RESTATING THE CASE When we began this department, six months ago, we were full of enthusiasm. We thought that it was going to fill a real need; that thousands of travel-hungry teachers were going to rise up and call us blessed for giving them definite, concrete suggestions about where to go, how to go, and what's to pay. But, so far, we have heard from only a few who have called us blessed, or anything else.

When we stated that the department would become a clearing-house for up-to-date experiences, where letters of suggestion or inquiry about any phase of travel would be welcomed, we had visions of the letter carrier staggering into the editorial sanctum bearing extra mail bags crammed with letters for the new department.

But, so far, the letter carrier has not staggered-at least, not on our account. The question is: What's the matter with us? Let us briefly restate the purpose of the En Route Department:

This, then, will be a corner of The School Journal for

1. Accounts of travel written along the line of the instalment of Montanye Perry's interesting story below printed.

2. Short items of information as to by-points of interest, steamship service, hotel accommodations, fees, and ways and means of making travel cheaply comfortable.

3. Questions in reference to the items mentioned in number two. These inquiries we may undertake to answer ourselves or submit to our readers for suggestions and solution. In fact, in the latter way we hope to get the real meat of the matter, and thus make the department a clearing-house for up-to-date experiences. The value of this feature, when once we have the co-operation of those who know and of those who would know, will be the warrant for the word unique.

So the privilege of conducting this department for a few months, experimentally, has been given to her, and she frankly asks for your help. Your help means you, whoever you are, reading this article at the present moment. Won't you now, before you forget it or your interest lags, write her a letter, stating honestly whether you are or are not interested in the En Route Department, and giving any suggestions that may occur to you for its betterment? Criticism is as welcome as praise-only, Please Say Something.

A REAL PRIZE OFFER

Then, just to stimulate an exchange of experiences, we make a modest prize offer to the person sending in the best account of any trip taken by a group of young people with a teacher or any adult leader. The trip described may be a short one or a long one-a day at some nearby point of interest, or a week at some distant

one.

The conditions of the contest:

1. The trip described must actually have been taken.

2. The writer must state clearly Where to go -How to go-and What's to pay.

3. The story must not exceed fifteen hundred words.

4. All entries must reach the Journal office on or before December 10, 1912. Four stories will be chosen to print in the En Route Department. The writer of the one that, in the judgment of the editors, is most practically helpful in its suggestions, will receive five dollars. The writers of the other three will each receive a copy of the Autobiography of Edward A. Sheldon. All unused manuscripts will be destroyed.

Announcement of the prize winners will be made in the January issue.

All communications should be addressed,

We assume that teachers are interested in travel. We refuse to believe that we should supplement the explanatory line of our heading with "Why travel at all?" as a critic has suggested. We can only infer that we have not been working along just the right lines to arouse enthusiastic response.

Well, then, what is the right line? Montanye Perry, who is so filled with the spirit of wanderlust that her friends always think of her as either coming or going, obstinately refuses to consider the possibility of this department being a failure. Her ears still listen hopefully for words of praise; her eyes still turn expectantly toward the mail carrier.

Twenty-seventh street, New York.

REALIZING HISTORY

We

This is a story about an eighth grade teacher in a small city in the state of New York. will call her Miss Black, which is not at all like her real name. She was the conscientious, worrying type of teacher, feeling herself directly responsible for the ultimate destiny of every pupil who came into her classroom. It was a crucial time for them, she argued. The boy who passed the eighth grade either entered the high school or he left school altogether and never "did anything worth while." If the last dire fate overtook him, it was clearly her fault. So her pretty brow wore a network of wrinkles,

and her nerves responded jerkily to the innumerable small crises of the day's work.

The nerves were a trifle more unsteady than usual when Miss Dennett, teacher of the seventh grade, dropped in one afternoon, just as the eighth grade pupils were filing out.

"Mercy! You look fagged to death," she exclaimed; "first thing you know, you'll be a candidate for the sanitarium. Why don't you take things easier? What's troubling you?"

"Chiefly my history class," Miss Black sighed. "I don't know what's the matter. You know how many of my grade failed in history last year, and this year I'm afraid it's going to be worse than ever. Why didn't I specialize in mathematics? It's the only subject I can really teach."

Miss Dennett was a round-faced, red-cheeked girl, who gave no evidence of excessive sense of responsibility and resulting nerve strain. But her pupils rarely failed to pass their grade, and they adored their teacher. She glanced around She glanced around the schoolroom now, while Miss Black gathered up the inevitable papers to be corrected; one slipped away from the nervous fingers and fell at the visitor's feet. She picked it up, looking it over, hastily; then she turned amazed eyes upon her friend.

"What an astonishing array of dated facts!" she exclaimed. "Is this one day's lesson? Why, there's more dates there than I know myself. And I was just noticing the collection of historical facts on your blackboards. You seem to have adopted the principles of our friend Gradgrind: 'Nothing but facts-stick to facts.' "Well, that's all there is to history-facts and dates," replied Miss Black wearily; "I don't wonder the children detest it."

"Of course you don't understand-that's just it. Now let me tell you something: you were born and brought up right here in this town. It's a nice little town, but it has no particular historical atmosphere, has it? And you've never bothered your head with historical excursions because they didn't specially appeal to you. Now I spent my childhood in Bostona town so full of historic spots that you can't turn a corner without running into one. The air is so full of history that I just naturally absorbed it, and thrilled with it, and realized it. I don't know half as many dates as you do, but I can tell my youngsters stories that make them sit up and take notice, and they remember them, too. What you need is to realize history. the way, that's rather a neat phrase, realizing

By

history. If I only knew enough long words, I haven't a doubt that I could found a whole new pedagogical system on that phrase! But I'm going to be the humble instrument that opens your eyes. You and I will spend our Easter vacation in Boston!"

"Oh, I can't afford to do that."

"You can't afford not to; it won't be expensive. A round-trip ticket to Boston will cost about twelve dollars. We can get a good double room for five dollars a week. We'll allow a dollar a day for meals, and the rest of the expense is carfare and a few small admission fees. Thirty dollars will cover it all."

So it came to pass that one morning in early April found the two teachers starting out from their room on Huntington avenue, ready to "realize history." They had written to the Conservatory and secured the address of a student who was going home for the Easter vacation and was glad to sub-let her room in this convenient location for a week.

"In order to begin at the beginning," Miss Dennett announced, "we are going to Plymouth to-day, and we are going by boat, just as the Pilgrims did."

Down in the bottom of Miss Black's heart there had lurked a secret distrust of the beneficial results of this pilgrimage to New England. She had doubted if she would realize history when she was standing on the spot where it was made, any more than she did standing in her schoolroom. But when, after a pleasant sail through Boston Harbor and along the South Shore, they entered Plymouth Harbor and Miss Dennett said: "See that island off there? That's where the Pilgrims spent their first Sabbath," she was aware of a distinctly new sensation of interest as she leaned forward to catch a better view of Clark's Island.

"That long, flat strip of sand in front of us is Mrs. Hemans' stern and rock-bound coastshe used a bit of poetic license in describing it," Miss Dennett said. "There's Plymouth, one of the most dignified and picturesque old places in this country, and that high granite canopy in the foreground covers Plymouth Rock-the actual spot where the Pilgrims landed."

Soon they were standing beside the great rock upon which thousands of tourists gaze reverently every year. ently every year. A massive granite canopy shields it from the elements, and a fence of iron pickets protects it from the vandalism of the souvenir seeker. In the upper part of this canopy lie the bones of five of the Pilgrims who died during their first winter.

They walked to Burial Hill, the site of the ancient fort that served as a meeting-house for the Pilgrims. Here are many old slate tablets, bearing familiar names of the Pilgrims. But it was when they stood on the grassy slope of Cole's Hill, where half the Pilgrim band was buried during the first bitter months of their sojourn in the unfriendly land, that literal, matter-of-fact Miss Black caught herself humming

softly, "Land where our fathers died, Land of the Pilgrim's pride," to Miss Dennett's immense satisfaction.

A glimpse of the great National Monument, erected to the Pilgrims in 1888; a call at the courthouse, to scan the early records of the colony, and the original patent granted by the Earl of Warwick; an hour in Pilgrim Hall, stored with priceless relics of the colony's early days, and it was time for the boat to leave.

"Think of Peregrine White actually lying in that wicker cradle and kicking that hole through it with his little feet-and the very sword that Myles Standish used-and the chair that Elder Brewster sat in-I never realized before that those people were real flesh and blood folks!" said Miss Black, as they hurried down to the pier, and her companion, nodding understandingly, refrained from saying, "I told you so."

Next morning they went by trolley to Salem, and there the grim scenes of the witchcraft delusion became real to them, as they viewed the death warrants in the courthouse, looked at the witch pins carefully preserved in a glass case, and finally climbed Gallows Hill, where nineteen innocent victims met death. Returning to Town House Square, they were approached by a wizened old man who offered, "business bein' mighty dull," to take them to "all of the famousest spots, in a horse and team," for fifty cents. The offer was accepted, and a rickety cab with an ancient horse attached conveyed them through the narrow, uneven streets of the old city, while their guide's shrill voice described the places of interest.

This is Hawthorne's birthplace," he piped; "I expect you've heard of him. But you can't get into that house for love nor money-the woman that lives there says she won't run a museum for nobody. That's the room he was born in-where the white vase sets in the window. You'll see the Custom House, in a few minutes, where he wrote the Scarlet Letterever read it? And you can go in there and see a lot of relics of him if you want to-it don't cost anything. Then right down here's the House of the Seven Gables, they call it, but they's only five gables to it. This is the Charter street buryin'-ground, and it contains the only known grave of a Mayflower passenger. Now we'll go back up Essex street and I'll take you over to the North Bridge, where we resisted the British."

Marking the bridge across the North River is a granite tablet with this inscription:

In the Revolution

the first armed resistance to the royal authority was made at this bridge

26 February, 1775,

by the people of Salem.

"I thought the first fighting was at Lexing

"My dear, every town in eastern Massachusetts claims the first something-or-other of the Revolution. This, you will observe, is the first armed resistance. There was no bloodshed. The British troops were sent to seize some ammunition, the sturdy Salemites lined up to resist their advance, and a good minister of the gospel came along and settled everything amicably. To-morrow we will go to Lexington and Concord, where the first real fighting was done."

Next morning, very early, they visited the worn, low-browed house that was the home of Paul Revere. It stands in North Square, Boston, close-pressed by an Italian apartmenthouse, and not far away, on the north side of the square, is the site of the Old North Church, from the belfry tower of which, according to some authorities, Paul Revere's signal lanterns were hung. Further along, on Salem street, is Christ Church, which equally good authorities designate as the hanging-place of the famous lanterns. Then, from the corner of Park Square, they took a trolley line which follows the road taken by Paul Revere's steed when he gave the alarm "to every Middlesex village and farm." It is an hour's ride into Lexington, and the way is dotted with white tablets marking incidents of the famous retreat.

When Miss Black stood beside the boulder which marks the head of the line of Minute-men on the Green at Lexington, and read the inscription beneath the carved musket and powder horn:

"Stand your ground! Don't fire unless fired upon! But if they want to have a war, let it begin here!"

her eyes were flashing with excitement, which grew deeper as she visited the Harrington House, where brave John Harrington, wounded on the green, dragged himself to die at his wife's feet; the meeting-house; the quaint_old battle monument; the grave of Captain Parker, and the Hancock-Clark house, where Samuel Adams and John Hancock were sleeping when roused by the midnight call of Paul Revere.

"Notice that there is another first resistance monument," said Miss Dennett, when, after another hour's trolleying along a tablet-marked way, they stood beside the Battle Monument that marks the position of the British at Concord. "You see this one reads: "Here was made the first forcible resistance to British aggression.' It was here that the first of the enemy fell. Now come across the bridge and see the finest monument of them all-the Minuteman of Concord."

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood

And fired the shot heard round the world.

Miss Black read from the face of the pedestal. Then she suddenly turned to her companion.

The Point of View

Nearly one-half of the children of the United States who are attending school at all are in rural schools, and of these approximately 90 per cent are in one-room schools. Nearly one-half of the teachers of the United States are likewise in these one-room schools. Vigorous and successful efforts are being made in many parts of the country to consolidate several of these schools into one central school, and we shall have something to say from time to time regarding this movement and its importance. But consolidate as we may, and pushing it with all the vigor we may, there still will be tens of thousands of these one-room schools left. It looks as though they would always be with us, and as long as they are a part of our school system they will need the best thought and care and attention we can give them.

Question: Must the one-room school necessarily be a weak school, a school without power of inspiration, a school that cannot give adequate training to the children who attend it? Indeed not. We believe that there are tremendous possibilities in these schools, and that wide-awake teachers can do no nobler work than to devote themselves body, mind and soul to teaching in the open country. But more of this later. It is one of the most important topics before the country to-day, and there is much, very much, of a hopeful, constructive nature that can be said about it.

Everybody takes a turn nowadays at "knocking" the country school. This shows, perhaps, a commendable acquaintance with the facts of the situation, and a commendable interest in the welfare of these schools, but while we are "knocking" let us also be constructive, and point the way to better things. Mrs. Marie Turner Harvey, so well known for her work in the State Normal School at Kirksville, Mo., has had many a sharp thing to say about these schools, but always in a spirit of devotion to their interests and with a mind alert to their possibilities. And now to demonstrate the genuineness of her devotion to the cause she has left the normal school with its fine salary, and has taken a little country school at the usual meager salary, and is putting into practice what she has so long been teaching. There is a missionary for you! All honor to her name! Hers is as noble a piece of work as the history of education can furnish. She is meeting al

ready with remarkable succes, and the readers

*A part of this article is taken from the writer's Field Day and Play Picnic for Country Children.

of The School Journal are to hear more about her work as the months go on.

Consecration to this cause is worth while, for among all civilized peoples country boys and girls have proved to be the nation's most valuable asset. In America they have loomed into startling prominence. It is estimated that upward of 60 per cent of the men and women mentioned in "Who's Who" are from the rural districts. Splendid humanity has always been one of the staple products of our farm lands.

Further, a contented rural population is essential to the welfare of a nation. A nation

develops power in proportion as its people remain in contented prosperity and in large numbers on its farms. Undermine the welfare of the country districts, allow conditions of rural life to be such as to breed discontent, to drive people away; destroy or even seriously injure this great reservoir of manhood, character and patriotism, and you have a social condition far more threatening than would be the arrival of hordes of anarchists.

Unfortunately we are menaced by the very things which we dread. Nearly everywhere the rural districts are being depleted of their population. The situation has become serious. In some sections there are not enough men to exploit the natural resources of the land. Churches and schools are less well attended, grow weak and close. Things combine to work in a vicious circle; isolation and hardship drive many away, and thus isolation and hardship become intensified for those who remain. In some sections an undesirable class of farmers, some grossly immoral, are drifting in, and thus the reluctance of the older settlers to remain is increased. In such regions the environment is not the healthiest imaginable for raising children. Indeed, there are many places in the country where it is dangerous to bring up boys for they are exposed to gross vices and the tendency is distinctly downward. Many country schools, instead of being taught by men, as of old, or by vigorous women, are, as someone puts it, "at the mercy of uneducated young girls who have never been through the ninth grade." Under such circumstances schooling degenerates into a farce. For other reasons, too, many of these schools are worthless. From such conditions, the country boy who goes to the city is not likely to be as efficient as formerly, and this is a cause for genuine national alarm. Dr. Strong, writing on this subject, says: must expect the steady deterioration of our rural population unless effective preventive measures are devised. And if no new preventive measures are devised, I see no reason why iso

"We

lation, irreligion, ignorance, vice, and degradation should not increase in the country until we have a rural American peasantry, illiterate and immoral, possessing the rights of citizenship, but utterly incapable of performing or comprehending its duties."

In this situation it is important that everything be done to infuse new life and new enthusiasm into the country districts. Home, church, and school should unite intelligently to produce conditions which will make for contentment. Social forces in the country are centrifugal and expulsive; their direction is from the center outward and away; they must be made centripetal and attractive. The dominating question should not be: "How can I get away?" but "How can I make conditions such that I shall be glad to stay?"

As an aid in improving conditions, the telephone and trolley and the rural free delivery are operating favorably. The church and school are beginning to feel a new life. Economic conditions are also improving, and farm lands and crops are more valuable than ever before. Perhaps the most comfortable and prosperous class in the country to-day are the farmers. They are organizing everywhere, the most noted organization being the Grange with more than a million members. A rural literature is

rapidly developing, teeming with excellent books and magnificently edited periodicals. Most astonishing are the varied agencies which have begun to operate for a social uplift. The future is full of hope.

Of course this new life has not reached all, nor even the many. And even in the favored communities it has scarcely extended down to the children to improve their schools and give them opportunities which twentieth century children must have. Child life in the country Child life in the country is often dull and hopeless. Nearly everything conspires to drive people cityward. In this situation a rich, revitalized school life, inspired with the new outlook and the fresh ideals which modern science and invention have given the world, can work wonders, and this kind of a school we must have. It will soon be looked upon as a crime to place an untrained, city-bred teacher of immature age, in a miserable shack of a building, with a citified course of study, and call it a country school.

An Opportunity to Pass a Good Word Along

To make our columns as helpful as possible to those interested in country schools, we want to gather from teachers themselves, and from supervising officers, parents, country pastors, and others, material which will be of value for instruction, inspiration, and suggestion, and which will also serve as live matter for editorial comment.

To this end we shall welcome the names of teachers of one-room, two-room, and consolidated schools, and of any others who are doing things in school or community that are worth

want to get into communication at once with these people, to give publicity to the good things they are doing, and thus make it possible for them to extend their influence far beyond the range of their own immediate community.

We shall also welcome descriptions of worthwhile things that are being done by any teacher or in any district, along the line of (a) classroom work, (b) equipment and labor-saving devices, (c) recreation, (d) opening exercises, (e) manual and industrial arts, (f) domestic science and art, (g) nature study and agriculture, (h) social center activities, (i) parents' meetings, (j) community co-operation in behalf of better schools, (k) boys' and girls' clubs, (1) means of raising money by entertainments, etc., (m) better supervision, (n) improvement of building and grounds, (o-z) any other interesting matters.

Here is a chance to co-operate for better country schools. Will you take advantage of it? The Teacher's Kit of Tools

A carpenter who expects to do business must have his own kit of tools. He cannot depend on borrowing, and certainly the people he works for do not expect to furnish the tools. Every teacher, likewise, should have his kit of working tools, and part of his training should learning to use them with skill. consist in assembling these and, of course, in Is it not learning to use them with skill. strange that this does not seem to occur to many teachers? Many a schoolroom is dreary and uninteresting, and the work lacking in vitality and enthusiasm, simply because the teacher is not properly equipped.

Tools cost money, of course, and salaries are ity of a position, it carries with it the necessity small. Yet if a teacher accepts the responsibiloughly the duties of that position even though of being adequately equipped to perform thorthe salary be less than one thinks it should be.

Fortunately the kit is not expensive. Here is a suggestion of what a teacher may well have. In making it up it is assumed that besides the common school branches the teacher is ready to encourage the children in their art, hand-work, nature study, playground activities and other phases of work and recreation that have come to be considered as essential in a modern country school. Of course the list is incomplete, but it will at least make a good start.