SCHOOL DAYS

When I had attained the age of four-and-a-half years, it was decided that the time had arrived for me to begin acquiring an education. On a sunny September morning, Dan Darrach, a pre-teen-age neighbor, escorted me to the district school, where we. found a score or more youngsters milling about, awaiting the arrival of the teachers. Clarence Frizzell, of about my age, also made his debut this day on the stage of learning.

We quickly discovered that, before our arrival, it had been decided by the older boys that Clarence and I should begin our first day of school by fighting. ©

Now, Clarence and I hadn't the slightest trace of animosity toward each other; in fact, I don't recollect that we had ever met before. And neither of us had the least desire to fight. However, we were soon surrounded by a horde of youngsters who kept pushing us against each other, with loud yella of "Fight! Fight!" In the confusion, Clarence poked his finger into my eye; I retaliated by vigorously yanking his hair. There followed a momentary scuffle from which we backed away -- each with a bloody. nose.

At this point, Gertie Cavanagh, the primary room teacher, arrived on the scene. The fight promoters prudently scurried into the school, leaving Clarence and me to explain the situation. I suppose our explanation lacked something; after all, we had only a very blurred notion as to what had actually occurred. At any rate, she gave us a sharp lecture on the evils of brawling, after which she ordered us to wipe our noses and get into school, where she placed us side by side in the rearmost row of seats. From time to time during the next hour, she sent a sus picious glance our way to note any sign of a resumption of hostilities, but within minutes

we had forgotten all about the incident. In truth, we were so overawed by

her, and by the unfamiliar surroundings, that neither of us ventured so