A History of the Class of ’90

By Miss Sabine C. Schindhelm.

One evening, early in the Fall of ’89, voices were heard in the school-room as though many persons were talking at once. Suddenly the bell rang and the talking ceased. “What does this mean?” you would have asked, and then, your curiosity getting the better of you, you would have peeped in. Such a sight! At the front of the room were four or five rows of young girls, books and pencils in hand, and on the platform stood a gentleman who was evidently their teacher. What were they going to do? Why, take their first lesson in stenography, and you can see from the number of bright and happy faces here to-night, what that first and each succeeding lesson has done for them. Like little children just beginning to spell they began with the alphabet, and step by step, gaining strength and courage, learning everything thoroughly, till at the end of three months, they had laid a foundation upon which whatever followed could securely rest; and, when the mid-winter examination came on (which had all along seemed like a great wall that was insurmountable), they were able to scale it without much difficulty.

But you must not think this goal was reached without many mistakes which were sometimes very disheartening, and sometimes very funny; as you will think when I tell you for the letter H a tick is sometimes used; and one girl slanting this tick the wrong way wrote, “Pale, thou poly king”; and another, who misplaced a vowel, wrote, “I like my live eel boy.” However, these errors only tended to make them more careful, and when they started the speeding course, it served them a good purpose.

At the beginning of this course, they were addressed as “My dear reader,” and told to observe what they were told; then followed some maxims to be laid to heart, and a little dwarf was introduced whose name was “Try.” This little fellow had a way of making every one try to do her best, and those who were unable to do very much at first he encouraged by giving them a helping hand. After a while he left us and in his place stood a very impudent fellow known by those with whom he had had dealings as “I Forgot,” or “I Didn’t Think;” but as soon as we learned his mission, which you probably have guessed, or perhaps know from experience, we discharged him and to secure ourselves from his return, sent the “Careful Dog” after him. Tom’s uncle then gave his opinion on Phonography, but although it had over four hundred words in it, it did not amount to much as some of the girls got it down in less than three minutes.

Soon afterward John Smith received a letter from his brother Timothy Jenkins (this name was given the latter by mistake by one of the girls), about some place in New York State where they could spend a very nice vacation. This place had advantages in the way of fishing and boating, lawn tennis and all the rest; but one of our number, who evidently thought more of good solid comfort, wrote that there were “good furniture and bedding.”

While thinking still of this delightful resort with all its acquisitions, the strong arm of the law suddenly came down upon us and holding out a document to our wondering gaze demanded the name of same. Then was heard a confusion of voices, every one guessing the wrong thing, until one, who thought of course she knew, cried out “Oh, it’s a divorce case!” It was no such thing, however; it was a simple complaint, in which the husband and wife were plaintiffs. We went through the entire pleadings of this case and when finished, took up another and another until now we are not lawyers, but some are able to be stenographers for lawyers, and others amanuenses.