But then it was a school, the best we had, and did much good.

 Autobiography and reminiscences by John W. Carroll.

About my eighth year I started for school, father leading the way, axe in hand, cutting off a limb here and a brush there.  I blazed a tree first one one side and then on the other, of the newly made path, that brother and I might have a guide to and from the school.  (This school generally lasted from ten to twelve weeks.  At least from the time we got through our crops until time to take the fodder, we were continuously in school.)  On arriving at the Seminary we found quite a pleasant-looking gentleman in charge — Mr. R. G. Hughes, who proved to be what his appearance indicated, a real good fellow.  Those who wished to, studied; those who did not relish studying, were not compelled.

Our school building was as primitive as our residence.  Round logs composed the body of the house; it had a dirt floor or rather no floor at all; a large fire-place occupied almost one entire end of the building.  Round logs had been split open in the middle, the splinters hewn off on the split side, holes bored in from the bark side, and long pins, put in them from that side as supports, furnished the seats for the pupils.  These seats were from some cause always made high so that many of the small children's feet reached no nearer the floor, than from six to eighteen inches.  There we sat and swung our feet from morning until noon and from noon until dismissal.  Our writing desk consisted of one long plank put up on pins along one side of the house; one of the long benches being used for a seat, and of extra height; a log was cut out of the house just over the writing bench to admit the light.  Many were the little notes we passed and slipped into each other's copy books while learning to write.  At school, we all spelt aloud and read aloud; sometimes we could have been heard two hundred yards away, especially on Friday evenings when we had a spelling match, which was an evening of great excitement and looked to with much interest.  Not much school, you think, which is true, as compared with the older communities, or with our modern colleges, built of brick, warmed by hot air and lighted by electricity, but then it was a school, the best we had, and did much good.  I attended this school three sessions from eight to twelve weeks at a time in so many years.  During this time I learned to spell and read fairly well and to write a fairly legible hand.  I also learned the multiplication table, possibly to add simple numbers, but there was no such thing in our school as a history, geography or English grammar, in fact I never saw an English grammar until I was almost grown, hence pass over grammatical mistakes as lightly as possible.

It was the custom of our professor to allow the first who arrived in the morning to recite first that day and many were the mornings that we almost flew in our efforts to be first.  Of the girls and boys who attended this school many remained in the country and grew to be stalwart men and women and helped to make the country what it now is.