“Dogs delight to bark and fight, but ...

children’s little hands were not meant to scratch each other’s eyes.”  

         - a favorite expression of Miss Mary Chew, Owensville’s public school teacher 1865 to 1905.

  

Mary Chew's grandneice, Kate Chew, described the Owensville school in 1914:

“We entered at the left.  There was a little hallway, then a room on the left which held the water bucket and our lunch pails and wraps.  An identical room on the right had textbooks, chalk boxes, and piles of paper.  Straight ahead, the schoolroom had windows only on the left, with blackboards front and right, and a stove which extended into the room.  We had double desks with ink wells.

“Our teacher, Miss Mary Biscoe, dominated the room.  No question:  she was to be obeyed... 

“Once, one of the older boys had to be whipped, and we were all sent outdoors where we grouped fearfully to listen to his screams, but we didn’t hear much except the swish of the stick.  When we were sent for, slinking in, he was sitting in his corner seat, head down.  Miss Biscoe had no trouble with anyone.  All of us were good as gold.

School House c 1900 (Clemence Burwell photos)

“Recesses and lunch hour were lots of fun.  We played Fox & Hounds and Hide & Seek in the woods behind the school, or jumped over the little stream.  The area near the privy at the foot of the hill was taboo.  In the front yard, baseball was played with a hard ball and simple rules (no strike-outs, no balls, no umpire).  Girls and boys played together, and Miss B with us, sometimes doing her own running in her long skirt and high heeled shoes.

“Hot, tired, thirsty, we would be called in by the bell and lined up to get a drink using the same dipper.  Then, while we were tired, we might have poetry.  When it was “The Village Blacksmith”, it was real.  Mr Wayson had his shop next door, and the chime of his anvil was part of the day...  

"We were like a small family, about thirty of us, all ages, 6 to 16.”