And though the museum proper lacked enough bathrooms and gift-shop items to satisfy my finicky charges, the fountain outside was a universal hit.

So my class trooped back down to the 3 train, some of them sopping, most smiling, and I crossed over to the Manhattan side of the platform to make my way to the rest of Friday afternoon.

Before the train pulled away, they spotted me across the tracks and called out in their echoey, just-changed voices, "Good bye Miss!" and I yelled back to them by name. All the people around me glanced over and knew I must be somebody's teacher.