The Moonlight School Tablets in their outer appearance were blue with red binding, the identical color scheme of the old “blue-back speller,” which, to my mind, was one of the things that made that book so popular. Its cover of heavenly blue with the rich contrasting binding of scarlet prepossessed many a beginner in its favor before they had even opened the book and peeped inside.
The tablet contained, first, a white sheet of blotting paper into which the name of the student was to be written in indented letters a number of times, that his first writing exercise might be his name, the thing which he craved most to learn. Next, there were sheets of delicate pink, violet, yellow and green blotting papers filled with sunken letters which the students traced in grooves to gain form quickly, having already acquired facility of movement in their daily duties, by constant use of fingers for manual work. In this respect they had the advantage of the child who must learn movement as well as form, from the start.
These colored sheets with their sunken letters that kept the pencil in grooves while writing had a remarkable fascination for these people, many of whose lives were devoid of color and interest. Tracing in the grooves permitted of no awkward or straggling letters, and this was most encouraging to them. The remainder of this beginner’s tablet was composed of plain, smooth paper, widely spaced, on which they wrote the script copies from the Country Life Reader.
On their pencils was printed the slogan of the Illiteracy Campaign, so even these were useful for more than one purpose. One woman wrote, “I’ve read everything in my book and even what’s printed on my pencil.”
The moonlight schools have many lessons to teach besides reading and writing. Their message is broad and deep and high. What they teach is fittingly expressed in this poem of L. H. Bailey’s:
I teach
The earth and soil
To them that toil;
The hill and fen