Chapter XL

In the early days, too, reading matter was sadly needed. Only a few workers took a magazine of any kind. A bright idea came to us which gained ground rapidly. "Why not have a club, each member to take one publication?" "Why not write to an agency for prices and have all the magazines sent to one address?" Soon our lists came and it was surprising how many magazines and papers we could order. Each member agreed to pay two dollars, hardly the price of a single subscription. A code of rules submitted to Colonel Hicks for approval was pronounced satisfactory and the club was formed at once, proving most enjoyable and so beneficial that it was continued year after year. "We read our two dollars' worth in a week's time," was often remarked. Rules were posted in the reading rooms and magazines were available at all times. Teachers took copies to classes and to cottages to read to pupils at night. Club members enjoyed selecting subscriptions and discarding some each year. We all had a voice in the meetings and Colonel Hicks and later Mr. Brown were glad to have the members manage their own club. The older pupils were allowed to use the magazines in certain hours, if they kept the same rules. We had very little trouble with this arrangement, as no reading matter was given to the cottages up to this time. A note in the annual of 1915 reads, "The numerous magazines and periodicals furnished by a club of workers formed eight years ago are now considered quite indispensable."

Chapter XLI

Listening to the morning devotions over the radio a short time ago, I heard the choir sing that beautiful hymn, "Peace, Peace." At once my mind went back to the morning at Oxford. I could see Ethel, Colonel Hicks' grand-daughter, at the piano starting the music and all of us singing: "Peace, peace, wonderful peace, Corning down from the Father above

Chapter XLII

 The spirit of giving was encouraged at the orphanage. Where everything needful came with no effort on their part, children in institutions often developed narrow, selfish tendencies, therefore each year we made a practice of taking a collection at Thanksgiving time for some charitable purpose. At church services they were encouraged to give occasionally, according to their means, sometimes only a penny. Letters from the China Inland Mission thanking the children for their contributions, were very much enjoyed.

Chapter XLIII

Bible Band meetings were held every two weeks, the Superintendent of the Sunday School taking charge. Chapters from the Bible were learned---a few verses were given out at each meeting to be recited in concert at the next meeting, until a whole chapter was learned. Many children will remember to this day, Psalms and chapters learned during Colonel Hicks' and Mr. Brown's administrations. I remember a young man telling me that while in college a certain professor assigned to the class the thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians to commit to memory for the next day. As it happened this young man was called upon to recite, but not having paid attention to the assignment he was at a loss as to what chapter it was. "What chapter was it, professor?" he said. Upon being told, he at once started and gave the entire chapter to the amazement of all the class. At its close the instructor said, "I would very much like to know where you learned this." "At the Oxford Orphanage," the student replied.

Chapter XLIV

I wonder if any child remembers the old entrances to the main building on the North and South ends before the wide porches were added, also the great big rock at the North end serving as a stepping-stone up which we climbed to unlock the narrow door to the office on cold winter mornings. The South end was much warmer, there was the printing office with shoe shop overhead. Then on cold wintry nights we fastened the door and groped our way to the cottages. What a relief when Colonel Hicks decided to have wide porches built across the front and both ends with wide, inviting doors. Here we could rest between times and enjoy the views. It was from these porches that we first noticed the glorious sunsets for which Oxford was and is famous. Often the sky was ablaze with a glory of colors that seemed too beautiful for earth. I sometimes wondered if Heaven could be more beautiful. The children learned to -enjoy them also and often came to the office, saying, "Miss Bemis, have you seen the sunset tonight? Come out and see it."

Chapter XLV

The twenty-four or thirty small girls who waited on tables in the dining rooms, washed the dishes and reset the tables, had many good times together. The land sloped at back of the building and the icy path was too tempting for the adventurous ones as they emptied their big dishpans at the water holes, so under cover of darkness they used their pans for toboggans and had a few slides before discovered by the matron, who laughed in spite of herself, yet thereafter had them stand holding their pans until all were ready to leave for the night. One day Mary started to go to the bake room without permission, the door being locked, she took a stepladder to open the transom. With head well inside she heard Miss Hogan coming, too late to retreat, she slipped in balancing on transom and fell over into a trough of dough set to rise. The girl rose quickly, the dough clinging to head and shoulders. Mortified and helpless Mary crept upstairs to show herself to the others, who considered she had been served right and enjoyed her confusion and especially her appearance.

Chapter XLVI

Children who came to the office with complaints or were sent there for some misdemeanor were often confusing, especially as we were very busy with other work and saw no end in sight. The office was usually crowded with matrons or teachers for consultation and children on regular errands. We thought of "Job" again. A glance at the stepladder suggested a resting place until we cooled off, "Just take a seat on the stepladder. I'll see you later," I said. The ladder was of medium height and all the occupant had to do was to sit quietly and watch the scene below. This proved a successful punishment, although not intended as such. It relieved us of the sight of the individual who was always underfoot and gave us time to collect our thoughts. When called down, he was usually quite normal and ready to promise good behavior. We hadn't disturbed him in any way, everyone was busy all about him while he had a seat on the top of the ladder and had been facing the good-natured questioning look bestowed upon him as children passed in and out. Some who would have entered, seeing the ladder occupied often forgot their grievances and left. We found out the children's reaction to this method when one boy said to another, "I wouldn't do that." "Yes, you would," replied the second boy, "if you had to sit on the stepladder." Troubles and wayward tendencies seemed to come in waves usually when morals were at lowest ebb at certain seasons of the year and possibly when "grown ups" saw too many things. Teachers and matrons felt they must have advice on some unsatisfactory child. We found good, sensible, quiet talks were most effective for those who were inclined to be reasonable, but for some who had never learned to obey and had no desire to heed advice, an hour or two in bed or a chair to sit on at a cottage would sometimes bring them to terms. Some of our talks with wayward pupils were sharp, straight talks. "You may think I am severe," I would say, "but I want you to know what such conduct will lead to if you continue as you have begun. You may not thank me now, I'm not working to be popular-but some time you will be glad. I don't want you in years to come to have a chance to say, Miss Bemis knew, she should have warned me." Environment is not all that is necessary in training. Hereditary traits crop out when least expected. A boy bent on mischief could easily collect a following, make plans so secretly that days and weeks might pass before a word would be dropped. At one time the "gang" spirit prevailed. We noticed all at once no boys' voices were heard in singing. No one knew the reason but evidently an agreement not to sing had taken possession of a few and others were intimidated. No amount of questioning succeeded in opening their mouths, closed as tight as oyster valves and as hard to open. After some months of silence a few wee voices piped up and the gang spirit was broken. To this day we do not know the cause. Perhaps the unknown leader had left, possibly the visiting male quartettes gave the idea that men could sing as well as "girls." We did not question too closely, thankful that the trouble was over.

Chapter XLVII

The year 1918 to 1919 was one series of events and happenings never before experienced in the memory of those who had spent many years at the orphanage. At the beginning of 1918 we were in the midst of the epidemic of influenza. Two hundred and fifty children ill at one time, forty-two of whom had pneumonia.. There were nine members of the faculty ill. Our small hospital could take care of only thirty patients. Six of our cottages were turned into hospitals. From thirty-six to forty nurses were required to wait on the sick ones besides all faculty mem bers who were able to be about. The sewing rooms and laundry were closed as all were ill. Only two girls left to cook, two to do office work and a few left to help with the sick. Day and night nurses were required. At this time the ladies and gentlemen of the town came with help so sorely needed. The ladies took charge of the cooking and serving the food that the men delivered, using their cars for the purpose. Our homely (old style now) basement domestic science room, with its gas burners, was in constant use, the kitchen ranges being entirely inadequate. These ladies brought gifts of beverages, flowers, fruit, books and magazines in abundance. For their exceeding kindness we shall never cease to be grateful. Three teachers and three matrons gave their entire time to help through all the trying weeks of sickness and convalescence. Others taken sick went home to recuperate as soon as they were able. Five did not return, others were obliged to leave after a few weeks trial-health too much impaired to continue. Only two tables in the dining room were needed for children who were able to be out. It was February before all the grades were back in school with new teachers and cottage mothers. One cottage had five different mothers from various causes; some came and were taken ill on arrival, adding other patients to our already long list; others left fearing to contract the disease and others to be married. Verily it was a year of change. It was in April of this year that Miss Stephenson was taken ill and died. The first to take the disease, she had apparently recovered. In her the institution lost a very dear friend and a valuable teacher; so true, so enthusiastic, so efficient, conscientious and loyal during her thirteen years of service. Her noble life will be an example and inspiration to all who knew her. "To the many boys and girls at the orphanage whose lives and characters she has helped to form, her memory will be a benediction." The Baby Cottage was free from sickness under the watchful care of Miss Maggie Morton. Their isolation as far as possible, removed contagion---,no cases there. As the convalescent ones slowly crept back to the dining rooms, I went on duty and remained in charge a year or more for breakfast, dinner, and supper, giving teachers time to recuperate.

Chapter XLVIII

Bales of napkin goods had been donated. "Why can't the tables have napkins?" I said. "I believe all could be taught to use them." No orphanage at that time had them in use. If there had been only one table to consider no story would be needed, but here were two rooms over two hundred children who had not even had tablecloths until recently. We knew we should have to use a certain amount of diplomacy, so, after Mr. Brown had said, "Go ahead and try it," we quietly asked, one noon as the children were about to be dismissed, how many would like to have napkins at their tables. Amazed silence followed. Some did not even know what napkins were. I said, "Well, suppose you who sit at the ends of the tables talk it over with those at your table, explain about them and find out who wants them. Then you report to me by night or tomorrow, if you would like them. We may have them if you want some." By night all tables handed in a slip asking for napkins. Those bales of goods .came from the store room in haste. Soon the sewing rooms sent bundles of ten or twelve napkins, each piece marked from one to twelve and were assigned to tables. The dining room girls were told how to place and keep them at the right plate. All entered heartily into the plans. Each child learned to use his napkin and fold afterwards with number out to help the little girls in placing for the next meal. It was delightful to see the interest all took in folding napkins and placing at side of plates and watch to see if they had the right number at each meal. The inspector of orphanages on her "rounds" came one day. "Do you have table cloths?" she said. "Yes," we replied. "Do you possibly have napkins?" "Yes, we have." "Oh, great I " she replied. SWIMMING POOL Presented by the Oasis and Sudan Temples of the Shrine, the swimming pool stands first among all the sources o f enjoyment. (25 x 100 ft.-Continuous running water.) Silver had replaced the crude knives, forks and spoons used before. The sewing and laundry work was increased by all these extras, but no one complained. How glad we were of our deep well and tank holding a plentiful supply of water.

Chapter XLIX

In kite flying time the matrons hunted for their apron strings and mops, but they had risen to higher things sailing joyously in the sky. Kite making was a careful job requiring slender sticks, paper and paste. A plentiful supply of all these was always left behind on tables and floors. There was one article the making of which the boys would trust to no one-a ball. They wound it to correct size and begged a needle and thread to sew it. The offer of a cottage mother to sew it was promptly declined with, "You can't do it." "You don't know how. I have to do this." That particular stitch was never learned and boys continued to make and sew their balls until some lodge donated a supply of balls and bats. Some wonderful bats were whittled out of pieces of wood which the boys seasoned in the branch for months and woe to those who disturbed these sunken branches.

Chapter L

During the cold winter days of 1917-1918, the weather was too severe for outdoor farm work. Many boys were obliged to remain at cottages all day. Indoor games were given to each group for entertainment. Noticing the ladies and older girls knitting and hearing talks of war on all sides, some of the more active, thoughtful boys suggested knitting as a leisure time employment, if they could only learn. Offers of help from workers were received with enthusiasm. Demands for needles and thread came to the office. So many wanted to learn that large cones of white cotton thread were purchased from the Oxford Yarn factory. Needles were more expensive and became a problem because the girls, too, wanted more. The boys, with their usual ingenuity, solved the difficulty. Blocks of cedar from the lattice and pocket knives furnished just the materials necessary. There were plenty of seats in the study room at 3-B, where the cottage mother was always ready for any project the boys had on hand. Then with whittling, talking and whistling, needles, straight, smooth and slender were supplied in quantities. Classes were formed and numerous bath cloths were knit. Prizes were offered for the best specimens of knitting. A boy of fifteen years won the blue ribbon and a nine-year-old girl took the red. So many excellent pieces were on exhibition the judges were obliged to give honorable mention to ten others. During this activity I called to the office a class of small boys and girls for the superintendent to see at work. As each came up for inspection, work in one hand and ball of cotton in the other, the superintendent asked, "What are you knitting, Jane?" "A bath cloth," she replied. Each child received a pleasant word and praise for her "Bath cloth." As the last one in line came by, he was so busy knitting he didn't stop to look up from his needles, lips puffed out in his earnestness. "And what are you making, Eben?" "Washrag," came the quick reply. As the class laughed, Mr. Brown said with his usual tact, "That's what I call it, Eben." Many of these articles were sent to the relief office to be forwarded to the soldiers. A pair of long, slender needles made by the boys, were given me as a souvenir of this wartime activity and the boys and girls who wanted to help the soldiers. There were two orphanage boys "over there"; one with the marines. Word was received of their bravery and courage: Later, when the Armistice was signed we had a service flag with eighty-two stars for former boys and girls, many of whom had been at the orphanage during my time. There were two gold stars; one for the marine and one for the private. Bronze tablets were placed on the chapel walls for those two.

Chapter LI

At one time so-called educators were advocating the abolition of orphanages; "They were run in ruts." "Monotonous." "Same thing day after day." "Children should be placed in homes." "Ruts!" -never two days alike with us. If ruts were in the way we jumped over them. "Monotonous"--we saw no monotony. Every day brought new problems to be solved. "When these are solved there will be a lull," but no more came thick and fast. Why talk of monotony where one hundred and fifty or more boys live in a home together planning and scheming? What one did not think to do another was ready with suggestions. Our children came from all sections of the state, from the mountains to the sea, from the north to the south, and many were adept in the art of ways and means to keep things moving. "Yes, we had no monotony" in words of a popular song. Placing in homes-more serious than most people believed. Tact and extreme care were necessary and hardly ever successful even then. The return of an unsatisfactory child by a foster parent was detrimental to the child-more and more applications were turned down. But persons must start new ideas and projects, some good, others not so hopeful, if the world is to move on. The most striking innovation usually receives the most attention for a time and must be proved until some other idea presents itself. Possibly the "case worker" will solve the difficulty.

Chapter LII

I insert here the experience sent to me of a boy who is now a much worthwhile citizen.

MY LIFE AT THE OXFORD ORPHANAGE

The late Will Rogers played the most important part in a motion picture entitled "Life Begins at Forty." My life began at the age of nine. I was informed by my brothers, after the death of my only living parent, that I was to go, in company with a brother only a year and one-half older than I, to an orphanage, namely, The Oxford Orphanage. To keep us from crying, and with the idea in their mind that we should feel happy about going, we were told of many goats at the Orphanage for every little boy and girl to play with, that there were no heartaches or homesickness. Upon our arrival, the first person I remember seeing was Superintendent R. L. Brown, and the first argument I remember taking part in was with my elder brother, Bob, relative to my age. Mr. Brown inquired of my brother as to how old I was. Brother Bob informed him that I was eight, and as you know me so well, I spoke up quite indignantly with the statement, "I was nine August third." (The date of the questioning was September fourth.) My brother Carlyle and I were allotted by you our cottage, The Fourth Boys, and turned over to Miss Kimball. The very first night I got into a scrap with "Rat" Grady, due to the fact that he called me Miss Kimball's pet. He and I received a spanking in the hand that night and I immediately became very homesick. The next day Carlyle and I were designated to work on the farm and before eleven o'clock I had gotten another whipping with a switch by Mr. Daniel. The reason for this one was on account of Herman Hunnicutts' suggestion to me to sit crown behind any stack that was convenient, to rest, since it was customary for all new boys to rest now and then. I had been sitting there about five minutes when Mr. Daniel lit into me. Of course I was small and although he did not whip me hard on that account, you can rest assured that my feelings were terribly hurt. Shortly after Christmas I was selected as one of the four boys to go with the singing class of 1915. My roommate was Lyman DeFord. The other two boys were Gibson McKenzie and Charlton Jernigan. Were we a bunch of roughnecks? I was the youngest member of the class. We had a grand time on the trip with Miss Branch and Mr. Alderman in charge, however, Lyman and I had to spend most of our time after rest period in bed for either fighting or going to sleep on the stage. After returning from this trip with the singing class, I was placed on the farm, and from there, after a short time, I was made an office boy. This is not intended to make you feel badly but do you remember the time you sent me to the Post Office to mail a package and there was one cent left over? I confiscated this penny and bought myself a stick of chewing gum. When on the way to the dining room for the evening meal, one of the teachers stopped me because I was chewing gum very freely and we were not allowed to chew gum at all. I was put through the third degree by Mr. Brown and claimed the man at the Post Office gave me the penny with which to buy the gum. The carriage was brought out and I was to be taken to recognize the man, when I broke down and confessed that I had taken it from the amount given me to mail your package. I was punished by Mr. Brown by not allowing me to go home for the summer holidays: That I shall never forget, and thought at the time it had taught me a lesson, but later on, I ate some candy that I had swiped out of the mail pouch. The "talking to" I received for that sin nearly broke my heart and stays next to the chewing gum episode forever in my memory. From office boy I was sent to the printing office, and of course immediately termed as the Printers' Devil by the other boys in the office. In the meantime I had fallen in and out of love with several girls around my age and thought each girl was the "dream girl." In love at the orphanage back in those days was merely to

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