School! Could this be school? Not school as they recalled it, hours of dull monotonous tasks, where punishment, merited or unmerited, stood out in conspicuous boldness. As they now listened, every moment seemed to open the door to knowledge, and a wonderland of surprising interest spread before them. The dull drone of the old-time reading lesson had given place to conversational tones. The children were reading aloud from a bright, vivacious story that caught and held the attention of these untutored girls. To learn to read like the teacher became the proud ambition of these seven visitors.
With a simple lesson in physics the interest deepened. Then came the lesson in manual training. The deft fingers of the boys and girls were busy learning the mysteries of tailoring. How to darn a rent in cloth is no easy thing for untrained fingers to learn. Little fingers, big fingers, busily plied the needle. The boys were learning how to repair their clothing. The teacher passed from one to another, helping, encouraging, commending. She held up a beautiful piece of work for the visitors to see.
When the school was dismissed for the noon hour, they gathered around Esther.
"My!" said one, "I wisht I knowed as much as you do, schoolma'am."
"Do you?" asked the teacher, as if to know as much as she did were the easiest thing in the world.
"You bet I do!" answered the girl.
"Schoolma'am," asked Jessie Roth, "do ye s'pose ye could learn us tae read as good as them kids did this mornin'?"
"Oh, yes. Even better."
"Better nor them?"
"Indeed, yes, if you will study as hard as they do. One's progress depends upon one's interest and one's application."