His First School. The School-house. The Teacher. The Order of Reciting.
Spelling Matches. First Sweetheart. Extremes in Likes and Dislikes.
Fondness for Study. Improvement in Schools.
At the age of about seven I attended my first school. The house was on
my father's farm, a half a mile from our dwelling. It was constructed
of round logs, and had _five_ corners--the fifth was formed at one
end by having shorter logs laid from the corners at an obtuse angle,
like the corner of a rail fence, and meeting in the middle. It was
built up thus to the square, then the logs went straight across,
forming the end for the roof to rest on; consequently this fifth corner
was open, and this was the fire-place. Stones laid with mud mortar were
built in this corner, extending several feet each way, and wood nearly
as long as the breadth of the house would be filled in. The seats were
split logs smoothed on the flat side, and supported on legs put in with
an auger. From these the feet of the children dangled early and late.
There was no support for the back. The house had a dirt floor and a
clap-board roof. Light was let in by cutting away part of two logs in
the end. A wide puncheon was fastened just below this for the writers,
with a seat to correspond. During winter they pasted paper over these
openings, and light for the rest of the school came down the chimney.
The first teacher we had was an old man by the name of Ballou. He lived
on our place, not far from the school-house, and taught for several
years. He was very poor, did poor teaching, and got poor pay. He was
master of only reading, writing and ciphering.
There were no classes in the school, and each one went it
independently, studying what suited his taste and ability. Some read in
the Testament, and others in any book they happened to have. In those
days the rule was that those who got to school first "said first"--that
is, they recited in the order in which they got to the house. This
would sometimes get up a great rivalry, and I have known young men
living two miles away to be at school before daylight. The whole day,
except an hour at noon, was spent in saying lessons. The old teacher
sat in his chair, and the pupils went to him one by one, in the order
in which they got to the house, and said their lessons. When they got
around, the same process was repeated. Sometimes between turns the old
man would take a little nap, and then we all would have some fun. One
more bold than the rest would tickle his bald head or his nose, and to
see him scratching would afford us much amusement.
Each Friday afternoon was spent in a spelling-match. Captains were
chosen, and they would "choose up" till the school was divided into two
classes. Beginning at the head, one of each class would stand up and
spell, till one was "turned down;" then another took his place, and so
on until all on one side were down. I began at this school in the
alphabet, and the second winter I could spell almost every word in
Webster's old Elementary Speller. If provided with a sharp knife, and a
stick on which to whittle, which the kind old man would allow, I could
generally stand most of an afternoon without missing. Strange to say,
after a few years, when I had given myself to the study of other
things, it all went from me, and I have been a poor speller ever since.
In this school I had my first sweetheart--a buxom, jolly good girl,
about six years my senior. To her I wrote my first love letter, and
when it was done its chirography looked as if it had been struck by
lightning; and I had to get an old bachelor friend to help me read it.
Here I am reminded of an early tendency to extremes in my likes and
dislikes. I had a race one morning with a girl whom I saw coming to
school from an opposite direction, each striving to get into the house
first. I clearly went in ahead, but she claimed the race and beat me
out of it. From this on I had an extreme dislike for her. The spring to
which we all had to go for a drink, was about a hundred yards from the
house. The path to it passed through a broken place in a large log that
lay across this path. In this I would never walk, nor would I pass
through the gap, but would always climb over that big log.
These school days were only during winter, after the crop was all
gathered in and before spring work began. After I got large enough to
help in winter work, my attendance was only "semi-occasional." After a
while a better school-house was built, a mile further away, and it was
every way more comfortable, save that we had still the backless slab
seats. Here I went at odd times in winter for several years. I had
acquired a great fondness for reading, devouring everything in the way
of books I could lay my hands upon. Especially I had a great passion
for history, biography, geography, natural philosophy, and the like,
and I let nothing escape me that the country afforded. I had no money
to buy books, and had to depend on borrowing them. I soon went through
arithmetic, grammar, and the history of the United States. This was
more than my paterfamilias recognized as essential to a practical
education, and hence he was not disposed to let me go to school as much
as the other children, who gave themselves no concern about books out
of school. The idea of one's going through grammar, philosophy, or more
than half the arithmetic, "unless he was going to teach," he regarded
as a waste of time. His conception of life and mine were so different
that there was frequently more or less friction. It was decidedly
unpleasant from youth to manhood to be discouraged and opposed in my
one absorbing passion for obtaining an education. My mother sympathized
with me, but could not help me. The first dollar I ever made I spent
for a book, and for this purpose I saved my hard-earned pennies.
Midnight often found me poring over this book by the light of kindling
prepared for the purpose. This was opposed; and thus the struggle went
on during my minority.
I can not forbear, before closing this short chapter upon my school
life, to allude to the great improvement in the matter of common
schools since I was a boy. My native State, though sadly behind many of
her younger sisters, has made some progress in this direction, and I
can but hope this is only an earnest of what is to come. In a few
favored localities, chiefly the cities, there is ample provision made
for the education of the children of the people, but in the country
districts much remains to be done before we are up with the demands of
the age in regard to the comfort of the pupils as well as the
facilities for the prosecution of their studies. We need more and
better school-houses, better furniture, and more attractive
surroundings. Well qualified and earnest teachers are not yet as thick
as blackberries in Kentucky. When as much attention is bestowed on
these as on jockeys, and on our boys as on our horses, we shall be both
richer and better.