When I was a boy in my early teens I had a Sunday-school teacher who
was surely fifty years ahead of her times.
She knew nothing of a teacher-training course or child psychology.
She never talked in public on the Art of Teaching a Sunday School
Class. She knew but very little of those well-chosen words which the
public speaker commands. She knew nothing of the science of public
instruction. But she did _know boys_ and was a master of the
self-learned art of interesting and instructing a class of early
teen-age boys.
We boys noticed that often she would bring with her a black bag and
would say to us, "Now boys, give me your attention, and after the
lesson I will show you something I have brought with me to the class,
and which I have in my little black bag."
This little idea showed her mastery over boys. She aroused their
curiosity, and as curiosity is the mother of attention we all
listened like regular fellows to what she had to say, and also kept a
longing eye on the bag. We were all set to see what strange things
she would draw from it when the lesson was over. She was a great
teacher and always gave us boys a story form lesson, and it sank in
to stay, and often memory brings back the truth she gave us and also
the contents of the black bag. We can yet see pouring out of it
wonderful truth as from a horn of plenty.
Sometimes it would be some little trinket which had a bit of history
connected with it that brought our heads together and opened our eyes
in wonder as we looked and listened. The first object I remember she
produced from the bag was a little idol from China. She had a sister
there who had sent it to her. We had never seen an idol before, and
as we passed it around the class for close inspection and listened to
her tale of how the heathen worshiped it, it seemed to our boyish
minds as fascinating as a fairy tale, and just as wonderful.
Sometimes it would be a little flower for each of us that was
produced from the black bag. She lived in those days when many of the
city homes had a front-yard garden. She had such a garden, and when
any of us were ill she brought us a cluster of beautiful flowers.
Sometimes the black bag yielded a big apple apiece, and we boys never
tasted such apples before, and devoured them as only an always hungry
boy can do when he is at his best.
We were always at our best when the black bag produced. Generally the
lesson from the black bag had nothing to do with the regular Bible
lesson, but was a supplementary lesson. Oftentimes there was no
lesson to the object at all, but just a little gift which took its
place with the reward cards of that day.
One Saturday morning I met my teacher going to the market. She always
stopped me when we met and had a few words with me, and often down in
her basket she found a stick of candy among the contents which she
always gave me, and which I always received with thanks. Her thoughts
were with her boys so constantly that she always had a bit of candy
among things in her basket, thinking that perhaps she might meet some
of her boys playing in the street as she passed by.
This particular morning she said: "Clarence, tomorrow I will have
something new and wonderful in the black bag; tell all the boys to be
sure to be present." Then she gave me a stick of candy which had a
magic effect on my heels, for they seemed to have wings, as I spent
the entire afternoon running around to the homes of the scholars and
giving them the great news about the "Black Bag."
Next day we were all in our places and ready for the lesson and also
anxiously waiting for the opening of the black bag. When it was
opened she gave us a small bag of chestnuts and a picture-card. I
have never forgotten the black bag, as you see I am recalling now its
history in detail half a century after it opened to us its first
simple lesson.
That dear teacher long ago put on her white garments and went to
heaven. Her boys, six in number, never forgot their teacher and the
black bag. I recall now that two of those boys became ministers of
the gospel. Two of them went into the practise of law. One went West,
and the other passed on. I am all that is left of the old class. The
other boys are with her in heaven, and I often think that perhaps
they talk over yet the story of the black bag.
I have such a black bag now, and whenever I use it in teaching I tell
them the story of my dear teacher and her black bag. I use it now as
a covering for my objects. If the children see the objects before you
use them the surprise element is lacking. If they are brought out of
a bag as you use them, the children will be curious about what comes
next, and will wait and watch as you speak.
The black bag can be easily made as it is a regular bag. Make it
about the size of a child's school-bag, and as books of learning come
forth from such a bag tell them that they can learn something from
your black bag. You may load it with a variety of objects, if you so
desire, and let each object teach a lesson. Some of the objects used
in the chapters of this book can be made first to appear from the
black bag.
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