We had learnt about them in our daily scripture lessons .sx We found Europe a very accommodating continent , with the easily recognized Italy " boot" , and a pink Russia taking up most of the space , where we were only required to point out St. Petersburg and perhaps Moscow .sx Like the Grecian urn and beauty , that was all we knew or needed to know about Russia .sx When it came to nearer home , then prejudice and patriotism had their stubborn way with us .sx All very well for England to spread her patchwork quilt of counties before us .sx We viewed her with unsympathetic eyes .sx But unroll the map of Scotland , and here was Geography itself .sx What could a whole wilderness of maps display that could beat this land of ours ?sx Look to the West , and there was pink Argyll , all broken up by long strips of blue sea , and lovely islands with romantic Highland names .sx Over the sea to Skye with Prince Charlie , and to Iona , where the long-ago saint built a shrine and raised a cross .sx Back to the East , and there was Edinburgh .sx And here were we , actually in a house in a street in Edinburgh !sx Gleefully we pointed out the Firth of Forth , in which we had all bathed and paddled at one or other of the little villages on its coast .sx North Berwick , with the Bass Rock and Tantallon Castle , and over in Fife , Aberdour , its woods lovely in Maytime with the blue of wild hyacinths , and Largo , where Robinson Crusoe was born , Elie , with Macduff's cave and the rubies on Ruby Beach , and grey St. Andrews , with the links , the ruins , and the castle , and the echoes of the long-ago lullaby :sx Hush thee , hush thee , do not fret thee , The Black Douglas will not get thee .sx We chattered , we pointed out , and compared notes on beaches and sand-castles and spades and shells , and jelly fish , and Miss Gray joined in and told us stories of Macduff , and Macbeth , and the Black Douglas .sx I had been to the Trossachs , and had seen Ben Lomond , " Ellen's isle " and the " Silver " , so when the poetry lesson was from The Lady of the Lake the pictures in my mind flashed into unforgettable words .sx Lessons ?sx These things were at the heart of us , and Miss Gray was there with us .sx That's the sort of person she was .sx The same with History .sx History was for Miss Gray , and easily for us , a pageant of heroes and splendour , of pity and even tears .sx Scotland was of course our first love .sx Her history blazoned before our eyes the bravery of Wallace , Bruce and his indomitable spider , Bannockburn , Mary Queen of Scots and best of all , Bonnie Prince Charlie , with tartans waving and banners flying .sx . Little Arthur's England brought us good King Alfred and Harold after a page or two of blue-painted Britons with Druids and mistletoe- and so on to the lion-hearted Richard and his brave Crusaders , and the sad tale , with a pathetic picture , of the little princes in the Tower .sx And , of course , that hero of heroes for all little girls , the glorious and adorable Sir Walter Raleigh , cloak and all .sx We learnt the names of the wives of Henry =8 , we loved Charles =1 and hated Cromwell , and after being a little bored by Queen Anne and the Georges , we ended up comfortably with our own Queen Victoria , and she , in our childish loyalties , was and would be ever the one and only heroine of the National Anthem .sx Little Arthur's England- I have it still .sx I remember how I would open it and read the first words :sx " You know , my dear little Arthur " and then turn to the last page and read the last words :sx " I hope it will help you to understand bigger and better histories bye and bye .sx " I don't know if it was " Little " , but most certainly it was little Miss Gray who helped me to that understanding , awaking in me , sublimely unconscious , interest and energy for tackling these " bigger and better histories " in later years .sx One of our lessons was to read aloud .sx I do not know what children read in school these days , but the people who compiled our reading books must have been as deeply concerned about what we read as about how we read it- for our books were made up of extracts from great writers , interspersed with poetry from the great poets .sx I remember being charmed and amused by the Sir Roger de Coverley papers from the Spectator , while the translation of Pliny's letters to Tacitus describing the eruption of Vesuvius , and the lava pouring down on Pompeii and Herculaneum , must have made so deep an impression that it was still clear at the back of my mind when , many years later , I saw the smoke of Vesuvius above the Bay of Naples , and stood among the ruins of the cities .sx Of all the valuable things we learnt in those early days in " the little Schoolroom " nothing , I think , was more valuable than the poetry , which we not only got by heart , but , stirred by Miss Gray's enthusiasms , also took to heart , laying the foundations of a love of poetry which has ever remained with me .sx Can I ever forget the stimulating joy of standing up and reciting :sx ~Cannon to right of them , Cannon to left of them , Volleyed and thundered .sx and all the time seeing in my mind's eye that brave Brigade , galloping , galloping into immortal glory ?sx " Theirs not to reason why !sx " Neither was it mine- the splendour and the tragedy were all in all .sx And " The Schooner Hesperus !sx " with the ache in my heart for the skipper's little daughter lying on that forsaken beach , The salt sea frozen on her breast , The salt tears in her eye .sx And the appeal of the incorruptible Casabianca , standing alone amid the flames , preferring death to disobedience !sx Oh , the pity of it !sx I felt it , Miss Gray felt it , we all felt it .sx I think we regarded the " Queen of the May " rather in the light of a distinguished stranger , for no Queens of May ever reigned in Scotland , but we liked her , and sympathised with her eager desire to be up and doing- the lilt of her lines was easy to learn , and she lilted so many touching and interesting things that we could only rejoice when she , having " thought to pass away before " went on living and lilting for quite a page or two longer .sx Then for rollicking fun , could anything beat " John Gilpin and his " , and that gay picnic at the " The Bell " at Edmonton , and the screaming from the balcony when the wigless John went flashing by on his run-away steed ?sx And surely there was no resisting the charm of the dashing " Young Lochinvar " and his fair Ellen ?sx " One touch to her hand , and one word in her ear " ( and couldn't one just see the glint in his eye !sx ) and in a trice they're off and away , all the wedding guests coming helter-skelter behind them !sx Then ho !sx for the " racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee !sx " How we all laughed !sx How Miss Gray laughed !sx In gentler strain , could anything be sweeter than that dear little brook telling its own story and how it came " from haunts of coot and " , chatter-chattering its way to " join the brimming " ?sx I knew quite a lot of chattering brooks myself .sx And I think that even we , young as we were , felt the strain of music linked with infinity in the haunting refrain :sx For men may come and men may go .sx But I go on for ever .sx Many another poem could I speak of which sang itself into my heart and memory .sx But for me , best of all , the ever delightful blacksmith in his smithy " under a spreading chestnut " .sx Best for me , because I actually knew a blacksmith , just like Longfellow's , minus the chestnut tree , who lived on Tweedside in a jewel of a tiny village called Clovenfords , where I was taken every spring .sx My father and my brothers put up at the Inn , where Hogg the Ettrick Shepherd , and Sir Walter Scott , had put up before them- but Louis and I and Ann lived in the village blacksmith's cottage , with the smithy next door , and through the wall we could hear the bellows blowing and the horses stamping .sx My blacksmith too , had " large and sinewy " - " swiney " as one of my own children misread it- and often did I stand and watch him shoeing a horse , and was allowed to put my small hands on the bellows and help blow the fire .sx So it is of my Clovenfords blacksmith , dark-eyed and black-bearded , in his smithy among the hills , that Longfellow brings back the memory .sx At ten o'clock Miss de Dreux rang the big brass bell in the hall .sx She did this every hour until two o'clock , when the day-girls went home .sx At the sound of the bell , doors would open and release girls talking and laughing ; feet ran to and fro , as we all changed rooms for different classes .sx Each hour , silence changed to noise , and noise again to silence .sx A memory stays with me , of arriving late one morning to find all doors closed against me , like the gates of doom .sx The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed an echo of my anxiously beating heart .sx I could hear the voice of Mr. Robertson in the salle a@3 manger , and perhaps the German tones of Madame Kunz in the grande salle with the Senior German class .sx Upstairs and down I heard the muffled sound of pianos , hesitating scales , or stumbling sonatas , and the guttural German voices of Miss Wehle and Miss Javrova the music teachers- all very awe-inspiring for an anxious culprit .sx In the grande salle , from ten to eleven o'clock , Mr. Robertson taught writing and arithmetic .sx Seated at one of the long desks , I had my first thrill with real ink and a quill pen .sx Oh , the spluttering of that pen !sx And the messiness of the thin pink papier buvard that soaked up the blots !sx And the pages of alphabetical moral maxims we scratched and blotted in out copy-books !sx For our sums we used slates , and slate-pencils , which would often give out a horrible screech as our small hands slipped on a line or figure , and this would be echoed by a screech of agony from everybody in the room .sx We did a great deal of rubbing out with the torchon , helped by a lick from a finger .sx Mr. Robertson had a long red beard and whiskers which tickled my neck as he bent over me correcting my sums .sx . We had out first French lessons from Miss de Dreux .sx Hall's First French Course , all masculines and feminines , troublesome conjugations , and exercises to write at home .sx Before very long we were reading Un Philosophe sous les Toits- I cannot remember the author , but I know I had a sort of affection for that old philosopher and his meditations under his roofs .sx It was dear Miss Bogen who gave us our first German lessons , only vocabulary , no books .sx She was a sweet , kind creature and we all loved her .sx Later on , when Madame Kunz took us over , German became important , with Weisse's Grammar , Schiller , Goethe's " Faust " and Heine's poetry .sx But even in these early days we were growing daily more familiar with speech both in French and German .sx Then of course , there was music .sx There were two piano mistresses , both German , both very plain , both admirable teachers , though severe , both trained at Leipzig Conservatoire , which in those days was considered the last word for training " in all kinds of " .sx Miss Javrova , who taught us little ones , had a very long nose .sx Though she was strict , she was kind and appreciative of effort .sx I was a nervously conscientious child , and took my practising seriously .sx " You must play this ten times " , Miss Javrova would say , pointing with relentless fingers to a jumble of crotchets and quavers .sx