Chapter LXII

For several years, picture post cards had been sent to every child from all the principal cities in the United States. One set was mailed from Iceland. Not many persons ever received a card from Iceland, we said, as they were writing letters of thanks. For all cards, letters were written, these were real lessons in English and letter writing-an art not easily acquired by children. Gifts also came of copies of Christmas numbers of leading English magazines sent to cottages, hospital and childrens' reading rooms by a friend. Then, too, the York Rite Library Fund furnished a wonderful supply of periodicals and publications for all cottages which were as joyfully received and eagerly read. It seemed no children ever had such a multitude of friends. The amount of good done by all these princely gifts only future years will reveal.

Chapter LXIII

Black cats and witches riding brooms heralded Halloween. Fastening these to walls of the dining rooms, the older girls remarked, "Why can't we wear caps and masks at supper?"

"We shall need paper to make them." "Send in your lists of what's wanted."

Soon requisitions were filled, caps and masks made all sizes and shapes. The faculty entered heartily into the fun, a few costuming as witches and ghosts. When all were seated at tables the witches came slowly in, some of the younger children grew restless as they began sweeping near, and when a ghost appeared at the open door, little girls were seen ducking under the tables with scared faces. Grinning pumpkin lanterns (when we could obtain the pumpkins) stood on posts outside, lights turned on main building porch showed grotesque faces on twelve inch circular pieces of cardboard swaying in the breeze, suspended by slender threads from the ceiling. These faces caused much merriment as the swinging faces turned around and around exposing different faces. At the bell all went to cottages probably to continue the sports.

Seeing the stack of golden pumpkins at the lot one autumn, visions of delicious pies floated before our eyes. Later the farmer disclosed the fact that all had been given to the cows.

Chapter LXIV

"Some day people will know the amount of work done here," I would say to the office girls as we wearily climbed the three flights of stairs to the fourth floor with arms full of supplies or to bring same down.

You will say, "Why didn't you keep all downstairs?" There was no room for them. We had no industrial building then, and cottages were crowded, all we could do would be to stand and hold them.

Chapter LXV

The children had always resented being referred to as "Poor Orphans." They were not treated as such; as robust and healthy a set of children as one would see anywhere. In fact they disposed of one and a quarter barrels of flour a day besides corn pones for dinner, and milk always, often hot cocoa for supper in winter.

We were often surprised at the resourcefulness of the children when we noted the variety of gifts made at Christmas time, using ideas gained from their industrial training. I imagine a glimpse into the homes of some of these children would show evidences of such training received.

Amazing was the number of gifts which they could plan for their friends with only a dime to spend; gifts that each recipient really wanted and had a use for. Wrapped carefully and labeled ready to be placed in the baskets that were to stand on steps in front of the Christmas tree. Of course gifts for the "best girl" and "best boy" were quite unusual-no ten-cent variety there. Often five large laundry baskets overflowing with gifts were placed in front of the trees to be delivered after each child had received the one from the orphanage; at this joyful occasion twelve or fifteen older boys and girls assisted the faculty in the distribution. Last of all a pound box of candy and nuts, an orange and an apple were given to each child including visiting boys and girls and the faculty.

Then came the procession filing out to cottages arms laden with gifts, faces wreathed in smiles; girls with dolls and toys, boys with wagons and drums.

Silence reigned in chapel. The three beautiful trees and decorations were left to be enjoyed during the holidays. By this time we had only three days but they were filled with games, parties, fun and various forms of amusement, including social calls.

Chapter LXVI

Mr. Brown had a very unique way of ridding the grounds of rats and mice that were troublesome even with traps set. He offered a penny to any and all children who would bring one to the office, dead or alive, the main office to receive and award the penny. Hunts began and visions of small fortunes grew in the minds of the more active hunters. Buildings were searched and watched, activities extending to the barn, grain chests, storehouses and even the fields near and far. Pennies grew to dollars at the dispensing counter. The result in clearing the institution of the pests was astonishing.

"Mr. Brown, ain't they cunning?" said a tiny girl, holding a handful of baby mice in her hand, as she walked to the office exhibiting her treasures.

"Why, yes, they are pretty," said Mr. Brown. "Shall I take them for you?"

"Yes, please do," pleased that he was taking them for her. She took the pennies he gave her, evidently not thinking of the fate awaiting the little mice.

Relating the story at a Tri-State Conference meeting, one superintendent who had evidently had experience with boys, interrupted with, "How did you know that the same mice were not taken to the office twice?"

"Well," said Mr. Brown, "I expected that question. Each child had to take the scissors out on the back porch and cut off the tail showing it tail-less before receiving his pay."

"Oh," said the superintendent, "I thought some plan would have to be made."

Chapter LXVII

Crossing the campus one day I heard a shot under the oaks near Masonic Hall and 1-G. "Oh, Mr. Regan," said I, "Are you shooting the birds?"

Some weeks later he remarked, "I wished foryou this morning while walking along the ridge by the alfalfa field. On the telephone wires was a long row of birds that looked like a row of gold stretching away ahead of us."

"Goldfinches! How beautiful! They were migrating and stopped to feed on the alfalfa."

When the field from the new hospital to the Walker Building was a large alfalfa field, the bobolinks visited us for several seasons, staying a week or more. Hundreds of them would perch on the wires in the early morning and give glorious concerts.

While the birds were feeding the bird woman saw an albino among them, cautiously wading through the alfalfa until she got near enough to view the rare bird. "I must surely report this find to the Audubon Society in Washington, D. C., at their next meeting."

The bird woman came several seasons to give talks to the children and take classes out to identify the birds in our vicinity. She was from Alexandria, Virginia, and gave talks at several orphanages. Not a bird note escaped her in the woods and she insisted on our seeing every bird she heard.

"See this bird, it can't fly," said a boy, bringing a beautiful scarlet tanager to the office. "I found it on a lawn as I was coming up the street." Putting it into a large wire cage we placed it out on the platform under the trees at the rear of 1-B. They fed it and watched it until it was able to fly. Then one night I said, "Now tonight leave the cage door open." In the morning it was gone. A few weeks later the boys came to the office saying excitedly, "Miss Bemis, there are a number of those tanagers right out in the oaks near where the cage was."

They built there in the tops of the trees that year. We felt sure our bird had returned.

A booklet of one hundred and thirty questions taken from a set of Burroughs works on nature, printed for us at the printing office, answers to be found scattered through the volumes often requiring much research, were used at our faculty meetings in the winter of 1918-1919. Five questions a week were selected by as many members each reporting at the next meeting. Pupils enjoyed the questions also, often telling answers before teachers found them.

The ladies of the faculty took courses given by members of faculty of the University of North Carolina; in Early Education in the United States, in European History and Literature. These classes were often attended by teachers from the town and neighboring communities. Credit was given to all who took the examinations.

Chapter LXVIII

Telegraphy and typewriting were being taught during Colonel Hicks administration. In fact it has been stated that several operators, among them Mr. H. C. Worthen, then Superintendent of the Southern Division of the Western Union, had received first lessons at the orphanage years before.

Our course had not been compulsory. Classes were small. Students were expected to take part of their recreation time for lessons and wrestling with dots and dashes was no easy task. Few operators were turned out.

Years later the Western Union installed equipment for a complete telegraph office in our new school building. This gave room for more students as the supply of keys for sending and receiving messages was increased.

Since the course has been discontinued, it is to be hoped that the hours spent in learning to read "dots and dashes" will not be considered lost by the students in these days since telegraphy has jumped ahead by leaps and bounds and new methods employed.

Colonel Hicks once told some children who were complaining about lessons they did not like and did not wish to spend time on them, "I had to learn many things I saw no need for at the time, but I have had a use for everything I ever learned and have often wished I knew more."

Chapter LXIX

"Mr. Brown, we don't have any place to play," said some little girls at first cottage as they waylaid the superintendent on his way to the office one morning. "No, we don't," they repeated. "The girls make us pick up our doll clothes in the study and on the porch, and Miss Bemis says says we cannot play under the lattice."

"Let me see the lattice." They took him way under the lattice, where wood was packed for winter use, stooping in the dust and dirt way to the front of the cottage.

"No, you can't play here, but I'll fix a place for you."

The next morning the shop carpenter came with planks and tools and partitioned off the front end of the furnace basement, leaving a door for the older girls to use when tending the fires.

The little girls could enter their new playroom from door a at foot of stairway leading to the rest of the basement. Then the room was turned over to them with orders for all others to keep out.

"Let them arrange the room to suit themselves, only keep a narrow passage across if necessary to tend the furnace fire," said the superintendent. "No little girl should tell him she had no place to play," he said.

The first day there were forty dolls in the room. The next day they told Mr. Brown they had eighty there, all reposing in chairs, beds, and on rugs arranged by the children. They asked no advice. Housekeeping seemed natural. Everything was in order. Everything spotlessly clean. They changed arrangement of room any time. They commandeered pieces of trunks of trees from lattice for seats, standing them on end, made curtains for the two windows and pinned pictures on the walls. They were always ready to receive guests and they had many, Mr. Brown often taking visitors to meet the little ladies who answered questions in their childish way. Soon the room was the envy of all cottages.

"But you have large back yards for play," we said. "They have no back yard." (The vegetable gardens came up close to 1-G, leaving room only for the dray to pass.) "You have the beautiful oaks back of your cottages."

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