PADUTCH-LIFE-L Archives

From: "Vee L. Housman" <>
Subject: 11-At the Teacher's Institute
Date: Thu, 06 Aug 1998 13:08:35 -0400

AT THE TEACHERS INSTITUTE

You should have visited the Teachers Institute this week.
Such a red-letter day as this red-letter day have I in all my red-letter
days never seen before! There were all kinds of teachers there. And
what women! Pretty, ugly, big, small, fat, thin, smart, and stupid.
They dressed with more style than I've ever seen before in my life,
and their dresses were dazzling. Where they all got their gum for
chewing I wouldn't know, but each one was chewing so loudly that
the noise reminded me of the sound of cows chewing their cud at
midnight. Under the seat of every chair in the courthouse stuck
globs of chewing gum--not unlike the mud nests that barn swallows
build. The men looked dignified and smart, and they acted the part.
Dress gloves, Sidney neckerchiefs, patent-leather shoes, and their
hair parted in the middle--like women.

It wasn't like this in older days. Instead of silk dresses the
women wore cotton, and instead of chewing gum at five cents a
pack they chewed dried peaches. The men wore cow-leather shoes,
and their hair was combed to one side. Those were times when a
golden watch made a man look rich, and a piano was out of the
question. Now they are all as common as stray dogs, and we still
have hard times.

There is also a big difference in styles of learning nowadays.
We used to have to recite from world maps. Now geography is
studied with detailed pictures and textbooks. Every year we had to
go through our grammar and had to learn all the rules without
learning what they were good for. In reading, the teacher would
have us read to the end of our texts, then we'd start all over again
from the beginning. We'd learn how to recite the multiplication
tables backwards and forwards, and there were times when solving
something like nine times eleven meant having to recite the whole
table to oneself silently. We could all read almost as well as a
pastor, but without understanding a word, since it was all in
English, and we spoke nothing but Dutch.

At noon we'd open our lunch pails, and there'd be cold
liverwurst, together with apple butter bread and hard-boiled eggs
for eating. While our mouths were busy eating, our feet would be
drumming restlessly on the floor. In a corner of the room would sit
a boy who had trouble with lice. No one would offer him any
walnuts or pound-apples, since he was also the only republican in
the school. The last I ever hear of him was that he became a state
senator in one of the western states, and the fellow who teased him
the most is still struggling for a living here at the Mountain. You
never know what a lousy person can make out of himself.

One of the biggest days at school was when the superintendent
came to visit. We thought of the superintendent as a bigger man
than even the President of the United States. Every time he paid his
yearly visit he gave us the same speech which consisted of a
reminder that if we'd apply ourselves hard enough we all stood a
chance of becoming a President, and the girls had a chance of
becoming the President's wife. As far as I know none of his
prophecies ever came true, but after seeing Cleveland make it, I
wonder if just about anyone with half the normal common sense
could make into the presidency. This got me to thinking that I
ought to try running again for President, since my chances could be
better than ever if I could just get the Republican nomination.

* * *

Note: This collection of Boonastiel stories was written by H. A.
Harter in the original Penna-Dutch dialect and were published in the
Keystone Gazette, Bellefonte, PA, between 1894 and 1904. They
were translated and transcribed by Bob James of Alaska and they
are being posted to this PADUTCH-LIFE mailing list with his
permission.

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• 11-At the Teacher's Institute by "Vee L. Housman" <>