My next teaching venture was in the third grade in the "new building" of the Kenosha public schools in the year 1874-75. Just to know what the school situation was at that time, I examined again the old record for the names of those serving on the school board in 1874. The list found impressed me deeply. It included several of the most prominent citizens, who thus evinced their interest in the public schools and their willingness to sacrifice time and energy for them. From the first ward were Emory L. Grant and Frederick Robinson; from the second (North Side) John Meyers and Conrad Muentzenberger; from the third, Henry M. Rogers and Volney French; from the fourth (also North Side) Gurdin Gillett and Nathan R. Allen. Mr. Grant was a member of the class of 1861, Kenosha high school and attended Ann Arbor University. He was always an active friend of the public schools. Mr. Robinson was the leading druggist of the city. Volney French was a practicing attorney for many years during the early history of Kenosha, and was judge of the Probate Court at the time of his death in 1881. Mr. Allen was the head of a tannery business that afterward developed into a dominant industry of Kenosha. Mr. French was the president of the board in 1874, and the man elected by this board to serve as superintendent of schools was Henry M. Simmons. Mr. Grant was chairman of the teachers' committee. It was a fortunate thing to begin one's teaching under such favorable official auspices. There was a new principal in the high school, George Bannon. He succeeded H. O. Durkee, who had served five years. Mr. Bannon was principal for two years, 1874-76, and then went to Chicago, where he held for many years (until his death) the principalship of one of the large schools. According to the old custom, the examination of all the teachers in the old force had to be gone through with every year. At the same time new candidates were examined for any vacancy that had developed. The election of teachers was very late that year. There are evidences that the board was being stirred by the idea of improving the teaching force, for at a meeting in July they resolved as follows: "That in order to insure that the best teachers for these rooms (higher intermediate grades) we allow any teacher engaged in the school to complete at an examination to be held the week before the fall term commences," the late day being set, probably to allow teachers time to prepare for the ordeal. Late in August it was reported by the superintendent that these teachers "did not choose to complete" for the rooms designated--a use of the verb "choose" that considerably antedated it use under somewhat analogous, but more famous circumstances. Although the board had voted to begin school Monday, September 7, it was not until the Saturday before that the annual examination of teachers was held. By that time a vacancy in a primary grade had developed, and I became one of the candidates for the place. It could not have been a very thorough examination, for it was all over by noon. At a special meeting of the board that same Saturday evening, the report was made by the committee on teachers. My standing in the examination warranted appointing me to the school already mentioned, the salary for which was $300. With only Sunday intervening before the opening day, there was no time for any special preparation, but there were three terms of school teaching in the country to draw upon, and I approached my new work with considerable confidence. But alas! According to the usual standards in city school systems then, that third grade of forty pupils or thereabout, was not large, probably considerably under the average in size; but in comparison with my previous experience, it was huge. Besides that, I had yet to learn that there are found among city-bred boys a species quite different from those I had dealt with in my country schools. Since this third grade seems to illustrate well the very mixed constituency often found in that most democratic of our institutions, the public school, and since it also illustrates the potentialities existing among children in such an ordinary situation, I will, for the two reasons just stated, tell about a few of the children that I remember in that primary grade. Psychologists say that it is the emotional accompaniment of an experience that determines the readiness and clearness of its recall--a fact that any one can verify by only a casual introspection, and one that I am now verifying. The "emotional accompaniment" aroused in me by experiences with those pupils varied from those caused by the most troublesome ones to those caused by the best of my flock--from worry and discouragement on the one hand, to pleasure and hope on the other. I will take the worrisome ones first. I had several boys from what modern social workers would call a "gang." They came from "The Patch," a section of the city across the railroad tracks, inhabited chiefly by Irish families of different grades of social status and repute. In that vicinity was the house in which had lived a man distinguished as being the only person who was ever hung in Wisconsin. One of the effects of this horrible public event was the law abolishing capital punishment in our state. His name was McCaffrey, and his offense was the murder of his wife. "The Patch" was regarded as a rather tough neighborhood, and coming from it was Frank Maginty, emulating and probably at that early age imitating, gang leadership. To him, teachers were natural enemies and school a hateful place, a waste of precious playtime. Another with less troublesome qualities, who evidently came from a better home, and was a follower rather than a leader, was Dennis McIntyre, called "Dinny" by his fellows. He was a younger member of a family, all the boys of which took to some form of show business--the stage or the circus. One older brother, in the well-known combination of "McIntyre and Heath," attained national fame in vaudeville, and when last heard from was living on Long Island, where successful actors go to enjoy their acquired fortunes. Dennis would probably have followed the same line as his brothers had he lived to grow up. As a primary pupil, he showed incipient talent in the way of entertaining, but had very poor judgment, so the teacher thought, as to choice of occasion for his performances. There were others of the same sort, and Principal Bannon of the high school, who also had some supervisory duties, anticipating trouble for me, brought me a cruel looking whip, which article at that time was considered a necessary part of a teaching equipment. It reposed in the drawer of my desk, and although it was not used, it may have exercised an influence. The truth of my statement about mixed constituency is carried out by mention of another member of that third grade, a rather trival mention, but excusable, I trust, since it illustrates another phase of the "emotional accompaniment" idea. Moreover, it recalls an item in the social history of the city. There were in Kenosha at that time two colored families, one living in the down-town region, and the other in the western outskirts, in the vicinity of what is now Twenty-second Avenue, then open country. Each family had many children. The former one honored prominent men and women in Kenosha by naming after them successive additions to its numbers. The latter, surnamed Smith, followed the practice of selecting even more distinguished names, favoring none save those of persons of national or even world renown. From the Smith family a little boy named Alex, very black, very cute, and quite popular because of his uniqueness, came to my third grade. Well do I recall this very humorous incident. The children at the blackboard were directed on one occasion to write their full names instead of only the given names, at the top of the space allotted to them. Alex, seizing upon this opportunity, began with bold, straggling letters, to follow my directions. He soon got to the limit of his space; objections arose to his trespass on the rights of others, and Frank, whose territory he had invaded, assumed a belligerent attitude; but at my suggestion that this time we just let Alex go on, the objectors fell back and became like myself interested spectators. His tongue co�perating with his hand, the chalk moved ahead irresistably, space line after space line falling down before it, until stretching along the blackboard there stood revealed to the admiring gaze of his classmates, his full name, "Alexander the Great Bird Smith." After that "A. B. Smith" was accepted as sufficient for all practical purposes. In contrast with Alex, I will name next a beautiful little boy from a wealthy home, whose parents had moved to Kenosha from a large city. Johnnie had had kindergarten training, and had been used to considerably more freedom than was customary then in an orderly primary grade of a public school; but he was amenable to private suggestion, and we got on well. He was picked upon considerably because of his small size and his attractive clothes, but he astonished his classmates and won their respect by outdoing them in reading and spelling. He was a promising boy. It is always a cause of regret to a teacher when manhood does not fulfill the promise of the childhood she knew and loved; and she wonders how and wherein environment operated to spoil the seemingly fine heredity. Would have turned out differently, and have made the serviceable contribution to the work of the world of which he seemed capable, if circumstances had not brought to him money, without the need of working for it? But the gamut of emotional association which I mentioned--including, as it does, those that were pleasant, brings to mind several children of a different sort from any named thus far, and these illustrate potentiality fulfilled. In my group was a girl and her younger brother from one of the best families in the district. I recall the tender solicitude of the sister for her timid little brother--just the same that she as Mrs. Emmett Wilson of Oshkosh gave her own boys and is now giving to her grandchildren--a genuine mother always. Their home had not failed in laying the foundation in these children for right school citizenship. By their ready compliance with regulations, they helped counterbalance the effect upon the school of those children whose homes had not given them the right start. Had there come to their honest, outspoken father the need, as it once came to Dallas Lore Sharp, of defending his sending these carefully reared children to a public school, his reply would undoubtedly have conveyed the purport of Mr. Sharp's reply: "My children may not need the public school, but the public school needs my children." George D. Head believed in the public school, as was demonstrated also, by his nine years of membership on the Kenosha school board between 1879 and 1895. Little I thought then, that that boy, Eugene Head, grow to useful successful manhood, would render me invaluable assistance in a cause for which I was then struggling against serious odds. This he did by allowing me free use of the Kenosha newspaper, whose policies he was directing, for getting across to the public the plans and purposes hoped for and followed in the administration of their schools. Without this aid in the creating of public opinion, those purpose could not have succeeded. One more "potentiality" I will tell about, one of the greatest as to services rendered that it was ever my privilege to influence as a teacher. There was among those children a boy remembered for being a good little school citizen like those just named. We called him Charlie. His father was a captain on the Great Lakes, Captain Robert Symmonds. I feel honored to be able to give here this brief account of the career of Charles J. Symmonds. Having graduated from West Point, he had charge of different army posts, two of them being Fort Bliss and Fort Riley. He also served in the Philippines for a time. It was in the World War that he won highest renown. I have at hand some leaves out of the Quarter Masters' Review. They contain an article headed "Gi�vres, the Largest General Storage Depot in France." It is a report of absorbing interest by C. J. Symmonds, Colonel General Staff. An editorial comment accompanying it says: "During all those busy, trying days, before the Armistice brought some surcease from care and labor, Headquarters S. O. S. came to recognize the slogan, 'Gi�vres Never Failed!' Such commendation was sufficient reward for the 80,000 officers and men who served there at one time or another. Here is the story of Gie�vres. It is set down by Colonel Symmonds, who so efficiently commanded the vast storage depot from February 14, 1918 to July 1, 1919." Those who followed General Pershing's account of his "Experiences in the World War," which appeared recently in serial form in different newspapers, may have noticed in one of the January 1931 installment, and again in February, mention of the efficiency of the operations of this great supply depot. General Pershing says of an early stage of its operations: "Gie�vres, which lies 100 miles directly south of Paris, became the site of our principal supply depot in France. Under Col. C. J. Symmonds' able and energetic directions, construction to cover an area of twelve square miles was going forward with all possible speed." Farther on, General Pershing gives an illustration of the celerity and success with which the system managed by Colonel Symmonds operated, after everything in the depot was in full swing. After giving the details of the filling between 8:15 a.m. and 6:15 p.m. of a "colossal requisition which required 457 cars for transport," and getting it on its way to the front, General Pershing says: "No other place gave such an impression of the tremendous task of supplying our armies and the perfection of organization necessary to do it efficiently." A French officer, Colonel de Chambrun, thus pays tribute to the achievement directed by Colonel Symmonds: "Of all these installations in the Intermediate Sector, of all those that have been established by any army at any time and at any place in the course of the war, the most important from every point of view was the General Intermediate Storage Depot at Gi�vres." One can hardly conceive of a stronger statement of commendation! And this man was the "Charlie" of the incongruous bunch I am describing. A primary teacher never knows in what tremendous undertakings some boy may put to use the simple facts of numbers which she teaches him! After the war he was promoted to the position of brigadier general. At the ninth Armistice Day Celebration on November 11, 1927, he was the recipient of as great honors as Kenosha could extend him, and at the time of that visit to his native city, where a brother, Attorney Frank S. Symmonds, and sister, Miss Elizabeth, reside, he remembered his old teacher and called upon her. She was proud to recall that she had taught him not only in the third grade, but in the high school, where he had arrived by progressive stages about the time that she, after a period of serious experience in the School of Life, had resumed her teaching. In the low-voiced, modest man it was difficult to realize that he was a military officer, had commanded thousands of men, and had made such a great, such a vital contribution to the winning of the World War. I felt myself to be in the presence of a personality whom soldiers would love and respect and delight in obeying. The relief of Brigadier General Charles J. Symmonds from active service took effect October 22, 1930. After these reminiscences and associated history of my pupils, what do I remember about the educational material afforded them through the course of study? There was the usual emphasis on the "three R's"; and besides these, geography was stressed in a way that has long been abandoned for children of that age. I remember distinctly the achievement of this third grade in locational geography during the fall term. On a map of the world--Mercator projection, they could point out the great natural features of the continents when called for by the teacher, and name them as she pointed them out. They seemed to revel in such names as Yenisei, Yangtse Kiang, Himalaya, Mediterranean. They were avid to learn, and the finding and naming of places on the map was an interesting performance. I was very proud of the skill the class displayed in this work, and so when the superintendent of schools called upon me, I showed them off. At the end of the session this kind friend and wise teacher talked to me about my work and about that geography class. The purport of the talk was this: that the knowledge of the names of the rivers and mountains of Asia will not be of much use to these children. Those things are far away: and there is right at hand so much to observe and know about, which will really enrich their lives. They will never see the Yenisei River in Siberia, but in the heavens every clear night shines the Big Dipper, with its "pointers' directing one to the North Star. Do they know the simple facts about clouds, rain, dew, frost, snow? Do these children know the beauty of snowflakes? Then in the spring will appear growing things, plants, leaves, and flowers. They should be interested in these. He handed me a book, which would be my textbook in a new study to take place of geography. Here was suddenly opened up to me a new field, and I joyfully began work in it. How useful to me now was the knowledged and experience gained as a country child! This innovation, this disturbance of the order that had been in unquestioned operation for many many years, was not received by all teachers with feelings of joy. The school board was back of it, and they had taken the following action, under date of September 1, 1874: The superintendent stated that he wished to make some changes in the Course of Study in the lower rooms, so that children would not be required to study geography to such tedious and useless extent, but might learn more of themselves, and of the animal and vegetable life and common phenomena about them; that he wished to introduce into the lower rooms come primary textbooks on science and a course of drawing. Moved by Commissioner Robinson that the subject of textbooks he referred to the president of the board and the superintendent with power to act. The motion was amended by Com. Rogers so that the principal of the high school was added to the committee, and then carried. It was later on in life that I came to appreciate the full significance of this action. It was a distinct break with tradition! There was in it the recognition of that important principal that the natural interests of children should be consulted and should influence the laying down of a course of study, that the course should be fitted to the child, and not the child to the course; it was in accord with "present use" theory rather than the "future use" theory of instruction. Some significant effects of the new course are clearly remembered. After the study in the spring of sprouting seeds (a previously unheard of school activity), there came the study of leaves. And here is where the interest of my Frank and Dinnie became especially involved. "Oh, teacher, see here, we found a leaf with a crenate edge!" or "a leaf with stipules!" and the family almanac would be opened up to display their collection pressed between its pages. They ranged the woods and fields with a motive other than that of finding birds' nests to rob and snakes to kill. There was much free-hand drawing of leaves by the children, and at the top of the blackboard in a carefully ruled off space, were drawings of leaf parts, of margins, venations, and other characteristics, all properly labeled, as they were successively introduced. Perhaps the technical names were more in evidence than may be approved today for such young children, but I have a notion that if more names were taught today of specific characteristics of plants, and names of plants themselves, of trees, shrubs, and flowers, children's minds would feel no strain, and their pleasure in nature study would suffer no decrease. This had been a year of growth for me. I was rehired at a salary of $325. But a new purpose had come into my mind. I began to hear of the Oshkosh Normal School, which then had completed the fourth year of its history. Several Kenosha County teachers had attended that school. Among them was a young man who was our next door neighbor on the west side in Kenosha. In vacation time he told me much about the teachers, the studies, and the students there, and my interest grew. I had saved $200 during the year of my teaching in kenosha. When I broached to my parents the proposition of using that money to go to the Oshkosh Normal School, there was opposition. They had a perfect right to feel as they did, since I had that much money because they had charged me little or nothing for my living. My father's views were implied in one his parable-like stories, a characteristic practice with him. This story relates to a man known as a healthy, successful worker. His neighbor one day was surprised to learn of this man's illness, and when he went to see him and inquired the cause of the trouble, the sick man replied to the neighbor thus: "I was well, but I wanted to be better; I took some pills, and here I am!" But I was sure father's story would not be found to fit my case. Even my good friend, pastor, and erstwhile supervisor, H. M. Simmons, could hardly see why I should want to go. But when they all realized that I was quite determined, opposition ceased, and preparations were made for my leaving home for this new adventure in education. My next chapter will tell of the Oshkosh Normal School as I found it in 1875-76.

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