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School days, school days, dear old golden rule days, reading, writing, and arithmetic taught to the tune of a hickory stick! That’s the way it was said… before they polished it up.
Those were the days, good ones too. Each day brought a treasure trove of memories.

My schooling began at age six in a one-room schoolhouse. No kindergarten, straight to grade one.

I remember the days leading up to my first day. My heart was a mix of excitement and worry. Scared, who wouldn’t be?

Laura, who raised me, packed my lunch in a paper bag. Later, Reg, her husband, bought me a tin lunch pail, with the Lone Ranger painted on it. Boy, was I proud of that.

But for my first day, I had a paper bag with sandwiches, an apple, a No. 2 pencil, a rubber, and a small notebook.

Entering the boys’ entrance, I was greeted by a woman teacher. I was seated with five other kids my age, all girls. Can you imagine that? Here I was, ready to make new friends, and what do I get? Girls.

Now, don’t get me wrong, girls are fine. I eventually married one. But on that day, I was hoping for boys to go fishing with, share secrets with, or eat lunch with.

A year later, a few boys joined, but they weren’t too friendly, they didn’t want to hang out with me, being so young.

The girls, though, were always there, pestering me, teasing me. Sometimes I hid at lunchtime to escape them.

Recess on my first day came mid-morning. Our playground was an old field. Off to one side were a few trees with swings, occupied by the girls. The boys were busy on an old baseball field, hitting balls and running bases.

Finding a cool spot under a tree, I sat down and took off my new shoes, as they were hurting my feet.

Off to the right, I spotted a big old bullfrog heading towards a stone fence. Figuring I had no boys to play with, I thought maybe the frog would welcome my company. But by the time I reached the fence, it had disappeared between the rocks. Darn, just when I thought I had a playmate.

When I returned to my shoes, the field was empty. Oh well, they must’ve gone for a walk in the woods. I put my shoes back on. Looking up, I saw my teacher marching towards me with a stern look.

“What do you think you’re doing out here, young man? Recess is over. Everyone’s back in school at their desks, where you should be.”

After a lecture on the rules, I was escorted back to the one-room schoolhouse by my ear. A memorable first taste of education.

At the end of the day, I stayed by her desk while she saw the others off. I thought I was in big trouble, but much to my surprise, when she returned, she gave me a hug.

“George,” she said, “I had to bring you in by your ear. Not to punish you, but because the older kids were watching. If I did nothing, they’d think they could get away with it. So, can we still be friends? Do you forgive me?”

“Sure, no problem,” I replied. “Didn’t hurt a bit. If it wasn’t for that darn frog, I’d have known recess was over, tomorrow, I’ll pay more attention.”

With that, she saw me off the school’s property, and I walked home, whistling away… feeling quite grown up.

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