Through the school: The experiences of a mill boy in securing an education

I Appeared before the President Considerably Unnerved
THROUGH THE SCHOOL
THE EXPERIENCES OF A MILL BOY IN SECURING AN EDUCATION
BY AL PRIDDY Author of: Through the Mill: The Life of a Mill Boy
THE PILGRIM PRESS BOSTONNEW YORKCHICAGO
TO W. H. S. In the same terms and pictures I would employ were I in the cheer of his parson’s study giving my experiences by word of mouth.
THESE forty chapters of absolutely real autobiography are intended to give the reader faith in American education and to reconstruct the human struggles and tests of character which attend the progress of the poor but ambitious lads through a formal education for life.
THROUGH THE SCHOOL
THROUGH THE SCHOOL
IT was like taking off an old, worn, unadorning suit of clothes as the Boston Express whirled me away from the City of Mills. It hummed with me over the streets on which I had walked to and from work as a mill boy. It darted me past the rows of tenements where sordid and sinful memories lingered. “Thank God! Thank God!” Out and away from it all. Away from the hum, the bee-like, monotonous hum of the mill machines that overpower the nerves and dull the spirit of the workers! Away from the bells and blaring fog whistles that disturb the sleep of tired, weary, discouraged toilers; the bells and whistles that sometimes mean the jubilant clamor of the mills over their moaning, rebellious workers. Past the pale faces that waited at the crossings for the train to pass; faces whose eyes gleamed with an instant’s wish that the train had them in it, too! Yes, I was the chosen from among over twenty thousand workers that day. I was actually on my way to seek an education! There, for proof that it was no dream, was my long green ticket with its dozen coupons in my hands! There was my brand new suit-case! How lucky I was! Think of the fellows who had better mental furnishing than I, who had even money in the bank, parents who were urging them to strive for an education, friends who would loan them money, and yet, they were going to the mill at that very moment, and would go tomorrow, and the day after, because they were afraid to make the break! Then I thought: “Well, they would have made the break long ago if they had lived with an aunt and uncle who wasted their money on drink. That would frighten them into it. There’s some good in evil after all. I shouldn’t be on this train today if my foster parents had been kinder, more considerate! I guess it’d be a good thing if a few of the other mill fellows, who are ambitious, had something like it to frighten them off. It’s probably the only way they’ll go out and make their chance!”