such a school remained firmly fixed in Miss Very's mind, and the more she thought of it, the more anxious she became that such a school in the little Chapel of the Evangelists in North Charles Street, and had her little summer school, supplementing her work as a public school teacher by this work, to which she gave her time, her money, and, most valuable of all, herself. The experiment was successful, and showed that the need for such a "school" existed. The next year there was no school. Miss Very found it too difficult a matter to carry on such an undertaking unaided. But during the year she met, as visitor of the Associated Charities, Mrs. James Brown. She was led to lay her plans before this lady, who at once entered into them with enthusiasm, and, by her efforts, made it possible for a school to be held during the summer that followed, the summer of 1880. The city gave the use of the Anderson Street schoolhouse, and the second Monday of the long vacation was inaugurated with an astonishingly large number of pupils, both boys and girls, from three to fifteen years old. That was the first season of the first of the vacation-schools of Boston. During that session two hundred and eighty-five names were registered, and there was an average attendance of sixty. Miss Very was the principal teacher, and she had an assistant teacher and a sewing teacher to share her labors. In 1881, there were four hundred and eighty-five names entered; the largest attendance was one hundred, and the average attendance was ninety. The 'kitchen garden" was added that year through the generosity of Mrs. Hemenway. Miss Piper was the teacher of that department. The next year, pupils of every age were admitted to the school. The success of this school at the "West End" served to inspire the establishment of similar schools at the other "ends" of the town, where the most crowded and the poorest population congregate. There are, indeed, industrious mechanics among them, but the wives and mothers are busily employed abroad and at home, and are thankful to know that their children can be happy in a safe place. "BUSY WITH DOLLS' CLOTHING AND TOY BEDS AND TABLES." should be established. To the children whom she desired to reach, the long summer vacation meant only exposure to the heat of a crowded street or the stifling air of a tenement-house, to disease, and to the worst of moral influences. At last, she determined to try the experiment herself, unaided by either money or allies, and she gathered forty-eight of these school-children about her 66 Mrs. James Lodge opened a vacation-school on Parmenter Street, in the Cushman School Building (named for the famous actress, Charlotte Cushman, who was born in that neighborhood), and with an efficient corps of teachers she has done for the North End what the Anderson Street School has been doing for the West End. During the last year, this school has been merged in that of the Industrial Home in the same neighborhood, where the various departments of kitchen garden, kindergarten, and carpenter's classes are successfully "carried on." The South End School was started four years ago under the inspiration of Mrs. James Brown, who gave hearty support to Miss Very in the beginning of her undertaking, and afterward. A committee of ladies was formed from four Unitarian churches at the South End. This committee took the supervision of the school, raised funds for its support, and gained from the school committee permission to use one of the schoolhouses vacant in summer. When this school was first opened in Groton Street, the committee could form no idea of the number of children who would come, or the number of teachers who would be required. There might be a dozen children, there might be fifty. There could be no formal announcement of the school, as the parents of the children would not be expected to be in the habit of reading the newspapers, or of reading anything. It was a hot morning in July, when the committee and teachers assembled at the schoolhouse, and found a crowd of children waiting to be let in-over three hundred presented themselves! The number of teachers was increased, but each class was necessarily a large one. Seventy, perhaps, in one room, children of various ages, with faces beaming as if they were at a circus, instead of in a schoolroom. There were no efforts made for the complete discipline of the winter term, but it is astonishing to see how the school discipline shows its advantages, when a touch upon the bell brings perfect silence upon the chatter of seventy voices, at the close of a recess. One of the committee writes that an important lesson was learned by the summer's work: that the hearts of these children were most easily reached through their hands. If something was given them to do, they listened with respectful and attentive manner, but with idle hands they are restless, dissatisfied, rebellious. The object, then, was to give the children something to do. Sewing, reading, some few lessons in arithmetic, drawing on the blackboard, a class in carpentering, the last two years in hand-sewing, have filled up the time with various occupations. Indeed, it was found that their interest was excited in merely hearing a story read to them. The simplest of stories seemed to attract their attention. In the summer of 1885, this school opened with two hundred and sixty pupils, of which two hundred were boys. Every day some were sent away, and still they came, so that one wondered where they all came from. Eight rooms were opened. One of the loveliest sights was that of the fifty-six little children in the kindergarten, from three years of age up, having a happy time, such as they never before could have dreamed of, under the charge of the girlish young teacher scarcely taller than the oldest child among them. SOPHIE CONNER AND THE VACATION-SCHOOL. BY CHARLES BARNARD. SOPHIE CONNER was a Boston girl who could not spend her summer vacation at Bar Harbor, or Nahant, or Appledore, or Lake Winnipiseogee. So vacation-time in Boston, as Sophie declared, was, "Oh, so stupid!" But one morning, when she had walked all over the Public Garden and looked for the twentieth time at the stiff and straight rows of scarlet geraniums, and had tried ten different benches under the trees merely to see if one bench could be just a little comfortable, she noticed a newspaper on a seat near by. Some one had left it there, and the solemn gardeners who walked slowly about and picked up every scrap of paper in the place, had not yet found it. She would get it and read. How very dreadful! Nothing in it that a girl could read with any pleasure. Somebody had done something wrong, and somebody else had done something still worse- and worse-and worse, and so on through every column! Why didn't the newspaper tell about some one who did something really good and true and brave? Then there would be something to read, and her father would not carry off the paper every morning before any one could see it. Ah! What's this?" New school," "embroidery, drawing, house-keeping, cooking, and carpentry," all "for girls". "Starr King Schoolhouse." She looked up at the clock on the stone spire in Arlington street. It was not too late. Seven minutes later, Sophie Conner turned down into a little lane leading to Columbus Avenue. There were small houses on each side, and in the middle of the block a red-brick schoolhouse. All the windows were open and there was a sound of music on the air of the dull little street. Could it really be vacation-time? Here was a schoolhouse open and everything going on. More wonderful than all, just as she approached the building there was a most delightful suggestion in the air-the smell of a very appetizing dinner. She had never assisted at any dinner that gave out so fine a flavor as this. And the wonder of it all was, that this admirable suggestion of good things came from the schoolhouse. She walked faster and came to the two big doors. Would they take her in? She timidly rang the bell, and a young girl opened the door and invited her to enter. There was a piano in the hall and on it a beautiful vase of wild flowers. There was a picture on the wall,- a woman and a child,—and more beautiful than any she had ever seen. Just then a door opened, and she saw in a room to the left, a lady and six girls of about her own age seated at a pretty table with plates and glass and silver knives and forks, such as she had never seen before. From this room came a lady bearing in her hands a great bundle of beautiful flowers and vines fresh from the fields. "Can you come to the school?" said the lady; "certainly you can. What is your name? Where do you live?" "My name is Sophie-Sophie Conner. We live on Pleasant street. I go to the Grammar School. I should like to come-oh, very much, lady, if you will let me!" Every Another door had opened as she spoke, and she saw a room full of girls, all busily sewing. seat was taken, and for an instant there was a fear in her heart that perhaps there was no room. The lady had paused for a moment as if thinking, and Sophie spoke again: "I could stand up and look on if there are no seats. Oh, lady, vacation is so long, and there are no good times on Pleasant street!" The lady made no immediate reply, but plucked a flower from those in her hand, and without a word gave it to Sophie. Sophie could n't say a word, but stood looking at the flower, which seemed to grow misty and "quivery." But then the lady spoke. "I said you could come, Sophie. Can you draw?" 66 ing. Yes, ma'am, a little," said Sophie, brighten"I learned at school." "Could you draw that flower?" asked the lady. "I don't know, ma'am. I could try," said Sophie. Then she added, "only I have no paper, and my school-pencil's at home." A moment later Sophie Conner had hung up her straw hat, and entered one of the schoolrooms. There were forty girls, each at a desk, and all busy drawing or at work on embroidery. She was introduced to the teacher in the room, and then she was given a seat, some paper, and a pencil. During all this time she had clung to the precious flower, and to her surprise the teacher told her to make a drawing of it. She had studied drawing before, but had always used another drawing as a copy. The lady's plan was new, and was much more pleasant. To draw a real flower seemed to make the work so real and true. More singular still, the teacher showed her that when she had copied the flower in outline on paper, it could be transferred to a napkin or handkerchief, and could be embroidered in silk. Here was real work, with real things, and leading to something that would be useful. How fast the moments flew! The sun shone into the pretty room upon pictures and flowers. Every girl was busy with pencil or needle, and there was a stir of quiet talk in the air as if all were at liberty to whisper just as much as they wished, and every one was having a perfectly lovely time. Sophie looked up once or twice, and saw that many of the girls were copying real flowers, while those who were embroidering were plainly stitching pictures of other real flowers. Her model had been laid on the desk, and as she feared it might wilt before the work was finished, she worked steadily at it until she had made a fair outline sketch. And, just then, the teacher called the school to order, and said that they would sing something, for it was twelve o'clock. Where had the two hours flown? Never had Sophie spent a more pleasant morning. She joined in the singing, and then the vacation scholars all streamed out into the street, for school was over for the day. Bright and early next morning Sophie appeared at the Starr King School. She wished to finish transferring her drawing to a napkin, so that she could embroider it. She went to the same room, but was surprised to find it filled by an entirely new set of girls. The lady she had met at the door the day before explained to her that, in this singular school, the scholars changed rooms every day. Her drawing would be saved, and at another time she could return to the drawing and embroidery class. To-day she would join the doll's dressmaking class. That was fun. Sophie had never imagined so delightful a school. The scholars had real paper patterns for real dresses for real dolls. Once each day, the entire school dropped its work and filed out into the hall, where, with the help of a piano, they marched and exercised with dumb-bells for a few moments, and then went back to work, feeling quite refreshed. Again it was twelve o'clock before she was the least bit tired, and she went home quite bewildered as to whether she should study plain knitting or tatting or cutting dresses. She would take some knitting to the Public Garden after dinner and practice a little for the next day's lesson. As she started for the Garden, she thought she might also take a little paper and a pencil, in case she saw anything pretty to copy. Some day, if her mother was willing, she should make some drawings and embroider all the napkins, and every napkin with a different flower, just as they did in the "What would you like to make, Miss Conner?" he asked, very politely. "Why! I don't know. I never made anything. I sawed a board once, but I did n't saw it very straight. Still," she added, with a little laugh, "if it's part of the school work, I'd like to make a footstool for mother, and cover it with green cloth." "All right, Miss. Sit down and make a drawing of your footstool. Here is a model, and on that bench is paper and a pencil." Sophie looked about the big, whitewashed room, at the brick floor and the workbench. How very, very remarkable! Six girls at the bench, all busy sawing, planing, and hammering, like so many boys. Just then one of the girls passed her, carrying a wooden knife-box, and Sophie ventured to speak to her. No," said Sophie; "I'm the only child." "Well, so am I," said the girl; “and I'm going to learn to do things myself, and be independent." The girl seemed to be very proud of her knifebox and disposed to make light of her bandaged finger. Sophie was ainused at the girl's enthusiasm and went earnestly to work to make a drawing of the model footstool. Pretty soon the young man came and looked over the work, and said that that kind of drawing was very different from drawing flowers. That work must be square and true, so that when she stood at the bench to make the real footstool, she could follow the drawing exactly. When the drawing was finished, the young man began to show her how to use the saw to cut out the pieces. for the little stool, but then that dreadful noon-bell rang, just an hour too soon, as Sophie thought. The next morning she was at the Starr King School, ready to try once more, and wondering greatly whether she would be a little dressmaker, or a girl carpenter, or something else. At the door of the schoolhouse she found a wagon. A boy was unloading groceries and basket. Did they keep house in the school rooms? As there were many girls "So you shall," answered the lady, week. We are going to the cooking-class to-day.' In a moment they came to a room in the basement, and there Sophie found the greatest surprise of all. She was even to study cooking! There were in the room a number of other girls, all tidily dressed, and as Sophie looked around, she saw that there was at one end of the room a large stove and a cupboard and a sink. In the middle of the room were two long tables joined together at one end, so as to form a double table with a SOPHIE TRIES TO DRAW A REAL FLOWER. |