408 STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



and pure, where there is room enough so that not more than 40 children shall 

 be placed in one apartment. Then, and not till then, will we cease to hear of 

 teachers giving out in their work, dying because of bad air; or of little chil- 

 dren who dislike school, and grow pale and weary, and oftentimes sick with the 

 confinement. 



My model school-house shall not be built on a hill. To be sure, a large, hand- 

 some building shows off to good advantage on a high summit, and when we poor 

 teachers have time or breath we love to look out on the panorama daily spread 

 before us — the city, the river, the hills beyond — beautiful in the leafy verdure 

 of June, glorious with the varied tints and royal colors of autumn, or grander 

 still in its solemn silence when standing afar off from its noise and bustle, we 

 behold it wrapped in the snowy mantle of winter, glittering with thousands of 

 icy diamonds, while over all, the deep blue sky bends, and the sunset clouds 

 light it up with wondrous glory. 



But life is real, life is earnest. Work awaits us, and moments are precious. 

 You enjoy views from your lofty observatory when you have leisure, but you 

 hardly wish your kitchen to be as lofty because of the view. And so I do not 

 wish our teachers to become so tired in climbing steep ascents before the real 

 work of the day commences that they shall have no strength left therefor. 

 Neither do I like to see a troop of children at the foot of a hill start at the first 

 sound of the last bell and run up the ascent, and then up the long flights of 

 steps which await them. So, neither would I have my model school-house 

 more than two stories high, and I should ever hope to be allowed to remain at 

 the foot of the stairs and enjoy the first floor. 



As this subject has been discussed at length, I will state the experience of a 

 day, which does not differ materially from the 200 other days of the school 

 year. In order to reach my room I have thirty steps to climb in the morning. 

 I commence my school work before nine o'clock; but in the midst of writing 

 a problem on the blackboard, I am summoned, to the door below to see a 

 woman who wishes to know why her child can't be let alone, and not teased 

 when on its way home from school by Billy O'Flannigan, and Bridget, his 

 sister. I go down and up my 30 steps again, and finish my problem, and then 

 see that it is time to ring the nine o'clock bell; whereupon I go up and down 

 my 30 steps again. Before recess in the forenoon I have to go down and up 

 my 30 steps again to see to a street boy who will persist in blowing his whistle 

 and shouting under our windows. After recess, I sit down to show a pupil 

 how to subtract 329 from 432, and just as I am in the midst of my explana- 

 tion, just as I see a gleam of understanding in the upturned face of the child, 

 in comes a breathless messenger from the play-ground telling me that Mickey 

 O'Healy is pounding Johannes De G-lopper awfully; and rushing down my 30 

 steps I settle the difficulty between Ireland and Holland, and sitting down on 

 the lower step, send for my bell, and wait for the close of recess, so as to avoid 

 climbing those steps again. Before noon I am obliged to go down once, 

 because Jimmy can't find his hat, and is in dire trouble, and then at noon I 

 have to leave my dinner and my work twice before I ring my bell, to attend to 

 the wants of the little army on the play-ground. 



Well, the bell is rung, and I have had an hour and a half of rest. Every- 

 thing goes on smoothly until ten minutes before recess: Nellie comes, with a 

 pale face, saying that Katie has just got hurt, is most killed, for her face is 

 bleeding dreadfully; and I hasten down, to see the woe-gone face, with its 

 cut lip and tearful eyes and swollen nose; I soothe and wash the little one and 

 send her home, then go up and dismiss my class, and then go down and up 



