As early as the autumn of 1862, I was made very happy by being sent to school.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My school days were the happiest days of my life; which should give you some indication of the misery I've endured over the past twenty-five years.
I was sent to a school because my father was already aware that his days were numbered, and he was anxious for me to acquire a good education and follow in his footsteps.
August used to be a sad month for me. As the days went on, the thought of school starting weighed heavily upon my young frame. That, coupled with the oppressive heat and humidity of my native Washington, D.C., only seemed to heighten the misery.
I had a very happy childhood.
My early education was in the public school system of Omaha, where, retrospectively, I realize that my high school training served me in good stead for the basic subjects of mathematics, English, foreign languages and history.
I loved nearly all my teachers; but it was not till I went home to live at Oxford, in 1867, that I awoke intellectually to a hundred interests and influences that begin much earlier nowadays to affect any clever child.
I was a good student in school.
The summer of 1943 at Exeter was as happy a time as I ever had in my life.
I love school. I was a great student.
It was in the year 1820, when I was nearly nine years old, that I first went to a regular school.