CHAPTER I

THE NEW OUTLOOK

Almost three centuries have passed since the American common-school system had its birth. During all this time the rural school has been an important part of that school system and a significant factor in our country's history. From the beginning our people have deeply believed in education, and have often sacrificed much to obtain its advantages. When the pioneers have pushed out to occupy new territory, they have never failed to take the school with them. Hardly have the cabin homes been erected before the rural schoolhouse has appeared. Born in the travail of poverty, and nourished not infrequently through sacrifice almost of the very necessities of life, it is no wonder that the rural school has secured such a hold on our affections.

In the early rural school were taught the "three R's" of the older day-the reading, writing and arithmetic that Early school conconstituted the school training of the ditions pioneers. The education received was meager enough, but it served its day. For the life to be met in those times demanded a rugged muscular endurance and the physical daring to be developed in the actual struggle for a livelihood rather than in schools. And few of that generation outside the learned professions possessed

an education extending beyond the simple rudiments ob-
tained in the rural school or the scarcely more advanced
schools of the villages. All honor to these hardy pio-
neers,
the fearless men and women who, lacking many of
the educational opportunities which their children and
grandchildren have had, were still able to lay so deep and
sure the foundations of our nation!

The old-time rural school occupied a large place in the social as well as the intellectual life of the entire comThe social side of munity. For it was the center of old-time schools much truly educational activity besides the formal exercises of the school. Here were held the neighborhood spelling schools, attended and enjoyed by old and young for miles around. Here the neighborhood debating society held its fortnightly meetings during the long winter periods, and discussed the great social and political questions that were agitating the young nation. School "exhibitions" afforded opportunity for training the oratorical powers of the ambitious youth who was later to win renown in the legislature or in the halls of congress. The "singing school" was organized for the lovers of music, and the "ciphering" match was held for such as were ambitious to display their mathematical prowess. Here both old and young assembled to the jingling tune of the winter sleigh-bells and, amid song and speech and laughter, joined in a merry time. Here new acquaintances were made, old friendships renewed, courtships begun, and a thousand other advantages attained which are impossible without a common neighborhood meeting-place and social center. The memory of the "little red schoolhouse" will rightly long be cherished among us as one of our dearest possessions from the earlier days.

Environment of pioneer schools

But the age and conditions that gave birth to the oldtime rural school have passed away never to return. The rural school had its origin at a time when the nation was small and struggling, and when poverty stared almost every family in the face. It grew up while the battle was yet being waged to wrest a living from the untamed forest or the reluctant virgin prairies. The early rural schoolhouse not infrequently looked out on roving bands of Indians bent on no peaceful errands. And its echoes were now and then awakened by the howl of the wolf and the cry of the panther. It was built of logs cut from the near-by forest; its windows were of greased paper, for no glass was to be had. The benches were made of ax-hewn slabs resting on wooden posts, and were innocent of backs. The room was heated by a fireplace occupying the rear of the building. A rough desk and chair for the master, a bunch of quills for the making of pens, and the omnipresent birch within his easy reach completed the equipment of the school. Truly a primitive school, but it belonged to a pioneer day and was a worthy representative of the rugged life of its times.

trial conditions

Since those times, however, our nation has gone through a marvelous social and industrial transformaChanges in indus- tion. The farmer, who, in the earlier days, toiled and sacrificed to send his son to the little district school, himself traveled in the lumbering stage-coach when he made a journey; to-day he rides in his automobile, on the interurban, or on the limited express, enjoying every comfort found in his own home. At that day he broke his ground with a woodenshare plow, planted his corn by hand and cultivated it with a hoe; now, he has the gang-plow, the check-rower

and the riding cultivator. Then, he cut his grain with a cradle and threshed it with a flail; now, he drives the self-binder and has his threshing done by the steamdriven self-feed, automatic-stacker thresher. At that time, his house was built of logs, heated by a fireplace and lighted with tallow candles; to-day, his home is roomy and modern, heated by furnace or steam, well lighted, well furnished and abreast of the times. Then, when the season was not too busy, he could meet and talk with his neighbor perhaps once a fortnight or once a month; now, his telephone connects him not only with all his neighbors, but with all the great world outside. Then, if perchance he found time to go to the post-office, he received a small local paper once a week; now, the daily papers, the farm journals and other magazines are delivered each morning at his door. In those days he had the family Bible and a scant half-dozen other books to read; now, he has a library in his home. Then, the little rural school to which he sent his son would furnish him with an education equal to that possessed by others of his day; but now, such a school leaves him far below the average of present-day education, and not adequately equipped for his life and work on the farm.

It is evident, then, that schools which served the purpose well during the last century will not now suffice. Times have changed. The world is on the move. New standards have arisen, and new demands are in force. We no longer go to war with the old flint-lock or the Springfield, but with an automatic machine that will shoot several times a second for hours without ceasing.

Physicians are yet practising who were able to enter on their professions with no schooling worthy of the name. One such doctor has just died, after thirty years'