Mary Gray Morrison

Biographical details

Mary Gray Morrison Popular Science Monthly (1881)

It is strange that all children, coming from whatever place or condition, have these natural gestures alike when they enter the school. The quick motions of the little fingers, as they tell a long story in this way, remind one of humming-birds.
The children are as different from one another as hearing children are. Some are so pretty that artists might covet them, little ones who have not yet learned to speak, but who look up at you silently, statues in which the soul is to awake; others, dwarfed and distorted in figure, have a look of dull despair, too old for childhood.
Source: Wikisource

Mary Gray Morrison Popular Science Monthly (1881)

Insult among them can go no further than this, and the teacher is summoned by the wail of the accused.
Their misfortune keeps them, in a large measure, from understanding the distinctions of rich and poor, differences it is so sad to see, made sometimes by children as soon as they can stand alone. The little dainty daughter of a house whose one great cross is this child's deprivation, admires with loving touch the golden hair of her school friend whose shoes are worn at the toes, and whose dress tells its own story of the mother's poverty and overwork.
Source: Wikisource

Mary Gray Morrison Popular Science Monthly (1881)

For a long time after children enter the school they think their fathers and mothers and teachers are all like themselves, and have learned to speak in the same way as they are being taught. This delusion lasts for some time, but generally fades out gradually. Once in a while, however, it comes as a shock. One of the younger pupils who still had this idea, as she sat watching her teacher and a visitor, noticed apparently that the teacher sometimes spoke to the new-comer without looking at her, and that she answered in the same way.
Source: Wikisource

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