|
such as drinking a glass of milk every day
at recess with Helen Merriam, which was supposed to give us additional
strength. This was done under the supervision of
a teacher, to be sure that our parents' orders were being carried out.
The milk had come from the Merriam farm in a thermos bottle, because my
mother, knowing my dislike for milk, thought that perhaps I might find
the Merriams' acceptable. I still disliked it, and after a few weeks the
unpleasant ordeal of forced milk drinking was discontinued.
Games of Prisoners' Base that we played at recess were much
pleasanter than work in the classroom, where more than once I was
ordered to sit in the corner with my back to the class be- cause my
lessons had not been properly learned. My most vivid recollection,
however, has to do with sickness. I was sitting
inside the building during recess one day, feeling utterly misera-
ble and not caring whether I was alive or dead. Even when
Virginia Hardy came into the room, pointed at me and said,
"Your pants are unbuttoned," I was not particularly disturbed.
I did turn around to remedy the situation, but it took a lot of
uncomfortable effort. Soon after returning to the classroom, I felt like
throwing up and raised my hand in desperation. Miss Bridge must have
realized the emergency — "Yes — go — hurry up," she
said. I started towards the door at the side of the room, and
as I crossed in front of the class my innards exploded and came
out all over the place. I was not particularly bothered by this
either.
After Pigeon Hill School I
went for two years to Longwood Day School in Brookline, a
boys' school that took pupils to the fourth class — that is, four years
from college. Adjusting myself |
