SCHOOL

I went to school in Mt. Carmel. It was near Mr. Jim Tremblett's place just down from the Church. We didn't have paper to write on. We wrote on black slates and used rock pencils like the lead pencil, but they were hard and the color of slate. We didn't have school uniforms but the girls wore dresses with white "pinafores" (a sleeveless dress or apron fastened at the back) over them. Some of our teachers were Lucy Collins, Michael Gough and Jack McCormick. I got to the fourth reader. We had a reader, Catechism, grammar book and a small book called Table Book for Arithmetic. Many people didn't get a lot of education at that time. I remember this poem from the fourth reader.....

SOMEBODY'S MOTHER

The old lady was old and feeble and grey
And bent with the chill of a winter's day
The streets were wet with the recent snow
And the woman's feet were weary and slow

She stood at the crossing and waited long
Alone not cared for amid the throng
Down the street with laughter and shout
Gladly the freedom of school came out
Came all the boys like a flock of sheep
Hail and snow piled white and deep

Passed the old woman so old and grey
Hurried the children on their way
At last came one of the merry group
The kindest boy of all the troop

He stopped beside her and whispered low
"I'll help you across if you wish to go"
He guided those trembling feet along
Proud that his own were firm and strong
Then back again to his friends he went
His young heart happy and well content

She is somebody's mother, boys you know
Although she is old and feeble and slow
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother you understand
If ever she be old and feeble and slow

And somebody's mother in her home that night
Lay down to sleep and this prayer she said
May God be kind to that noble boy
Who is somebodyÕs son and pride and joy.