Thanks to Arlene Goodwin we are submitting to you a poem on the Spencerville School. This
is in keeping with our promise to periodically bring some interesting tidbits to you.
THE OLD SPENCERVILLE SCHOOL
Composed by A. R. Wyatt, M. D.
Fort Wayne, Indiana
I am dreaming today of the Spencerville School
As it was in seventy-four,
When we were young and happy
With our life work all before.
David Allen was our teacher
And certainly was fine.
But it took all his ingenuity
To keep his class in line
We loved, we quarreled, we loved again
And sometimes even swore.
But when it came to the essential things of life
We were loyal to the core.
There were so many of us.
That when we met for morning prayers
A goodly number had to sit.
Upon the school house stairs.
There were Bishops and Murrays and Ericks,
There were Herricks and Emanuels all
There were Tyndalls and Zimmermans and Rummels
And also Doral Hall.
There were Scotts and Olds� and Hendersons,
Millie Sigler and Irena Partee,
There were Blakes and Carnses and Kinseys,
And also Lizzie Gee.
The Slillings came over from Concord,
And Frank Scholes from Coburn Town,
Frank Walter came from Springfield
And Will Shatto from Hudson came down,
The Walkers came over the river
And the Beamses from the County Line,
The Shutts and Murphys and all the rest
Were usually there on time.
There was a Cook to cook our breakfast
There were Bears to hug us tight,
There were Horns to call to dinner
And a Silberg that would fight.
One morning after a nasty quarrel
Steve hit me on the nose,
He scratched my face and blacked my eye
And badly mussed my clothes.
The teacher kept us after school
And urged a compromise.
So we shook hands and were friends again,
But told no more big lies.
Poor Steve is dead and can not tell
His side of this affair,
But I know it can all be verified
By my old friend, L. L. Bair.
Lem Bair was my seatmate,
And a loyal friend was he.
And we were always busy
As busy as could be.
We always had our lessons,
And one time we used a key.
Our classmates looked in wonder,
But the trick they did not see.
We courted the girls together,
As you may surmise,
But always tried to get back home
Before the sun would rise.
We had not automobiles
We had no areoplanes,
So we trusted to old Dobbin
To guides us through the lanes,
Old Dobbin was so gentle
When we needed one more hand,
We wrapped the lines around the whip,
We knew he�d understand.
We did not have a typewriter
And we had no telephone,
But the sentiments we expressed with pen and ink
Were very sweet in tone.
And as I look around me
I am constrained to say,
That the results were just as satisfying
As they are today.
Oh, we had a wonderful school
In eighteen seventy-four.
When were young and happy
And with our life work all before.
We think of those days with pleasure
We remember them also with pain,
When we know they have passed forever
And can never return again.
Many have passed over the river
And others are far away
But we are thankful for the very few
Who are meeting here today.
Oh, I long to return to the school on the hill
And meet my old schoolmates once more,
And say hello and how are you.
As we did in seventy-four.
And drink my fill from the old school well
And sing and play for awhile.
But alas I know this can never be
So I sit and dream and smile.
---------------------------------
Do You Yahoo!?
Send online invitations with Yahoo! Invites.