The instruction she gave them in the rudiments of arithmetic was intimately connected with the realities of life. She taught them to count the number of steps from one end of the room to the other; and two of the rows of five panes each, in one of the windows, gave her an opportunity to unfold the decimal relations of numbers. She also made them count their threads while spinning, and the number of turns on the reel, when they wound the yarn into skeins. Above all, in every occupation of life she taught them an accurate and intelligent observation of common objects and the forces of nature.
All that Gertrude's children knew, they knew so thoroughly that they were able to teach it to the younger ones; and this they often begged permission to do. On this day, while the visitors were present, Jones sat with each arm around the neck of a smaller child, and made the little ones pronounce the syllables of the A-B-C book after him; while Lizzie placed herself with her wheel between two of the others, and while all three spun, taught them the words of a hymn with the utmost patience.
When the guests took their departure, they told Gertrude they would come again on the morrow. "Why?" she returned. "You will only see the same thing over again." But Glulphi said: "That is the best praise you could possibly give yourself." Gertrude blushed at this compliment, and stood confused when the gentlemen kindly pressed her hand in taking leave.
The three could not sufficiently admire what they had seen at the mason's house, and Glulphi was so overcome by the powerful impression made upon him, that he longed to be alone and seek counsel of his own thoughts. He hastened to his room, and as he crossed the threshold, the words broke from his lips: "I must be schoolmaster in Bonnal!" All night visions of Gertrude's schoolroom floated through his mind, and he only fell asleep toward morning. Before his eyes were fairly open, he murmured: "I will be schoolmaster!"—and hastened to Arner to acquaint him with his resolution.
—Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi.
"Leonard and Gertrude" (D. C. Heath & Co.).
Lawin-Lawinan
In the beautiful town of Santa Maria, children were very fond of playing many curious games. Not a single day or moonlight evening could pass without one's seeing some children playing along the wide streets.
One bright evening in the month of July, after the angelus bell rang, Mapacla, in company with some playmates, went to Zandoval Street, where many children were romping. When they reached the place, they agreed to play Lawin-lawinan. Mapacla was chosen by all to be the sisiw (chicken), and a playmate, Malacas by name, to be the lawin (hawk). The chicken and the hawk were the principal characters of the game. The rest of the children formed a circle: each one with outstretched arms held the hand of the one next him till the circle was formed. The space between each two children was called the door, the owners of which were the children by whom it was formed. The chicken stood inside the circle, and the hawk stood outside.
The game was then begun. The hawk went to the first door, asking, "What door is this?"