Our first school house in La Junta was a little one room log school building, built in the Wicken addition, a half a mile from our house. The little building was going to pieces; it was just getting so old. The historical society took it down, indexed the logs and stored them and they were going to set it up when they could.

My father got sick and mother needed me so bad to help at home. She wanted me to go to school, but I quit in the 11th grade. I just lacked one year of being in the first graduating class. I loved school from the very first day I started.

There were ten pupils in school that first year I went and four of them were Millers. Books were hard to find and some children brought a book or a magazine from home to put into the shelf that we called our library.

I was excited about starting to school. Mama made me a spanking-new dress and I was proud as a peacock that first day as I walked to school beside my brothers, Oscar, Albert and Tommy. I was the only student in the first grade and I sat in the front seat. We used slates to write on in those days and I had my very own slate. I was anxious to learn how to read and write.

Our teacher, Miss Jenkins brought one class forward at a time and taught those students at the front. The rest of us were supposed to study but the stories were read out loud and I could listen from my front row perch. Sometimes we had spelling and reading contests. I soon discovered that Oscar couldn't read any better than our old dog, Shep.

I was the youngest Miller so I didn't do as well in the contests as the others but I could beat Oscar. He never did like to do book work. He'd rather be outside.

Our teacher, Miss Jenkins boarded at the homes of the other students. She stayed for one month with one family, then moved to another family and lived at their house. She didn't stay with us because with 13 in our family we didn't have any spare room. Since she was probably 15 years old so my brother Tommy was about the same age as Miss Jenkins. We teased him about being sweet on her and he turned red as the tomatoes in our garden.

A potbelly stove in the center of the room heated the school. It was hot up close to the stove and cold when we sat away from it. We didn't have much wood on the prairie so we had to find other things to heat the room with. The Indians used buffalo chips and we used chips too, but they were cow chips. Folks called it the "wood of the prairie". Some days the whole school would go out and collect cow chips. That was fun because it got us out into the field for awhile. I got too anxious one day and picked up one that was fresh. I did a little screaming and hollering about that for awhile until Miss Jenkins helped me wipe my hands off on some nearby weeds. I was careful to pick up one that was dried out after that.

We took our lunches to school and on nice days we ate outside under a tree. Mama made sandwiches for us out of homemade bread and butter. She always tucked in a cookie or a piece of pie. Sometimes in the wintertime we each brought a vegetable and put it together in a big pot on the stove and made the best stew you ever tasted. I never smelled anything as good as that stew when it was cooking. It was hard to study on days like that. In the winter we ate inside at our benches.

An old bell hung outside the schoolhouse door and teacher rang it every morning. Some of the students rode horses to get to school but my brothers and me went by shanks mare because the school wasn't very far from our house. There was an old shack in the back of the school for the horses.

We had a pump in the schoolyard and the boys brought in pails of water. A dipper was in the bucket. Everyone used the same dipper to drink from. We didn't worry about things like germs. Teacher kept a pail of water on the stove so the boys could thaw out the pump when the water froze.

A community type outhouse was in back. The boys stayed a long time out there in nice weather but no one lingered long in the wintertime.

There was one stool that stood taller than the others and a big cap with the word "DUNCE" on it. I knew I would never have to wear that. I didn't have any trouble reading and I was too smart to have to sit in the "dummies" seat.

Every afternoon after school, before chore time the boys and I studied. I practiced making my letters while Tommy, Oscar and Orville worked on their reading. Most of the time Oscar wandered around, getting a drink of water, going out to the barn, throwing rocks, he just wouldn't sit still.

"Oscar," Miss Jenkins would scold him all the time. "You need to study your lessons."

Since I was such a good reader I figured I needed to remind him and help him out. When he fidgeted I thought it my duty to make him sit still.

"Oscar," I scolded. "You know what Miss Jenkins told you. You should learn to read."

"Stop bossing me around." He made an ugly face at me and went to the water bucket.

One afternoon Oscar was even more restless than usual and he rambled around like a lost pig.

The next day, sure enough Oscar was in trouble. Miss Jenkins made him come up front. She put the dunce cap on him and plunked him on the stool in the corner. It didn't bother him, but I was mortified. My big brother was sitting in the dummy's chair and wearing the dunce cap! I was shamed. It was high time Mama did something about that boy.

I couldn't wait to get home and tell Mama. I burst into the kitchen. She'd just taken an apple pie out of the oven. It smelled delicious.

"Mama, Mama," I yelled. "Oscar had to wear the dunce cap today and sit in the dummy's seat."

Oscar came running up just in time to hear me. He stuck his tongue out at me as he grumbled in my ear, "Tattletale."

"Well, son?" Mama asked. The corners of her mouth turned down.

"He didn't learn his lesson," I volunteered.

"Now Sarah," Mama turned to me. "I think you better let me handle this."

"That's right," Oscar said. "You're not my mother."

"Why did you have to sit in the corner?" Mama insisted.

"He didn't study," I volunteered again.

"You better get busy on your lessons," she looked at me threateningly. I knew I better be quiet.

Mama told Oscar he would get no desert that evening. Oscar didn't like that, he liked apple pie better than anything. He glared at me.

"It's your own fault," I whispered and stuck my tongue out at him when Mama wasn't looking. "You should have studied."

"I hate reading," he grumbled.

"Reading is easy," I bragged. "Just sound out the words."

"Not for me," he stomped outside. "Tattletale, tattletale."

I had no trouble studying as long as I was reading or writing, but when I was supposed to study my timetables I found excuses. I hated Arithmetic. I didn't consider it any consequence anyway. After all, who needed all those numbers? It was more fun to do something else. I sidestepped those numbers as long as I could.

But the day came when it all caught up with me and Oscar had his revenge.

When Miss Jenkins called me up to recite I did my reading and writing in good order.

"Now let's see how you're coming along with your arithmetic," she said. My heart slipped clear down in my high-topped shoes.

I couldn't answer any of her questions.

"Sarah," Miss Jenkins scolded. "You were supposed to have your time tables memorized by now."

I hung my head.

"Well," she sighed and nodded toward the terrible stool. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"Yes," I said as I headed for the dreaded dunce cap and that tall dummy's stool.

I caught a glimpse of Oscar's face, he was grinning. I knew he was waiting for his revenge. Why had I been such a tattletale?

As I sat there I thought about supper. Today was pudding day and I wouldn't get any desert. It was a long afternoon and I was in a sour mood. I didn't feel like chatting with anyone.

When we got home I waited for Oscar to tell Mama that I had to sit in the dummy's chair, but he went to the barn instead.

I picked up my slate and began working on my timetables. Oscar came in the door but he still didn't say anything to Mama. I kept holding my breath but he started working on his lessons and never did tattle on me.

That pudding after supper was good tasting but now I felt right down sorrowful.

"Oscar," I said later that evening. "Would you help me with my time tables?"

"Sure Sadie," he grinned at me. "And maybe you can show me how to sound out the words."

I was happy to help Oscar. He was my buddy. I decided never to be a tattletale again.