The school house was near the river bank, just about opposite to the
river's mouth. It stood back far enough for a good wide street. It was
in the midst of a pretty grove of small oak trees that reached their
branches far out, giving cool shade where we could sit and eat our
lunch. The evergreens and maple trees were mixed about, giving it a
variety of change. Wild roses grew everywhere. It was truly an ideal
spot that we never tired of.
Our teacher was Miss Helen Goodale. I will just mention a few names of
the scholars I first met on the morning of my first school day in
Traverse City. Alexander, James and Jane Carmicheal, George, John and
Tom Cuttler, James, William and Richard Garland, Augusta and Lucius
Smith, Helen Rutherford and brother, Albert Norris and Agnes Goodale,
sister of the teacher.
The next year more people came and more scholars. Our little school
house was filled. We were a happy lot, seeming almost like one family.
We drank from the same cup, swung in the same swing, sharing our lunches
together, and no matter where we have roamed through the wide world can
we forget that little old log school house. I have seen it many times in
my dreams, and the happy faces of each as we tried to excel to please
the teacher. We all loved her, though trying her patience often. Yet we
knew and felt she loved us. Oh, happy school days and pleasant school
companions! Only a few of us are left at this writing, many have crossed
over on the other side, yet I believe it will be a happy re-union if
sometime we may meet where no good-byes are said.