Jugs Corners School – 13th Reunion


The following poem was written by Adam Bechtel, a teacher at Jugs Corners School in 1868. This was Mr Bechtel’s first teaching assignment. The poem was written August 8, 1936 and sent to Emma Jane Shauck Ferguson, a student of Mr Bechtel.

“Twas near the old home of Mr George Ruhl,

Was located the famous Jugs Corners School,

To A.F. Bechtel it was a noteworthy date,

It being the year eighteen hundred sixty-eight.

For in those days they called him “Schoolmaster”,

And to some it seemed a great disaster;

For some thought him entirely too young,

And to others began to wiggle their tongue.

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But the Board wisely said, “Never you mind,

Just leave him alone and soon you will find,

He will have the good will of each girl and boy,

And your criticism turned to everlasting joy”.

So the days and weeks passed too quickly by,

When teacher and pupils heard the “goodby”,

But the Schoolboard lingered in quiet contact,

And signed with the teacher another contract.

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In those days, one book was a wonderful seller,

And that was the popular McGuffey’s old speller;

With such words as daguerreotype, erysipelas and rote,

Would finally and embarrassingly sure “got their goat”.

But Belinda and Agnes would seldom go down,

While many others looked on with a frown.

Then off to a spelling school on a clear frosty night,

With George’s bobsled loaded, merrily took their flight.

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To King’s Corner, Frog Pond or Steam Corners they went,

A jolly load of youngsters with victorious intent.

There was Emma, Ermina, Wesley, Scott and LeRoy,

Wilber, David, Amanda and Johnnie, that wee little boy.

There was Jacob, Orlando, Albert and Cassie,

And Florence, the reserved and shy little lassie.

And as we look back, back thru the lapse of years,

Sometimes in joy, sometimes in tears.

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With the poet we say, “Turn backward, Oh Time, in your Flight,

And make me a child again, just for to-night”.

A tinge of sadness, silently comes to my mind,

As I think of those children, so obedient and kind.

And as I think of their names and try to recall,

And look at the picture that hangs on the wall.

But let us look forward to that home of the Soul,

Hoping our names will be written on that beautiful scroll.