I have had one hundred and seven girls in sewing, this quarter; they
seem as interested in their work as ever. Some of the older girls are
doing well in cutting and basting. We hope to have a class in
dressmaking soon. The little ones are very happy to have sewing days
come. I am often met with the question, "Is us going to sew to-day?" I
meet these forty little ones in a large sunny room, (that is to be our
parlor some day, I hope) for an hour and a half each week. Their eyes
brighten at the sight of the basins of water and the work basket. They
apply themselves as demurely as their elder sisters; they love to sing
little sewing songs and hear stories while they ply the needle.

From a teacher in Beach Institute, Savannah:

One of my new pupils has a name much longer than himself. It is Ulysses
Virginia Lee, and in addition, the surname Smith. Another new boy is
Josie _Mike_, and I think it might well be changed to "Mite," because he
is such a small specimen. He could not tell his age, and we thought him
too much of a baby to come, but took him for a week on trial, and as he
is rapidly learning the ways of the school, we shall let him stay. Last
Friday, while trying to impress upon him that only good behavior would
insure him a desk in my room, I wrote some of his sayings. "Why do you
want to come here to school?" "To larn something." "What if you are
naughty and we send you away?" "Go to other school." "Why did you leave
that other school?" "They won't teach me nothin." In answer to the
question what kind of a boy he intended to be, instead of saying "good"
as I expected, he replied, "I'll be a Beach boy." So he was ready with
an answer to every question, and I am only sorry that I cannot reproduce
for you his little face and the funny inflections of his voice, as he
looked me right in the eye, his own little eyes just dancing with fun.