My Kingdom for a Coping Saw

When I was in the fifth or sixth grade, someone in authority decided to brighten the lives of  us school kids with a crafts class.  Whether it was 30 minutes a day or once  a week, I don't remember.  It wasn't a crafts class like one would expect today.  It was highly structured -- boys would use coping saws to cut designs on wood and girls would embroider.  Of course, this was long before feminism; some girls were happy and some girls resented their role very much.  Most boys were satisfied with their craft and I would have been delighted except I did not have a coping saw and no money to buy one.  I had a pocket knife, which was no use unless I whittled on a stick.  As part of the program a coping saw made simply out of a bent rod was available in some rooms for five cents.  It was not offered in my room but was in my sister's.  She took five cents to school and I eagerly awaited the saw, but she came home to report the saw was no longer available.  My memory is fuzzy but I think this program was  soon abandoned and I was rescued from my misery. In any  case, like many supposedly helpful programs, it did not last long.