Faint memories of the place returned to me as we walked among the old buildings. A strip of unspun wool. . . a stern-faced teacher at the school house. . . the smell of wood chips and horses. . . What impressions will my children take with them? Gabriel was both terrified by the grinding machinery, while delighted by the grunting piglets. Elijah seemed pleased with his renegade stroll through a garden of head-high plants. Caelah was quite taken with the tinsmith, but may be haunted by her session at the school house:"And for those of you who do not seem to be reformed by milder punishments..."
{said the teacher, as she smacked a thick piece of leather repeatedly into her palm.}
Caelah {Wide-eyed}:
"Will this be what school is like for me next year?"
"Will this be what school is like for me next year?"
No, my dear. Things have swung, drastically, in the other direction these past few decades.
*See S-209 HERE*
*See S-209 HERE*
