The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1872-03-21
A Teachers Influence.


ssBY MARY A. P. HUMPHREY.
r erase
It was not an attractive scheolroom
The bare walls were guiltless of white
wash, and the knife-marks on desks
and benches-like those strange ex.
humed bird tracks of the old Red
Sandstone showed where the first
rnde outlines had been traced of many
a life hidden, long ago, under the de-
bris of years.
t Across the the lower half of every
window sqnare of faded green
baize had been tackled closely to the
easement, lest some pair of child eyes
heavy with reviewing the endless
lines marshalled with tedions uni
formity on book or slate, should rest
awhile upon the blessed contrast OF
green fields and gurgling waters.
Miss Warnings eyes darkened with
| Indignation. AS if a school room
was a prison? AS if one lesson from
springing grass, und spreading tree
reaching mp to the life giving sun
shine-one element of modest beauty
in meadow lily and wild rose bud, of
happy trust in tender bird. provident
4 VI Cal C-t1CC OOoA0
be spared from the place where young
minds should learn to expand and
grow, young hearts to aspire and yet
be humble. young lives to assume the
diyinely appointed relations of faith
and work.
But the schooI-room, like many
other things of unpromising exterior
was rich in possibilities. Miss War
10 INN Of crroh
intangible wealth, and nodded to her.
self from her little chair of state upon
the platform.
The offending baize, its faded ugli-
ness yelled by short curtains of cheap
white muslin, might be made 10 do
good service higher up the windows,
in softening the glare of. the midday
sunshine. The broad window inches
gave ample room for pots of ivy, wan
'dering Jew, and Madeira vine, need
ing only time and care to improvise
festoons and draperies more graceful
than the most elaborate designs of the
old tapestries.
Then, in her portfolio-for the little
school mistress thought with her eye
and hand-she remembered some IL
Illuminated texts. bright as the pages
of an old missal; sketches, too, in
pencil and colors, simple bits, which
the children could get at the heart of,
waiting only to be framed with the
cones aud w1llow-withes they would
be only too glad to gather for her on
the first half-holliday. Their own
hands should help to weave and bind,
they should have voice in the hang
ing and general arrangement; for this
home making, she thought, like the
rest of the worlds work, must be CO.
operative, if it really were to be worth
anything.
The sound of footsteps and voices
broke in upon her morning dream,
and the pleasant vision of the reno
vated room faded into the light of the
days duties.
The scholars came by twos and
threes, gathering in and about the
half-open door, with shy, curious
glances at the new teacher.
Children are the most unerring
physiognomists, since no others are
SO helplessIy dependent upon the
varying moods, which leave unfailing
imprint on the face. A few bolder
ventured inside, in advance of her
pleasant invitation to all. Two or
three offered little punches of wild
flowers, dewey and sweet, making her
cheek flush with pleasure. Ever since
she could remember, flowers had been
her friends; she knew them by heart,
aud had q fancy more clearly defined
than she would have been willing to
confess, that they, in turn, understood
her, when human sympathy failed
The Germans call their fragrance the
"speech of flowers" Miss Waring
placed her own eloquent treasures in
cracked tumbler, which a little girl
found for her in the anteroom, and
more than once, amid the cares and
anxieties of the !" first day." their
freshness and beauty entered into her
heart, and kept it strong.
You'll be apt to have some trouble
with Hal Thorn, the Deacen's boy"
widow Moss, her hostess, had said to
her that morning, over the breakfast
coffee.
g He is a bad boy, then ?"
Yes, cares for nothing or nobody.
His father can't keep him in school
half the time. A smart lad, too, and
quick with his books, when he choos-
es. How well / remember the Sun
day his mother first led him into
meeting. He was scarcely more than
baby, and so bright and pretty-the
people turned in their seats to get a
second look at his laughing face. Lit
| tie she thought, poor woman, of how
he would be growing up J"
"Mrs. Thorn is not living, 1 think
heard ?u said Miss Waring.
"Oh, no! She died-let me think
it will be ten years come Christmas.
Hal must be fourteen-how the wears
| fly! The deacon never married again"
! went on the good woman, fairly
launched upon the tide of gossip
Mary, she's the oldest-keeps house.
Susan married Falconer-her boy
helps his father on the farm; he's the
deacon right over, real chip of the
old block. Hal is the youngest.
Would it have been the same with
Hal if his mother had lived do you
think ?"
perhaps not. She was a quiet
woman, was Mrs. Them, but it al ways
seemed to me as it her Don't went
farther with the children than a
thrashing from their father. The dea-
con holds stiff rein. Why! Hal got
into tussel with butcher Barton's
Pete one day, and between them some
way a stone crashed through Reuben
Browns plate glass, Hal declared he
didn't throw the stone, but Pete's two
little brothers swore they saw him.
The deacon said that if Hal would
fight he wouldn't help him out OF
trouble, and let him go to jail.
Hal is quick as gunpowder, and
he isn't afraid of ANYBODY when his