Jht RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
1025 
Reflections of an Old School 
Teacher 
All the colors are in the rainbow; in 
fact, they are all in a ray of pure sun¬ 
light, but one gifted with the power can 
fake a bit of one color here, another 
there, combine two or more, and by skill¬ 
ful blending of all in varying forms pro¬ 
duce a wonderful picture which can thrill 
our souls with its appeal to bur sense of 
the beautiful, or stir our hearts with 
memories, or turn our thoughts to higher 
things. 
Likewise all the words are in the dic- 
tionary, and only 26 letters are used to 
form them. They are there for any of us 
to choose and use, but to a few it is 
given to choose such words and place 
them in such relation to each other as to 
form a deathless poem or a classic phrase 
—and sometimes 'a thoughless combina¬ 
tion may bring its originator wealth if not 
fame; even a witless assertion about the 
lack of a certain tropical fruit. There are 
certain words which seem to come into 
fashion like a style of dressing the hair 
or the shape of a woman’s sleeve, which 
are used till worn threadbare and then 
cast aside to give place to something new. 
Constructive criticism are two such 
■words which, joined together, have been 
used as a weapon of offense and hurled at 
me because of what I have >said about 
modern teachers and other things pertain¬ 
ing to the schools. When they tell me 
that I offer no constructive criticism, they 
mean, I suppose, that I do not suggest a 
remedy for the conditions I presume to 
find not to my liking. Frankly, I’ll admit 
that I don’t know what to say. The news¬ 
papers report—I always take newspaper 
stories with a grain of salt, but I hope 
this needs none—that the dean of women 
of the University of Michigan, in a recent 
address at Grand Rapids, said : 
“The real source of the faults of the 
educational system today is the great 
number of half-baked, half-educated teach¬ 
ers who are teaching only because they 
think teaching is the easiest way for them 
to earn a living.” 
iShe is further quoted as saying that 
she would flunk half of the present-day 
instructors in the public schools as unfit 
for their pi’ofession. “I would do this,” 
she said, “because of their lack of educa¬ 
tion or their lack of interest.” 
It is said that she spoke these words 
with sufficient warmth to finish baking a 
number of the half-baked ones. Anyway, 
I hope she said them, for they are just 
made compulsory, and, as always, not be¬ 
ing unattainable, it somehow ceases to be 
so desirable. Study your tax bill—you 
will more than likely find that the largest 
single item is the school tax. We want 
our children to have the best in educa¬ 
tion, but who shall say what is the best? 
Our ancestors were so hedged about by 
laws and hampered in thought and action 
that they sought freedom in a new land. 
In the course of 300 years such a strue- 
ture of legislation has been built up about 
us that even the training of our own chil¬ 
dren is so remote and shut away from us 
that many of us are content to indulge in 
the two great American pastimes of 
“passing the buck” and “letting George 
do it.” That is why school meetings are 
not attended, but, as a former correspond¬ 
ent said. “Of course the children will get 
their education some way.” 
Teaching at best is a wearing, nerve- 
racking, thankless task, which may ex¬ 
plain why so few undertake it as a life 
work. It used to be a dignified profes¬ 
sion, but now we find many girls almost 
apologizing for their entrance into the 
work and hastening to acquire their trous¬ 
seau that they may leave it as soon as 
po ssible. What are we going to do about 
it. I don’t know. Stand on the side 
lines and “knock,” probably. We can’t do 
much when we get notice from a flippant 
school nurse that Johnny, who has had 
no tonsils for five years, must have his 
foolish to sell their home if they could 
possibly hang on to it; that $100,000 
Wouldn’t buy my farm. He fairly jumped. 
“It ain’t worth no such money,” he said. 
Then he turned and looked off across the 
valley and lake at one of the most mag¬ 
nificent and “friendly” views on earth. 
After a while he said, slowly : “I’ll nev¬ 
er sell my farm.” 
I am glad lie is staying near us. He is 
a good oak, with roots deep in the soil ; 
not a hemlock, to be blown out by the 
first little blast of adversity. And I’m 
glad he has learned that this part of the 
country produces crops which, having no 
cash value, are more desirable than 
money. r. 
Yates Co., N. Y. 
Picnic in the Woods 
Attracted by the big posters the boys 
and I went to the circus the other day. 
It was a very good circus as circuses go, 
but I could not help thinking what a con¬ 
trast to some of our afternoon trips. Of 
course we saw the animals that we had 
been reading of, and as we do not live 
near a zoo that was fine for the boys. 
But that is the only good word I have 
for the afternoon. We were packed in 
as closely as we could sit on the little 
narrow seats, under a canvas tent that 
reflected the heat of the sun on our heads, 
and made us most uncomfortable. It 
made me long for the coolness of the pines 
where we often go with our lunch and 
spend on hour or two. 
It seems to me that country people 
have been making a big mistake in look- 
dict ionary been gifted with" the ?. h f P^ure shows Fred Hooper, with his trailer, helping the postmaster at Park 
the right combinations * ac ge ,’ dehver parcel post mail packages. Considerable farm produce is sent by 
me gnt o d to parcel post into this town of 6,000 inhabitants from the outlying country districts. 
ability to choose the right 
of letters to make my meaning plain. 
Not long ago I visited in a family where 
one of the teachers boards. A young 
member of the household was perusing a 
geography with great interest, at least 
in the pictures. Frequent questions were 
asked to supplement the titles beneath 
the pictures. Finally the question was, 
“What does truck gardening mean?” The 
teacher hesitated for an instant and then 
assured the child that it meant that they 
raised vegetables in trucks because the 
ground was too wet! 
My mother has always been a student 
of the life of Napolon. At one time she 
was caring for a dependent girl, and had 
the local teacher in her family for a time. 
One evening the girl looked up from her 
reading with the question : “It says, ‘He 
met his Waterloo.’ What does it mean?” 
Mother began by explaining that it was 
at Waterloo that Napoleon met final de¬ 
feat, when the teacher, with a superior 
air, interrupted: “Are you sure about 
that? It doesn’t seem to me that Na¬ 
poleon was in that war.” 
A digression might be made here to 
speak of the apparent belief of the pres¬ 
ent day young flapper-teacher, that all 
knowledge is denied a person with gray¬ 
ing hair and is stored under her fluffy 
top-knot. We recall our own early train¬ 
ing in rspect and deference to our elders. 
Dean Hamilton says that the faults of 
our educational system have their source 
in the kind of teachers employed, but it 
seems to me there is a more remote 
source. It appears to be a sort of 
“House that Jack Built.” In the old 
days an education was something to be 
struggled for—even fought to attain. 
There was a time when only the rich who 
could hire tutors for their children could 
hope to educate their families. Then 
schooling was desirable but usually unat¬ 
tainable. Later came the happy thought 
of combining the children of a neighbor¬ 
hood under one instructor and all “chip¬ 
ped in” to pay him—-or at least all prop¬ 
erty owners did—for that is what it 
amounted to when a percentage of each 
man’s tax is used for the support of 
schools. Gradually customs changed, 
laws and more laws were made control¬ 
ling schools and school matters, more and 
more the affairs of the school have been 
taken out of our direct control, till we 
forget that the teacher is one of our hired 
servants, and if there were no public 
schools we would each be obliged to em¬ 
ploy a private teacher or let our children 
go untaught. Moreover, schooling (as it 
is called) is now not a thing to be sought 
and struggled for, it is thrust upon us— 
tonsils out at once if he is to continue his 
work in school; or that Mary, who is go¬ 
ing to the dentist weekly, must have her 
teeth attended in order that she may do 
better work in school. But when Susie 
comes home and tells that the cooking 
teacher had them pour a pitcher of cream 
down the sink because it would sour be¬ 
fore next lesson, we can “do it ourselvess” 
and teach her what good things can be 
made of it when it is sour. 
As for the teachers coming from nor¬ 
mal schools and colleges half-baked and 
half-educated, the colleges say it is be¬ 
cause of lack of preparedness in the high 
school, file high school blames it on the 
grades, and the grades say that the kin¬ 
dergarten fails to lay a proper founda¬ 
tion, but the kindergarten resents this 
and says the trouble is in the home, and 
•they say that when mother hears this she 
says, “Well, what can you expect when 
you look at my husband’s folks?” Still 
passing the buck, don’t you see? Can 
anyone put a finger on the real source of 
the trouble? For we all have to admit 
that there is trouble somewhere, and 
much of it is due to lack of active inter¬ 
est_ and action on the part of individual 
citizens. transplanted. 
More Desirable Than Money 
I enjoyed your “Lilacs,” particularly 
the ending, with its supposition that noth¬ 
ing good and beautiful is a loss. It gives 
me a sinking sensation to drive by coun¬ 
try houses with not a tree or bush near 
them to temper the heat or cold. And I 
like to hear the Hope Farmer tell about 
sitting on the big rock. It would be very 
profitable to most of us to spend a while 
each day just like that. I am sure a fine 
crop of sunsets have been harvested from 
that rock, and I’d like to know how the 
Hope Farmer uses them after they are 
garnered. Every morning when I come 
down stairs I see through our front door, 
the hills across the lake greeting the ris¬ 
ing sun, and at evening in the Summer I 
sit on the porch to see the shadows 
lengthen on the hills to the south and 
east, while the color turns from red to 
purple. I think I sleep better after an 
hour of sunset. It renews my desire to 
stay here always, to be carried out of the 
same front door, as my fathers were. 
One of my tenants has made enough to 
get possession of 65 acres of land on a 
$20,000 contract. He and I are the only 
people who expect him to pay for it. In 
talking about it I said the owners were 
ing to the city for so many of their 
pleasures, and not teaching their chil¬ 
dren to love the country and find pleas¬ 
ure there. When my city friends visit 
me they often tell me that they envy me 
the view from my back door. We have 
not cut down our woods as so many peo¬ 
ple have, and can see a broad half circle 
of beautiful trees about an eighth of a 
pile from the house. It is ever changing 
in its shades and colors, and always 
seems to be inviting us to come out and 
play awhile. There are pines and elms, 
maples and all kinds of trees with sev¬ 
eral very tall pines which can be seen 
for many miles. The sunsets are beau¬ 
tiful back of our woods and the sunrise 
is even more lovely, for it lights up all 
the little trees, the meadows and the 
creek in the foreground. When the chil¬ 
dren were smaller I began to call their 
attention to the beauties of nature, and 
now they come and call me to see the sun¬ 
set, the^ rainbow or the grand old full 
moon. They bring me in flowers from the 
fields and we find any flower is beautiful 
if you look at it closely. 
The eight-year-old jumps for joy when 
he hears that we have planned a picnic 
in the woods with the city cousins.; the 
older boy is on hand and father comes 
out for supper. A picnic with us does 
not mean anything much in the way of 
work. We just pick up whatever we 
can easily, plenty of rolls or sandwiches, 
some cookies or doughnuts, and with a 
pot of coffee for the grown-ups and lemon¬ 
ade for the children we have a feast. We 
divide up the luggage and each one car¬ 
ries a share. 
As soon as we come in sight of the 
pines the children run on ahead and pick 
out a good bough for a swing. Did you 
ever sit on a big branch of a pine tree 
and have some one swing you by taking 
hold of the end of it and pulling it up 
and down? It beats the “ocean wave” 
and the “merry-go-round,” and all it 
costs is a little labor on the part of 
mother. It is good exercise for her, as 
she is inclined to be stout, and for 
mother it beats the “daily dozen.” The 
ground is all covered with dry pine 
needles and after the swing is over we sit 
down for a rest and to get our breath. 
The children are off to gather cones, 
partridge myrtle, ferns and moss or, if 
it is Fall, the lovely Autumn leaves. The 
big boy has brought his gun and has 
gone to the back of the woods to scare 
up a partridge or a rabbit. Soon the 
children are back demanding another 
swing, and we set them gathering wood 
for the fire. The cones they have gath¬ 
ered burn well and make a sweet-smell¬ 
ing smoke that is better than incense. 
We get our fireplace made and the coffee 
and the frying-pan with the weinies or 
bacon on, for we see father coming with a 
pail of water for the lemonade. Everyone 
has a good appetite after the walk and 
the exercise, and we all do justice to the 
simple food. The evening chores are to 
be done, so father and the big boy go on 
home, taking the cows with them, and the 
rest of us follow more slowly. Little 
John, the four-year-old. likes to jump 
from one hummock to the next in the 
pasture, and though he sometimes falls 
lie is up and away again. By the time 
we reach the house lie is tired, and gen¬ 
erally goes fast asleep on the way home 
to the city. 
In the Fall we go to the woods and 
gather nuts for Winter and on Thanks¬ 
giving Day. after our dinner of turkey 
and pumpkin pie, we go and get a 
y hristmas tree for each family. A tree 
is much more interesting if you have 
helped cut it and carry it home. 
Then in Winter, when father is get¬ 
ting up the year’s wood on the big 
sleighs, there is a chance for a ride to 
the woods. We do not fear any coal fam- 
ine as long as we have our woodpile. 
W hat would the country be without the 
trees, so beautiful and so useful in many 
ways? Perhaps you may not enjoy go¬ 
ing on a picnic just as we do, but perhaps 
you can take the horse or the car and go 
to the river or the lake with the boys and 
giils some day. Of course it will be some 
trouble, but it pays. Does thf> boy have 
a horse to ride? Do you help the girl 
with her flower bed so that the hens will 
not destroy it? Have the little folks a 
swing, and are they allowed to keep pets? 
Do you take magazines that the young 
people will enjoy reading, and get books 
from the library for them? All these 
things are worth considering if we are 
going to make our young people love to 
live in the country. 
If we older ones do not. find pleasure 
theie, but rush to the city for it, we can¬ 
not but expect that the young folks will 
follow our example. It is up to us to pro- 
v>de wholesome entertainment for our 
children, and lead them to believe that 
their country home is the best place in 
i o ., wor l fl - Take an interest in your 
child s play and continue to do so as he 
grows older. It will keep you young and 
help him, for you know that “all work 
and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Do 
not say you haven’t time. I have no 
rtoubt that you are taking time for some 
unnecessary piece of work that could be 
let go. If you have not the habit of ob¬ 
serving the beauties of the world around 
you, begin now Do not grumble over the 
weather Let s from a Boosters’ Club and 
boost the country as a good place to 
me, a good place to work and a good 
Place to play. mrs. Charles mc Arthur. 
►St. Lawrence Co., N. Y. 
Paying Board for a Boy 
My wife let our boy, seven years old 
board with aunt during three 
go to 
months in 1021; the boy helped with hay¬ 
ing, chores, etc., and at odd times he has 
b . een , ? sked t( > vlHit « day lor so since, and 
about a suit if I did not see him and set¬ 
tle soon, and now the treasurer shows 
me attachment papers ($200) on my sal¬ 
ary (paid 1st to 15th). Can uncle and 
aunt work a boy seven years and collect 
board for him aleo? Wlmt percentage of 
salary does attachment hold up, in case 
of wife and three children? What is ad¬ 
visable for me to do? r. Ir . 
Massachusetts. 
Strange as it will seem to many of our 
readers, we have dozens of family troubles 
like the above submitted to us. The only 
reason for noticing them publicly is to 
try to make it clear that no outsider can 
settle such thing**. In this case we advise 
consulting some local attorney, and let 
him find out if this garnishee is valid. It 
does not seem likely that a boy of seven 
years can work enough to pay for his 
board. The statement seems to imply that 
when the boy first went to the aunt some 
payment was expected. It would be in¬ 
teresting to know what the aunt has to 
say about it. Some sort of bargain should 
always be made in such cases. 
Removing Lime from 
Teakettle 
If G. A. T., page 869, will boil rain¬ 
water in her teakettle once or twice a 
week, it will eliminate all further trouble 
with lime in her new kettle, and is much 
easier than using vinegar, mrs. l. m. a. 
“Gracious!” exclaimed mother, “what 
is that noise?” “Oh, that’s nothing but 
a cow mooing, trying to sell her milk,” 
said Barbara.—Boston Transcript. 
