There have been great teachers who could not teach. Nevertheless they were great teachers because a virtue went out from them which touched the lives of their pupils and was better than all instruction.
There have been great instructors who could not be respected, because along with intellectual brilliancy and clearness went a narrow, or a low, or a selfish outlook on life.
Mr. Putney measured up in both respects—he was a large-minded man, he was a great teacher.
The very nature of his profession precluded any wide or ringing fame. His work was done quietly, unobtrusively, one might almost say, obscurely. A teacher's work is always so.
His memory rests with us who knew him, but with us it is very secure.
It is the memory of a man whom we could respect without coldness, and love without making allowances.—Burlington High School Register.
In these days when the so-called practical side of life has seemed to crowd out the humanities, so that in many schools Latin and Greek are not included in the curriculum, Mr. Putney has held high the torch of classical learning. To him much credit should be given for keeping alive a real interest in Greek, and for giving thorough and inspiring work in Latin.
Moreover, in all school relations Mr. Putney has been not only ready but glad to co-operate. Whether for a social gathering of the teachers requiring a tax, for tickets to the many ball games, or for Thanksgiving baskets to be filled, Mr. Putney's purse was always open. Not many, indeed, know how often he overpaid his subscription so as to be sure to do his part.
But, of course, it is the personality of Mr. Putney, so elusive and yet so real, that has impressed us all. In the hurry and rush of modern days, he never failed to be truly kind, to be warmly sympathetic, and at all times to be wholly unselfish. So with the poet we say,