St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1879-07-11
flor Me Children.
Green Covers and Brown.

| w utu was Wei, Snldii oOJ, wac
rumaging one day in a closet in my
mothers house, and came upon little
book with bright green covers. !
thought that must be treasure indeed ;
for there were not many books in the
house, of any kind, and there were
none at all that would be specially
attractive to child. This seemed to
be just about the right size for little
boy, and its cover was certainly very
pretty.
Speaking of covers, learned better
than to judge of book from its out
side, by a severe lesson which came a
few years later. A lady visiting at our
house asked me what school l attend
ed, who was the teacher, and what
were my studies. In answer to the
last question l mentioned, among other
things, philosophy. "What philosophy
do you study r. said she. Now it hap
pened that the particular book which l
used had been covered with brown
paper to keep it neat, and this, of
course, concealed the title, for which
| had never troubled myself to look.
So gave the lady the only description
in my power, by answering, "Brown-
covered" The family were greatly
amused at my simplicity, and have
not yet heard the last of my new science
of BrOwn-covered Philosophy.
Well, to go back to the little green
book. If / had been attracted by the
ing to the title-page. 1t seemed to me
that no subject could be so romantic
for book as 1.-THE Deserted Village"
and no name so beautiful for an author
as Oliver Goldsmith.
l sat down on the floor, and turned
over the leaves, but was disappointed.
1t was poety! 1 had an idea that
poetry was always very difficult to I'M
derstand, and | took it for granted that
it would be great folly for little boy
to attempt it. So l did not even try
to read single line, but promised my
self that when l grew up, and was
learned enough to understand poetry,
l would read that little green book.
l did not know then, what have
learned since, that some of the finest
poetry we have is among the simplest
things in the language, most easily
eOmprehended and longest remember
ed. This very poem is case in point.
L had grown up, and had read 1t a
great many times i'll other editions,
when one day, as | was sitting in my
office, the little green-covered copy
came to my mind. | wrote home to
have the old house searched for it, but
it could not be found. Then l wrote
to sister who had moved to far
Western State, and to my great joy
she found it among the things she had
carried to her new home, and sent it to
me.
When it arrived, my first glance in
side of it was at the bottom of the
title-page, and 10 the little book had
been printed and published in that very
office, five years before l was born, and
by the gentleman who had occupied
before me the chair in which 1 was
sitting.
The little green covers are sadly
faded and the leaves are yellow with
time; but it is the most highly priced
of any volume on my shelf of poetry. |
Time cannot dim the beauty of the
poem, and the memory of its author
will be forever green. He was born
about three years before Washington,
and has been dead almost century /; |
but the number of his readers has never
diminished. He was very much laugh
ed at and ridiculed for his personal |
oddities and his life was unhappy and
unsatisfactory but he did great deal
to make other people happy. He would
give away his money, his dinner, or his
clothes, whenever he saw anybody in
distress, and he wrote some of the most
enjoyable books that ever were printed.
One reason why like him is because
he didn't write long, tedious things,
that you have to sit up ever so many
nights to read through, and forget the
beginning before you reach the end.
If you open your geography at the
map of Ireland, and put the point of
your pencil exactly in the center of
that island, it will not be far from the
scene of 'The Deserted Village" which
hope you will all read without waiting
to grow up first. The poem calls the
village ''Auburn," but its true name
was 'Lissoy;" and it was the place
where the poet lived in childhood
Rossiter johnson st. Nicholas TOR july.