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Show J)o You Remember? . . . Dv MAl'llB B1CNKDICT 0 YOU RKMEMBKK? . . . 1'liilip K. Hout'., one of the ,,er in the old sulobe school house on "Sago Creek"? My first lonelier, and even a horo in my evos. ' He was. perhaps, thirty-throe venrs old. as I first remember iiiin. Tall and blonde, having expressive ex-pressive blue eyes that could flash memory is the lack of sanitation around the school houses. Remains Re-mains of lunches were thrown about the yard, and I do not even recall a receptacle for papers and rubbish on the place. The "Chick Sale" specials were often filthy and flies swarmed around them in the fall and spring seasons. The walls were scrawled with "literature," and such verses as this: Don't steal this book For fear of shame For here you find The owner's name. And if you die The Lord will say, "Where is that book You stole away?" And if you say, "I cannot tell"- He then will cast You down to hell! Still another memory, of a Valentine Val-entine day, when we paid a whole nickle for a valentine to give to our best beau. With a fast-beating heart we tenderly proffered the lovely thing to him and do you believe it, he said, "Gee thanks, Maude; I'll take this home to Vivey!" His baby sister! Well, Alma Ostler, I think I died a little that day but here I with fire, sparkle with humor, and appear unutterably sad at times. Ho walked with long strides, and I compared him to giant in fairy tales, perhaps because of his height, and my own small stature. The idealist, scholarly, sensitively sensi-tively nervous type; his problem of teaching a whole room full of noisy pupils of all grades in school must have taxed his strength and patience to the limit. Without realizing, at the time, that these impressions were registering regis-tering in my young mind, I recall many instances and times when I sensed pity or sorrow for him; wishing I had not passed notes, whispered, or otherwise broken school rules. "Memory comes, also, of seeing a lonely man seated at his desk, after most of the pupils had at last gone home, elbows on table, holding hold-ing his head between his hands, as if he were in pain. And I can imagine he was! On trying occasions, I recall how exasperated he became, and while emphasizing his point,' in a much-deserved much-deserved lecture to us, broke rulers rul-ers and pointers over his desk, and splinters flew. Of course we giggled, gig-gled, only to make him more angry. Sometimes the entire school hid back of the school house while Mr. Houtz rang and rang the bell at recess or noon. Sworn to silence by the older pupils, we small kids trembled in fear, and crouched behind some tall students until the signal was am alive and well, which only 'shows what wonderful recuperative recuper-ative powers I possess! Do you remember? . . . P. S. Should any of the readers read-ers wish to send me their memories memor-ies of days of long ago in Spring-ville, Spring-ville, I shall be glad to give them credit for the articles submitted. I have many more memories of which to write, but there surely are some others worth mention. Address: Maude H. Benedict, 3318 Wash. Blvd, Ogden. given to rush around the house and enter. On one such occasion, Dora Waters, Wa-ters, who held the distinction of being teacher's pet, ran around front to tell Mr. Houtz, "All the kids are hiding behind the school house! " Imagine our consternation when teacher appeared bearing a long willow switch, with which he lashed us in places where it did the most good! The teachers in those early school days in Springville, and in all other small schools, were indeed in-deed heros. That they could remain re-main on duty, work so hard against so many odds and handicaps, handi-caps, was most praiseworthy. The teacher had to be first at school. Cut his own firewood, carry car-ry it in, empty ashes, build fires, and with the help of a few pupils sweep the room and dust the desks. Wood was the fuel used exclusively. ex-clusively. The huge, old, rusty, cast-iron stove stood at the west end of the adobe building, of which I write, quite near the door. Those whose seats were near it were "roasting hot," while those upfront up-front froze. Often pupils asked permission per-mission to go to the stove to get warm during school hours. No lavatory, so many unwashed hands were seen; no place to remove re-move grime, chalk, ink, or other stains. Philip Houtz was an excellent penman, and many of us were awarded beautifully written diplomas di-plomas in his shaded penmanship, for best deporment, best spelling, reading, etc. This writer received several of these, of which she is very proud. We believe they are in Mother's sacred cedar chest to this day. Not a mirror in the room; no place to leave overshoes and rubbers; rub-bers; wraps were hung along each side of the room on rows of pegs. Overshoes and rubbers often were missing, or someone had taken two for one foot. Some of us had the experience of having no overshoes at all to wear home, though they were usually in the row next morning! Not stolen, you know; just taken for a ride! Mrs. Myrtle Conover contributes contri-butes this: Memory of the teachers in Sage Creek school a Miss McCarthy and John and Andrew Morgan One thing that remains in my The writer is sorry that the old adobe school house days were not written earlier in this column, for I regret to note the death of beloved be-loved Philip Houtz two or three weeks ago. It might have pleased him to recall re-call with us those days, and to know he is so well rememhered for the hard work he did in trying to teach us, when teaching was a much harder job than it is now. (With apologies to nobody). When a man, a teacher, is so well remembered and appreciated as he was, it is a sin to omit telling tell-ing him about it. It brings to mind a little poem I wrote a year ago: "DEFERRED" Now, while I live, give me bouquets, bou-quets, While still I sense their sweet perfume. per-fume. What use the flowers I cannot see, Banked in some darkened, silent room! Hard to go on from here, because be-cause another fine teacher at the old adobe school house has passed pass-ed on, also. Ella Cedarlund, beloved of all who knew her, taught school there for several years, before Mr. Houtz and again after he taught. She was a widow with three children Arthur, Mary, and Dora Cedarlund. Mary, now Mary Mc-Callister, Mc-Callister, now lives in Ogden, and Arthur, I believe, is living at Lehi. Dora, I do not know where. Eva Johnson, daughter of Brig. Johnson, lived in Ogden for many years, but is now residing in California. Cali-fornia. Mrs. Ella Cedarlund, it will be remembered, married Brig-ham Brig-ham Johnson, and lived in Springville Spring-ville many years. She died in Ogden Og-den four years ago or more. |
