LINES

LINES

On the manner of conducting a Monitorial School, spoken at a Public Examination.

(Taken from an English publication, altered.)

“Before we take a pen in hand,
We learn to write upon the sand;
And when the Alphabet we know,
We write on slates—six in a row.
An easy lesson is prepar’d,
As, AB, ab-ARD, ard.
And those who spell, or read, the best,
Have some reward above the rest.
When we in spelling, well succeed
We do appointed lessons read.
The Holy Bible is the source
Of each gradationary course.
A semicircle draught of six,
Whose eyes must on the lesson fix;
With hands behind, attentive stand,
Read—till they hear a fresh command:
Our places, then, at desks, we take,
(For standing long, our legs would ache:)
Rehearse the Tables, Grammar too,
And many more things have to do.
Our monitor demands a “Look,”
“Clean slates,” “Prepare,” then takes his book,
Give out a word, when all in class
Write, one each other to surpass.
Six words are written,--then “Show slates,”
(Which must be rang’d like rows of plates
On dresser shelves,)—the slates are clean,
That words may be distinctly seen:
The pencils must be held like pens,
And be well pointed at the ends;
Six inches long,--or a small piece
We with a tube the length increase.
All letters to the right must lean,
With equal distances between.
Down strokes made bold, up strokes made fine,
And t’s are cross’d upon the line.
Letters with stems, as h, l, b,
Are made as high again as v;
Both i and j, though oft forgot,
Must have, as high as they, a dot.
Loop’s upon the topmost line,
With is the following letter join.
The p, the q, the g, and y,
Have stems as low as I has high.
Our master does the slates inspect,
And here and there finds some defect:
Bad spelling makes him shake his head,
So we’re reprov’d, if nothing’s said.
When we can shape the letters well,
And do the rest in class excel,
With pen and ink in books we write,
And think we’re almost men—or quite,
At times, though careless we blot,
A fine in tickets, then’s our lot;
But if the book throughout is fair,
Reward in tickets then’s our share.
When through these courses we have run,
Our work, like dame’s, is never done;
We must make figures on the slate,
And, as we do them, numerate.
The first class is arithmetic,
That they may reckon true and quick,
Write Combination on the slate,
As, one, and two, and five, are eight;
Take five from eight, three will remain,
Then write twice four, there’s eight again.
We add, subtract, and multiply,
And learn the Tables by the bye.
Fingers we’re not allow’d to count;
But tell, at once, the sum’s amount,
As twice two’s four, and three are seven,
And two are nine, and two, eleven;
Two’s in six, three; two’s in eight, four;
Five’s in ten, two; five four’s a score.
And thus you see we do divide,
Subtract, add, multiply, beside.
The next class has a sum to do,
To practise what it has gone through,
And all exhibit it at once,
Except it be an idle dunce.
Mental arithmetic displays
Any amount in shorter ways
By ‘nlarged tables which we learn,
At once the answer we discern;
As, fifteen pounds of beef or pork,
At ten cents by the head we work;
Without a pencil or a pen,
We ascertain fifteen times ten.
And, now the age is so polite,
We must grammatically write;
So, when that exercise commences,
We chant the parts of speech, and tenses;
Or, in a slow, responsive air,
As monks and nuns would say a prayer;
Thus, by a frequent repetition,
We gain this needful acquisition.
The parts of English speech are nine,
By which each word we can define;
Their derivation we can trace,
And write, and speak, with case and grace.
An article is A, An, The;
A noun—a person, place, or tree;
An adjective Good, or Bad,
Swift, Slow, Strong, Weak, Expert, of sad.
Pronouns, I, Thou, He, We, You, They;
As John’s gone out, He’s gone to play.
A Verb is Passive, Active too,
Passive, I am—Active, I do.
An Adverb, to a Verb’s allied,
To Adjectives is also tied;
As he reads well, that’s truly good,
Mince pie is very pleasant food.
A preposition serves to join
Words, which without, would not combine;
As, William went from Rye to Hudson,
With Jane to see uncle Judson.
Conjunctions, sentences connect,
As, these and those books are correct,
An interjection you may know,
When any say, Alas! Or, Oh!
Then, syntax some of us practise,
Writing an Essay for a prize;
Some of us think, we write a letter
Well as a lawyer, if not better.
To fill the long, expensive sheet,
They use words almost obsolete;
We mind our stops in every clause,
They stop not till they end their cause.
We also may with those compare,
Who say “This here,” and then “That there;”
“More better,” “Most delightfulest:”
“I knows they was the larnedest.”
We learn by Lindley Maurray’s rules,
Such words would make us look like fools.
Our regulations, wise and good,
Teach us to fear and serve our God;
T’ attend the worship of the Lord,
And reverence his Holy Word.
At all times we must speak the truth;
Falsehood should be shunn’d by youth.
Ah! Annanias and his wife,
Telling a lie, both lost their life.
If such as these the school infest,
They are disgrac’d beyond the rest:
A label on their breasts is hung,
Descriptive of a lying tounge.
If any do the truant play,
They suffer, the ensuing day:
Their coats are turn’d, and they are made
All round the school room to parade;
As he is thought the greatest fool,
Who wrongs himself by slighting school.
A boy, with dirty hands and face,
Is sure to meet with some disgrace;
A little girl is sent for in,
To scrub him till she makes him clean.
As soldiers under discipline,
We end our work as we begin,
With regularity pursue
Each exercise we have to do.
Overly perseverance gains
A good reward for all our pains.
If after this short explanation,
Your pleasure or your inclination,
Should move you once to see the school,
Your presence won't infringe a rule.

From Charles C. Andrews, History of the New-York African Free Schools. New York: Mahlon Day, 1830.