olmocr/cleaned_old_docs/olmocr_pipeline/61_pg1_pg1_repeat1.md

six hours through five successive days. There was no respite.
The succeeding week commenced the actual term. We had asked the
appointment of one man among the many teachers, on to whose
shoulders could be shifted the heaviest burdens, if desired.

I commenced on Monday with a hoarse, tired voice, something I
had never known. In spite of all palliatives, utterance grew weaker
and more difficult, and finally ceased. The other teachers, and my
own splendid pupils came tenderly to my aid relieving me of
every duty possible to be done. To assure the proper arrangements
and management of the school in its beginning, I hopefully remained
for some weeks at my voiceless post, but it was a vain effort. I
began to realize that the weakening was not entirely confined to the
voice. The labors of the past months had not been a pastime for either
myself or my invaluable helper, and in the midst of protests,
loyal and loving, our resignations were given. We could scarcely say
they were accepted.

I have selected one letter from among my Grand Aunt's papers to show
with what affection and joy she look back on the old school days
in Bordentown.

I have searched through the earliest diaries we have
and find this little entry on the fly leaf:-
Oct. 15/61 Left home for Rtn. (Bordentown)
Oct. 25 Thursday. Commenced school. Attended a weekly at
Mrs. Tailors in the evening.

And in the book of the same little diary I find
May 27/62. Arrived in Bordentown.

Immediately following this little entry is a list of
"Posts from Chaucer to the present day," which fill up
some ten or twelve pages of the little book.