THE boy on the radio who says "Right now!" with such persistent immediacy had finished with his erroneous thunder showers and told us the policeman who investigated the motorcycle accident had decided speed was a factor. This is altogether possible, and some recognition should be accorded that policeman for reaching such a conclusion between the time of the accident yesterday and the morning broadcast today.
Years ago, according to competent authority that was then and there in attendance (right then, that is), Miss Gilhooley, who was teaching all grades at the Fisher Brook School, was putting the fifth grade through some research in physics. The other seven grades were listening, and Miss Gilhooley had the rapt attention of all when she came to the word kinetics.
"What kind of vehicle," she asked, "would be least likely to be affected by centrifugal or centripetal force?"
Those were certainly the good old days. The scholars were all farm children and they walked to school every morning with a dinner bucket in hand. And Miss Gilhooley was fresh out of normal school and got 50 cents extra each winter day for coming in early to build a fire in the ram-down wood stove. This fire was not primarily meant to warm the scholars, as they could keep on their mackinaws and mittens, but was essential for keeping the dinners from freezing.
Anybody who thinks hot lunches are a modern invention of educational experts certainly never experienced a fried egg or baked-bean sandwich that was on the dinner bucket shelf behind the stove in a rural school from opening prayer to noonin'.
Miss Gilhooley was the teacher who liked to be warm, and because the superintendent felt she was burning too much wood, he suggested she consider woolen drawers. These were so very much the good old days that Miss Gilhooley didn't report this to a congressional committee, and it passed entirely unnoticed in the cultural annals of our backward community.