ion of physical education, of mental
training, of technical instruction in agriculture, of suggestions for
practical farm work, of dressmaking, sewing and cooking, enter into the
making of farmers' boys and farmers' girls who will live up to the
traditions of the American farm? To what extent must the school be a
center for social activity and social enthusiasm? How shall the school
make the farm and the small country town better living places for the
men and women of to-morrow?

The duty of the country school is simple and clear. It must fit country
children for country life. First it must know what are the needs of the
country; then, manned by teachers whose training has prepared them to
appreciate country problems, it will become the power that a country
school ought to be in directing the thoughts and lives of the
community.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 22: An extensive reference to this school will be found
in "Country Life and the Country School," Mabel Carney, Row,
Peterson & Company, Chicago, 1912.]

[Footnote 23: Supra, pp. 180-181.]

CHAPTER X

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES AND SUCKLINGS

I Miss Belle

The sun shone mildly, though it was still late January, while the wind,
which occasionally rustled the dry leaves about the fence corners, had
scarcely a suggestion of winter in its soft touch. Across the white
pike, and away on either side over the rolling blue grass meadows, the
Kentucky landscape unfolded itself, lined with brown and white fences,
and dotted with venerable trees. A buggy, drawn by a carefully-stepping
bay horse, came over the knoll ahead, framing itself naturally into the
beautiful landscape. Surely, that must be Joe and Miss Belle; it was so
like her, since she always seemed at home everywhere, making herself a
natural part of her surroundings. Another moment and there was no longer
any doubt. It was Miss Belle with three youngsters crowded into her lap
and beside her in the narrow buggy seat, while a dangling leg in the
rear suggested an occupant of the axle.

"Well, well," cried Miss Belle, cordially, as Joe stopped, glad of any
excuse not to go, "where are you bound for? You didn't come all the way
over to ride back with me?"

"No, indeed, Miss Belle," I laughed back, "no one ever expects to ride
with you so near the school-house. I'll walk along ahead until you begin
to unload."

"Go along, now you're casting reflections on Joe's speed. Come, Joe,
we'll show