Last week I introduced you to my great-great grandmother, Jessie Lyman Eckert. You can read the first post here.
Jessie Lyman was born January 2, 1877. She graduated from Westport High
School (Westport, MO, now part of Kansas City) in 1897 at the head of
her class. From what I have read of her diaries so far, it appears she
went on to teach school for a couple years in Columbia, MO. She married
Herman Eckert in June of 1899. On July 26, 1900, she died giving birth
to twins Conrad and Cornelia at the age of 22. Conrad is my mother's
Sept. 29 
The day was very hot and I had two classes in which I explained subjects which really seemed hard for them. I hardly knew whether to try it or not, but an explanation was necessary to a clear understanding of the subject.
The pupils seemed to understand it very readily too. I have taught them the tides, winds, ocean currents, continental structure, and origin of the parts of speech as well as the similarity between North and South America. They seem to take an interest in them, and think very quickly. It seems to be different from anything they ever heard before. Miss Watson's teaching helps me a great deal.
I was very tired when I got home, and went to bed about seven o'clock.
Another hot day without a drop of rain. The roads are very dusty. I was not so tired this as I was last evening.
I went down to the sorghum mill this evening. We watched the grinding of the cane, and saw them stir off a lot of sorghum, then we took knives and scraped the box. We rode home in the big wagon after a mule team. I got my hands covered with molasses.
Mark -- He hit me on the back of the neck with a book, and stuffed some paper down my back.
Logan -- "I didn't either."
Mark -- "You did too."
Teacher -- "Well Logan, what did you do?"
Logan -- "I just stuck a stick down his back."
Teacher -- "What did you do Mark."
Mark -- "I didn't do a thing. I couldn't reach him."
The children were given the following sentence and required to fill out the blanks:
I slide on my ______.
Most of the sentences read "I slide on my new sled," or something similar. Logan's -- "I slide on my cellar door."
Aunt Florence started for a visit of three days in Callaway Co. this afternoon. I am to be chief cook and bottle washer during her absence.
I have made out my first month's report to the school board and expect to get $35, all my own for this long month of work. Won't I be rich?
I got up at five o'clock and got breakfast this morning. The boys say I am a first rate cook. Well, I don't intend to let them go on cold meals all the while.
I washed the dishes, took care of the milk, washed my duck skirt for the first time, and then did the house work. I don't know how my skirt will look -- I never made starch before. My wash woman's little boy came with my washing while I was washing my dress. I don't know what he thought. I didn't want to trust her with my skirt for the first time.
While I was upstairs doing the work, one of the Kirtz boys came to say that Aunt Florence's horse had got away at their house and that Aunt Florence was coming home -- would be here in a few minutes. I was sorry for her, but I was glad to see her, as I was very tired.
I went to town in the afternoon, got my money, bought a few articles and came home. In the evening we went over to Logan's "show". I road behind Francis on George. It was much better than walking through the dust. Logan's show was a decided success -- very original and extremely provocative of mirth. The phonagraph [sic] was the feature of the evening. Anderson looked too sweet with his little blue shirt with short sleeves and low neck, and his little blue trousers.
I would just like to interject at this point and say that I love that she cannot spell her schwas, despite being a teacher herself. Perhaps it is genetic?
More to come...