Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1857-12-02
MISCELL A n Y
The Old Pedagogue.
by sYLvANUs COBB, JR.

III
thrilling incidents, let the reader find interest in
the fact that it is true story | write it with
the absolute assurance that many will read it
who not only know the incidents here recorded.
but who also know all tie parties well, and they
will bear me witness that write these things
as they actually happened.
Henry Loomis was young man not over
five and. d.twenty, who had just opened a store in
his native village. There were already two dry
rood. stores in the place, but the town was
growing, and Henry believed he could make a
handsome business by opening third. He had
been married about year, having taken for his
wife one who had been his sch0ulmate, and one
who had been brought up from infancy close by
him. Winter had come, and Henry had been IN
business for himself six months. Thus lar he
had done well. People liked him, and lie had
done enough TO support him aud something o.
yer.
O.e evening he and his wife sat in their com.
Portable parlor before their well filled CRATE, and
the latter held her infant npon her knee.
"How it SHOWS" uttered Hurry, at the same
time turning his gaze upon the lair lace OF his
good wife.
ut is severe storm, Henry; indeed it is
Oh how pity any one who has no home on
such night this"
AVE, Sarah, they deserve pity. G"d grant
that there may he hone such III the ne'ghbor-
hood"
"By the way, Henry, have yon seen old Uncle
Adam Z" asked his vile after Il short pause.
mo, have not. | heard Yesterday that he
had returned. should really like IN see him.
Good old man! / never think ut him but with
gratitude"
Hardly had the young man spoken when the
door bell rung, AMI in Il lew minutes more Tile
servant girl announced that an old man wished
TO See Mr.. Loumi>. Henry directed her 10 show
him right in, for ihe feeling possessed him AT
once that il was Uncle Adam. And SD it prov
ed.
Uncle ADAM" the yoath cried, starting from
his chair and catching The old mans hand, "iiow
do you do2 ! am happy To see yon-l am sure.
Is. And don't you remember lltile SARAH Jones Z
the little blue eyed girl that used To set copies
tor you after your eyes got dim and your hand
urenulous2 Here she is-Saral Lnumls now."
IL WAS really II pleasant meeting, and the old
man clasped The Young wifes hand warmly
llewa happy, and yet there was u tear III his
eye.
Adam Wilson had been the village pedagogue
in that town for many years. twenty years
previous to the opening of our story he was the
teacher there; aud he had been Il private tutor
IN the place some years before that. 80 that
most OF the young men in the village, and some
ot the older ones, had been his pupils. Ten
years ago he left the place. He had become
rather old to teach, and when the committee
hired new pedagogue he went away None
knew whittier he had gone; and those that
thought of him ut all thought that he was dead.
And now, at the aye of seventy five, he had
come back to the town where he had spent so
many years of his lite.
The young couple made room for him, and
Henry drew great heavy chair to the fire.
Now sit down, and let us talk over old times,
as he resumed his own seat-"Where have you
been since we saw you last, Uncle Adanl'
"Ah, | have been in Il great many places, ="
said the old man. IL have crtSSed the big o.
cean, and spent some years iii Scutland-the
country where Was born. But it didn't seem
like home there, aud after willie | determined
to come back here spent some time in the
city, but all my affections centred in this quiet
village, and here | determined To come. Aud
yet had NO kindred here. But came, for here
| spent the best part al my manhood, and here
We're those | loved. 1t was not until | was set
down ut the village inn That realized how poor
and irendless | was. The thought Of coming
back here had kept my spirits up, but when
came, aud found myself once more in the town.
began 10 look tur ii friend upon whom should
call. 1t WAS then that chill hand was lad up
ON me. My friends! Where were they? |
had not thought at This before | remained at
the inn that night, and on the following day
Went out. | found many whu knew me; many
who took mo warmly 10y the hand; but when
came to hint ut tlIe idea of waiting help in my
old age they turned culdly from me- | told them
| would not 6eg-that asked not charity.
only asked tur sunlething To d,,-suiie work, not
too hard, 10y which could keep my body up
Tor u lew short days might have longer to stay
here Iii this world ul care. The older one, were
too full vi hOinetu make room iur lne, and the
younger ones wanted not the chilling presence
Vf All old man at their heartl>lune All, might
have known this, had stopped to ponder upnli
it before caine; but did not do su. looked
upon the pretty Village as my home, forgetting
ali the while that where no kiudred are, there
can be no huiIle."
"You are wrong, Uncle ADAM" returned
Henry quickly. Il hope there are many here
who would be pleased lu give YOU II home; but
you shall not look further. You shall find Il
home here my kind old friend us long us you
will stay"
mo, no, Heniy," said the old man. Il will
not force myself upon you. came lu see you
because | could not leave the place without look
ing once more upon yon.'
I'm glad you've come, Uncle ADAM and
you shall not g". Now luuk ye | have store.
Perhaps you would rather be in there once in
while and help me about the lighter work than
to be idle"
"O-l could not live in dleness. | would
rather work than not"