deserted for some time and everything had been, allowd to go to ruin. Up to the present time the orchard has kept me out of mischief. We had between six and seven hundred bushels of fruit, mostly Gravenstein, McIntosh, Ben Davis and Baldwin apples and Bose pears. It was almost impossible to find pickers at first until I finally discovered a night duty policeman over at the junction who would come during the day and pick for nine cents a bushel. For the most part the apples were small and had not been properly sprayed. I loved the work in the orchard and it was loads of fun. The last of the Baldwins went off this week and when the returns from those come in I can make up the final accounts. At present I find few idle moments on my hands. In the morning 1 teach Arithmetic, History, Reading, Writing, English and Composition and Handwork, and in the afternoon I have organized play and Horticulture. In the evening I help amuse the youngsters and in between times I correct endless reams of papers and plan out lessons. You would hardly recognize it as a day’s work for a Horticulturist, would you? There are between fifty and sixty children in the school—many of the girls almost as old as I and it is really very ludicrous indeed. I just never saw quite such abominably behaved children in my life as were the small youngsters of my fifth grade at the beginning of the year. 'They had absolutely no more idea of order and respect or obedience than so many kittens and they were extremely difficult to manage, but now that I finally have them whipped into shape they are perfectly darling and we have the nicest times together. The girls seem to enjoy the Nature Study and Gardening. Last September I asked the principal, if I might have a potting bench as equipment for my classes. She replied that she didn’t see why I could not turn over a box and use it. I was rather stunned for a moment but then I saw that it was up to me to prove myself a good enough teacher to get on without equipment. Of course I realized that a poor teacher could make a perfect mess of a lesson in a splendidly equipped labratory and vice versa, but it did seem that the request for a potting bench was not an unreasonable one—when one had the job of teaching forty small and large children the art of Horticulturing. 3

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(JHore |Mmt0r to Pulliam plutcfyer The hard and untiring work incident to bringing about a reform or a conservation is often lost sight of in ultimate results. Today in practically every state in the United States attention is paid to the study of bird life; lectures are given on the economic value of bird protection and effort is made to show the inestimable value of our birds to the farmer and to all vegetation. The schools all over the country are encouraging interest in birds; in observation of their habits, food, and dwelling places; in the actual making of bird houses, bird shelters and drinking and bathing stations. Not many years ago a knowledge of bird life was relegated to the ornithologist almost solely, and though at times the nature lover joined the scientist in his ramble it was rare to find a layman aware of the intrinsic value of that part of earth’s creation—the bird. An Audubon society existed only where a scientist was able to gather a few enthusiasts about him. Bird reservations were unknown. Today hundreds of acres of land,, inland and island, are set aside by our government and purchased in other instances by public spirited benefactors and given over to the National Association of Audubon Societies for the preservation of bird life. Thus have grown up bird reservations where birds can sojourn and breed unmolested. One of the foremost and most untiring workers is Mr. William Dutcher, president of the National Association of Audubon Societies, an incorporated body with headquarters at 1974 Broadway, New York city. The secretary of the association, Mr. T. Gilbert Pearson, writes on p. 205 of the May-June issue of Bird Lore, 1916: “About five and a half years have now elapsed since William Dutcher, President of this Association, was stricken with paralysis. During all this time he has been unable to speak or engage in activities of any'character. His mind is, in many ways, as clear as ever, and he follows with the keenest interest every effort of the Association. He reads continually, and by his gestures frequently communicates his desire to Mrs. Dutcher, his sister, or his attendant, that he wishes cut, from a newspaper or magazine that he has been reading, some note in reference to the protection of wild birds or animals. “To those who have lately come into the field of wild-life conservation, the great work of Mr. Dutcher should be told again and again. It was he who gave life and purpose to the National Committee of Societies, twelve or fifteen years ago; and, largely due to his energy and foresight, the National Association was organized eleven years ago last January. The people) of America owe him a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid. “This feeling of appreciation of Mr. Dutcher is felt by thousands of persons throughout the country, who havq never told Mr. Dutcher a word about it. I wish to take this opportunity to say to the members and friends of the Association, that anyone who feels disposed to write him a letter at any time may feel assured that their message will be received by Mr. Dutcher with the greatest pleasure.” In answer to that invitation a nature lover and conservationist at heart, who through ill-health is also more; or less handicapped, sent the following poem, “A Bird’s View”, to Mr. Dutcher. 5