 |
|
| Story ID: | 525 |
| Written by: | Wanda Molsberry Bates (bio, contact, other stories) |
| Story type: | Serial Fiction |
| Writers Conference: | Three Years In a Teacherage |
| Location: | Greeneville Township near Spirit Lake Iowa USA |
| Year: | 1935 |
| Person: | Wanda Molsberry Bates |
Add a Comment |
Print |
|
Visitors|
"Three Years In a Teacherage" is part of a 9 chapter serial fiction piece written by Wanda Molsberry Bates. To see all chapters, please select this link - Three Years In a Teacherage . Things became easier as the days went by, and after the first social event of the year, I began to feel that teaching and living in a rural community were not so difficult after all. Though not a city girl, I had lived in town and was not familiar with the social life enjoyed in the farm communities. I found that there was a good deal of fun to be had at times. My first contact with the young people in the community (known to L.P. as the "aloomini") came at an evening wiener and marshmallow roast held in the yard of the Roggendorf family. Many of the crowd were graduates of Greeneville Township Consolidated, with the unmarried ones still living in the homes of their parents and assisting with the farm work. The high school students were also included. Following the roast, the fun started when the party games began. These were singing games with no other music than the voices, but I soon found out that there was quite a bit of excitement connected with them. Since the games were new to me, I found myself being led by the hand or given a gentle shove as we went through the motions described in the songs, such as "Skip to My Lou," "Choose Your Two Best Lovers," and "Eight in a Boat." Another game was "Please, Oh, Please." This was sung to the tune of "There'll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight" with a lot of hand clapping and the words "Please, oh, please, oh do not let me fall, for I love you and I love you best of all and if I can't have you I want no one at all.There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight." The game was a simplified square dance with four girls circling around a square of four men, and on returning to the original spot being swung by a male partner, not necessarily the one who was her partner when the game started. As new teachers, Gwen and I received more than our share of attention and I found this to be heady excitement, indeed. Hearing such remarks as "There you go, Tom," or "Step lively, Howard," encouraged me to do a little flirting with the one named Howard. As we changed to another game, Irene whispered to me, "You are making a certain little high school girl very unhappy." I realized then that teachers should not be overly friendly to high school girls' boyfriends. In weeks to come we teachers were invited to frequent play parties, many of them held in the school gymnasium. Though the musical games were lots of fun, I found that even more exhilarating were the square dances to which I was later introduced. These were often held in farm homes where the kitchen furniture, sometimes including the range, had been moved out to make room for the dancing, and where fiddlers supplied the music. L. P. and the missus took us to the first square dance of the year which was held at the Geis home. Greg and several other little children were allowed to stay up for awhile but they were soon put to bed, side by side, in an upstairs bedroom. A number of farm families had arrived ahead of us, and, as we entered the house, I saw some of the same young people who had been at the wiener roast. With them was a tall, dark fellow whom I hadn't seen before. Looking toward him, L.P. said, "Here you are, Joe." I didn't attach any significance to the remark at that time. The dancing began with the fiddlers setting the tempo with music such as "Irish Washerwoman," and "Turkey in the Straw." I watched in fascination as the couples moved through the intricacies of the do-si-do and allemande left. Men and women who had spent the day in heavy physical labor moved lightly and gracefully around the floor, the women's skirts swirling as the men swung their partners high off the floor. Giving me a gentle push, L. P. said, "Now you know how it's done, Miss Morris, get right in there." And to one of the young men he said, "C'mon, Tom. She don't want to dance with an old married man like me." Tom stepped forward, grinning and self-conscious, but he skillfully propelled me through "Dive for the oyster. Dig for the clam," and "Hug 'em up tight, and swing'em like thunder." In the latter dance I was shocked as my feet left the floor when the four couples formed a single circle with the boys' and girls' arms around each other's waists and the circle revolving at high speed. After Tom, I danced with Fred, Jim, and Melvin. Howard was not there, and the fellow whom L.P. had called "Joe" did not ask me to dance that night. |
