By the late 1930s, one-room schoolhouses in Northwest Wisconsin were about to become things of the past.
I taught a year in one of them that left much to be desired. Not the least of the problems in the school was the over-abundance of families of mice. If I opened a desk drawer, one was almost certain to hop out. After the children left for the day, mice scurried up and down the aisles. I had no love for them!
One evening as I was in the cloak-room getting ready to leave for my boarding-place, one of the school board members dropped by.
I seized the opportunity to air my views concerning what needed to be done to improve the school. I was very vocal in my criticisms.
I was still complaining while I proceeded to pull on my woolen snow pants. As I did so, a mouse started climbing up my leg. I shrieked in fright and flung my leg forward. The mouse flew across the floor.
The Board member howled with laughter but managed to say, "You sure changed your tune!"
