The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-07-02
THE MINISTER'S OLD COAT.

out badly" said I to a gentleman who
sat next to me in the car. We had met
In the train, bound for Chicago, and had
struck up an acquaintance. He stopped
me with his hand on my arm and with
an earnest look which I shall never for
get. I paused at once in what was say
ing, and it seemed for moment almost
as if the rushing train had stopped to
listen too.
'Let me tell you story" he said. 81
know it is a common belief that min
listers sons are wild, but that is because
people talk about the bad ones, while
those who turn out well are taken as
matter of course I gathered statistics
about them, once, and found that out of
q thousand sons of ministers, there were
very few who did not grow up useful and
industrious men,"
ssBut what is your story p asked,
settling back in my seat.
"Well," said he, s'it begins with a
class supper in Boston, dozen years
ago. A number of old college friends
had gathered in the evening for their
annual reunion. Among them was the
rich merchant, J. E. Williston-perhaps
you have heard of him-and a poor pas
tor of country church in Elmbank vii
Iage, out in Western Massachusetts,,
whose name was Blake. A good many
of the class had died, and the dozen or
so elderly men who were left felt more
tender than ever toward each other as
they thought of the bright days at Har-
ward, and how soon no one would be left
on earth who shared in that happy time.
The dishes came and went, the light
glowed brilliantly, and at last the friends
grew quite gay. But the tender feeling
r lo-o s,>obay, &C xuou1d o0na rrnar-
most, now and then; and in one of these
musing moments Will1ston's eye was at
tracted by something glistening about
the coat which his friend Blake, who sat
next to him, had on. He looked closer,
and saw that the black cloth of which
the coat was made had been worn so thin
and smooth that 1t was very shiny.
"sWell, Blake said he, suddenly,
taking hold of his friends arm cordially
(which he somehow hadn't thought of
doing before), how has the world gone
with you, lately?'
"Blake had q naturally sad and
thoughtful face; but he looked around
quickly, with warm smile.
mo need to ask, he said, laughingly.
You can read the whole story on my
back This old coat is a sort of balance
sheet, which shows my financial condi-
tion to T.
''Then he spoke more seriously, add
ing: 1T is a pretty hard life. Williston,
that of country parson. don't COM
plain of my lot, though sometimes I'm
distressed for my family. The fact is,
this coat I've got on is hardly fit for a
man of my profession to appear in; but
Tn going to send my boy Sam to Har-
ward this year, and must pinch here and
there to do it. I really ought to be
thankful, though, that I can get such
advantages for him by few little sacri-
fees of personal appearance and con-
yenience.'
"sDon't you give thought of your
coat, old fellow, returned Williston.
Nobody who knows you will ever
imagine that the heart inside of it is
threadbare, however the garment may
look
"Blake was pleased with this kindly
expression; and both men, after that ex-
change of confidence, felt happier. But,
among the various incidents of the even
ing, this one almost passed out of the
minister's mind by the next day, when
he started for Elmbank. Speedy as his
return was, however, something meant
for him had got to his destination before
him. It was letter. Taking it up he
broke open the envelope, and found in
side q few words from Williston, with a
check for $500 to defray the first years
college expenses of his old classmates
son.
"You are stranger to me, sir, said
my travelling companion, at this point,
'sbut I think you will appreciate the
feeling with which poor Mr.. Blake stood
in his bare and dingy study in the old
farm house parsonage, holding that let
ter in his hand, and lifting his faithful
eyes in thankfulness to God"
eyes," replied. "Williston did just
the right thing, too. And how was it
Did the son show that he deserved the
help2"
Ny acquaintance looked away from me
at the rich country through which we
were passing. Then he said: ssSam
Blake was good-natured, obedient fell
low enough, and was greatly pleased to
have the expense of his first college year
taken off his fathers shoulders; but his
sense of duty didn't go very far. Rev.
Mr.. Blake bought new coat, and Sam
entered Harvard that fall; and there
matters stopped for awhile.
ga freshman has great deal to learn,
as you know; but think the chief thing
Sam learned that term was the great
difference there is between Harvard and
q little village like Elmbank, and the
great difficulty of working and playing
at the same time Here he had society
meetings to attend, and rooms of his
own, with chum, where good deal of
smoking was done by himself and his
friends. And then there was base ball,
into which it appeared indispensable for
the honor of the class that he should enter
actively, on account of his strong legs,
wonderful wind and ground batting. He
could not refuse to go to the theater oc-
casionally, with his richer companions
Sam took natural interest in the society
of young ladies, too, and had to give up
some time to its cultivation. He also
thought moderate amount of practice in
the gymnasium was desirable, to prevent
his health breaking down under the con-
fnement of study. So, on the whole,
the actual work that he did in the coll
lege was not very extensive. This didn't
seem to have any bad effect till well
along in the winter, when the habit of
shirking work had grown SO strong, with
out his noticing 1t, that he fell easily
into reading novels when he ought to
have been in the recitation room.
Gymnasium, theater, billiards, smoking
land am afraid must say a little
drinking -frittered away his time.