[Sidenote: Gazing at Visitors]
Miss Olney had heard that her new room in Virden was not a very good
one, but she had no idea how awkward and ill-bred children could be
until she saw their actions on the first day, when two mothers and one
father came with new pupils to the school. Visitors were evidently a new
experience for this third grade room, for the pupils stared constantly
at the trio seated on the platform, where they had been placed with much
politeness by Miss Olney.
“You’ll have to pardon the way those children stare at you,” she said to
the visitors. “They don’t seem to be used to company. Children, let’s
see every eye on the lessons, now. It isn’t polite to stare at company.”
The children opened their books, and gazed at them unseeingly. Miss
Olney turned to Mr. Turner, whose little daughter was a new pupil, and
explained to him the course she would take. “We don’t have history in
this room, I’m sorry to say. Perhaps we can put it in later. Harvey, do
you have your problems? Then why don’t you go to work? Our guests are
not visiting you; they are visiting the room, and they want to see the
room at work.”
Presently she turned to Mrs. Albright, another of the trio, and began to
explain her ideas of teaching. But in the midst of her explanations she
saw Mary Hill and Sara Bly watching her and her guest.
“Mary and Sara, this is time to get lessons. Dear me, Mrs. Albright, I
do hope you’ll come to see us later, when we have learned to be better
behaved. These children certainly do need some training, and I intend to
give it to them. Look at those little Johnsons; they are fairly staring
a hole through you, Mrs. Young.”
Mrs. Young laughed with her at the staring little Swedes, who quickly
looked at their books in confusion at the evident discussion of them,
and flushed very red. Feeling that they were interfering with the
program of the school, the three visitors soon left, and then Miss Olney
was freer to give her attention to her pupils.
“Now see here,” she began, “there is one thing we might as well
understand first as last. When company comes, I want you to go right on
with your regular work, and _I’ll_ entertain the visitors. Above all
else, don’t stare at them. You get your lessons, or else you’ll fail
right before company, and then think how ashamed you’ll be. I know you
all want to show off before company, don’t you? And instead of showing
off, you all look as countrified and awkward as a lot of little
geese,—just as though you never had company at home.”
Miss Olney did not have much company during the year, but when she did
she went through about this program each time. Her pupils did not
improve in manners; at the end of the year they were as awkward,
self-conscious and ill-bred as in the beginning. She had utterly failed
because she did not know that good manners are largely taught through
imitation.