Union City Times-Gazette, June 17, 1940
An Old-Time School - Do You Remember? -- by Philip Kabel, Winchester
Very proud indeed was any pioneer neighborhood of its first little log
school-house. To this little shrine of learning in the wilderness the
pioneer children wended their way along the blazed paths through the
woods in all sorts of weather. The little girls dressed in their
"linsey-woolsey" dresses, made with long, straight skirts, with short,
plain waists and straight sleeves, gathered into bands at the wrists.
In the summer time they wore their little home-made sunbonnets and
went with bare feet. In winter time they wore woolen hoods knit by
mother or an older sister, and coarse leather shoes made by some pioneer
shoe-maker, or perchance by the father.
The boys wore home-spun, home-woven jeans trousers and coats, made
after the pattern of their fathers, or older brothers; with "gallowses"
knitted of home-spun yarn, crossed in the back and fastened to the
trousers with wooden pegs or wooden buttons, also made by some member of
the family. On their heads they wore coon-skin caps, and carried their
dinners in splint or willow baskets, made at night by father by the
light from the burning logs in the old fireplace. Quaint little pioneer
men and women were they, starting out to gain that knowledge which was
to help them solve some of the problems of life which were soon to be met.
It was no easy matter for a boy or girl to trudge three or four miles,
over ice and snow, following the blazed path through the unbroken
forest; crossing streams over which there were no bridges except a
"foot-log" or tree felled across the stream. Sometimes, in rainy
seasons, the water rose so high that the log was swept away, and for
days, perhaps, some of the children could not reach the school.
But these pioneer children had their times of pleasure. There were
the pleasant days of spring and summer when the walk through the woods
was a constant delight. Through winding paths these boys and girls
would stroll, with the green branches of the trees forming a canopy over
their heads, the many beautiful, fragrant flowers blooming at their
feet, while birds of many colors flitted from branch to branch their
sweet songs filling the air. All the way was made charming and all the
time was a delight.
Schools were not then regulated by law, there being no compulsory
attendance law or uniform course of study. A subscription paper,
stating the price of tuition per scholar for the time proposed, usually
a dollar or a dollar and a half per pupil, was circulated, and each
person affixed to his name the number of scholars he would send. If a
sufficient number were obtained, the school would commence. Teachers
were often paid in produce, many of the patrons being unable to pay in
money.
The usual school months were December, January and February, but at
times summer schools lasting eight or ten weeks were held. In some
localities school lasted only about three hours a day in order that
those living long distances from the school might reach home before dark.
The teacher would sometimes "board around" at the homes of the pupils,
staying a week or more at a place. Especially was this the case in
summer schools, often taught by young women.
In many of these early schools the only qualifications necessary for a
school teacher were to be able to read fluently, spell correctly and to
know the multiplication tables up to "the threes." Another
qualification sometimes required was that the teacher be proficient with
a pocket-knife in order that he might be able to make and repair goose
quill pens. {This is why a common pocket knife is sometimes called a
"pen knife.")
In some of the schools, called "loud schools," the method of study was
for each pupil to spell or read aloud, and if, by chance, there was
silence for a moment, the teacher thought there was something wrong, and
would shout: "To your books!" and the noise began louder than before,
the pupils making the most noise was assumed to be studying the best.
The school books used in these early schools were of a miscellaneous
character; each child brought what happened to be in the family, usually
the New Testament, Murray's English Reader, Webster's Spelling Book and
an arithmetic. Later on McGuffey's Readers and Spelling Book and Ray's
Arithmetic were found in many of the schools.
(It is interesting that McGuffey and Ray were born only a few miles
apart; McGuffey in Pennsylvania and Ray in West Virginia.)
Only the simpler parts of arithmetic were taught by most of the
teachers; and the mathematical ambition of many pupils was satisfied
when they could "syfer" to the end of the "Single Rule of Three,"
which,
in the old arithmetics, came before Fractions. Nor were they taught
arithmetic in classes. They got attention and assistance of the teacher
as they could.
Voices were heard from different parts of the room: "Master, I can't
do this sum," or "Please show me how to do this sum."
(Have before me John A. Talbott's arithmetic published more than a
century ago in which some of the subjects taught are "Barter, Tare and
Trot, Vulgar Fractions, Fellowship and Rule of Three.")
The usual way of conducting a recitation in spelling was for all who
could spell to form a line around the wall, and the teacher would
pronounce a word to the one standing at the head of the class and so on
down the line. When a word was misspelled it was given to the next in
line and so on until some one spelled it correctly, the one doing so
taking his place in line just above the one who first misspelled it.
The one who stood at the head of the class when the recitation was over
had won a "head-mark," and would take his place at the foot of the class
next day. Before breaking line each would take a number corresponding
to his position in line, the one next the head calling out "one," the
next "two" and so on until each had a number, so that he might know his
proper place in the line next day.
Sometimes on Friday afternoon, after intermission, they would chose
sides and spell against each other.
A leader would be chosen for each side and each of those would take
his turn in choosing others for his side. Then the two sides stood on
opposite sides of the room. The teacher would pronounce a word to one
side and then the other. In case a pupil on one side missed a word it
was pronounced to the next in order on the other side. This was
continued until all the pupils on one side had been spelled down. The
side having some one standing had won the spelling match.
Sometimes there were spelling matches between two rival schools or
neighborhoods. Then the excitement ran high. People came for miles, in
bob-sleds drawn, not by fleet-footed steeds to the music of jingling
sleigh-bells, but by patient mild-eyed oxen, or plodding work-horses,
with perhaps a cow-bell to keep time to their slow footsteps.
There were merry times in the olden days, in spite of hardships and
inconveniences.
Then there was no "z" in our alphabet. What we now call "z" was
then
called "izzard." In spelling "buzz" they would say
b--u--double-izzard---"buzz." "Buzzard" was spelled
b--u--izzard--izzard-a-r-d---"buzzard." The Greek student says "from
Alpha to Omega," meaning from the beginning to the end. The early
settler said "from A to Izzard," meaning the same.
They often repeated syllables; as "re-li-ance" was spelled,
re-"re"-li-"li" -reli-ance-"ance"-reliance. This became a
tangled
process when "incompatibility" was spelled. (Just try it.)
Writing, in some schools, was not required to be done at any fixed
hour, nor by all at the same time. When the writing hour came, those
who wrote took seats on the bench by the long writing table under the
window and followed the copy "set" by the "master" on paper or in the
copy book, maxims being frequently used. During a cold day the ink
would often freeze in the pen before a line could be written. (The ink
was sometimes made of poke berry juice or the juice squeezed from walnut
hulls.) Children could hardly be expected to be able to make their own
pens, none but goose-quill pens being used, nor, indeed, were many
teachers competent to do it properly. The pens required frequent
mendings, and to make and mend them, and "set copies" for twenty or
thirty pupils took no small part of a teacher's time and was often done
during reading and other exercises in which all but the worst mistakes
escaped the observation of the teacher. To avoid this, some teachers
did this work before or after school hours. The entire day was devoted
to three subjects: reading, writing and arithmetic, or as was said, the
"Three Rs", readin, ritin and 'rithmetic, and the lessons became very
tiresome. The younger children began by singing their a--b--c's, which
were written with charcoal upon smooth boards, the larger ones by
shouting the letters, spelling the words in syllables.
Child nature is much the same the world over, and children were as bad
then as now, in spite of what the old folk say, but they got more
"lickins" then than now. "No lickin no larnin" was the rule. There
were teachers who made regular tours of the room and whacked each pupil
over the shoulders, whether he deserved it or not. The daily
application of the "ferule" was considered by some teachers to be as
necessary as the luncheon the children brought to school. Indeed, if
either had been omitted it would probably have been the latter. In many
communities the same little log cabin was used for both church and
school, the "mourners bench" where on Sunday those convicted of sin
would come and kneel and cry out to God for mercy, was used as the
"recitation bench" during the school days, where those convicted of some
misdemeanor were lined up pleading for mercy while the school-master
vigorously applied the gad. And woe unto the fellow who sat at the
bench farther from the master, where just the end of the gad reached his
legs. There were other modes of punishment. One was to make the
offender climb up and sit astraddle of a joist. Another was to stand
him out on the floor, or make him sit on a high stool, and place a
dunce-cap on his head. This usually humbled him, for everyone else
laughed at him. Sometimes the pupil would throw a pencil or ruler at
the pupil and then make him bring it back to him. Sometimes the pupil
would have to stand and look out the key-hole or stand on a block of
wood and point at a hole in the wall, for an hour or more at a time.
And then there was always that big bunch of seasoned gads ready for use,
some teachers believing that there was nothing like stripes to develop
character.
The larger boys considered it a privilege for a couple of them to go
for a bucket of water, which was carried from a nearby spring or house.
When the water arrived some one would get permission to pass around the
bucket and tin-cup or gourd until the pupils were all watered.
Their dinners, too, were very unlike those of children now. Their
frozen corn-bread was sometime thawed on the dirt hearth in front of the
fire-place. This bread, or "corn-dodgers," as it was called, in one
hand, and sometimes a piece of wild turkey or venison in the other, were
eaten for dinner.
It was the custom when a new teacher came to a school to lock him out
until he stood "treat." If he refused he was punished by the children,
the punishment rivaling the hazing of the colleges of today. Sometimes
he was taken to a near-by stream or pond and ducked. He usually came
around with a supply of candy and fruit.
The most pleasant time of the day was at the noon intermission when
they were allowed to play in the forest surrounding the school-house,
the smaller ones playing such games as "King William," "Hide-and-Seek"
or "Keep House," while the larger ones were playing "Blackman," or
"Townball' or "Ante-over or Darebase" or "Bull-pen," and such
fun as
they had until the master struck against the side of the house with a
piece of wood and in a loud voice called -- "Books." This was the
signal that called them from their play to diligent work.
When the evening chores were done the children would study their
lessons by the light from the fireplace, or a grease lamp or a tallow
candle a large supply of which was usually made in the autumn when the
"family beef" was butchered, and put away for a season's use.
Let us visit for a little while in one of these little log
school-houses of long ago. It is not yet time for school to take up,
but as we enter the master invites us stand by the fireplace in which
there is a roaring fire. A large, green back-log requiring the united
strength of teacher and several large boys has been rolled into the
fireplace, and a small one has been placed on top, and another before,
and the middle has been filled with small wood.
Since it is a bitter cold morning the pupils are standing close by the
fire, some of the larger ones laughing and joking, while some of the
little fellows are crying on account of cold fingers and toes.
The floor of the room is made of split puncheons, the door of split
clapboards and fastened by a wooden latch raised by a leather thong
passing through a hole in the door and hanging outside. Rough benches
of split logs, without backs. set on wooden pegs driven into auger holes
on the round sides, make the seats. They are of about uniform height
and the pegs are so long that the feet of the smaller children dangle
several inches from the floor. Here they must sit from morning till
noon with no relief except when they stand to recite their lessons.
Such a noisy bunch, one can hardly hear the pupils who are reciting on
account of the others studying their lessons out loud. Just then one of
the little boys, who had fallen asleep fell from his bench to the floor
and his big sister is trying to comfort him for going to sleep. We
notice that the pupils have all placed their books on the benches beside
them, since there are no desks in which to store them.
Over there on one side a log has been left out and the opening has
been covered with greased paper or cloth, this window admitting some
light and keeping out the wind. Under this opening is the writing-desk,
a long slab smoothed off with a pitching-axe and fastened on long wooden
pins driven into auger holes in the log and slanting downward from the
wall. Here several of the larger scholars have been busily engaged for
some time following the copies set by the master. Just then some
mischievous fellow raised his knee and struck the writing desk. A
murmur is heard all along the line, and all have blotted papers. Will
the master find out who did it and punish the culprit? No, no one like
a tattler.
It has been a noisy, busy day, and is yet early afternoon, but since
the days are so short, school is dismissed, and after the larger boys
and girls have assisted the younger ones with their wraps, they take
their dinner baskets and wend their way home.
Many of these pioneers, before coming west in their advance before
civilization, had felt the influence of the forest, but here it was
greatly intensified. They experienced an isolation that is not possible
for us of this generation to understand. Is it any wonder then that
there was a feeling of fellowship which bound them so closely together?
They laid well the solid foundation of our educational system, doing
nobly their part in this great work, leading up to our splendid school
system of today, which is known throughout the nation.