"Time to pack it in, sonny boy, and give the readers a break," he chirped. "You've been at this long enough. Seven years."

"Don't remind me," I said, "but something has just come up that might be good for a few inches of type. It seems that Saratoga School is going to observe its 150th anniversary during the 2004­05 school year. A real sesquicentennial."

"Hm-m-m," said Sam. "That would be 1854. About the time you were a pupil there, wasn't it?"

"Please," I said. "I admit to being old, but not that old. I started first grade there—no kindergarten then—in September 1929."

"Ye gods," exclaimed Sam. "You started in September 1929? Why, the following month, the stock market crashed, initiating the Great Depression. Think of the deprivation, the misery. You were right there."

"Are you trying to suggest some kind of causal connection?" I asked.

"I didn't say that," said Sam, "but it would be interesting to know how things might have turned out if, in your case, your parents had opted for home schooling."

Sam's totally irrelevant ranting did accomplish one thing: It sent me to the Augean Stables to dig up whatever old documents I had concerning Saratoga Grammar School, a.k.a. Oak Street School, a.k.a. Saratoga Elementary School. Augean Stables, of course, is my name for the stacks of material, much of it useless, that I simply can't discard. The reference is to Hercules' sixth labor in cleaning years of animal waste from the stables of King Augeus of Elis.

The stables came through. There was nothing from the school's earliest days but there was a copy of Vol. 1, No. 1 of the student paper, Aero Vista, for February 1930, with Olivia de Havilland as editor. Initially, the object was to publish the paper monthly, and from its appearance, it was printed on a mimeograph, a duplicating machine that used stencils cut on a typewriter.

I don't know how many of those monthly papers were printed. The next one I have, from June 1931, was in the yearbook format that survived for many years. It was professionally printed and it contained, in addition to accounts of the year's various activities, things like the Class Will and the Class Prophecy. Editor of the 1931 Aero Vista was Louise Garrod, now Cooper. Associate editors were Cecily Fisher, now Kyes, and Joan de Havilland, now Fontaine. Joan also designed the "Going up" cover, depicting the progression from Saratoga Grammar to Los Gatos High School.

An example of the brand of humor in the class prophecies was the one for me in June 1937: "Willys Peck is going to be a famous athlete. He will wear a chest protector so that he won't get hurt breaking the tape." The gimmick, of course, was that I was a dud at sports.

It goes without saying that the school of these earlier times was infinitely smaller than today's. The surviving, undated picture of the 1854 schoolhouse, which was the original Sons of Temperance lodge hall, shows what appear to be 29 pupils and three adults. In the graduation list for 1924, there are 14 listed. In my own 1937 graduating class there were 21.

Discipline, too, is another aspect of school life that has changed markedly over the years. I'm not sure of the source, but I have a copy of a document, "Record of corporal punishment for the years 1865 and 1866." Some examples of the offenses: whispering (worth corporal punishment?), "imposing upon small scholars," telling a falsehood, and, get this, "fighting the teacher."

Just how corporal the punishment got is a matter for conjecture, but I have an idea it was pretty heavy stuff. In my own time, I remember one of our teachers who'd fetch an offending kid a swat with a ruler. Once, she happened to have two rulers in hand and when one of them dropped, she kept it up with the other.

Well, I know that when the time comes for the sesquicentennial observance there will be a lot of reminiscing going on, and with one overall conclusion: We got one mighty fine elementary education at Saratoga School, and they no doubt did over a century ago.