SUCCESS AT SCHOOL.
About a year after my father's death, my mother decided upon sending me
to school, as she thought I was becoming too sedate and serious for a
child only eleven years of age. I had never been very familiar with the
neighbouring children of my own age, and after the death of my father I
cared still less for their companionship. My chief enjoyment was in the
society of my mother; and as we kept no servant, I found many ways of
making myself useful to her; and every afternoon she devoted two or
three hours to my lessons and needlework. Thus passed away the first
year after our great sorrow, when, as I have already said, my mother
decided upon sending me to school. It seemed to me, at the time, quite a
formidable undertaking--this going to school. I had never been separated
from my mother, and the five hours to be spent daily in the school-room
seemed to my childish mind a very long time. I had ever been shy and
diffident in the presence of strangers, and the idea of entering a large
school a stranger to both teacher and pupils, was very unpleasant to me.
But when I found it to be my mother's wish that I should go, I
endeavoured to overcome my reluctance, and assisted my mother in her
preparations for entering me as a pupil at the beginning of the ensuing
term.
It was with a feeling of timidity that I accompanied my mother through
several streets to the school taught by Miss Edmonds. My mother
accompanied me to relieve me from any awkwardness I might feel in
presenting myself for admission. It was a select school for girls. As my
education had thus far been entirely conducted by my mother, I had of
course, never been subjected to the rules of a school-room; and I must
confess that I had formed an idea of school teachers in general that was
not at all flattering. I fancied them all to be old, sour and cross--a
mere walking bundle of rules and regulations, and I was quite unprepared
to see the sweet-looking young lady who answered to my mother's summons
at the door. Surely, thought I, this young lady cannot be Miss Edmonds;
and when my mother enquired if such were her name and she replied in the
affirmative, I thought going to school might not be so bad after all.
After giving Miss Edmonds my name and age, my mother held some
conversation with her regarding my studies, and left me with an
encouraging smile. I felt all my timidity return when I thought of
entering the school-room with Miss Edmonds, but her kind and friendly
manner reassured me. The school consisted of about thirty girls, many of
them older than myself. I had feared that my attainments would be
inferior to those of the youngest of the pupils, and I was equally
pleased and surprised when Miss Edmonds, after a long and careful
examination in regard to my acquirements, placed me in one of the higher
classes. There was to me an irresistible attraction in the countenance
and manner of my teacher; and, from the first moment I saw her I loved
her. Although her home is now far distant from mine, and we have not met
for many years, I love her as dearly now as when she took me by the hand
when a child of eleven years. She conducted her school in a very
systematic and orderly manner, and was very particular to require
perfect recitations from her pupils; but as I possessed a retentive
memory, I found my tasks much lighter than did many of my classmates.
When I had been about a year at school, Miss Edmonds offered a prize,
in the class to which I belonged, to the young lady who should write the
most able composition upon a given subject. The prize was to be a small
gold pencil-case, and was to be awarded at the close of the summer term.
The closing day at length came; there was much suppressed excitement
when we were called to order that morning. As we expected no visitors
till the afternoon, we spent the morning mostly in reviewing our various
studies. By two o'clock our school-room was crowded. We first passed a
very searching examination in the different studies we had pursued
during the past year. I believe we passed our examination in a manner
creditable both to our teacher and to ourselves.
The reading of our compositions was reserved, as the closing exercise.
The compositions, with the name of the writer, were read by Miss
Edmonds. Each person present was at liberty to write down each name as
it was read by our teacher, annexing to it the numbers one, two or
three, according to their opinion of the merits of the composition, each
desk being furnished with paper, pens and ink for the purpose. When the
compositions had all been read, the slips of paper were collected and
handed to our pastor, who was to read aloud the fortunate name with the
greatest number of ones annexed. What then was my amazement and that of
all present when our pastor, after carefully examining the papers, rose
and said,--"Miss Clara Roscom will please come forward, and receive from
the hands of Miss Edmonds the reward of so much merit." I remember I
felt a nervous dread of crossing the large school-room alone, when I
knew every eye would be directed to me. Composing myself by a strong
effort, I rose and walked up to the raised platform, where at her desk
sat Miss Edmonds, with our pastor and several other friends. As I bowed
low in acknowledgement of the gift, Miss Edmonds, with a few kind words,
dismissed me to my seat. I heard many flattering remarks among our
assembled friends; but the proudest moment of all, to me, was when I
gained my mother's side and she said to me in a low voice, "My dear
Clara, this seems to me a token that you will prove a blessing to your
poor widowed mother."
Miss Edmonds often remarked that I made wonderful progress in my
studies, and these commendations, coming from my teacher, incited me to
still greater diligence. I take no credit to myself for superior talent,
but I certainly did my best, for, be it remembered, I was studying to
please my dear mother, who often said to me, "You must, my dear Clara,
make the best of your opportunities for improvement, as the time may
come when your education may be your only means of support." My mother
often regretted that we did not own a piano, for she was very anxious
that I should study music; but our means did not justify the purchase of
an instrument, and she thought that lessons without the necessary
practice would be useless. The parents of Miss Edmonds resided in the
city. They had once been wealthy, but owing to those reverses to which
all are liable they had become reduced in circumstances, so much so that
Miss Edmonds gladly turned to account the superior education she had
received in their prosperous days, and she had for some time been a
teacher when I became a member of her school. My mother happened to
mention to Miss Edmonds one day her regret that I was unable to take
music-lessons, for want of opportunity for the needful practice, when
she informed my mother that she still retained her piano out of the
wreck of their former affluence, and that, if she wished me to take
lessons, I was at liberty to practice daily upon it. My mother accepted
for me the kind offer, and I at once began taking lessons. I remained
four years under the instruction of Miss Edmonds, with much profit to
myself. At the end of this time, Mr. Edmonds removed with his family to
the city of New York, having through the influence of friends, obtained
the situation of cashier in one of the banks in that city. It was a
severe trial for Miss Edmonds to resign the school where she was so much
beloved by her pupils; but she thought it her duty to accompany her
parents to their new home.