SOME SCHOOL 'HOWLERS'.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 173, 12 May 1916, Page 2 (Supplement)

SOME SCHOOL 'HOWLERS'.

We are always learning. Old subjects arc always having fresh light shed upon them. It is thus that tnis old world keeps fresh. The following are not giv-t-i as solutions of those old problems, they are only rays of light, radiant with fun. Here ire some examples:—

OF COURSE IT WAS THE BABY. In the following instance the teacher did not reckon on tin 1 new light, doubt less as the result of direct observation, on the part of one of his scholars : —The teacher was very earnest. Far mora so than his pupils, and the subject ho ehoso was about the terrible outcome of laziness and idleness, rt'ith due .olemrity, as befitted the occasion, ne drew a terrible picture of the habitual loafer, the man who dislikes work, anl v ho bct;s for all ho gets. "Now. Charlie," said the teacher to a little boy w'm baa been looking out of tlv.j window of attending to the lesson. Charlie was instantly on the alert. "Tell me," cn. tinued the teacher, uho is the miser able individual who <_its clothes, foci, and lodging, and vet e'ees nothi ij; in return?" Charlie's face luightoned.

"Please, sir," said he, "the baby." As touching the oid subject of arithmetic, we used to be taught that it takes a lesser number to go into a larger one. Here is new light on that matter :-»-A teacher was examining a class of small boys in arithmetic. Addressing a particularly smart boy, she asked, "Can live go into oner" "Yes," tame the answer at once. "You stupid boy !" she said, "how do you make that out?" "Please, ma'am," ho said, "I put five toes into one stocking this morning!"

HE WOULD NEED IT. This was a Sunday school, and the old subject of crowns in Heaven was under review. The Sunday school teacher had been telling her class of little boys about crowns of glory and heavenly rewards for good people. "Now tell me," she said at the close of the lesson, "who will get the big gest crown?" There was silence for a minute or two, then a bright little chap piped out, "Him wet's got t' biggest 'cad.' - A Sunday School teacher on asking a question about Esau. She had just finished reading to the class about Isaac, Esau, and Jacob. "Now, Johnnie," she asked, "who was Jacob?" Johnnie knew the story well, and im mediately answered —"Jacob was the younger son of Isaac and Rebecca and the favourite of his mother." "Cor rect," answered the teacher. "Now, Bennie," she said to a boy on the hack seat, who had not been paying the slightest attention to her, "who was Esau?" After thinking a moment Bennie replied—"He was the man who ■wrote '.Esop's Fables,' and sold Ins copyright for a bottle of potash.'

MRS. BRUCE, OF COURSE

Brucc's mother was the subject, and a scholar shed new light upon history in answering a question as to who was the mother of Robert Bruce, in this wise._ The inspector was examining a class of boys, and they bad been specially told beforehand by their master, "Don't answer unless you are almost certain you are right.' "Now, tell me," said '.he inspector, "who was the mother of our great Scottish hero, Robert Bruce?" He pointed to the top hoy, then round the class. Titer was no answer. Then, at last, the heart of the teacher of that class leapt with joy. The boy who was sitting at the very foot held up his hand. " Well, my boy,'' said the inspector, encouragingly, "who was she?" "Please, sir, Mrs. Bruce!'' Whether the term "the lap of luxury'' had been ever known to them or not, the smallest boy in the class threw a ray of light on the subject in this way:—" What is mean by the lap of luxury?" asked a teacher of a class of little boys. "Please, ma'am, 1 know," exclaimed the smallest ol the lot.

•• Well, what is it, Willie?" Inquired the teacher, kindly. "It's when the cat steals into the larder and licks the cream of the milk," responded the little fellow. And the teacher, on reflection, wasn't quite sure that her pupil was wrong. A new version of "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap," was given in a certain Sunday School by a bright scholar. The teacher was endeavouring to explain that a man could not expect to reap if he nevor took the trouble to sow. "But what he does sow ho will reap." he continued. "To make matters plainer, 1 will ask you a question. If 1 planted turnip seed, what do you think 1 should get?" " Turnips!" shouted several. "'Right," said the teacher. "But it doairt alius come off," put in one precocious youth. "It didn't wi' neighbour Wilson." " Indeed!'' remarked the teacher. "Yes," went on the bright scholar. " 'E sowed some taters a little while ago, but 'e ain't reaped none." "Well, perhaps he's gathered them?" "No, e ain t gathered 'em." "Well, dug them up, then?" ".No, nor dug 'em up nay tiiiir." "Oh, 1 set-." smiled the teacher. ••The potatoes are not ready yet!- He Will gather them by and by." "No, I doan't think as 'e will," persisted the scholar. "Why?" asked the puzzled teacher. "Why, vor see," responded the other calmly, we gathered 'em when he was in town, the day before ho was going to do it." Daisy's ideas of the Bible were very literal. This was the kind of now light she shod upon the "promised land flowing w:+h milk and honey":— "Daisy," remarked her Sunday school teacher, "don't love your cat too much. What would you do if it died? You wouldn't see it "again." "Oh, yes, teacher; I should see it in heaven." "No, dear, von're mistaken; animals cannot go to heaven like peaple." Daisy's eyes Idled witli tears, but suddenly she exclaimed triumphantly, " Animals do go to heaven, for the Zible says the promised lan dis How nig with milk and honey, and, it there are no animals, where do they get the milk?''

FUTURE, PRESENT, AND PAST. Thin was the new light cast upon a lecture on "Phases ol Human Life — Youth, .Manhood, and Age" : youth we look forward to the wicked things we will do when we grow up—this is t! e state of innocence. In man hood we do the wicked things of which we thought iu our youth -this is called the prime of life. In old age we are sorry for the wicked things we did in manhood- this is the time ot our dotage." In this instance both teacher and

scholar were at one :—" Twelve pence one shilling," said the school teacher. "Now, go on, 'twenty shiihngs make one' - what -'' " They make one mighty glad these times," replied the hoy, and the teacher, who hadn't got his last month's salarv, concluded the hoy was right. the teacher had just been giving 'i lesson on conscience, after relating one of his experiences where conscience heacted on him, and one of the smartest hoys in the class stood up, and sa\! that he had had a s.niilar experience. "All right," said the teacher, "tell it tn the class." "About six months ago I was going on an errand when I nine to a magnificent hoot shop, and hang

ing outside the shop vraauyfovcly pair of hob-nailed boots, niarCvd four aiid elevenpence. 1 was Mist iibotxt to steal those boots when something fceented to hold me back." "Yes, my lad," *a:d the teacher, ''that was your conscience." "No, it wasn't," said the lad. "1 saw a bettor pair marked ten and sixpence, »io I took those." NOT THE SAME. It was an "opon" day in the Sunday School, and on such occasions a stranger, gave an address. The speaker was a cotton millworker. "I am reminded, children," said he, "of the career of a boy who was no bigger than some of the little boys 1 s» before me. He played truant when he was sent to school, went fishing every Sunday, ran away from home when he was eleven years old, learned to drink, smoke a pipe, and play cards. He went into bad company, frequented music halls and low concert rooms, finally became a pickpocket, then a forger, and one day in a drunken fit, he committed a murder. "Children,'' he continued impressively, "where do you think that boy is now?" He stands before us!" cried the children a3 with ono voice, to the utter discomfiture of the lecturer.

It is not often that a school inspector allo/.s a class to put questions to him. One who did it got some fresh light on his duty in regard to the war :—He did not look beyond military age. "Now, boys," lie said, "don't be shy; it's your turn now. Ask me any question you like on any subject you like and if I can I'll answer it." After hesitating a small but courageous boy held up his hand and blurted out, "Why are you not in khaki?"

"I'VE GOT FOURTEEN MYSELF."

"Sonny," said a small boy's father, "how are yon getting on at your new school?" "Very well, dad," said the boy. "Well, I shall come down and see you in your new home one day," remarked the father. "Well, if you do," said the hoy, "you must remember wo have numbers; nt this school instead of names; I'm thirty-one." The nest morning the father went down and knocked at the schoolhousa door, and when the schoolmaster opened it he said: —"I've come to have a look at my boy : I'm the father of thirty one." "Come inside," said the schoolmaster sympathetically. I've got fourteen myself. I'd like you to have a few moro prospectuses of my establishment. We take hem in at all ages." The scholars had just left school after a lesson in English. An English boy and a Scotch hoy had a discussion thereafter on the relative merits of Shakespeare and Hums. This was the manner in which the young Scotsman shed new light on the old subject: — "Ye think a line lot of Shakespeare?" "I do," was the reply. "An' ye think he was mair clever than Rabbie Burns-" "Why, there's no comparison between them." "Maybe, no; but ye tell us it was Shakosj>oaro who wrote, 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.' Now, Uabbie would never line written sic nonsense as that." "Nonsense, dj you say!" thundered the other. "A'jr,,)ust nonsense. Rabbie would hae kent fine that a king, or queen either, clisna gang to bed wi' the croon on their head. He'd have kent they hang it ower the back o' a chair!"