MY guide led me to the little bed that was to be mine and told me that the contents of the small parcel I carried were to to be neatly packed into the green painted locker that stood by its side, and then left me to chat with some of her friends, who were at that moment entering the room, which I soon after found to be one of the larger dormitories, in which nearly forty girls slept. The room was filling fast, all the old scholars seemed to know each other, and a great deal of laughing and talking was going on. One girl who had been to a real party was giving her friends a very lively account of the pleasures of the evening, and was, I could not help noticing, an object of admiration, almost of envy, to those who had been less favored than herself.
No one spoke to or took any notice of me, and as I stood by my locker trying in a sort of dreamy way to put my brush and comb bag and a few other things into it, I felt a very sad and lonely little girl, and it was as much as I could do to keep back a few tears that seemed just ready to fall. I do not know how long I stood there, when I heard some one calling my name. It was a servant who had been sent to take me to the housekeeper's room. I little guessed what a delightful surprise was waiting for me there. A box which I was to be allowed to open had just been left for me. I could not remember ever having had a parcel or even a letter addressed to me before, and for the next half-hour I felt quite grown-up. I had quite a battle with string and paper wrappings, the lid was removed, and I lifted out a lovely doll, almost as large as a real baby, sent and dressed by Miss May, who said in a kind note, read to me by the housekeeper, she thought her little friend might feel lonely on her first day at school.
I was then told that the tea-bell would ring in a few minutes; but as school would not begin till the following morning, we should, after prayers, be allowed to play till bed-time; and I might take my waxen baby into the schoolroom and make friends with some of the girls. At the sound of a bell nearly eighty girls trooped into the dining-hall, the newcomers being led to their places by old pupils. Grace was sung and we drank our mugs of tea and ate our bread and butter in silence. Prayers were read before we left the hall. I was again led to the schoolroom, and the news that I had a large doll having spread quickly, several of the younger girls came to me and were made happy by being allowed to nurse and play with it.
“Early to bed and early to rise" was one of our school rules, and did us good, I believe, in more ways than one. When the great clock in the hall struck nine every girl was expected to be in bed, and talking, or going from bed to bed, was forbidden. I do not think I slept much the first night, everything was so new and strange to me.
We rose early, and by half-past seven we had assembled in the hall for prayers, followed by breakfast. We then made our beds, did some dusting, or helped the servants till nine o'clock, when the bell rang for school. Perhaps you would like to know something about the books we used and the lessons we learned. The dotted system called Braille, now so largely used in the education of the blind, had not been introduced into England, though I have since heard that even a few who did not grudge time spent, or trouble taken, if others were to be served or helped, were even then working at, and trying to perfect the system and adapt it to the languages of France and Belgium.
All our school-books were embossed in what was, and is called, Dr. Moon's type. Printed books would have been of no use to us, as one of the conditions required for the admission of a pupil to "St. George's" was the possession of a certificate from some doctor stating that owing either to the total loss of or very defective sight, he or she could not be taught to read and write in the same way as seeing children.
In the place of slates and copy-books most of the elder scholars had what was called an "Alstone frame." For many years I myself used one, still I am afraid I shall not find it easy to describe. It is made of polished wood, and can be opened, like the leaves of a book. A sheet of thin writing-paper is then placed in the required position, and the frame closed. The upper side is divided into cells, just large enough to admit a single letter. Our type box, or case, was something like that of a printer's, the letters being formed by short lengths of very stout wire being fixed firmly into small blocks of very hard wood. Taking up the required letter, it was placed in a cell, and by applying a slight pressure, the wire points perforated the paper. The letters were all Roman capitals, and we liked this method of writing, because it enabled us to correspond with our seeing friends.
We worked sums upon boards drilled with small holes, fitted with pegs, the metal heads of which represented different numbers, according to the way in which they were turned. We were taught geography by the use of raised maps. Needlework and knitting were afternoon occupations, and some of the girls knitted really beautiful lace, or shawls in the finest and softest wool that could be bought. Twice a week we had a singing lesson, and as my voice again attracted attention, I was told that I had been one chosen to sing in the choir of the church we attended on Sundays; but before I could be admitted to it, a long lesson must be learned, the whole of the Book of Psalms, one hundred and fifty in number, committed to memory. I was to attend the "practice class" for an hour daily for the purpose of learning and repeating some verses every day. I set to work with a will, and though at the time I understood very little of the meaning or beauty of my wonderful lesson-book, I have often been thankful in later years that my mind was stored with so large a portion of the word of God. When trials have gathered thickly around me the Holy Spirit has often brought to my mind some long familiar passage such as "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want"; it has flashed into my mind, and brought with it an untold flood of joy and comfort, and the answer of my soul has been, "What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.”
Trades, by which it was hoped that some at least of our number would be able after leaving school to obtain a livelihood, were also taught. The boys had a good-sized workshop in which they made mats and the coarser kind of baskets and brushes, fancy work-baskets, hair and clothes-brushes being generally made by the girls.
But I do not want you to suppose that it was "all work and no play." We had games in the playground in fine weather, and when our weekly half-holiday proved wet, we were allowed to amuse ourselves in the schoolroom. I think we enjoyed "recreation" as thoroughly as any party of school-girls could. We were fond of skipping in the rope, and I soon gained a reputation for being good at this game, for though I could not see when the rope touched the ground, I could hear, and a naturally correct ear for time seemed to suggest the right moment at which to jump. But some of our amusements were more ambitious. We gave parties with a set of doll's tea things, a birthday present to one of the girls, and though the dainties of which we invited each other to partake were more often than not make-believes, still we enjoyed the fun as we visited our friends and partook of afternoon tea in different corners of the schoolroom.
We got up exhibitions, too, but I cannot say that our exhibits were either numerous or varied. About half a dozen dolls, a box of toys, one or two puzzle maps, a very pretty shell necklace brought from abroad and given to one of the girls by her sailor uncle, with a few other odds and ends, are all I can remember. We spent a good deal of time and thought in laying out the stalls, as we called the schoolroom desks. I had nothing to display, but was often called upon to sing or recite to the amusement of our visitors, girls who did not exhibit, but who generally came by what we dignified with the name of private invitations.
On the whole we were, a happy party, our teachers were kind, and our food, though plain, was plentiful. Now and then a girl came who did not take kindly to school life. I remember one, a Scotch lassie, who could not, or would not, make herself happy and contented in our midst. For the six or seven weeks she remained she did little but cry and beg to go back to "bonnie Scotland." Our teachers did all they possibly could to reconcile her to school life, and asked us to be very kind to her. But all attempts failed: she would not eat, and got so weak and low that at last it was decided to write to her friends, and advise her return home. One day, to her great delight, her brother arrived to take her back to the land of her birth. I think you will agree with me in saying that she was a foolish girl to miss the opportunity of gaining an education that would have been of such use to her in after life. Let us be careful to use our opportunities to the best advantage. Once lost will never come our way again.