t
and had good memories, but found it hard to think. I judge that they
had rarely been expected or taught to think for themselves.
Arithmetic was hard for them. Reading in Spanish--where each letter,
vowel or consonant has, in general, but one sound and there are no
silent letters--was very easy. But reading and spelling in
English--where they could not know what sound to give to a letter,
and what letters had no sound--was most trying. However, they did,
even in reading English, as well as we had any right to expect.

[Illustration: SAN JUAN HARBOR, PORTO RICO.]

Were there no discouragements? Hosts of them. But the encouragements
were so much greater. It was hard to get them to study. Sometimes it
seemed that they would never learn to think. The noises of the
street, the curious crowds about the doors, the dogs which would
insist on making themselves at home in the schoolroom, were trying.
It was warm all winter--how odd that word sounded to us!--between 85
and 90 degrees on Christmas day. But most trying and discouraging of
all was the irregular attendance, day after day, one-fifth,
one-quarter, even one-third absent. There was much sickness. During
February and March grip and "catarros" or colds kept many away. But
much of the absence was due to carelessness, the almost weekly
"fiestas" or church feasts or holidays, the errands to San Juan, the
lack of clothing, the fear of rain, anything, everything and nothing.
And yet they were deeply interested in the school, and parents had
sacrificed much to send their boys and girls to school and were
anxious for them to get an education. But the lower classes have not
learned to do anything regularly or in order. They attend school as
they eat, work and sleep--as they live. This condition calls for
another lesson, outside of the books, a hard, slow lesson which the
schools must teach.

Did the American Missionary Association schools pay? Did we feel
rewarded for some sacrifices and privations? At Santurce a colored
mother came in just before we left the house for the boat to the
States to thank us for what we had done for her three girls. Her face
and eyes told more than her Spanish tongue could convey to us. At
Lares the whole afternoon and evening before our teachers left there
was a constant stream of children and mothers and sisters and
fathers, Spanish, many or most of them, coming to say good-bye, to
thank the teachers, the Misses Blowers, Blinka and French, for wh