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Title: Three Score and Ten in Retrospect
Author: Hooper, James W. (born 1827)
Date of first publication: 1900
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   Syracuse, N.Y.: C. W. Bardeen, 1900
   (first edition)
Date first posted: 18 July 2009
Date last updated: 18 July 2009
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #354

This ebook was produced by:
Brenda Lewis, Val Wooff
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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Transcriber's Note

The original spelling and punctuation have been preserved as far as
possible. Only obvious typographical errors have been corrected and
hyphenation has been made consistent.






                [Illustration]

              THREE SCORE AND TEN

                 IN RETROSPECT

     I. Boyhood Days; II. Reminiscences of
         school experiences from twenty
                to seventy-two

                      BY

                 J. W. HOOPER

                [Illustration]

                SYRACUSE, N. Y.

            C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER

                     1900




NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER

I have known Mr. Hooper for more than twenty-five years. During this
time his work has been in the immediate vicinity of Syracuse, and I have
seen him frequently, in school and out. He is not only a man of
scrupulous veracity, who would cut off his right hand sooner than make
an intentional mistatement, but he is also characteristically methodical
and accurate,--as likely as any man I ever knew to be exact in his
memory of incidents that happened even fifty years ago.

This narrative therefore seems to me of decided historical value. Many
of the incidents here given he had told me from time to time, and it was
at my suggestion that he gathered here these reminiscences of a long, an
honorable, and a useful career. There are few living men able to give us
truthful pictures of the school and home life of half a century ago, and
the community should be grateful to Mr. Hooper for thus putting on
record much that otherwise would have been forgotten and lost.

     C. W. BARDEEN

_Syracuse_, April 21, 1900

                              CONTENTS


    CHAPTER                                              PAGE

         I. Early Years, 1827-1837                          9

        II. An Interrupted Journey, 1838                   13

       III. A Long and Hungry Tramp, 1838                  17

        IV. As a Brickmaker, 1839-1847                     20

         V. My First School, 1847                          24

        VI. A Case of Discipline, 1847                     27

       VII. New York Country Life in 1847                  29

      VIII. In Business Again, 1847                        34

        IX. The Waterbury District, 1847-9                 36

         X. Another Case of Discipline, 1849               41

        XI. Tobacco in School, 1852                        48

       XII. In Various Schools, 1853-1872                  50

      XIII. A School Commissioner, 1873-8                  54

       XIV. Teachers Associations                          57

        XV. Principal at Solvay, 1879-1884                 60

       XVI. Final Experiences as a Teacher, 1884-9         62

      XVII. Attendance and Tardiness                       65

     XVIII. Whispering                                     69

       XIX. Corporal Punishment                            71

        XX. Responsibility of the Teacher                  74




Three Score and Ten Years in Retrospect




CHAPTER I

EARLY YEARS, 1827-1837


I was born in Livingston County, N. Y., July 5, 1827.

My parents both died before I was eight years old. I found a home with a
cousin in St. Lawrence county. I think my cousin was a good man; but,
unfortunately for me, I soon fell into disfavor with his wife, who
seemed to improve every opportunity to make my life unpleasant. Two
incidents will be sufficient to indicate something of the means to which
she resorted.

My cousin was in the habit of making from one to two thousand pounds of
maple sugar every spring, and on account my faithful work he had
promised me the last run of sap for my own. I should gather it, boil it
down to syrup, take it to the house, his wife would convert it into
sugar, the sugar should be sold and all the money should be mine.

I think I never experienced more pleasure than during the two weeks that
followed, in building air castles and contemplating what I would buy
with the money that would come from the sale of that sugar. I gathered
the sap, boiled it down, and found myself in possession of two buckets
full of nice maple syrup. I put my neck-yoke on and carried the syrup
carefully half a mile to the house. It was put into an iron kettle, the
kettle was hung on the crane and swung into its place over the kitchen
fire. Through neglect of my cousin's wife it was boiled too long. It was
burned and worthless; and my air castles fell to the ground.

The family had received an invitation to a pig party to be given at a
neighbor's house that evening. Pig parties were quite common in St.
Lawrence county in those days. Whenever a pig was killed the neighbors
were invited in to eat fresh pork. It was thought best for me to remain
at home and look after the fire. The sugar had been turned from the
kettle, but quite a little was left on its sides, and I thought I would
scrape the kettle and eat a little burned sugar. Getting an iron spoon I
scraped off a good spoonful and put it into my mouth. Judge of my
surprise and indignation when I realized that the woman who had just
burned up my sugar had sprinkled fine-cut tobacco over the sides and
bottom of the kettle. I survived, but for an hour I was very sick.

It was a part of my regular work to bring water for washing from a brook
nearly half a mile away. So on a Monday morning I donned my neck-yoke
and went for water. Filling the pails and staggering under the heavy
weight, it was only after frequent resting that I reached the house. As
I passed through the gate I noticed my cousin's wife at the wash-tub in
the yard. Before I reached where she was, I stumbled under the heavy
load, and as I fell much of the water dashed over me. Before I had time
to rise to my feet a heavy blow on the side of my head knocked me back
on the ground, and after having my ears well boxed, the neck-yoke was
put (not very gently) upon my shoulders and I was ordered back after
water. I went back to the brook, sat the pails carefully down on the
bank, laid the neck-yoke across them, and skipped across the lots,
crying; and I have ever since imagined those pails still standing by the
brook, and my cousin's wife turned into a pillar of salt, standing by
her wash-tub in the yard, waiting for the water.

I was now ten years old, and I wish right here to ask the young boys and
girls who may read this story a few questions. Do you appreciate your
home? Do you know what it is to have kind friends who are interested in
your education and your success in life? Do you have, down deep in your
heart, a pure, lasting, devoted, tender love for the precious mother,
who is spending her life in trying to build you up in character and make
of you true, loyal girls and boys, who shall reflect honor upon your
parents and friends? I knew none of these privileges, but I had endured
enough from my cousin's wife; and while she was waiting on that Monday
morning for me to come with the water, I was getting several miles away,
seeking for another place to live.




CHAPTER II

AN INTERRUPTED JOURNEY, 1838


I succeeded in finding a place where I could work for my board and go to
school. This was a good home, and I think I received as good treatment
as I deserved, for I imagine I was becoming a tough boy.

About a year later, while in my eleventh year, a change seemed to come
over me. I began to have some desire to obtain an education, I became
uneasy, I wanted something, and could not tell what. About this time, at
a protracted meeting, I experienced religion and united with the Baptist
church at Sprague's Corners, on the line of Jefferson and St. Lawrence
counties.

Although I tried to live a religious life, I was not satisfied. This
feeling of discontent grew upon me until on the 10th day of November,
1838, at about 8 o'clock in the evening, I put a few articles of
clothing into a handkerchief, tied it up and went out into the darkness.
I have never forgotten that long, dark, dreary night. I was naturally
timid, and frightened at everything I saw. The country was then
comparatively new and the forests contained many wild animals; yet I
was impelled to go on by some irresistible will-power. I was thinly
clad, but that same Hand that helped me amid greater dangers in the near
future sustained and kept me alive on that cold November night.

I had no thought of turning back. When I came to the deep forests, I
would start on a run and never lessen the speed until I had reached the
open country.

On the morning of the 11th of November I hired out to a farmer somewhere
near Carthage in Jefferson county. I was to husk corn a month, for which
I was to receive five dollars and my board. I fulfilled my contract,
took my five dollars, went to Sacketts Harbor, and, after buying me a
pair of shoes and some mittens, I paid the rest of my money for a
passage on a steam boat to Rochester, intending to go to my uncle's home
at Bergen Corners, Genesee county.

Soon after leaving port, December 12, we were struck by a storm of wind
and snow that seemed for a time to threaten the destruction of the boat.
All day the captain tried to reach port at Oswego, which he succeeded in
doing at about nine o'clock in the evening. I was told that the boat
would go no farther for several days, as it needed to be repaired.

I soon noticed that the fires were burning down, and the lights were
being extinguished. I started up street in the city, hoping that I
might find some place to keep warm.

At about ten o'clock that night I stood upon the platform of a public
house in Oswego. And my young friends, that was the grandest platform
that I ever stood upon! My feet never stood in a place more sacred! I
believe the spirit of my christian mother was right beside her boy! I
believe an angel was hovering over me!

The lights in the public house had been extinguished. It was intensely
cold. My clothes were frozen from the water that had swashed upon me
while on board the boat in the terrible wind. The snow was blowing
around me. I had eaten no dinner, no supper. I had no money, and not a
friend to go to. I had reached a crisis in my life! I was afraid I
should freeze.

As I stood there in the darkness, these words came to me with great
power. I do not know whether I spoke in an audible voice or not, but I
said, "_I will earn an honest living, and I will perish before I will
beg._"

I started at once for the boat. I tried door after door and found them
locked. I finally opened a door leading down a dark gang-way. Feeling
for a door at the foot of the stairs I opened into the sailor's cabin.
They had a warm room, had their table spread, and were playing cards.
They noticed that I was nearly frozen, and recognizing me as a
passenger on board the boat, they gave me a warm berth.

In the morning, I went to the captain, told him my circumstances,
reminding him that I had a ticket from Sacketts Harbor to Rochester, and
as the boat was to be laid up for repairs I thought he should pay me
back a part of my money. The only satisfaction that I received was the
privilege of riding to Rochester if I waited until the boat went.

It had now been twenty-four hours since I had tasted food, but I had no
more thought of asking for a meal than I had of cutting one of my
fingers off.




CHAPTER III

A LONG AND HUNGRY TRAMP, 1838


I said to myself, "I cannot wait for the boat, for I shall famish here,
and I can but perish if I go afoot." Not expecting anything to eat until
I should reach my uncle's house, ninety miles away, yet believing that I
should in some way get through, I pushed out into the wind and snow.

I was now suffering intensely for want of food. In passing an orchard a
little out of the city, I saw a cluster of apples hanging from the limb
of a tree. I soon found that, although frozen like rocks, they were not
decayed. I filled my pockets and went on my way. I think I will not say
what my experience was in eating those frozen apples, but I will say
that I had not one morsel of food from about thirty hours before I left
the city of Oswego until I reached my uncle's house at Bergen, excepting
frozen apples that I found in the orchards as I travelled along the
roads.

A little after dark that night as I was passing a country tavern I
noticed a ladder reaching to a hay-loft over the shed. I climbed the
ladder, and burying myself as deep as I could in the hay I slept
soundly until morning. Watching my opportunity to get on the street
without being seen, I commenced my second day's tramp.

The strongest temptation that I had during my journey to break my pledge
and ask for something to eat, was at the noon hour that day. The weather
had cleared up and a farmer's family were eating their dinner. The sun
was shining a little warm, and the kitchen door was open. It seemed to
me that I would be willing to take off the only coat I had and give it
for a meal. I was famished for something to eat. It seemed to me that I
must have food or I should perish. I said, "I will go to the open door
and ask for a drink of water; perhaps they will ask me to eat." I
received my glass of water but no further invitation; and I went on my
way.

I will say right here that during the forty years that I sat at my own
table no person ever came to my door hungry but he was fed. It made no
difference whether he was drunk or sober, filthy or otherwise. If I
believed he was hungry, he had something to eat; and I have never seen
the time when I would not be willing to go without my own dinner to feed
even a hungry dog.

My second day's experience was much like the first. After it had become
dark, so no one would see me, I crept into a straw stack in a farmer's
barn-yard, and, covering myself as best I could, I knew no more until
morning. I was on the street before day-light, as I was sure if I was
found in the man's barn-yard I should be arrested and sent to jail.

I have never been able to tell much of my third day's journey. I have no
recollection of having any desire for food. I passed through Rochester,
went to the depot, and was directed to the railroad track leading
through Churchville and near to Bergen Corners. I imagine that I
travelled that seventeen miles in less time than any other seventeen
miles in my three days journey.

I received a warm welcome at my uncle's, where, I was afterward told, I
arrived about nine o'clock. They soon discovered that I was sick. A
doctor was called and I was forced to tell them that I had been four
days without food.

Under the kindest of care I speedily recovered, and as soon as proper
clothes could be procured I was sent to school. I spent the winter
pleasantly and was happy in my school work. The school closed in April
and I told my uncle that I was going to find work. He said: "Why not
stay here, there is plenty of work here." I replied: "No, I started out
to earn my living among strangers and I am going."




CHAPTER IV

AS A BRICKMAKER, 1839-1847


I was now twelve years old, and started out the third time to face the
world alone,--seeking for a home. But I was comfortably clad and had
money in my pocket.

Just at night on that day I engaged to a man to make brick at nine
dollars a month. I was located a little north of Albion, Orleans county.
This was destined to be my home for a number of years. I boarded with my
employer and went to school in the winter; and as the brick making
season lasted but about six months of the year, I had a long time to go
to school. I rapidly came to the front as a brick burner, and in a few
years was receiving seventy-five dollars a month and my board.

I remained with this man five years, when I was offered such inducements
to take charge of a large manufactory in Geneva that I was obliged to
accept. I remained in Geneva two seasons, going back to my old school in
the fall.

I was now in my twentieth year and I had a great desire to go back and
visit the scenes of my early boyhood,--to go into the old log house from
which I went out into the darkness on that November night eight years
before. I will say that I kept clear of that other place, where I got
my ears boxed, for fear I should see that woman standing by her
wash-tub, and she would want to know where those pails of water were.

I had been at my old home but a day or two when I received application
from a board of trustees to teach their winter school. I said, yes; if I
can get a certificate. As they wanted the school to begin the next
Monday they told me to go on with the school and they would see the town
superintendent about the license. A few days later I received my license
and the school went on all right.

Before speaking of my experience as a teacher, I would like to review
that part of my life from fourteen to twenty years. I want the young men
and the young ladies who may read this book to realize that I am drawing
a truthful portrait of my life from the age of nine years, when I
commenced to paddle my own canoe, until I was twenty. I would not try to
leave an impression that I was all goodness, as I grew up to young
manhood, that I was very meek, that I never did anything wrong, that I
was down in the corner by the fire-place every evening studying my
lessons.

Oh! no! no! Such a nature as mine could not remain quiet. If there was
mischief going on in the neighborhood I knew it and was in it, and I
never fetched up in the rear. If a couple were married they must have a
serenade. If a young man went to visit his lady-love he usually realized
when he started to go home that the boys had been around. Remember that
this was more than fifty years ago, and many things that were thought
little of then would be all wrong now.

As I remember it now, we were somewhat wild, yet I believe there was a
gentlemanly principle manifested in our lives. We knew when it was time
for fun and when it was time to be quiet and gentlemanly in our
deportment.

As to our habits, the society in which I mingled used to play cards, and
I soon become so fascinated with the game that I would rather play cards
all night than to sleep. One night I retired at an early morning hour,
and before sleeping I thought the matter over and came to the conclusion
that I was a fool to spend my nights in card playing, and become so
excited over the game that I could not sleep even after I retired. I
finally said to myself "_I will never play another game of cards in my
life._" And I never have.

Again I was carried away with what we call now "yellow covered
literature", or cheap novels. I do not condemn novel reading. It is the
low, trashy, simple, love-sick stories that are flooding the most of our
news-rooms and flying all over the land, that I condemn. This is the
kind of reading that will be selected by most of our young people if
unrestrained by their parents; a kind of reading that weakens the
intellect and destroys a taste for histories or other solid reading.
This is the kind of reading that I enjoyed; and on a certain night after
reading until near the morning hour, before sleeping I came to my
senses, and said to myself, "I will never read another love-sick novel
in my life." _And I never have._

Many years ago I saw advertised and heard much said of "Roderick Hume",
a novel written and published by C. W. Bardeen of Syracuse. I said, it
is a novel and I do not care to read it; and it was only a few years ago
that I was induced to read it. I will say that my prejudice against the
reading of a certain kind of novels vanished. I think I was made a
better man and a better teacher by the reading of that book, first by
its clearness and freshness; second by the simplicity and purity of the
language; and third by the plot itself, so entertaining, so natural, so
true to life. Just what one would expect would happen comes to pass all
the way through.

Parents, see that each of your girls and boys has a library case, and
let it be gradually filled with the latest and best standard books. Your
children will grow not only into a habit of reading but into a habit of
reading good literature.




CHAPTER V

MY FIRST SCHOOL, 1847


Now, my friends, let me take you back fifty-two years to a little log
school-house a few miles from Antwerp, in Jefferson county, near the
line of St. Lawrence county, where I was engaged in teaching my first
school. My wages were fourteen dollars a month, and I was to board
around.

This boarding around was jolly fun if one enjoyed it; but I confess I
did not enjoy it as well as perhaps some others would. For instance, the
schoolmaster was a very distinguished individual; he must have the best
the house afforded, and at bed time he was ushered into the _spare_ room
off the parlor, with a zero atmosphere. We had good board and a plenty,
consisting largely of rye-and-indian bread, good butter, potatoes, pork
or mutton, boiled cider apple sauce, and delicious mince pies.

The school-house was comfortable. Wherever the chinking between the logs
had become loose mud-mortar had been used to plaster it up, and every
crevice had been closed. A large open fire-place graced one side of the
room. Pegs had been driven into the logs; and slabs reversed, reaching
around three sides of the room, served as desks. Slabs with pegs driven
in for legs made pretty good seats and, of course, the pupils sat facing
the wall, an advantage to the teacher that the modern school-room does
not afford.

We had plenty of good hard wood and lots of back-logs. The wood was cut
four feet long, and in preparing it from the tree a length would often
be found so knotty that it would not split easily and it was saved for a
back-log. A log four feet long and from ten to fifteen inches in
diameter was something of an affair to handle. But the teacher with the
help of the boys could usually manage it, and the log was placed at the
back of the fire-place, where it would last in cold weather about a
week. The fire was built in front of the log, and the wood was held in
place by large andirons.

Now for the school. I found myself surrounded on Monday morning by forty
or forty-five as bright, as intelligent-looking a class of boys and
girls as I have I have ever met in school.

I thought those young women, some of them as old as their master,
dressed in their home-made plaids, were perfectly beautiful, and I have
never had reason to change my mind.

I am unable to find a full list of the books in use. I find the Old
English reader, Daboll's arithmetic, Webster's speller, and Kirkham's
grammar. I do not remember to have used any geography. Our writing books
were composed of several sheets of fools-cap paper folded and sewn
together by the mother or sister, and the _master_ was expected to set
the copies and mend the goose-quill pens. I think there was no chart or
map of any description in the school-room. All from seven years old up
were expected to read, write, spell, and cipher from the same text-book.

The school was organized and ready for work. I think I never felt more
proud than when standing at my little home-made table in about the
centre of the room, surrounded by that class of boys and girls. And,
think of it, they called me master! And I was their teacher.




CHAPTER VI

A CASE OF DISCIPLINE, 1847


I never felt more confidence in my ability to teach a school. I never
felt less concern regarding the discipline. I knew I could manage the
school, for I could see intelligence in nearly every countenance and
knew the children were subject to discipline at home, and must know what
gentlemanly and lady-like deportment was.

But there are exceptions in nearly all schools. The trustee had told me
that there was one boy who would give me trouble, and that they would
probably have to turn him out, as they did not think I could manage him.
They said he was very quarrelsome, and was fighting the other boys every
few days.

Of course I knew who the boy was. We had a few days of quiet, which gave
me an opportunity to study his character, and also to study the
character of one or two others.

I noticed that this "bully", as he was called, was a large, somewhat
green, good-natured boy, disposed to mind his own business if let alone.
I also noticed that he was the butt of the jokes of two or three others,
who lost no opportunity to annoy him. One in particular seemed to be the
leader in making game of him.

I allowed the matter to go on, knowing it would come to a focus. This
happened one day during the noon hour, when human endurance could stand
it no longer. Thomas went at those three boys, and the result was they
got so thoroughly whipped that they begged to be let up; and they came
into the school room with what I supposed had been their usual
complaint, that Tom had been pounding them.

At the usual time I called the school to order and told Thomas to rise.
He stood up. Now I believe nearly every one in that room had sympathy
for him, and they believed he was going to be punished, as he had been
before on similar occasions. While Thomas stood at his seat I told the
other three boys to step out on the floor, and I went at that
ring-leader of the three with a good hickory ruler. When I was through
with him, he had promised to obey every rule of the school. I then said
to Thomas: "If this boy annoys you any more, if he insults you until you
cannot endure it any longer, you go at him again and give him a good
whipping, and when he comes in I will give him another. Between you and
me I think we can teach him to mind his own business and let you alone.
You are all excused."

Discipline was established and there was no more occasion for punishing
during the four months that I taught that school.




CHAPTER VII

NEW YORK COUNTRY LIFE IN 1847


As to social enjoyment, I have never been with a class of school boys
and girls who loved fun better than they, and I have never known a class
who could get more enjoyment out of a twenty-minute recess or the noon
hour intermission. The character of the games was sometimes a little
questionable, but as they never trespassed upon morality I seldom
interfered.

The snow lay for many weeks from three to four feet deep on a level.
Many a morning when the snow was drifting on arriving at the
school-house I was obliged to shovel the snow away from the windows to
let in light. I have never seen such perseverance manifested in getting
to school under difficulties. Many times when it was impossible for
teams to get through the drifts, I have seen twelve or fifteen boys and
girls coming from different directions, wallowing in Indian file through
the snow. Of course they were all dressed for the occasion and I do not
know that one of them ever took cold.

I will now give you a sample of a noon-time exercise. There was a series
of meetings being held a few miles away, and great interest was
manifested. Many of the older pupils attended. It became quite common
for them to advertise a meeting of their own to be held at a certain
stump some distance from the school-room, at the noon hour. Nearly or
quite all of the older pupils would hasten to eat their dinner, and away
they would go to attend the meeting. The minister would mount the stump
and conduct as regular a prayer meeting as one ever attended. At the end
came the speaking, and usually some one had experienced religion and
must be baptized. The whole congregation then moved out a little into
the deeper snow and the candidate was as formally immersed in snow as
ever one was in water. Everything was conducted in an orderly way, and
to some I think it was real.

About once a week, when the weather and going were suitable, we must
have a spelling school, or we must visit some other spelling school held
in one of the surrounding districts.

I remember on one occasion we had received an invitation to a spelling
school over the hills, about three miles away. Two of the young men put
their teams together, a four-horse rig waited at the school-house, and
we were soon climbing that immense hill.

We had just had our January thaw. In the midst of the thaw the weather
suddenly became very cold; and as a result a thick, strong, slippery
crust was formed on the snow. Just over the brow of the long steep hill
we found the sleigh tracks led into the field, as the drifts in the road
had not been shovelled out. Our team was a little fractious, and as we
turned into the field the sleigh, with its load of forty girls and boys
went over upon the crust, on the lower side. As I said, the crust was
very steep and slippery and we were helpless. There was nothing for us
to do but to go to the foot of that hill as gracefully as we could. A
few lodged against the stumps, two or three reached the street fence,
but nearly all fetched up in the valley below.

Reader, did you ever ride down hill with the girls without a handsled?
It is jolly fun to ride with them on a handsled, but I tell you it's a
hundred times jollier to ride without one. The girls won't generally
ride with you if you have no handsled, but on this occasion they were
rather obliged to, by force of circumstances. It might be a point to be
settled in such condition whether it would be proper for you to sit in
the girl's lap or for her to sit in yours, but in our case there was not
much time to discuss that matter, so we each chose our own position;
some went feet first, some went head first, and some took it sidewise.
The main thing was to keep going, which I assure you we did.

I won't trouble you with a detailed account of our tribulations in
climbing that hill to where our sleigh was waiting. We climbed mostly in
couples. Occasionally a couple would drop out of sight, we would see a
descending streak in the darkness, and presently they would land at the
bottom. But finally we succeeded in reaching the sleigh, but the time
was reported as quarter past nine and it was voted that we go home.

One more incident, a result of boarding round, will close the history of
my first winter of teaching school.

We usually spent a week in a place and I spent a week with a family
where I found six young children. The family seemed quite poor. The
little log house had three rooms on the first floor, kitchen, parlor,
and bedroom and of course, I occupied the bedroom. The second floor was
composed of loose boards laid down but not fastened. They had warped so
that some of them seemed to rest almost on their edges. In fact there
was little to prevent one in the lower room from seeing into the upper
or from the upper room into the lower. It seemed to me that all of those
six children occupied the room directly over mine.

But presently we all settled down, and the snoring indicated that the
household were asleep. I rested well, but tribulation came in the
morning. I had placed my boots in a convenient place on the floor, and
laid my socks carefully on the boots. I was somewhat surprised, as I was
about to draw on my socks, to find they were wet; and also that water
had leaked into my boots. I said, "Surely it must have rained in the
night," and the roof leaking, the water has dripped clear down through
onto my boots. "Queer! Queer! Queer!" I said to myself, and stepping to
the window I could see no appearance of its having rained.

I drew on my socks, but very soon learned that, as the boots fitted a
little tight, I could not draw them on over wet socks; so I put the
socks into my pocket, drew on the boots, went out to breakfast, went to
the school-house, readjusted my socks and boots, and was ready for the
day's work. I will say that the weather was dry all the rest of the week
and as I took the precaution to put my boots under the bed every night,
they were always dry in the morning.

Oh my friends! It is fun to board round if you enjoy it.




CHAPTER VIII

IN BUSINESS AGAIN


In the spring of 1847 I entered into partnership with Mr. E. B.
Hinsdell, to make brick. We were located about three miles north of
Salina on the Brewerton plank road, at what was then called the Old Log
Cabin place. It was at this time that I made the mistake of my life. I
should have chosen teaching as my profession and fitted myself for it,
but I could not see that teaching was my work; or rather, I would not
see it, for I think it was clearly made known to me that I ought to
finish my education, thus fitting myself for teaching. I could earn high
wages during a part of the year, and put the rest of my time into
college work, and in a few years come out a college graduate. I knew
this, but my ambition to get money overcame my desire for a higher
education.

For a few years I made money, but there came a time when I realized my
mistake. I had contracted for the delivery of large quantities of
building brick in Syracuse, and, with ten laboring men in my employ, not
one of whom knew anything of burning brick, I was taken sick from
overwork, and did not recover until near the end of the brickmaking
season. On looking about after my recovery I found the few thousand
dollars that I had saved had been swept away, and I was broken in health
and poor.

But I was not standing alone. My noble wife, who had come to me two
years before, stood right at my side; and her words of encouragement,
her comforting influence, her christian confidence and trust in Him who
doeth all things well, became an inspiration to me. I realized that He
in whom I thought I trusted knew better than I what I ought to have done
when I refused to follow my impressions of duty.

I will say before closing this chapter, that we were content to start
again at the foot of the ladder, and by prudence, industry, and
continuous climbing, in a few years we found ourselves in comfortable
circumstances again.




CHAPTER IX

THE WATERBURY DISTRICT, 1847-9


It is the design of this narrative to deal more particularly with
matters relating to my school experience. So I will ask you to go back
with me to the fall of 1847, when I contracted to teach my first school
in Onondaga county. This school is situated about one mile north of
Liverpool in the town of Clay. We called it the Waterbury district.

The next thing after securing a school was to get a license to teach it.
I thought if the trustees would only be so kind as to get a license for
me, as they did over in Jefferson county, it would be very convenient;
but teachers cannot always rely upon trustees to procure their
certificates for them, so it was evident to me that I would have to face
the fire alone.

I learned that the town superintendent for the town of Clay was Dr. J.
F. Johnson, and that he lived at Clay Corners, six miles away. I knew by
the name that he was a very learned man, and a doctor too! I wondered
how many medical questions he would ask me, and how much I would have to
know of physiology and hygiene. Then I knew there was another word
connected with physiology but could not remember it. I knew it referred
to the cutting up of the body after a person is dead. I hoped he would
not ask me about that word.

I started very early in the morning after putting a lunch in my pocket,
as I supposed the examination would last all day, and perhaps two or
three days. I could walk six miles in those days in about as short a
time as a horse would travel that distance, so I went on foot.

I found the doctor at the store and made known my errand. After we had
talked fifteen or twenty minutes he said we would go over to his office.
On arrival there he told me to be seated and he would return in a few
minutes, and I soon saw him in his gig driving down the street. I waited
nearly an hour for his return.

To say I was angry would hardly express it. I had come six miles almost
on a run to begin my examination early, so that I might finish and get
home before dark. Nearly two hours had already passed and the
examination had not commenced.

But the doctor soon came into the office, filled and lighted his pipe,
asked me if I would smoke, and began a conversation on matters and
things in general which lasted about thirty minutes.

He was then called to some other part of the house, and I was left to
wonder for another half hour why the examination did not commence. At
length he returned, and after refilling and lighting his pipe he sat
down to his desk and commenced to write. Again I said to myself, why
don't the old fool begin the examination? At the expiration of about
five minutes he handed me a paper, saying he was satisfied that I could
teach that school. That was my certificate. The examination was ended
while I was waiting for it to begin.

I started to go, when the doctor said, "Oh, no, our dinner is just now
ready, and we must have some dinner before you go."

I think if I had lived where it was practicable, I would have employed
Doctor Johnson as my family physician all the rest of my life!

I was living at the old log cabin on the Brewester plank road, and on
Monday morning I started, armed with my certificate according to law,
for my school. I had never seen the school-house, and you may imagine my
disappointment when I found a little dingy building, so old that it had
settled into the ground and the clapboards were dropping off. The
squeaky old door was not locked, and I opened it and entered in.

A better state of things existed inside. I found a good stove, and
plenty of good wood in the woodshed. The desks were fastened to the
wall and there were pretty good benches for seats. Some pictures, maps,
and charts hung on the walls and altogether the old house looked better
inside--much more encouraging.

In referring to the registry of that year I find that seventy-four
pupils were crowded into that little school-room. I have never taught a
school that was easier to manage. The Dunham, Price, Weller, Vickery,
Fullerton, Waterbury, Moshell, and Green families were represented by
pupils who gave character to the school, and the discipline took care of
itself.

No marked event occurred to interfere with the school until eight days
before the end of the term. A number of district meetings had been held
to make arrangements for a new school-house, but had failed to get a
favorable vote. An adjourned meeting was to be held on a Friday evening.
On the afternoon of that same day a little girl jumped up and cried:
"Oh! the school house is on fire!" Not a boy in that room would bring a
pail of water. The school was called to order, the pupils were
admonished to gather all their books, and by the tap of the bell they
marched out in perfect order. Thus ended my first winter school in
Onondaga county.

During the summer the trustees came over and purchased brick for a new
school-house. The present building was built, and I had the pleasure of
teaching my second winter in the new house.

Perhaps the reader would like to know more of my experience in boarding
round. I will say I came to enjoy it pretty well. I had little
difficulty in finding boarding places. I was in the habit of sending
word about the middle of the week that I would like to board with a
certain family next week. Usually it was all right. Sometimes, however,
I would be requested to wait a couple of weeks until they had killed
their hogs; or "until the beef critter was killed", but usually if they
were out of meat they would kill a sheep, and buck-wheat cakes with
plenty of mutton and mutton gravy made pretty good living.




CHAPTER X

A CASE OF DISCIPLINE, 1849


One instance of discipline in my third year's experience is perhaps
worth telling. My school was at Podunk. A large, fine class of girls and
boys greeted me on Monday morning but I soon learned that it would
require strong discipline to hold those girls and boys to such order as
I wanted and would have in my school.

It must be remembered that in those days teachers were expected to fight
their way in maintaining order, more than they are now. The first
questions that came into the minds of the boys as they came into the
room on the first day of school, and looked upon the teacher the first
time, were, How tall is he? How much does he weigh? Can we handle him?
They made no allowance for moral force. It was only physical strength
that they feared. I labored under great disadvantage, through being
small of stature and low in the scale of avoirdupois.

Now I would not be understood to say that all the boys in that school
were ready to thrash the teacher if he did not behave according to their
ideas of propriety. There were young men there who came to school to
learn, and whose influence and sympathy were with the teacher. It is the
few,--three or four or five, who clique together in opposition to the
teacher--that sometimes give trouble.

School had been organized, lessons were assigned and I began to call the
classes, when a tall boy on the back seat rose and said, "May I go out?"
I said "No; we shall have our recess in ten minutes; please wait until
recess." He sat down but in about a minute rose and said, "I'm goin'
out," and started for the door.

I was in the back part of the room but about three jumps carried me to
the door, and with my back against it, I faced him as he stood about six
feet in front of me. I stood a moment trying to get his eye, but you
never can get the eye of a coward. I finally said, "My friend, you never
will go out of this school-room alive until I let you go. You go to your
seat."

Do you think he went to his seat? He knew very well that he could push
me aside, open the door and go out. Do you think I feared him? I had no
more fear of him than I would have of a ten-year-old boy. I was as sure
that he would go to his seat as I was that I was standing at that door.
With no hesitation whatever he turned about and went to his seat and the
school went on. Surely moral force is stronger than physical, but in
cases of emergency, I have found it necessary to have on hand a supply
of both of these virtues.

The school had been going on quietly for some days when at the boys'
recess in the forenoon an old fashioned tin dinner-horn was tooted out
in the yard. I stepped to the window and saw it in the hands of my
friend William. I opened the window and said, "William, come into the
school-room." With a terrible oath he refused to come in for me or
anybody else. I will here say that this is the only instance in all of
my experience in teaching, that a pupil refused to mind me, or to do
what I told him to do in connection with the order of school.

As we all occupied the same yard, it was necessary to have separate
recesses. So I rapped on the window for the boys to come in, that the
girls might have their recess. All came in but William, who remained
standing in the yard near the front gate, evidently not inclined to come
in, or to leave the school ground.

Now here was a dilemma! A pupil standing in the yard, and refusing to
leave it, and time for the girls to have their recess. Fellow teachers,
what would you have done under those circumstances? The young man was
nearly six feet tall, heavier and stronger than I, and I knew he could
handle me if he should get hold of me, and yet I was as sure that boy
would come in as I was that I was teaching that school. He was a large,
strong boy, yet I knew I could make six motions to his one. I stepped
out at the rear door and said, "William, you must go into the
school-room." I received for reply a number of strong oaths with a flat
refusal.

I was not as well acquainted with school-law then as I am now, and did
not know as I had a right to go into the street for the boy, for I
believed he would run. But the law was of small account to me then; that
boy was going into the school-room. I started for him and he did run,
but his running was of small account for I could run two rods to his one
and soon came up to him. Before he had time to think what I was after,
my two hands had a good grip in his hair, he was doubled over with his
head about two feet from the ground and was trotting toward the
school-house. He did not get his head higher until we were inside, and I
went at him with a good ruler. When I let him up, it was after he had
promised to obey every rule of my school, never to be saucy to me, and
never to use another profane word on that play-ground. He went to his
seat peaceably and at noon came to me and very civilly asked if he might
go home. Knowing he was in no condition to study I said, "Yes." I have
not given this boy's full name but will say, his father kept the Old
Red Tavern about one and a half miles south of Podunk.

Three of the most noted places on that street were Podunk, Owl's Head,
and the Old Red Tavern. I was obliged to pass the Old Red Tavern in
going home. In the middle of the street I was met by the father of the
boy and, leaving out the profanity and the threats, I listened to a very
eloquent lecture, in which he assured me that he would have me in the
penitentiary before the next night. I listened attentively, and without
making reply passed on. I imagine that I did not have much appetite for
supper that night, for I did not know but he could put me in the lockup.

After tea I went up to the corners and called the trustees together. The
board was composed of three representative men: John F. Hicks and J.
Kincaid, both acting justices of the peace at that time, and James
Chesbro. On the assembling of the board, I stated the circumstances, and
the president said: "Mr. Hooper we have hired you to teach our school.
If that boy comes back and does not obey your rules, you go at him
again, only be a little more severe the next time, and we will stand
between you and all harm. It shall not cost you a cent."

I wonder how many of the trustees of the schools realize how much good
an encouraging word does a teacher. I went back to my school the next
morning feeling as strong as a lion. I had not only my own strength but
also the strength of the three strong men just back of me. The question
of discipline was settled. I think those boys believed that I would
climb a boy six feet tall and wring his neck if he did not mind me.
There was no more trouble on that line during the three years that I
taught the Podunk school.

I will say before closing this chapter, that William came to school
after a week's absence, and never gave me more trouble. Some years
afterward I met him at Amboy, where he had married and settled. While
teaching at Amboy I raised several acres of tobacco and used to hire
William to help me hoe it. While working together in the tobacco we used
to talk and laugh over our little scrap at the Podunk school, and I
think the man respected me much more than if the incident had not
occurred.

Podunk was a place much better known fifty years ago than it is now.
That is, it had a far reaching reputation. It was said that one
travelling in western States, if he chanced to speak of Syracuse would
find that little was known of it; but if he mentioned Podunk he would
find that it was well-known. I remember at one time when eight or ten
railroad conductors came out there on what they called a lark. Soon
after they arrived they cut the flagpole down and stretching it across
the street made a tollgate of it, and every man who came along must pay
toll. If he had a woman with him, however, the pole was carried back and
all stood with uncovered heads while she was passing. The constable was
notified and came in haste. They listened respectfully while he
explained the law and told them that they would be arrested if they did
not desist at once. They gathered around, took him in their arms, and
carrying him to the bar, told the landlord to fill the glasses. The
constable being a strong temperance man, some friends interfered in his
behalf, and he was told that if he would go right home and be a good boy
they would let him go.

But Podunk is no more. Under the march of civilization, Centerville with
Plank Road P. O. has taken its place; and with another stride onward in
the scale of knowledge, it is now honored with the name of North
Syracuse. Owl's Head has long since been forgotten. The old Red Tavern
has been swept away, and the places that knew them will know them no
more.




CHAPTER XI

TOBACCO IN SCHOOL, 1852


As we are writing under the head of incidents of school experience, and
that my young readers may compare the old with the new, permit me to say
farther of this same school that after three years of happy experience I
went into what we called the Brown district school, and a man of long
experience was engaged in the Podunk school. Some three or four weeks
after the school had commenced I met one of the trustees who asked me to
visit the school and see how the teacher, whom I had recommended to
them, was getting along, as they understood he was teaching all of the
boys, and he did not know but the girls, to smoke. Being then a resident
of the Podunk district, I embraced the first opportunity to visit the
school. I found a fine class of pupils present, many of them young men
and women. I noticed a general confusion in the room, yet all were busy
and the work went on until recess. (The progress of civilization had
made it apparent that it was better to have separate yards for girls and
boys, so the recess came at the same time.)

Immediately after recess was announced, the teacher filled and lighted
his pipe, several of the boys lighted cigars, and they all had a visit
and a smoke together. I spoke to the teacher of the impropriety of
smoking in the school-room. He replied that he could not get along from
morning until noon without smoking and as he was obliged to smoke he
could not deprive the boys of the same privilege. As the school went on
after recess I noticed that the boys were free to cross the room and
sitting beside the girls to talk over their lessons, and I suppose,
their parties. They all seemed very free to change about while the
teacher kept hard at work.

At noon I had an opportunity to ask the young folks how it went: "Oh!
grandly," they said. They never had so much fun in school in their
lives. I asked the teacher about the whispering and general confusion,
and he said he did not believe in still schools. By allowing the pupils
to change their seats, they could help each other, and it saved a great
deal of time. And then he loved to hear that buzzing sound in the room.
It sounded like the mill grinding corn. It seemed as if there was
business going on.

I will add that there were sensible pupils in that school. They had
become a little intoxicated with the fun, but as soon as they sobered
up, they realized that they were not learning, and one day they had a
quarrel with their teacher, and the school was closed.




CHAPTER XII

IN VARIOUS SCHOOLS, 1853-1872


My two years' or two winters' experience in the Brown school was marked
by no interruptions. I had some boys who were regarded as a little
rough, but we got along very pleasantly. I have heard my friend Mr. Fred
Smiley of North Syracuse relate an incident of that school which I will
repeat. He said that in the spring, just before the close of my first
year, one of the trustees in conversation with a young man who had
formerly given some trouble in the school, said to him: "You used a year
ago to call that little teacher that we had from Syracuse, Kinky! Kinky!
Kinky! Why don't you call this one Kinky?" The reply was: "He is nothing
but a kinky, but darn him we dare not tell him so. They knew they could
handle him, but for some mysterious reason they dared not undertake it."

My next two winters were spent at Pine Grove, about one mile north of
Podunk, where teachers and pupils enjoyed the work and were happy. This
school was represented by such families as those of Rev. Earl P.
Salisbury, Merritt Belden, Merriam, Lilly, and other representative men,
and the school was intelligent.

After nine years of teaching in the northern towns, I settled in the
school at Amboy in the town of Camillus. I spent four years very
pleasantly at Amboy. The only incident that I care to relate is a little
advice given me by the trustee about three weeks after the school had
begun. As I went into his grocery store one evening he made this remark:
"Mr. Hooper, there are three boys in your school who do not intend to
mind you. Now you may do as you have a mind to, but I will tell you what
I would do. The first time one of those boys refused to mind me, I would
knock him down with a stick of wood or anything I could get hold of."
Rather radical advice for a trustee to give his teacher. I said: "I am
abundantly able to manage my school. I shall not call on my trustee to
help me."

The school was pleasant and I think as a rule we were all happy.

I then spent two years at the upper or western Fairmount school. I have
never taught a school that gave me more satisfaction than this one.
There are two departments, and we were obliged to use the second room
for a study room, as there were many more than one room would
accommodate. This school was represented by such families as the
Driscoll, Plumb, Murphy, Whedon, Gaylord, Canally, Hubbard, Wadsworth,
and Leddy families.

I think could James Driscoll have lived he might have reached the
Nation's capital sooner than his brother Michael. He was a tall,
fine-looking young man, full of fun and full of work. He died at the age
of twenty-nine.

Some of my older readers will remember _Jeemes_ of the Baldwinsville
Gazette, or rather James Clark. If I am not mistaken Mr. Clark filled
out a term as school commissioner made vacant by the resignation of
Alonzo H. Clapp. I can hardly forbear to say just here of Alonzo H.
Clapp that it was a costly war that required the lives of such men. He
was young, thoroughly educated, true to the principles of right. Could
he have lived he would have reflected honor upon his chosen profession.

An incident of this school occurs to me which I will relate. On a
certain morning, when the seats in the senior room were all filled and
the arithmetic recitations were going on, a tall, dark-complexioned,
black-haired gentleman entered the room and announced himself the school
commissioner. We gave him a seat and the work went on until half-past
eleven, when at the ringing of the table-bell the folding doors were
thrown open, and fifteen girls and boys, as intelligent a class as I
have ever had in any school, passed out to the recitation. The
commissioner leaned back in his chair and expressed himself in about
the following language: "Well, Mr. Hooper, I have found an oasis! I have
been travelling in the desert all the week and truly this is an oasis!"

In the fall of 1863 I had a call to the Geddes village school, then
consisting of two hundred ten pupils, with four teachers. During my
principalship it grew in numbers (including the Magnolia branch) to nine
hundred sixty pupils with seventeen teachers. I do not care to say much
of my experience as principal of the Geddes school. They told us we had
a good school, but I have to confess that as I look back upon the
methods of doing school work then and compare them with the present, and
see how much more is being accomplished, and how much less time is
required in which to accomplish it, I hardly feel to admit that my
school was even then a good school.

Perhaps before closing this chapter I should say for the satisfaction of
the more than nine hundred contributors to the beautiful tribute of
their kindness and generosity, that after almost thirty years have
passed it is ticking off the time in my pocket by day and by night as
correctly as ever.




CHAPTER XIII

A SCHOOL COMMISSIONER, 1873-1878


In the fall of 1872 I was elected to the office of school commissioner
of the second district of Onondaga county, and re-elected in 1875,
holding the office six years.

The school commissioner has always been considered, like the
schoolmaster of olden time, a distinguished individual. It is an
honorable office, and any man may consider himself honored who has been
elected to it by a fair majority of the voters of his district. But when
a man has to buy influence and pay for it in money, in whisky, in beer,
and cigars, in order to be elected, there is not much honor in it.

I was at this time suffering for want of out-of-door exercise. Through
the kindness of my friends in giving me the office, I got all that I
wanted, and from January to April I thought a little more than I needed;
for I came near freezing to death.

I found the larger schools doing well, and some of the more rural
schools were doing their work well, and producing good results. But they
were like fertile spots in the desert, few and far between.

The most of the rural schools were in a sad condition. For instance I
stayed at a farmer's house over night. In the evening a little boy about
seven years old who was playing with his toys was requested by his
mother to get his school reader and read for the commissioner. The
little boy read some stories that I selected for him in as pleasant,
natural, story-like way as one could wish. I visited the school the next
morning, and when the class of which this little boy was a member was
called, I turned to one of the pieces that had been read so nicely the
evening before and requested the teacher to allow the children to read
it. To say that I was surprised would hardly express it. The boy at the
end of the class pitched the key--struck the tune and read the first
verse. No. 2 with the same pitch and in the same tune read the second
verse. The boy who had read this piece so nicely in the evening at home
was No. 3, and taking the same class pitch and tune read his verse in
that same strange, unnatural voice. He dared not read naturally, the
class would laugh at him, the whole school would laugh at him, and I do
not know but the teacher would. The intelligent mother was teaching her
boy to read correctly. The teacher was undoing every day what the mother
was trying to accomplish.

Now this is a fair sample of the silly work that was done in many of the
schools of the county in the teaching of reading less than thirty years
ago.

What was very strange to me, and for which I have never been able to
account, was the fact that wherever this strange pitch and tune was
found in a class, it was in all classes, not only in the reading but in
the other recitations. And it was precisely the same in schools twenty
miles apart.

I learned the tune so perfectly that I can take the pitch and sing a
verse in that tune now as well as I could then. It is the second tune
that I ever learned. My wife used to tell me that I knew but one tune,
and that was "From Greenlands Icy mountains". But I learned this tune as
perfectly as the other, and can sing both of them very nicely now.




CHAPTER XIV

TEACHERS ASSOCIATIONS


I think that ever since commissioner district teachers meetings were
first organized, it has been conceded by the better class of teachers
that much good came from them. We had in those days usually four
meetings a year, and they were well attended.

The most good that I ever realized from teachers meetings was in town
gatherings. I would visit the schools of a town and at the same time see
the trustee of each school, and ask him to allow the teacher to close
her school at noon on Friday without deducting from her salary, as I
wanted her at the teacher's meeting. Not in a single instance did a
trustee refuse to allow the teacher to go, and almost always, if
necessary, he would provide means for her to get there. Many a Friday
afternoon have I spent pleasantly with ten or twelve teachers,
discussing our successes and our failures, and advising each other how
to overcome difficulties such as we must meet in the school-room.

I am sorry to note that teachers associations are becoming less frequent
in Onondaga county, and I know of no reason other than that school
commissioners are receiving a higher salary now than they got thirty
years ago.

The first teachers institute that I attended was held in Syracuse, and
was conducted by John H. French. The second was held in the old White
school house in Baldwinsville, and was conducted by James Johonnot.
These two men were types of the noble men sent out by the State
department, to build up teachers institutes in New York State, and well
did they do their work. One of the strongest evidences of the growing
efficiency of the teachers institutes from those days to the present, is
found in the greater efficiency of our teachers and the improved methods
of doing school work.

The department has sometimes made mistakes, and men have been sent to
conduct our institutes who were good for nothing as teachers. But I will
say of the present administration, if a single mistake has been made on
this line, Onondaga county has not found it.

It is but a few years since the law requiring attendance at the
institute was in force, and there were more liberties taken in the old
days than now.

I remember an incident at an institute held at Skaneateles, while I was
principal of the school at Geddes.

One morning, while the bell was being rung for the morning session, as
I was sitting by the window fronting the lake, I saw my whole corps of
teachers, to the number of seventeen, headed up the lake under full
sail, waving their handkerchiefs. After an hour's sail they came in
looking as fresh, as innocent, and as good-natured as one could wish. I
will say that I never whipped a girl in my school in my life. But if I
could have taken one of those gads spoken of in another part of this
book, and laid it onto those seventeen young women's shoulders about six
times apiece, I think it would have been perfect bliss--for me.




CHAPTER XV

SOLVAY, 1879-1884


At the termination of my term of office I engaged as principal of school
No. 2, Geddes, now Solvay, where I remained six years.

I enjoyed my school at No. 2 very much, and I think the boys and girls
of that time, now grown to men and women, are glad to meet and shake
hands with their old teacher.

I can hardly forbear to relate a little incident of this school which
occurred while I was in the school commissioner work. A young man with a
good education, so far as book knowledge was concerned, was engaged to
teach the school. It soon became evident to the commissioner that he
lacked one of the principal requisites of a successful teacher,--that is
common sense. The school amounted to nothing for want of discipline. The
school had two departments, and there was a large class of older pupils
who had evidently been in the habit of running the school about to suit
their own notion. The young man was obliged to quit, and Peter B.
McLennan, then reading law in one of the law offices of Syracuse, was
engaged to finish the term. I was told by the pupils, that the school
passed along quietly for some days, when, as the teacher was hearing a
class of young boys and girls recite their lesson and talking with them
about their geography work, a couple of young men sitting a little back
took it upon them to cut up. The teacher, with a book in one hand and
continuing the conversation with the class, quietly walked back and
taking one of the young men by the collar lifted him up over the desks
and carried him to the front. Not breaking his conversation, he lifted
the other with one hand and, carrying him to the front, passed on as if
nothing had happened. Discipline was established and there was no more
trouble on that line.

I will add another anecdote of this teacher, now a distinguished justice
of the supreme court. At our teachers institute one of the conductors
had made himself disagreeable by putting on airs and talking down to the
teachers. He gave a lesson on local geography, in the course of which he
asked how long Onondaga lake was. Some thought it was five miles, some
five and a half, some six, some six and a half. He burst into a tirade
against their ignorance, saying these lakes of central New York were
world famous; a teacher in Louisiana or in Liverpool or in Vienna ought
to know their dimensions. How disgraceful for Onondaga teachers not to
know, and know for certain, that Onondaga lake was six miles long. When
he was through young McLennan quietly asked him how wide it was. The
conductor could not tell; he had not looked that up.




CHAPTER XVI

FINAL EXPERIENCES AS A TEACHER, 1884-1899


In the spring of 1884 I engaged to teach in Baldwinsville, on the south
side of the river. I had a very pleasant school experience in
Baldwinsville for three years, when I engaged to go to Cayuga, in Cayuga
county. My nervous system at this time was nearly prostrated, and after
trying two months to overcome my nervousness and settle down to school
work I was obliged to give it up.

I rested the remainder of the school year, and the next year I went into
the West Fairmount school, where I taught the children of those who were
my pupils thirty-one and thirty-two years before. To say I enjoyed this
school is unnecessary, for I have never taught a school that I did not
enjoy; and I suppose that the fact that I have always been happy in my
school work has had something to do with prolonging my school-life.

After six years of school work at Fairmount, I went into the Euclid
school, in the town of Clay, where I remained five years. Forty-five
years before, I had taught my first school in the county in the town of
Clay, and I had some desire to finish my work in the same town. After
five years of happy experience in Euclid I found I had described a fifty
year circle, and on advising with my doctor as to the probability of my
being able to describe another such a circle I followed his advice and
retired.

I shall never forget my last year of school. I had some misgivings at
the beginning of the year about being able to go through. The first half
year of school passed, and I felt that I could not finish my year.
"But," I said, "it is my fiftieth year of school in Onondaga county";
and I prayed earnestly that I might have strength to finish the year.
That same will-power that had so many times come to the rescue seemed to
impel me on, and I finished the work of teaching on the seventeenth day
of June, 1899. On that, to me, memorable afternoon, as the last pupil
bade me a pleasant good-by, I settled back in my chair and said to
myself, "It is done!"

And now my dear readers, my school life is ended. The story of my young
boyhood, the struggles that I experienced, the pledges that I made, the
power that was given me to keep my pledges sacred, the Divine help and
protecting care that were given me amid dangers, have all been recorded.
I have narrated my experience from the age of twenty, when fortune
seemed to smile upon me and I was enabled to earn my living, and also
to get an education; my return to St. Lawrence county and my first
school experience; my boarding around; coasting down hill on the crust
on our way to the spelling school; the commencement of fifty year's
experience as a teacher in Onondaga county.




CHAPTER XVII

ATTENDANCE AND TARDINESS


I have often been asked by teachers, especially of the rural schools,
one or more of the following questions:

(1) How do you secure regular attendance?

(2) How do you prevent tardiness?

(3) How do you prevent whispering?

(4) Do you advise teachers to play with their pupils out of school
hours?

(5) Do you believe in corporal punishment?

I have been accustomed to reply as follows:

(1) To secure regular attendance, be attractive yourself, full of
enthusiasm and interest in your work. Never let time drag with yourself
or your pupils. Make your school-room attractive. Engage the interest of
your pupils to help you to make your school-room and play-ground just as
beautiful as possible, and secure the coperation of the trustee; visit
the parents of the habitually absent, stay to tea, and talk the matter
over. If absent again, go down that same night and talk it over again.
Be sure to stay to tea every time you go, and it won't be long before
Johnny will be in school regularly.

(2) To prevent tardiness, never be tardy your self. A teacher should be
a pattern of punctuality. He should be on time in meeting all of his
engagements, both social and business. He should be on time at school,
on time at church, on time everywhere. Teach the parents that there is
no excuse for tardiness; and if necessary send a printed circular to all
the parents setting forth the importance of children's learning lessons
of promptness. Just such a circular as you can write and as will cost
but a few cents to have seventy-five or a hundred printed, will prove of
great help.

But, you say, suppose after all some do come in tardy, what will you do?
Always let them come in, and never whip them. But you may talk to them,
and you can soon make it unpopular for pupils to come into school-room
after the school has begun.

On a certain Saturday a number of years since I started from a little
west of Syracuse to go to Auburn. I walked up the turnpike to Camillus,
and as I reached a point on the east hill near the station I saw the
train moving out. The conductor was standing on the rear platform. I
called loudly to him to stop the train. I told him our clock was too
slow, and I did not mean to be tardy. I told him my mother was sick and
I had to go for the doctor. I told him I had to mind the baby while my
mother washed the dishes, and I had to chop some wood for my mother to
get dinner. He just stood looking at me and laughed. I finally told him
that my little brother had just died; I thought surely that would break
his heart, but he kept going right on all the time, laughing at me.

Now do you not think that conductor was a hard-hearted man? I wanted to
go to Auburn and he was going right that way. To be sure I was about one
minute late, but I had brought the very best of excuses, just such as
nine-tenths of the teachers would accept, and this man would not accept
one of them.

Now let us look a moment at the position held by this man and see if we
can find a reason for his treating me so shabbily. This train was loaded
with men, women, and children; and the conductor was legally and morally
responsible not only for their safety, but also for their reaching their
destination on time, and he had no time to stop for a laggard. Again the
train in that one minute time had reached a velocity that had carried it
beyond the power of the conductor. He could not stop it if he would. Its
own momentum would carry it on.

Now my school carries as precious a load as any railroad train, and I am
legally and morally responsible for the safety of the pupils, and also
for their moral and intellectual development into good business men and
women. If I find a fault growing in the character of one of these
pupils, it is my business to try and remove it, and a laggard will never
make much of a business man.

I love to look upon my school, although it may be far away, hid among
the hills in the country, and contain but ten little children, as a part
of the great educational system of my country, and feel that I am one of
the great army of teachers, working faithfully to develop the girls and
boys in my charge into true manhood and womanhood.

Would I send a tardy pupil home? Yes if I had a right to. But as I have
not, I will make it so unpleasant for him that he will rather go home
than come into my school-room tardy.

Oh! but you say, he will lose all of his lessons of that session. Yes,
he will, but what will he gain? Perhaps I can answer the question by
telling you what I gained by the conductor's refusing to wait just one
minute for me at the station. It was this: when I wanted to take the
train at Camillus again to go to Auburn I was on time.




CHAPTER XVIII

WHISPERING


(3) To prevent whispering, the best way I have ever found is to crowd it
out with hard work. Another good way is to vote it out. Ask your pupils
to sign a pledge that they will not whisper in study hours. And after
you have crowded it out and voted it out and pledged it out you will
find some from whom you would like to thrash it out. I have sometimes
worked the reporting system successfully. It will work well in some
schools; in others it should never be used. If you find that even one
pupil is not reporting truthfully, either silence that one, or
discontinue the plan.

A case in hand will show to what means pupils will sometimes resort to
avoid telling a falsehood, and yet have their own way.

In my own experience in one of the larger schools a class graduated from
the junior to the senior room. Among the graduates were three girls who
were close companions, and more than usually bright. It soon became
evident to me that those three girls were whispering every day and
reporting perfect. In my conversation with them after school, they
admitted that they whispered in study hours, and that they reported
perfect. But they indignantly denied that they told falsehoods.

I told them that I had confidence in their integrity. I said, "It would
break your mothers' hearts if they knew that you were telling a
falsehood here every day, and you will have to explain."

They much preferred to settle the matter with me rather than to have it
go to their mothers, and they explained that all the while they were in
the junior room the rule was that they must not whisper to each other in
study hours. So whenever they whispered they always said "Miss White"
first, and then said what they wanted to. They had done the same since
they had been in my room, so they had never whispered to each other, but
to Miss White in the junior, and to Mr. Hooper, in the senior room.

So I say be cautious in the use of the reporting system, but if you use
it make it thorough.

(4) As to whether teachers should play with their pupils out of school
hours, I will say that any game that is suitable for pupils is suitable
for teachers, and I am sorry for a teacher who cannot enter heartily
into the sports of the children.




CHAPTER XIX

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT


(5) As to corporal punishment, I will say that the more experience I
have in dealing with children, the less I believe in punishing; and I
have come to believe that the enactment of a law making it a misdemeanor
for a teacher to punish a pupil by inflicting pain upon his body as a
means of preserving order in school, would be a wise law.

We are expected to use such means to preserve order in our schools as a
judicious parent would use in governing his children in the family.
There are injudicious parents; and we have injudicious teachers who
never ought to be allowed to punish a child.

Under this head let me state a few facts that have come under my own
observation. The first implements of torture in use in the schools that
I remember to have seen, were ironwood ox-gads, four or five feet long,
and steamed in the fire to make them still more tough. Sixty years ago,
five or six such gads laid up overhead in the school-room were
considered a part of the winter teacher's kit, and he was not considered
much of a teacher if he was not able to use them.

Other punishments were the dunce-card, the red cap, and the printed
card. I do not know but these are still in use. Another was the
wheel-platform; this consisted of a board about one foot square with a
small wheel, like a castor, under each corner. I never saw this worked,
but have been told that the pupil was required to stand on the platform
with his book, when the teacher, watching his opportunity, would kick
the platform from behind, letting him down on the back of his head.

Next, the sweat-chain. This was a small trace chain prepared with a
slipping noose at one end to attach to the stove-pipe or crane of the
fire-place, and a lock at the other end. It was worked by passing the
chain around the pupil's body, drawing him up, and locking him to the
pipe. Then a good fire in the stove soon sweated all the evil out. This
convenient apparatus was in use in some of the schools of Onondaga
county less than forty-five years ago.

Another quite popular method of punishment, and one that I have seen
worked, was for the teacher to draw a chalk line on the floor, which the
pupil must toe and bending over put the end of his fingers on another
line drawn some distance in front; then, holding up one foot, he was in
a position of agony during the pleasure of the teacher. This mode of
punishment was somewhat common in the more rural schools of the 2d
district of the county in 1872 and 1873. In the winter of 1873 I found
it in use as I stepped into a school-room. I immediately informed the
teacher that I was there to inspect his methods of teaching and not of
punishing, and would like that boy to be released. There were
intelligent young women in that room who blushed with shame and
indignation at that spectacle.




CHAPTER XX

RESPONSIBILITY OF THE TEACHER


I think it would be well for our department of public instruction to
appoint a committee whose duty it shall be to prepare specimens of the
bull-gad, the dunce-block, cap, and motto, the platform-car, the
sweat-chain, the paddle as used in the Elmira Reformatory, and the
hickory ruler, and deposit them in our State capitol at Albany as relics
of the means used to preserve order in our schools during the barbarous
ages.

I would like just here to speak of a subject that is not connected with
discipline.

I have visited institutes and other teacher's gatherings outside of our
county, and I believe the conductors will bear me out in making the
statement that there is no class of people more neatly and reasonably
dressed than a class of Onondaga county teachers at their institute.

I have said that teachers should be patterns of promptness. I want to
say just here, that teachers should be patterns of neatness. I have seen
men teachers in their schools with their trowser-legs inside their
rubber-boot tops, while a ridge around the ankle indicated just how deep
they had got into the mud in coming to school.

Good nature is one of the graces that a teacher should possess. A kind
heart, indicated by a radiant face and pleasant voice, will cover many
faults. I know there come times and circumstances in the school-room
when it seems hard, but we do not want to forget that it pays to be
good-natured. Cultivate a kind heart and let kindness mark every step of
your school life. Every teacher of experience can recall times when a
kind word to a pupil gave him courage and ambition such as he had never
felt before, and perhaps changed the whole course of his life.

A boy came into my school at Geddes one morning, ragged, untidy, and
altogether in a sad condition for the school-room. After a little time I
asked him about books, and found he had none. I picked up some books for
him for the day, and at the close of school I had him remain. Some way I
had been drawn toward the boy from my first conversation with him. When
we were alone I sat down close to him, and putting my hand on his
shoulder, said, "Johnny, do you want to learn?"

Tears ran down his cheeks as he said: "Mr. Hooper, I do want to learn;
you don't know how much I want to learn. Will you let me come to your
school?" By this time tears were running down my cheeks, and Johnny and
his teacher had a good crying spell together. He then told me that he
had just come from driving on the canal, and as navigation was about
closing, he was discharged in Syracuse, the captain telling him that he
had no money to pay him at present. Johnny was soon properly clothed and
happy in school.

I will add that two years and a half afterward I went into our coal
office to order some coal, and this same young man took my order. He was
a trusted clerk and earning a good salary.

A few years ago I visited the State prison at Auburn. As the party were
led into a large empty room with windows and doors barred, I saw,
leaning against the door on the opposite side of the room, a young man
dressed in the prison suit. His face was so familiar to me that for a
moment I forgot where I was, and was going to shake hands with him and
say, "How do you do, Frank?" when he shook his head for me not to come.
I saw him as I had seen him sitting before me at the recitation, month
after month for more than two years. As I turned and went up the stairs,
I said to myself, "To what extent am I responsible for the condition of
that young man?"

There graduated from the junior to the senior room with his class, a
young boy whom we called Eugene. He was a favorite with both teachers
and pupils. He was small for his age, then ten. He was just that kind
of boy that everybody loves. He was bright, of a nervous temperament,
perfectly reliable, easy to learn, and full of mischief. Fellow teacher,
did you ever know a temperament such as I have described that was not
mischievous?

In a few days I found he was writing and passing notes to his classmates
in study hours. What was to be done? Shall we punish him? I think I
would not have struck that boy a blow to save my right hand from
destruction. I did as you would have done, kept him and talked with him
alone. Please remember I asked him to make no promises, for I believed
if he did he would break them. Again and again the same thing was
repeated, and again and again we had a talk alone. I had asked for no
pledge that he would discontinue writing notes in study hours and he had
not volunteered to give me one.

Fellow teachers, I come to you for advice. I am in trouble. This little
boy is troubling me and I do not know how to overcome the trouble. My
patience is gone. I worried about it all last night. Is it time to whip
him now? No. I have studied this little boy. I know what his nature is,
and I would not whip him for all the gold in the mines. But what shall
we do? We are driven to the wall. My wisdom is not equal to the task,
but, fellow teacher, as I cannot direct you, I will cite you to three
words, each commencing with P, that will always help you out in every
school emergency: _patience_, _prayer_, and _perseverance_.

It was late in the fall, and on a dark, gloomy day about three o'clock
in the afternoon, I took the little boy by the hand and went down to the
primary room. The children had all gone home. It was dark, gloomy, and
silent as we went into that large room. I sat down on a desk and drawing
him to me and putting my arm around him said, "Eugene, do you not think
I ought to whip you?" Impulsively he put his arm around my neck, and
said "Mr. Hooper, I will be a good boy! I will be a good boy! I won't do
so any more." Tears were running down his cheeks and they were running
down mine as well, and Eugene and his teacher had a cry together. Please
notice he had given me a voluntary pledge, and I knew he would keep it.
I said, it is too lonesome here. Let us go back to the school-room.
During the few weeks that followed I believe that pledge was kept
sacred.

We noticed one morning that Eugene's chair was vacant and we heard that
he was very sick. Each morning as we inquired after him, the report was
that he was not as well, and every evening I called to see him. During
his spells of delirium his school was in his mind. His examinations
seemed to trouble him, and his mother told me he would frequently say he
would not trouble Mr. Hooper any more. Some two weeks after the little
boy's chair was vacant, word came about two o'clock in the afternoon
that Eugene was dying and wanted to see his teacher.

I hastened down to the sick room, and as I sat on that bedside and
looked into that beautiful face, his eyes seemed to be lighted up with
heavenly light. I had never seen them so bright before. Some one said,
he is penetrating the veil; he is looking into the beautiful kingdom. I
said to myself, my dear boy, I never struck you a blow. I never spoke an
ill-natured word to you. I shall meet you before the Great White Throne!

As I sat at my table in the school-room at Baldwinsville at the
beginning of the noon hour, a young girl in passing out to go to her
dinner said to me, "Mr. Hooper, I am afraid I shall not be at school
this afternoon, as I am not feeling well." I said, "Louise, I have
noticed that you do not feel well. Is your school work troubling you?"
She said, "No, I think I will be back to-morrow." In three days Louise
died and we laid her beautiful form in the flower-lined grave in the
cemetery beside the Seneca.

Fellow teacher, have you ever missed a dearly loved pupil from your
school-room? Did you think as you went back and saw the vacant seat,
that but yesterday you, with your remaining pupils, followed that loved
one to the grave and saw them cover him down deep in the ground with the
cold damp earth? Did it make you a better man? A better woman? A better
teacher?

And now, kind readers, my task is done. I have tried so to write up my
little history as that you would be entertained and benefited. With my
seventy-two years experience in life, I find I am inclined gradually to
let go of life here, and take a firmer hold of the life beyond. I am
contemplating with all the power of my imagination, the beauty, the
loveliness, the grandeur, the glory of that life,--of that home. And I
say to myself sometimes, Eugene will be there, Louise will be there,
hundreds of my pupils as precious as they will be there. She whom many
of my readers knew, and who was as precious to me as my own life, will
be there. All of those teachers who have been so kindly associated with
me in the school-room, will be there. And I desire that my mansion be so
large, so broad in its dimensions, that I may invite all of these, and
all of the noble men and women who have so earnestly worked with me in
the schools of Onondaga county, and all my host of friends everywhere,
to come over and make us a visit in our new and beautiful mansion in Our
Father's House.




OTHER STORIES OF SCHOOL LIFE


---- _STANDARD TEACHERS' LIBRARY, NO. 6_ ----


Bardeen's Roderick Hume.

The Story of a New York Teacher. Pp. 319. Cloth, $1.25; manilla, 50 cts.
This is one of the 22 best books for teachers recommended by Chancellor
W. H. Payne in the _New England Journal of Education_ for Nov., 1893. It
is also one of the books described by W. M. Griswold in his "A
Descriptive List of Novels and Tales dealing with American Country
Life."

Roderick Hume took possession of me, and the book was finished in one
sitting that lasted beyond the smallest hour. I have joined the crowd in
your triumphal procession. The characters are as truly painted as any in
Dickens, and the moral is something that cannot be dodged.--Professor
_Edward North_, Hamilton College.

My confinement at home gave me an opportunity to read it carefully,
which I have done with great delight. I can certify that it is true to
life. I have had experience in country and village schools as well as in
the schools of the cities. The picture is true for all of them. I know
too well how self-interest, jealousy, prejudice, and the whole host of
meaner motives are likely to prevail in the management of school affairs
anywhere. That the people should know this and yet entrust the
management of their schools to men who are most likely to be influenced
by personal considerations is strange indeed.--My memory brings to mind
an original for every portrait you have drawn.--_Andrew J. Rickoff_,
former Sup't of Schools, Cleveland, O.

Teachers cannot fail to be greatly benefited by the reading of the book.
Roderick's address to his pupils is a compendium of the best points in
the highest kind of school management. Miss Duzenberrie's victory and
Vic Blarston's closing remarks ought to teach lessons of warning to many
teachers who are even the most in earnest about their work. Mary Lowe is
a beautiful model of a teacher, and no one will be surprised that
Roderick should make her his helpmate instead of his assistant. It is a
capital story, and we recommend it strongly to every Canadian teacher.
Each one should get a copy for himself, as he will wish to read it more
than once.--Inspector _James L. Hughes_, in _Canadian School Journal_.

In the columns of _The Bulletin_, in 1878, appeared a serial story which
attracted the attention of educators in all parts of the country. It was
entitled _Roderick Hume_, and was professedly "the story of a New York
teacher." It was written with the specific view of portraying certain
phases of the modern graded school. The narrative was not designed as a
satire, though a vein of humor ran through it all; nor was it to be
taken as an autobiography, though the author's own experiences were more
or less interwoven with it. The interest of the story increased from
month to month, and widely extended the reputation of _The School
Bulletin_ and its editor. Letters received from all parts of the country
revealed, in fact, a phenomenal interest in its outcome. * * *
Subsequently it appeared in book form, and it has since held a unique
place in American literature.--_The Schoolmaster in Comedy and Satire_,
p. 453.

C. W. BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y.




OPINIONS OF RODERICK HUME

"I got Roderick Hume yesterday. I began it in the afternoon, and
finished it at my office last night at 10 o'clock. It is just like you,
full of your usual candor, fearlessness, and humor. I haven't laughed so
heartily in a good while as I did over your book-fight; and its other
characters are all drawn _ad unguem_. Send me 100 copies, and the bill
with them. I want my teachers, and directors too, to read the most
enjoyable book on education I have ever read."--Sup't _H. C. Missimer_,
Erie, Pa.

"We have just finished Roderick Hume a story of a New York Teacher. We
began after ten o'clock at night expecting to read an hour. But the
story was so life-like, so full of that interest which comes from truth
well portrayed, as to chain us to the end. This book should be in every
library in Arkansas and school children trained to read it."--_Southern
School Journal._

"I did not want to eat or sleep till I had read it all. One of my school
directors picked it up from the table and read a page or two, and
although he is a man who reads but little he begged the loan of it to
read it all. He said it was so applicable to the average school-board. I
shall circulate it through my county, and hope to have all my school
directors read it and apply its teaching."--Sup't _C. W. Foreman_,
Meeker, Colo.

"I took the book up with a cynical smile, expecting to glance through it
to satisfy my conscience and the friend who gave it, and then to lay it
aside, mentally requesting a waiting world to be patient until I should
write _the book_ of our business. But, alas! and alack! I don't think I
will write it. I was surprised, pleased, entertained, and ashamed that I
had not read it before. You certainly know teachers, and have given a
sensible man excellent food for reflection. Those of us who know enough
already, of course to us, it can make little difference. I acknowledge
that I stick in Vanity Fair and read Sentimental Tommy without a smile
or a tear, present or remotely prospective, but I revelled in Roderick
Hume and shall read it again."--_S. B. Gilhuly_, Principal Reading
Academy, Flemington, N. J.

"This is a novel, as the name might indicate, and it possesses the
novelty of having school people, teachers, pupils, and members of boards
for its leading characters. Even the much-maligned school-book agent is
not left out. The action and interest of the story centre in and around
the schools of a New York town, whose superintendent and lady principal
are hero and heroine, and who, like all other sensible heroes and
heroines, fall in love with each other and finally succeed after great
difficulty in getting married, or at least impressing the reader that
they will get married. It is a mighty good story, but its chief merit
lies in the fact that under the guise of a novel the author shows up
many of the weaknesses of our public school system, the foibles of
teachers, the schemes of text-book agents, how politics and religion are
used to hamper and hinder the progress of the schools, etc., etc. It is
fiction with a purpose, and a good purpose too. The writer of this
article picked up the book one evening and became so interested that he
could not lay it aside until finished. Every teacher ought to get it,
and read and re-read it."--_School Record._




---- _STANDARD TEACHERS' LIBRARY, No. 63_ ----


Commissioner Hume

"Mr. Bardeen is a born story-teller, and his Commissioner Hume, a story
of New York schools, abounds in pathos, humor, and fidelity to human
nature. As a type this story ought to be widely read, and if every
school trustee in the land could read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest
its moral, public education in the United States would receive a mighty
uplift. Despite the fact that it is a story with a moral, it is
intensely interesting from the first page to the last. Gottlieb
Krottenthaler is a character that ought to live."--_Educational Review._

"This timely little book is a decided addition to our historical
literature. The author portrays the inner workings of early New York
schools in a book as readable as any novel. Special stress seems to be
laid upon the power of political intriguers to dispense school patronage
among the highest bidders. Even the press is attacked as not always
being that champion of higher education one would expect it to be.
Self-interest, jealousy, prejudice, and the whole host of meaner motives
that prevailed in the management of school affairs were gradually
rendered of small consequence as a result of the determined stand taken
against them by that marvellous man, Commissioner Hume. Truly no book
shows better the good that one man can do, when all his heart and soul
are in his work. There are teachers living to-day who are the
counterpart of the original characters portrayed in this work, who would
do well to read and profit by this delightful story. The moral of the
book cannot be dodged."--_Philadelphia Teacher._

"It is a story of New York country and village schools and county school
administration in 1875. Since, however, human nature and school nature
in New York does not differ much from those of her Southern sisters, and
since the ways of the wily politician of 1899 are pretty much the same
as those of 1875, there is scarcely an incident in the story that might
not have been taken almost literally from the history of school affairs
in Florida last year, and it is a safe assertion to make that there is
not a teacher of any considerable experience in the State but is more or
less intimately acquainted with every character in the book from 'Mute
Herring' and 'Silas Jones' to 'Prof. Slack' and 'Mrs. Arabella----.' As
a piece of fiction, simply, it is a work of art and absorbingly
interesting to the general reader; but it is as a satire, keen and
relentless, on the prevalent evils affecting school management and
administration that it finds its highest value. It is a strong and
wholesome book and should have a prominent place in every teacher's
library and on every school official's desk. It contains more practical
suggestions and hints of value to the ordinary teacher than any half
dozen works on 'methods' with which we are acquainted. There's laughter,
tears, instruction and warning in abundance in it, and few will take it
up but like the writer hereof will hurry on to finish it at a single
sitting, but not so fast, however, that he will not leave on almost
every page some passages pencil-marked for future study and
use."--_Florida School Exponent._

16mo, pp. 210. Manilla 50 cts.; Cloth $1.00




OPINIONS OF COMMISSIONER HUME

"We believe that the conditions it represents have been bettered by more
enlightened educational methods, but politics are still sufficiently
mixed with school questions for us to relish Roderick Hume's experiences
in gaining his election as school commissioner, and the original methods
he adopted in his desire to find out the real character and efficiency
of the schools and teachers under his care."--_The Literary World._

"The features that distinguished the earlier book are present in this
one, and the picture it contains of the rural schools of New York twenty
years ago is valuable as well as interesting. The author's quiet humor,
long experience, and sound sense make this little volume well worth
reading."--_Popular Educator._

"Commissioner Hume, a story of rural New York school life in the
seventies, is a book that will greatly interest teachers. We know of no
work that does more to point out the evils of partisan politics in
matters educational. It is a book one lays down with reluctance and
resumes with avidity. It is a capital work."--_Cincinnati Public School
Journal._

"A unique story, containing not only wit, humor, instruction, and
entertainment to the reader, but considerable educational history. The
characters are all well drawn and represent true life. The story is of
special interest to the teacher, as it gives many points in the highest
kind of school management."--_American School Board Journal._

"The story shows us rural New York in 1875, and especially its ideas and
practices in education. It describes the methods of newspapers,
politicians, ministers, and book agents at that time, and as an
illustration of the schools and methods of teaching it is of rare
interest. The school commissioner who visits the country schools in the
disguise of an ignorant German pedler sees startling conditions of
ignorance, carelessness, and vice. * * * Examinations for teachers were
unheard of, and certificates to teachers were given by caprice. In no
more convincing and entertaining way can one learn about rural schools
of that day than in this story, and we are very glad that Mr. Bardeen
has reprinted it."--_N. E. Journal of Education._

"Mr. Bardeen certainly knows all about the failings of our present
school commissioner system and he has written a story that is replete
with many truthful comments. The story in many particulars is highly
amusing, particularly those chapters leading from the preliminaries to
the nominating convention through the candidate's experience's in the
campaign for election. But it is quite true to nature and we know it is
almost an exact reproduction of the experiences of numberless candidates
for school commissioner throughout the State. Mr. Bardeen's commissioner
in the concluding chapters of the story is disguised as a German pedler
who knows more about good school methods than various teachers of the
commissioner district. Mr. Bardeen has so completely disguised the
character that the reader wonders what has become of Commissioner Hume
till the last chapter is reached. The book is something of a severe but
clever satire of the state school commissioner question and may do a lot
of good toward improving present conditions. One thing is sure, however,
and that is that it is a very readable story."--_Schenectady Union._




---- _THE STANDARD TEACHERS' LIBRARY, No. 61._ ----


Nicholas Comenius.

As Roderick Hume is a picture of the New York school principal of 1870,
so Nicholas Comenius is a picture of the Pennsylvania schoolmaster of
1860, when new ideas of educational methods began to come into conflict
with the old. It is a vivid portrayal of the schools, the teachers and
school-officers, the institutes, the book-agents, and all the
educational features of that period, and deserves a place in every
collection of books on education.

     _From the Governor of Pennsylvania, Daniel H. Hastings._

"For the last few nights the disturbances in Luzerne county have
compelled me, together with General Snowden, Adjutant General Stewart,
and the Attorney General, to be in almost constant communication with
our troops at Hazleton; and while sitting about the telephone and
telegraph for two nights, the intervals have been occupied in reading
'Nicholas Comenius.' During that time I read every chapter aloud to my
comrades, and we unanimously agreed that I should write you this letter
of thanks for such an interesting and delightful contribution to our
Pennsylvania literature. I have always thought the 'Vicar of Wakefield'
the most charming book in our language. I now think your book comes very
close to it."

     _From the State Superintendent of Pennsylvania, N. C. Schaeffer._

"Many books are made of nothing and for nothing and get nowhere. The
book here presented is not of that class. In my judgment it is a
valuable contribution to our educational literature.... The author of
Nicholas Comenius deserves the special gratitude of those who feel an
interest in rescuing from oblivion the factors that gave us our
beneficent system of Common Schools."

     _From the Deputy State Superintendent of Pennsylvania, Henry Houck._

"Nicholas Comenius is one of the most interesting books I ever read. It
is written in charming style, eloquent and tender in the tribute it pays
to the pioneers in the cause of education, and yet full of encouragement
and inspiration for every teacher. This book should be in every library
and every home."

     _From the School Gazette, Harrisburg, Pa._

"Nicholas Comenius, or Ye Pennsylvania Schoolmaster of Ye Olden Time, by
William Riddle, of Lancaster, Pa., is the latest addition to educational
fiction. While it is being sold with such books as the Hoosier
Schoolmaster and Roderick Hume, it is being compared to the Vicar of
Wakefield and to the schoolmaster of Drumtochty in the Bonnie Brier
Bush.... The volume has in it wit, humor, instruction and entertainment.
Its illustrations are as expressive as those of an illustrated volume of
Dickens, and there is as much flavor in it as in Roderick Hume, and as
much substance as in the Evolution of Dodd."

16mo, pp. 492; 42 Illustrations. Manilla 50 cts; Cloth, $1.50.

C. W. BARDEEN, Publisher, Syracuse, N. Y.




OPINIONS OF NICHOLAS COMENIUS

     _From County Superintendent M. J. Brecht._

"The book is written in the form of a story and through the medium of a
strong cast of characters--some historical and others of the author's
own creation, but typical of the period in which they lived--it pictures
reminiscences, narrates incidents, describes events, and delineates
conditions of the fight for Free Schools in Pennsylvania that should be
read and read again by every one who is interested in the growth and
expansion of our Common School system. While the work is largely
historical, giving the reader clear and well-defined views of the great
epochs which work the transitional stages in the evolution of our school
system, the author carries forward in a parallel line with the
historical past, a series of sage pedagogical comments that are radiant
with good sense, and are sure to give the book a rating among the
world's works upon pedagogical literature. The teacher will find its
pages suggestive of much that will come directly into play in solving
the daily issues of the school room, and suggestive of more upon broad
professional lines that will enrich his knowledge of child-nature and
psychology, enlarge his sense of personal responsibility to his
profession, and inspire him to read up with some degree of enthusiasm
and purpose the history and science of education. In my judgment, every
teacher should make it a point to read the book."

     _From Superintendent Edward Brooks, Philadelphia._

"The book is unique, and without a parallel in educational literature.
One begins to read it with surprise and a feeling of wonder to know the
exact purpose of the author; but after reading a chapter or two he
catches the drift of the work and begins to enjoy it. Beneath the stream
of grave and dignified humor, there will be found many interesting
historic facts and much suggestive thought in respect to educational
doctrine and practice. The work is a valuable contribution to
educational literature, and no educational library may be regarded as
complete without a copy of it. I have placed Nicholas Comenius in the
Pedagogical Library belonging to the Department of Superintendence."

     _From Superintendent R. L. Edwards, Portland, Oregon._

"After the receipt of your book, for which find enclosed $1.50, I opened
up a subscription list and have so far twenty-two signatures. If you
will send me forty copies I will take pleasure in placing them."

     _From the Harrisburg Telegraph._

"Mr. Riddle has made a departure on a new line which promises to be a
success. There is not a dull chapter in the book. The one devoted to the
history of the free school fight throws bright light on those days and
increases our admiration for the great men who did that pioneer work....
The characters are all marked personalities, and the author makes them
live--we feel acquainted with them, and are sorry to bid them good-bye.
The book is just out of press, and the few who have had the chance to
read it are unanimous in its praise. Teachers especially will find both
entertainment and instructive suggestion in its pages. We can recommend
it unreservedly to all readers, especially to those who are connected
with educational work."




---- _THE SCHOOL BULLETIN PUBLICATIONS_ ----


Anecdotes and Humors of School Life

No department of human employment or effort, perhaps, is more rich in
anecdote and incident than the school-room, and in none certainly can
judiciously chosen illustrations be more effectively used. The present
volume by a well-known Pennsylvania superintendent, Aaron Sheely, is
therefore offered to teachers and students in the hope that its many
illustrative examples may be useful in helping to enforce and impress
the daily lessons of the school-room, and as a respite from severe
school work.

Many teachers have found it an admirable exercise to read a short story,
like many of those here given, and ask for comments on the part of the
school. To give a single illustration, a teacher read to a grammar grade
the story of "Diluted Milk", on page 90.

"Now, children," she said, as a smile passed around, "what is the point
of this story?"

"Please Miss----," said a little girl eagerly, "I think it is that if
you cheat you are sure to get caught."

"_I_ think the point lies in the 'sagacious'," suggested one of the
boys.

"How is that?"

"Why, he asked about whether it was warm water or cold, as if there
wasn't any doubt that it was water of some kind, and so the carrier-boy
answered before he thought."

Thus the conversation went on for ten minutes, branching off on whether
college-boys would like to live that way now, whether the hard life some
of them used to live made them better scholars, whether education was
worth so much sacrifice, whether "devour" was a wholly proper word to
use of eating bread and milk, and so on. Perhaps no class-exercise of
the day was more thoroughly profitable.

"The collection is singularly rich and varied, and the volume is a
worthy contribution to the literature of anecdote."--_N. Y. Evening
Post._

"Here we have brief incident, lively anecdote, and the flash of wit in
keen repartee. The articles are of necessity brief, varying in length
from a few lines to one or two pages. The reader familiar with books and
current literature will find many things that he has seen before, but,
we think, still more that he has never seen. He will probably sit down,
as the writer has done, turning the leaves and laughing over old things
and new, until--to his surprise--the evening is gone. This
compilation--which is the only one of its kind we know of--is worthy a
favorite place in the library of the teacher, or the general
reader."--_Pennsylvania School Journal._

"This collection of anecdotes, grave, humorous, and witty, is the most
complete and interesting compilation of its kind it has ever been our
good fortune to examine. Mr. Sheely, with rare good taste, has selected
some of the most side-splitting stories we have ever read, interspersed
with many of a more serious turn, so that both teacher and scholar may
find profit and amusement in this volume. A strong, healthful moral tone
pervades it, and it affords pleasant recreation for leisure
moments."--_Bentley's Book Buyer._

Cloth, 12mo., pp. 350. $1.50




[The end of _Three Score and Ten in Retrospect_ by James W. Hooper]
