23. We were in our new house.
Confined for the meantime to the bottom floor with its three big rooms, each with a heat source.
Daddy explained to Ivy and me that come Monday we would go our new school. It
was not, he said, as big as our old school. It had only one room. But the
teacher was very good and very nice. He and Mommie had met Miz Harrison. She
lived down a side road behind our property and said we were close enough to
come to her house if we needed help.
Monday Daddy drove us to the school in
the Model A. He left us to go into the school alone. Carrying our lunch pails, we entered the
school with a mixture of fear and anticipation to find the chaotic activity of
about 20 students running around the room, throwing paper balls and worse paper
wads. At the desk in the front of the room, the teacher, a young man in dungarees and a chambray shirt, sat looking on the frenzied activity but saying nothing. Pure chaos reigned that
whole day. Then without having opened a book, or written on the blackboard we
were dismissed and sent home.
So much for an elderly Miz Harrison
who would help us if we needed it.
What a relief when we discovered
that Miz Harrison was sick and the young man was Mr. Oakes, who had several
years before been one of her students and lived just down from the school. Miz
Harrison would be there tomorrow.
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