THE OLD SCHOOL

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 2, 3 January 1931, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE OLD SCHOOL

PROGRESS AND A MEMORY.

EFFORT FOR EDUCATION

(By M.E.S.),

I Last week the new school was officially opened. It was a festive occasion, and the district turned out loyally, f They were all there, smiling determinedly 3 and refusing to think of the slump. > There was our local M.P.. whose beam- • ing countenance discreetly accepted no 1 small share of the glory; there'was the > chairman of our county council, pleasantly reminiscent and inclined to stray ; to roads and bridges, and there was our ' youn« teacher, who bears the backblocks quite, pleasantly, provided only that his car is garaged at the school gates and that the road to freedom is open and well metalled. We drove up in our cars, our collars immaculately starched, our chins smoothly shaven; and 1 , if our Sunday suits reeked somewhat of camphor, why, 'tis the true aroma of every backblocks festivity. Across the Years. ' Perhaps it was the camphor that did it, for after all there's nothing like nose to take one back across the yearsHowever that may be, standing there in the hot, bright sunlight, blinking at the newly-painted building, dazzled bv the rows of neat-clad children —suddenly I lost the thread of the member's speech, the brightly prosperous' scene was gone, those clean and shining children had vanished into the limbo of the unborn. And there it was once more, bleak, nnpainted, set awry upon a barren piece of unwanted ground, its two uncurtained windows staring in brow-less surprise at its own dignity—that first school so slowly and painfully built by the settlers, so scorned by our local magnates today. Yet we had been proud of it once, perhaps because it stood for so many hours of toil, so many shillings hard-earned and sorely spared, so many little privations and deep-buried hopes and ambitions. Twenty years ago we had had only a "household school"—one of those difficult affairs in which the teacher hovers uncertain between the position of pedagogue and that of companion-lady-help to the lady of strongest personality in the district. Then our numbers had increased. : There was a hope : —if Mrs. Brown could be persuaded to send Emma, and if we could all contri- j bute enough . clothing to allow Hori; Whanga to attend in decency—of twelve! pupils. This meant —we spoke with bated | breath—that we should be a First Grade' School. But —there must be a.building, j "Should the settlers decide to provide a building, the Education Board will .consider the appointment of a ■thus the fiat read. " k ~

And so the great idea was born. "Let's get together and build a school." "Get together!" the good old term for the good old custom. We are more pros- , perous to-day; we have our cars and the telephone, and new settlers have, come; but we don't "get together" so much, or so happily. On this occasion we held a long, interminable meeting; beginning about seven, it continued till midnight. We had not many chances of a good gossip and a talk about prices in those days; some of us had ridden for ten miles through mud and slush; why not make a night of 'it? By the time we were we knew all each other's news, and the great question was decided. It was the slack winter season, so in a fortnight's time we were to "down tools," get, together, and start. Building a School. It was an epic achievement. 1 The crossroads section that we chose blossomed over-night into a rough encampment, for the more distant of us brought our tents and lived on the spot. The timber was felled from the bush near-by and pit-sawn—-great rimus for the most part, with a totara for the blocks and a good matai for the flooring. The quiet bush re-echoed day'by day to the sound of our eager axes and the steady droning of our saws. Before the winter was over the building was up and our hands had gone deep into our rather empty pockets for the money for iron and windows. So we finished it; but there was no money to be spent on concrete paths, and we were thankful when Peter Dixon presented us with a tiny' stove that his aunt had sent him, and with which he had quarrelled irrevocably the first night. The skeleton was there, but there was much yet to buy, furnishings and finishings and a thousand unconsidered but expensive trifles, before we could say to the Education.Board, "We've done our part; what about you?" To complete the good work we began a series of "socials" held in the new h UI I ?P Aif e^ ts a doling, ladies a basket. Ah, those were the days! How eagerly we rode over miles of road, some on rough hill ponies, some°on unshod draughts, a fair sprinkling of the women enthroned on sledges, skirts tucked well up, baskets and ' babies clasped tight. How they turned out! Cards till, eleven, then supper, then a a dance on the laboriously planed floor. Relentlessly the programme ran its full course; euchre and five hundred, 1 with a sly game of poker at the bachelors' table in the corner; then the • brewing of two great kerosene tins of ' tea upon the fire outside and the hand- : ing round of innumerable ham sandwiches, "kisses" and "sponges." After that the floor was cleared and youth had its fling;' a dozen waltzes, half as many lancers, a polka or two, and a mazurka, and, for the old fogeys, a barndance (but the youngsters smiled a little scornfully at that)—and then the slbw daylight was filtering through the bare windows, and it was light enough to catch horses, harness sledges, and so to the fcoraswatrd road.-

The Opening. When at last the first teacher was duly appointed, the whole district was tip-toe with excitement about "the opening." We could not ask our M.P. to struggle through forty miles of clay roads to attend the function; besides, what knew he of our struggles and our achievement? No, our oldest settler turned the key; she was ninety-one and could tell rare tales of the Maori wars, with a tribute to Sir George Grey and many a sly dig at the Imperial troops, she had missed few of our social evenings, and she flung open, the door with a flourish, then picked up her ample skints and waltzed round the floor in the arms of her grandson. The '-new teacher looked on round-eyed; but she was young and pretty, and took to the lire so well that in six months she had married our most eligible bachelor. It was a happy little school and has proved vastly successful. Has it not had four "proficiencies" to its credit-in the last seven years? True, there were setbacks; there was that first visit of an inspector, when he had pronounced the building too dark; there must be another window. That meant two more socials—not that we minded that; it was the criticism that hurt. We old fogeys had grown to love the school, for had it not seen the first struggles and ultimate triumphs of our children ? Had not this rough playground been trodden by bare brown feet that haves long since wajked other roads? But the little school had stood for much — for struggle and achievement, for good comradeship, for laughter and tears —. The applause roused me and I was in time to hear the member's closing words, "When I look across the road, ladies and gentlemen, at that old and derelict shanty that was once your school, and then when I gaze at this fine edifice that the Education Department has provided, free of all cost or effort on the part of the settlers —then I feel that I may indeed congratulate the country, and the district, upon its splendid progress." Progress? Ah, yes, I suppose so—.