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(tIINHI
•The Time Hoe Come,’
the Wth-M said . , .
School’s out! Roll a few years from your age and it’s cause for shouting and joy.
For the boys it’s freedom to sneak off fishing. Of course, you get blown up when you return, because of those jobs left undone, but it isn’t termed “playing hookey” and a fellow can nearly always make up to Mother and get back in her good graces. Pa may get mad about it, but you stand a chance of getting around him, too, if he happens to remember when he was a boy.
For tbe girl it’s extra hours of playing time, playing doll-house, roller-skating, games with friends. Of course, there are dishes to wash, peas to shell, and a little potato-bugging to do, but that’s forgotten in the pleasant hours.
For tbe teacher—ah! bliss! Life is just one perpetual Saturday and Sunday. There's an extra hour’s sleep in the morning; no worries over the children; no responsibilities! In fact, fbr three whole months they can terra themselves human beings and enjoy just living—that is, if the last few weeks of school didn’t make nervous wrecks of them so that it takes all summer to recover.
For the parent—woe is he! The little cherubs ake now underfoot every hour of the day. How do the teachers stand that many of them? How can “Mother’s little angels” think of so many things to do which shouldn’t be done? Why must the call out of the window always be “stop it” and “don't”? Just know that summer .will eventually pass, it always has before. There’ll be the usual cases of poison oak and bee stings, stumped toes and a stone bruise
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