The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1864-08-15

At the end Of the last bench upon my class sat
q boy who was very backward in his learning.
He was continually absent upon what seemed 70
be frivolous pICtences. These absences entaled
upon me much additional trouble. ] had Occl-
sionally 20 keep him and little remnant in the
room when the others had gone out to play, TO
make up TO him and them for lost time. And on
one ion my look was very cross, and my
speech very short, for It seemed to me provoking
that children should be so backward in their
Latin. And when the work was over, and VIC
two were left alone, lac followed me to my desk
and said :--"Y have 10 idea sir, how weak l
am" And l said -" Why my boy, you look
stout enough" But he answered -" am really
very weak, sir, far weaker than / look" And
there was a pleading earnestne,s in bis words
that touched me to the heart; and, afterwards,
there was an unseen chord of sympathy that
bound the master to the pupil, who was still very
dull at Latin.
And still he would be absent; at times, for a
day or two together. But il excited no surprise.
For the boy seemed to sit almost n stranger
among his fellows, and in play hours seemed to
take no interest in bOyish games. Aud by and
by he had been absent for some weeks together.
But was afraid to ask concerning him, thinking
he might have been removed, as many boys have
been, without a letter OF explanation or his
shaking me by the hand. And one morning
received letter with broad black edge, telling
me that he had died the day previously Of II Vru-
lent contagious fever.
So when school was over / made my way 10
his whilOm lodging, and stood at the door, pom
derng Forthe fever of which the child had died
had been to me q dCath-in-liie, and had passed
ik the angel Of old over my dwelling, but, unlike
that angel, had spared my first-bOm and only
born. And because the latter sat each evening
on my knee Twas afraid of the fever, and in
tended only TO leave my card, as mark of
respectful sympathy. But the good woman of
The house said :-"Nay, nay, sir, but yen see the
| laddie;" and l felt drawn by an influence of
fatheThood more constrainiDg than fathers
| fears, and followed the good woman into the
small and dim chamber where my pupil was
lying. And, as | passed the threshold, my
masteThCod slipped off me like n loose robe
and / stood, very humble and pupil-like, in
that awful presence, that teacheth wisdom to
babes and sucklings to which our treasured lore
is but Dkling Of vain words.
And, when left alone, drew near the cherries
/ and dismanted bed, onwhich my pupil lay aseer
in his early coffin And he looked very calm and
happy as though there had been 10 him no pain In
passing from world where he had had few com
| pgnions and very little pleasure. And knew
| that his EOyhood had been as dreary as 1t had
| been short; and thought that the good woman
| of his lodging had perhaps been his only sympa
| tbizing friend at hand. And l communed witt
myself whether aught l had done could have
| made his dullness more dull And felt thank
full for the word Of sy mpa,hy tina. had united US
unseen, for little while. But, in a strange anC
| painful way, stood rebuked before the calm anC
| solemn and rehuking face of the child on whoH
| ! had frowned for his being backward 10 hi
| Latn.-Ddy Dreams of Scho0lmaSter