The Old One Room Schoolhouse

On Friday the 16th we made our every two or three year visit to the Old One Room Schoolhouse with some other homeschoolers. It was a cold and wet day that we went.
Our wonderful hostess the school ma'am.

All of us girls had a fun time goofing off for fifteen minutes out by the out houses in the cold.


Willa and her friend Jessica

Rachel Clarke and her littlest sissy Cathrine
Elsie at the lunch hour



She actually played in the car most of the time. As you can see she didn't mind it much. :)

We had a 'Math Bee'...
...and a 'Spelling Bee'

Willa reading a poem out loud

A plan for a town that never was made

There are only three of these left in the world. This is an old fashioned teachers' kit.

A whittled turtle

Our lunch. We ate inside the schoolhouse instead of picnicking as we usually do, due to the contrary weather.
Right...
Ancient lunch

Our reward for not getting a math problem quick enough.

My hair was supposed to be hooked to the wall for a punishment.
A boy wearing a bonnet and sitting with the girls for a punishment
Noses to the chalkboard. Tiptoes!
For the bad little ones

I and some other seven students went up onto the 'stage' and read a poem out loud.
Me studying the poem. I absolutely loved it and read it over three times.
by Thomas Campbell

A chieftain, to the Highlands bound, Cries,

``Boatman, do not tarry!

And I'll give thee a silver pound

To row us o'er the ferry!''--

``Now, who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,

This dark and stormy weather?''

``O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,

And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.--

``And fast before her father's men

Three days we've fled together,

For should he find us in the glen,

My blood would stain the heather.

``His horsemen hard behind us ride;

Should they our steps discover,

Then who will cheer my bonny bride

When they have slain her lover?''--

Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,--

``I'll go, my chief--I'm ready:--

It is not for your silver bright;

But for your winsome lady:

``And by my word! the bonny bird

In danger shall not tarry;

So, though the waves are raging white,

I'll row you o'er the ferry.''--

By this the storm grew loud apace,

The water-wraith was shrieking;

And in the scowl of heaven each face

Grew dark as they were speaking.

But still as wilder blew the wind,

And as the night grew drearer,

Adown the glen rode armèd men,

Their trampling sounded nearer.--

``O haste thee, haste!'' the lady cries,

``Though tempests round us gather;

I'll meet the raging of the skies,

But not an angry father.''--

The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her,--

When, O! too strong for human hand,

The tempest gather'd o'er her.

And still they row'd amidst the roar

Of waters fast prevailing:

Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,--

His wrath was changed to wailing.

For, sore dismay'd through storm and shade,

His child he did discover:--

One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,

And one was round her lover.

``Come back! come back!'' he cried in grief

``Across this stormy water:

And I'll forgive your Highland chief,

My daughter!--O my daughter!''

'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore,

Return or aid preventing:

The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.

Posted By Emma