The San Francisco call., 1910-01-08
ON CHARLEs CRIsTADoRO

II TURN DOCk the annual Httuu VI lllS y
clock of life nearly so years and I
see myself boy at desk, and in
front of me is q ne I glass ink well,
carefully filed, lest 1t overflow, with an
acrid smelling blue black liquid. ink.
1 finger over half dozen little elon-
gated crescents of polished steel,
pointed and ingeniously split, my pens,
with "Gillott" stamped upon their sur
face. In those days, in the pen line,
it was Gillott's pens or quill, you
took your choice.
The penholder was a masterpiece of
polished turning, smelling of the cedar
chest in which the furs were stored at
home in the attic. Into this holder we
were shown how to insert the PEN not
too far but just far enough to avoid
dipping too deeply in the ink and soil
ing our fingers a precautionary meas
ure futile in its outcome, as rule.
The portfolio was a parallelogram of
pasteboards held together to form
rocket concealing crimson colored
sheets Of very thin blotting paper. that
only too often 'blotted" instead of alb
sorbing the outer surface of the port
folio being covered with a thin glazed
fabric of some kind You rarely ever
see one nowadays in use in this coun-
try, although common on the desks of
French officials and very likely even
now present in their schools. [ inn
asine they were imported from France.
And now came the photographic
taskmaster the copy book, Spencerian,
filed with up and down strokes. fine
and shaded pot hooks and V's and WIS,
that were the despair of the tyros
life And the impossible narrow space
between lines to which we must re-
strict ourselves. That book was, in a
penmanship sense truly pons asin-
orum
Those hair line up strokes. How
could we even do those without the
pen splutterng and maybe breaking
and making an inky constellation upon
the page? Troubles real and burden
some may, and do, come in after life
a plenty, but what be they to the
trials and sorrows and tribulations OF
the school boy? The frowning mas
ter the unlearned lesson, the ounces
conical headgear and the high stool
in the corner and the bunch of birch
en- twigs or leather strap or ruler, long,
flat and weather beaten.
mo blotsp was the slogan that we
heard when writing lesson was an
nounced, but how did we know that we
must first moisten the nib with our
lips before dipping it into the ink We'll?
And in this we had to have our eXpe-
rience by blotting our nicely engraved
page and making the most calamitous
of all steps, bad beginning.
And so we struggled on, first through
the angular ups and downs, then the
curves and the shading, until passing
through the individual letters we We're
actually writing, as they say in Ham
let" words, words, words" Virtue is
its own reward" ITO be good is to be
happy" Dare to do right" And so we
were maXimed and taught to write at
one and the same time. But the fear
ful blots. And the borrowing of PEN
knives and the incessant scratching
that but too often left openings clean
through the paper The boy who really
could show a blotless, unscratched and
neat copybook deserved the head place
in the class and no envy followed him.
And so the days went on until we
arose to the dignity of Writing home
in a more or less perfect stimulation Of
the true Spencerian style.
Months, or perhaps a year or two
after. a writing teacher. specialist,
came along. A fine, well set-up French
man of 60 or more, bearded and as ma
jestic looking as Michael Angeles s
Moses. He had the accent. but while
noticeable It did not interfere with his
making things very clear to us. all
though he would unguardedly exclaim
at times, "viola! Attended,. Comme ca 4!
Tres facile," etc.
And what did this old gentleman
from the sunny, vine clad hills of la
belle France do but go to the black
board which he nicely cleaned and
with a fresh long piece of chalk the
same identically as that in use today.
make circles, circles, and more circles.
First from left to right with the shad-
ing on the down stroke at the right,
and then from right to left, with the
heavy down stroke on the left.
We We're a little amused at first.