The bell would ring when school was ore, we would Pack our satchels and head for the shore.

Rushing home we told our mother, that at school we Had other mothers. They were dressed up in black

and White, and we couldn’t tell if their hair was dark

or light.

Mother would say, it is the rule, and you must obey in the

Convent school. We would tell mother of our

school day, And laugh and giggle over things we would say. Having no janitor, or money to pay, we took turns

cleaning The classrooms each day. In summer when

school would Be out, we scrubbed and Cleaned that big school

out. With broken glass we scrapped ink stains off the

floon And kept at it till our knees were sore. We Then

put paste Wax on the floors, and with heavy mops we

shined some More. With wool socks on our feet, we slid until

those floors Squeaked. With boarders and pupils all gone

home, we left the Nuns quietly praying in their ”Convent Home.”

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