Second Grade Stories

My second grade teacher was Miss Hamblin.  I know that in my first grade blog, I said that the teachers went by their first names and most did, Miss Laverne, Miss Augusta, Miss Leona, etc. but some didn't.   So I was wrong.  I think that Miss Hamblin was the great granddaughter of a well known pioneer, Jacob Hamblin, and had many Hamblin relatives in nearby towns.  Her full name was Clara Hamblin.  I didn't remember her first name, but found it on the 1940 census.  The census says she was 30 years old in 1940 and that was the year I was in her class.  The census also says  that her  annual salary was $1,130.

Our second grade reading books were from a different series than the  Dick and Jane books.  I remember it had a monkey in it.   We also read an old fashioned second grade text book.  It had traditional stories in it such as The Gingerbread boy and another  story about a boy whose pig wouldn't jump over the stile.   The boy asked the dog, the cow, a stick, a rope and a fire to help him.  The pictures weren't even in color.  They were black and white with touches of orange.  I have never seen a "stile" in my entire life except in this book and one picture taken somewhere in Ireland or England, but the word has turned up on a few crossword puzzles. 

One of the best things I like most about Miss Hamblin's was that everyday she read to us from such books as "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" and some sequels to it, too.  I remember one of the Oz characters saying "It's getting warm, so it must be going to snow."  Then it began to snow "popcorn."  This was so surprising and magical to me that the memory is still in my head.  Sometime during second grade, I borrowed the book and read it myself, enjoying the magic all over again.

Another book that she read to us was Doctor Doolittle.  Today,  I think people would be critical of a teacher reading almost daily to a class, but I think it is wonderful because it makes you want to read things yourself.  It teaches you to listen and use your imagination to picture the story in your mind.  If she hadn't read the Wizard of Oz to the class, I would never have tried to read such a big book myself at that age.

  

Other books that I loved to read included Raggedy Ann and Andy and  the books about two sets of Swedish triplets, Snip, Snap, and Snurr, and Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.  There were many sequels to all three of these series.

 Tomorrow is going to be a solar eclipse here in Utah and that is what reminded me to include the Bobbsey Twins because the first time I had heard of solar eclipses was in a Bobbsey Twin book. I began reading this series in second grade and continued to read them in later grades.  The books were about two sets of twins in the same family, Bert and Nan, and Freddie and Flossie.  I read the first book, The Bobbsey Twins, followed by the Bobbsey Twins in the Country, the Bobbsey Twins at the Seashore and  quite a few others.  The Internet shows there were more than 20 different titles all written by the same man under the pen name of Laura Lee Hope.  Reading these books taught me a lot about different life styles, poor and rich, city and country, and mountains and seashore, as well as family interaction.  

Spelling At Age Six

Second grade is when I learned how to spell "Phoenix."  I can distinctly remember having to fill out a form and it required me to fill in my birth place. I have no idea why a six year old would be required to fill out some official form.  Most of the other children were born in Snowflake.  They knew how to spell Snowflake and so did I, but  I had no idea how to spell Phoenix.  The "ph"  and the "oe" were serious problems to me.  I probably spelled it, "Feenix" or "Feenicks."  Miss Hamblin had me erase whatever I had written and spell it correctly.  Luckily we weren't writing in ink, yet.

We had weekly spelling tests on Fridays.  Time was set aside each afternoon to study that week's spelling list.  If you were certain that you already knew the words, you were allowed to draw pictures with your crayons during the spelling practice time.   I knew that I loved drawing more that practicing my spelling words and so, one week, I didn't study them at all, feeling fairly certain that I would get them all correct.   I usually did. When the test day came, I missed one or more of the words.  The punishment for being so over-confident was that you weren't allowed to participate in the planned art project that afternoon.  Everyone in class made little log cabins except for me.  Other kids had missed spelling words, but they had studied during spelling practice time and I had not.  I guess that I learned another lesson or two, "Pride goeth before a fall." and that, "Actions have consequences."

What, No Stars?

One day Miss Hamblin asked us to draw and color an American flag on a standard size sheet of paper.  After getting all thirteen stripes colored red and white, it was time to make 48 white stars with a blue background.  I remember having a big discussion with a girl sitting next to me  about how there wasn't enough room in that corner spot to draw 48 stars with our worn down thick white crayons.  We both came to the conclusion that we would just make 48 round white dots then carefully color blue around them.   I can still remember where I was sitting when  Miss Hamblin walked over and held our flags up for the whole class to ridicule because we obviously didn't know that the flag was supposed to have stars.  To this day I don't know how any one could squeeze 48 crayon drawn stars into that little space.

 A Shameful PTA Party

U.S. Half-dollar coin-1940

One time  a few years back, I was listening to a speaker who was encouraging people to write about their lives.  She read a quote, that said you would really get to know a person if they wrote about the things they were ashamed of.    The following story came, instantly, to my mind and so I will write it for posterity.  It's the first time that I remember being ashamed.

The PTA was trying to get parents to join and said that there would be an after school party on a certain day for all the children whose parents joined the PTA.   At the end of the appointed day,  Miss Hamblin read off all the names of the children who were allowed to go to the party which was held in the auditorium.  My name was not on the list.  I couldn't believe it.  My parents always supported the PTA throughout my life and my mother later served as  the PTA president.  I don't know why they hadn't paid it.  It is possible they couldn't afford it.  Fifty cents was quite a lot of money in those days.  Ladies would clean your house all day for only a dollar.  It is, also,  possible that they just got too busy and forgot about it.   My mother had a pre-schooler and a brand new baby at home that year and my father was working out of town from Monday  through Friday, so she had all the milking and farm chores to do besides the housework required to take care of four children.  We had chores, but were too young to do most of the farm chores like milking and feeding animals.

Now comes the part I am ashamed of.   I went home from school and cried and cried about not being able to go to the party.  My mother got out a fifty cent piece and sent me back to school to pay the PTA dues.  The party was already in progress by the time I got there.  There were  no games or music--just kids sitting in chairs.   And even worse, the refreshments were minimal and bad.   I couldn't believe that I had made my mother feel sad,  just so I could attend such a dumb party.  

Drama Trauma

or

The Star of the Second Grade Play

In the spring of the year,  it was the second grade's turn to put on a program for the entire school.  Our teacher had a script for a play that gave everyone a part.  I got chosen to be the main character, Mother Goose.  The other children only had to memorize one nursery rhyme each, but a few had one or two additional lines.  I had several pages that I was to memorize. 

 My parents were taking me out of school for a few days on a trip to Phoenix.  My mother promised Miss Hamblin that I would know all the lines by the time I  returned.  I'm sure my parents had many  things to take care of on this trip.  I do remember my mother rehearsing me as we sat in the parking lot of a lettuce packing plant, but I was much more interested in watching the heads of lettuce go up the conveyor belt than I was in learning all those lines.  

 Miss Hamblin was very glad when I returned  to class, because now, she could begin rehearsals on the stage in the auditorium.  Some of the students were left in the classroom to do seat work, while several others and myself went with her to the auditorium to practice for the play.   It became obvious in just a few minutes that I didn't know all my lines.   Miss Hamblin yelled at me with a lot of cross words, and sent me back to the classroom.  I cried all the way down the hall.  When I went in the room, the other students wanted to know what happened.  I have no memory of what I told them.   This was full-blown second grade trauma.

I eventually learned my lines and can still remember standing behind the curtain waiting for it to open.  I wore a long dress and an apron.  I had a long broom to "sweep the cobwebs from the sky."  All the costumes were great, the play was a success, and, as near as I remember, no one forgot any lines.