23

Public Exhibitions

The holidays were over, and all the absent ones had returned with light hearts and were ready to take up the daily lessons and strive to climb up the ladder of knowledge.

Mr. Vance’s class had, soon after Gertie Hawley and Carrie Raymond had been promoted to the sixth grade, given their public exhibition, at which the members of the class had creditably recited their original compositions.

Carrie and Gertie had each been obliged to write another composition after entering Mr. Arnold’s class. Arrangements had been made for this class to recite their productions on a certain evening just before the holidays; but unforeseen events had caused a postponement. Another evening, however, had been fixed upon, and every member of the class was busy preparing to do his or her part. Some of them, however, secretly wished that something would again occur to prevent the exercises from taking place. Others as sincerely hoped that nothing would occur to prevent. The designated evening at length arrived.

At the appointed hour the other classes and the teachers gathered in the chapel. Then Mr. Arnold’s pupils made their appearance, mounted the steps of the platform, and seated themselves on the row of chairs placed there for their accommodation. They were all dressed in their best apparel and looked quite as intelligent and attractive as would a class of children who could hear and speak. At first they felt rather uncomfortable, with so many pairs of eyes fixed upon them—at least some of them did; but there were a few who seemed imperturbable on almost all occasions.

When the superintendent, who also occupied a seat on the platform, arose and prepared to announce the name of the first person who would be expected to recite, the hearts of some began to palpitate very fast. None of them knew whose name stood first on the list, and some of them dreaded the task before them.

They were not long kept in suspense, for Gertie Hawley’s name was soon called. She came forward in an easy, graceful manner, bowed to the assembly, and delivered her theme without a pause, or any sign of perturbation.

The exercises were enlivened by several amusing performances. One girl represented the folly of building castles in the air by telling the story of a milkmaid who was trudging along with a pail of milk on her head and laying plans for the disposal of the milk so as to receive the greatest profit to herself. Going steadily on, she became so occupied with her meditations that she forgot the position of the pail, and, not being careful to keep it steady, it suddenly lost its balance and fell, the milk coming down in a shower all over the unfortunate maid. That was the end of her castle building.

One of the boys had written of an incident which illustrates another form of folly—pride. The substance of this incident was as follows: The superintendent one day requested a boy to hitch a horse to the great watertight box into which the refuse from the tables was thrown and haul it away to feed the hogs. He prepared to comply. The horse was brought around and hitched; then, raising his eyes, he saw a teacher standing on the balcony, and he resolved to undertake a feat that should call forth the teacher’s wondering admiration. With this object in view, he gathered up the lines and climbed up to the edge of the box. There, skillfully balancing himself, he made a vigorous motion to encourage the horse to start. The horse obeyed the signal, and the next moment the driver was floundering in the slop. He got out again and, in the course of an hour or so, was feeling quite comfortable. A good moral to be drawn from this incident would be, “Never undertake to do anything for the sake of winning admiration or applause.”

As before stated, Carrie Raymond dreaded public recitations, but when her name was called on this occasion, she arose determined to do her best. Though she began to tremble a little and a slight tremor disturbed her nerves, she made the customary bow, spelled out her subject, and resolutely entered into the task of reciting her composition. She had written a story concerning two poor children being adopted and brought up by a kind-hearted lady of fortune. Without any blundering she finished her story and sat down, feeling much relieved. She had found the task easier than she had anticipated.

The others that followed also did creditably. At the close, the superintendent gave the class a few silent words of commendation; a silent prayer followed, and the assembly was dismissed.

Other classes were to follow with like exhibitions; in the spring, this class was to give another exhibition of their skill.