Schuster School - Proscenium Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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gorgeous turkey gobbler, which one of the children had drawn on the blackboard, when she felt a tugging at her skirt. She dropped the chalk on the ledge and looking down saw Rosie Contadino mopping her tear-stained face With her ragged cuff, and holding a blurred, cracked slate, in the other hand. UOh, Miss Havers sobbed Rosie, her salty tears splashing on the slate. ujust look what Tony Granneti went and done. My problem's almost rubbed off. Eileen Havers adored Rose, the pet of the school. She would have given anything to have been able to punish Tony, but gritting her teeth, she led Rosie back to her desk and wiped the tears from the yougster's face with her own linen kerchief. Then taking an evil smelling sponge from a rusty baking powder can, she handed it to Rosie, saying: There, Rose, be a brave little girl and donit cry. I'm sure Tony didn't mean it. You won't have to do the example again, so you can wash your slate and put it away. i The other children heard Rosie sobbing and turned, one by one, to see what it was all ebout. Tony was much absorbed in cutting T. G. in his desk lid. Miss Eileen calmly walked to the board, added a few more resplendent touches to the gobbler, on which she was working When Rosie interrupted, called the class to order, and dismissed them for recess. Tony lingered at the end of the line, and Eileen called him back to her. His eyes cast upon the Hoot and kicking the end of the platform, he began: Gee, Miss Havers, I'm awful sorry I teased Rosie, this mornin', but you know sheis such a cute and the boy's black eyes danced with mischief. Eileen turned to look at Tony, but the devilish stare that caught her glance fright- ened her and biting her lips she said: iiYes, Tony, I know youire sorry anti you are never going to do it again. Will you stay after school a few minutes this afternoon and clean the board? Yesim. Can I ask one of the other fellows to stay, too? tiWell, Tony, lid rather you wouldnt; you see I want this to be a secret be- tween you and me. You understand. Now run along, and come in when the bell rings. The teacher turned to her desk anci began to correct the spelling papers, as Tony walked slowly toward the door. Suddenly, the Vivid coloring of the turkey gobbler on the board caught his eye and Without blinking an eyelash, he seized the felt eraser, rubbed it through the drawing, and made his exit, quick as a Hash. After the sound of footsteps had died away in the corridor, Eileen looked up from her work and caught sight of the blurred board. The hot blood rushed to her cheeks and tears to her eyes, as she sank back into her chair, wondering what to do with the boy. For more than the hundredth time she wondered if it were best to treat the child decently or to bully him. There were some very good points about the boy that needed encouragement, but every teacher in the building com- plained of him. Was she wrong or right?eShe didnit knowebut just at that moment Rosie came into the room clutching a large, redecheeked apple in her dimpied hand. - Here, Miss Havers, she said, me and Tony's made up. He giveid me this. Will you please cut it? You can have half. Eileen separated the apple with a bit of string and Rosie scampered out of the room, her teeth buried deep in the peace offering. Pane Gflyrthrr-n

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By this time Eileen was passing up the steps of the dilapidated school build- ing. The chubby old principal stood at the landing, his red face beaming with welcome. He stretched forth his large hand and with cheery voice said, HGood morning! Miss Havers, I believe? After discussing the delightful weather, and the growing throng of children, the principal led the way down a long corridor, lined with numbered doors. Mr. Manse opened the door of room number Five, and said, This room, Miss Havers, is your workshop. Because of the large nume ber of pupils in this class, we have been obliged to change things about some What. The fourth grade work is taught in I'Room Number Five. A bit confus- ing, I'll admit, but I think you,II understand. Eileen was about to answer, when a touseled headed, black'eyed boy came into the room, and shied up to the principal, saying, Please, sir, Miss L. is waiting for you to ring the bell. iiYes, Charles, run along, I'll be there inaminute! Mr. Manse then wished Eileen every possibIe success in her new work, and hurried from the room. Eileen slipped to the window and was gazing intently at the huge meIting-pot of humanity that boiIed in the courtyard beiow When the tramp of feet in the corridor awakened her from the reverie. She hurried to the battered desk, her blue eyes dancing and her cheeks Hushed with excitement. Her black hair was almost unmanageabie, but She hastily tucked up the stray strands, and turned toward the door to weIcome her new charges. It seemed to EiIeen that she was greeting a class of nations and it was not until after the roll call that her brain Cleared. The long list of Rosies, Tonys, Roccos, Josies, Gretchens, Rachels and Isadores, seemed an insolubIe puzzle, but the distinct individuality of each piquant face soon endeared itself to the teacher. The first few days were too warm for lessons, but the last week of September found the boys deIighted with problems in long division. The girls, too, pIocICIecI away, and aII worked Iike Trojans on the arithmetic, but the soulvinspiring event of the day was the speIIing-bee. Mike Carcifero proudly stood at the head of the boys line, his dirty hands tucked into the pockets of his ragged corduroy trou- sers. Sadie Karain triumphantly led the girls, though she fingered the pIaits of her pink gingham skirt nervously, while listening eagerly to every word. AIong with Sadiee success came the mumps, and Rachel Schwarz, a Iong-Iegged, fair-haired, que-eyed girI, who stood next in line, was given the leadership. RacheI took ad- vantage of her promotion, for when the class was dismissed at noon, she lingered behind, and going up to Miss Havers bashfuIIy, said: Miss Eileen, could you lend me a nickel 'tiII I come back this afternoon? uCertainly, Rachel, said Eileen, and sent the child away singing. The money was returned and Eileen thought no more of it. Rachel, however, began to come every day for the nickel and Finally Eileen said: Rachel, I have no change to-day. Rachel's blue eyes kept on dancing as she said: Oh that's aII right, Miss Havers. You see I bring the meat home for dinner, with me, and if I don't borrow the money from you I have to make two tripse hrst home and then to the grocery. But it'll be an right. Goodebye, and she bounced out of the room. The weeks Hew by and the day before Thanksgiving found the pupils busy with some problems in fractions. Miss Eileen was adding the final touches to a Pa ge hfty-two

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The teacher bit into the apple as she picked some dead leaves from a scrawny little fern that grew on her desk. She was nibbling away at the core when a dark Object hurled through the air and fell at her feet. Eileen jumped back, and look ing down saw the halt-eaten form of a dead rat. 1 he coarse laugh that she knew so well rang through the corridor and made her tremble. No one but Tony would have dared to do such a thing, Eileen thought, as she started for the door, but the sight of the blurred gobbler loomed before her and she turned her steps to the win- dow. Her fists were clenched and her white teeth buried in her ashen lips, as she muttered, HThe odds seem to be against me, but I will treat him decently and maybe sometime he'll A crackling sound interrupted her soliloquy and an odor of burning rags. made her rush to the stove. Several times before the children had thrown old slate rags into the fire and aroused her fearful dread of being trapped in a burning building, besides causing much excitement. The door of the stove was stubborn, but finally, after much tugging, yielded, and Eileen saw only a glowing bed of coals. She closed the door with a bang and smiled to herself, for being so childish, but as she turned to go to her desk a cloud of smoke poured into the room from the passageway, and blinded her. In an instant her only exit to the corridor was cut off. She made a mad rush for the window but the smoke grew thicker and thicker, and it was almost impossible for her to drag herself down the aisle. The heat was intenseethe window glass was crackling and the flames so near that Eileenys clothing was scorched. She made a desparate attempt to call out, but the smoke and Hames were too much for her and she fell face forward on the floor. Above the roar of the flames she heard the crash of falling glass and tried, in vain, to raise herself. A stout, dark object jumped into the crackling mass, ceiling, HMiss Eileen, Miss Eileen. The foot touched something, and bend, ing down he caught hold of Miss Havers' hand. He grabbed the coat from his head, threw it over her face and with his stout young arms about her girlish form started for the Window. His burden grew heavier, the Flames crept nearer, and his struggle became more desperate as he tried to clear the sill. Finally he reached the ladder and, trembling from head to foot, he descended from one round to the other into the yard, where hundreds of children cheered. The shouts of the bye standers and loud calls of the firemen awakened Eileen, and gazing up into the black, scarred face that bent above her, she muttered, uTony. It was a warm June night, and every seat in the great auditorium was taken, and throngs of people stood on tiptoe in the aisles. The last strains of the orches- tra died away, the curtains parted, and Dr. Anthony Grannetti, the youngest and most famous surgeon of the West, bowed before a brilliant audience. The peo- ple moved forward, craned their necks and stared at the doctor, who smiled back at them and said: Before beginning my lecture, ladies and gentlemen, I want to say that all I am and all that I ever hope to be, I owe, not to a sweetheart, wife or mother, as is usually the case in books, but to a teacher of my childhood, a young girl, who trusted and encouraged me when others despised me. It is to her the public owes a vote of thanks, for I am but the product of her encouragement? Shrieks of applause filled the house, and a little black-haired woman in the last row of the gallery, sobbed under her breath, as she dried the tears that ran down her faded cheeks. She slipped her thin, ink-stained fingers into the hand of her elderly companion and whispered softly, uWell, mother, 1 was right that morning. Page fifty-four