Middletown transcript., 1910-06-25
THE VISITOR
BY ". R. ROSE

and discouraged. Inc scnOoI-
room seemed unusually stutfy,
the pupils unusually irritating.
The little teacher wished she
could go away somewhere and
forget all these tiresome duties.
She thought of the pleasant
places where other teachers went
during vacation time, places
where the little teacher did not
70 because there were claims
upon her time and her money
that she could not disregard.
Things didn'sseem we'll disLrib-
uted in this world.
The little teacher looked through
the nearest window, although
there was nothing to see save
roofs and chin neys, and when
she looked back again there was
a misty curtain before her eyes.
Silly, said the little teacher to
herself, and winked back the
tears and frowned at the restless
boys and girls.
Was school teaching a high
mission, she wondered, and was
she the one to carry it out?
The little teacher had asked
herself this question before
many times. She had tried so
hard to throw herself into the
work, to interest the scholars,
to hold their friendship. But it
seemed to her that they quite
forget her as soon as they passed
over the Threshold of the room.
The little teacher was sensitive
no doubt of it-foolishly sensi-
tive, she told herself.
Som etimes she would overhear
fragments of conversation that
could not be regarded as inten-
tionslly unkind, and yet the
words hurt her.
There is my old teacher, she
had once overheard a young
woman say in a shrill whisper
that the rumble of the street car
could not drown. She must
have been teaching for ages.
The little teacher wasn't es.
pecially sensitive regarding her
age. There were ways Of find.
ing itout, if curious people were
SO disposed, but she was quite
sure she didn't look her years
and that was a consolation. Yet
such remarks as she overheard
in the car-and there were other
remarks, many of them that were
quite as thoughtless-rankled in
her gentle heart. If her schol-
srs would remember her with
kindly thoughts and make them
selves known to her when they
met in after years, it would be a
great satisfaction. But of all
the boys and girls who had gone
from her room in her twenty
years experience the number
that seemed to know her after
ward was very, very small, and
she really couldn't recall that
one Of that little regiment of
knowledge seekers had ever
mentioned any special debt of
gratitude he or she owed the
teacher-and yet she had labored
so hard with some of them.
The little teacher took herself
resoiutely by the throat, so to
speak.
What do you expect /? she de.
msnded Of herself. It's the way
of the world. You can't change
it. The selfshness that's bound
up in the heart of child is ex-
panded in the man and woman.
You do your duty, draw your
pay-and that's the end of it. |
Don't expect sentiment. It's out
OF place. You're just a little cog
In the big wheel. Grind away.
For Q moment she had quite |
forgotten her charges. Now the
vigorous fiourishing of short |
arm drew her attention.
Teacher, said the stout boy who |
owned the arm, somebody iss by
the door NIT knockings. Shall I |
make it open?
The little teacher nodded.
Yes, Fritzie. Go quietly.
The stout boy clattered to the
door with every eye in the room
following him.
The little teacher sighed. She
hoped it wasn't a complaining
parent. She didn't feel in a hu.
NOR for q wordy combat.
The stout boy opened the door,
looked out into the hall, stepped
across the threshold and closed
The door behind him.
Teacher, said q thin faced girl
In the front row, IL it's Esdora 5
mother can we laugh ?
. a I