The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1862-01-15

IA free translation from the Penn'a. Dutt
To-day it is just twenty years
Since sought northern lands,
Now. living still, come to seek
TIL. quaint old school house on the creek
Near Arty's house that stands.
in hundred houses have been,
Of marble, stone or brick,
Yet of those mansions grand and tall,
I'D any day forget them all,
For the school-house on the creek.
He who forsakes the good of home,
In peace I'd let him go:
Still, let me say, ere he sets forth,
Il is all humbug in the North,
AS he full soon will know.
To every corner have been,
And travelled, well or sick,
But ne'er in any spot have found
Such JOY as caused my heart to bound,
In the school house on the creek.
Sweet home-joys here always had
Now as | stand and gaze,
Old scenes before my mem'ry wave,
Old forms arise as from the grave
The ghosts OF vanished days,
The stream plays by just as of old,
When / to blythely played,
And where yon elder shades the stream,
The little fish still gladly CLEAN:
Time yet He change has made.
Still stands the white-oak by the door,
And shades the old roof tree,
The old grapevine, too, still IS green,
And look the swallows nest yet seen
\ strange thing seems to ne.
Over the fields the swallows play
Their game Of first is best"
From gable end so quaint and old,
A house of straw and dirt behold
That is swallows nest!
There lie the young birds very still,
In sleep all scattered round
Wait till some wcr:2 the parent brings,
Then far their shrIl!y twittring rings,
TIL distance hears the sound.
Yes all the scene is as it was,
When here Il boy ranged,
Yet dearer things no more arc he-n,
And all must change and disappear;
| too, myself, have changed.
Like Ossan, by his desolate hail.
| watch the clouds fit by,
And half in ioy-in sorrow half,
Ny tears come trickling. yet laugh,
Your hearts can tell me why.
used to go to this old school,
When but an urchin small;
There was the master on his stool,
There was his switch, and there his rule,
seem to see them all.
The desks, the clothes-rings on the wall,
The School-ro ample bound,
And on this side the big girls sat,
The boys (not half so coy), on hat
See how they peep around.
The masters eye is on them now,
They'd better have care;
That chap who writes the billets-doux,
And he whose tricks the boys amuSe,
And yon lad laughing there!
For big and little, one and all,
Are meath one equal rule,
Which is most just, for who doth break
That canon, must licking take,
Or get turned out of school.
Inside, around the cosy stove,
Sit all the little chaps,
They stud very hard, you see,
For who shall miss his BC,
His ears shall meet hard raps.
Uneasy are the benches high,
Which keep the feet from floor,
ones back feels often strained and sick,
In mat old SchoOl-house on the creek,
And Just dJom right sore.
foor little souls, ah there they sit;
Just think how i'll at ease
It's no wonder, declare
4hey learn SO little, perched up there,
on forms so high as these,
With all the drawbacks, anyhow,
1t was frst-rate school,
For pedagouge in vain you'd look
Like Ours-he's cyphered through the bo
And never skipped rule.
Gross was he; yes Ican't deny,
=. lie logged US all around
Let Let he NEST equal rules observed,
VINO felt the birch, the birch deserved
Completely !-I'll be bound.
Al dinner time, when school was out,
We felt $50 good" just then,
An And some the flying ball did chase,
"hlle some amused them in the race,
And some played soldier men.
hIe olg girls swept the school-room out,
n Ihe boys hung round the spot,
offending but to help about,
out Soon the master drove them ont.
tne rules allowed it not.