If there was a little more snow you tried to
wash the girls' faces in it, and sometimes got yours washed. If
there was a good deal of wet snow you had a snowball fight, which
is great fun, unless you get one right smack dab in your ear - oh,
but I can't begin to tell you all the fun there is at the noon hour
in the country school, that the town children don't know anything
about. And when it was time for school to "take up," there wasn't
any forming in line, with a monitor to run tell teacher who
snatched off Joseph Humphreys' cap and flung it far away, so he had
to get out of the line, and who did this, and who did that - no
penitentiary business at all. Teacher tapped on the window with a
ruler, and the boys and girls came in, red-faced and puffing,
careering through the aisles, knocking things off the desks with
many a burlesque, "oh, exCUSE me!" and falling into their seats,
bursting into sniggers, they didn't know what at. They had an hour
and a half nooning. Counting that it took five minutes to shovel
down even grandma's beautiful "piece," that left an hour and
twenty-five minutes for roaring, romping play. If you want to know,
I think that is fully as educational and a far better preparation
for life than sitting still with your nose stuck in a book.
In the city schools they don't think so.
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