The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1880-12-14
Selert Shrg.
The Ministers Old Coat.

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 / shall never forget.
paused at once in what was saying and
it seemed for moment as if the rushing
train had stopped to listen too.
"Let me tell you a story" he said. al
know it is q common belief that minis
ter's sons are wild, but that is because
people talk about the bad ones, while
those who turn, out well are taken ss a
mater OF course I gathered statistics
about them once, and l found that out
OF ene thousand sons OF ministers there
we're very few who did not grow up use
ful ana industrious men,"
E"But what is your story 2" / asked,
settling hack in my seat.
"Well," said he, 'it begins with class
supper in Boston dozen years ago. A
number of old college friends had gath
cred in the evening for their annual re-
union Among them was the rich mer-
chant, j. E. Williston-perhsps you
have heard of him-and poor pastor
of country church in Elmbank village,
out in Western Massachusetts, whose
name was Blake. A good many of the
class had died and the dozen or so elder
ly men who were left felt more tender
than ever toward each other as they
thought Of the bright old days at Har-
ward, ard how soon no one would be left
on earth who shared in that happy time.
The dishes came and went, the lights
glowed brilliantly, and at last the friends
grew quite CAV. But the tender feeling
have spoken OF would c ,meuppermost
now and then; and in one Of these mus
ing moments Williston's eye was attract
ed by something glistening about the
coat which his friend Blake. who sat
npxt to him, had on. He looked closer
and saw that the black cloth Of which
the Goa. was made had been worn so
thin and smooth that 1t was very shiny.
"sWell, Blake, said he, suddenly, TAX
ing hold OF his friends arm cordially
which he somehow hadn't thought OF
doing before), how has the world gone
with you lalelv7'
."Blake had naturally sad and
lhoughtful face; but be looked around
quickly with warm emile.
,"'No need to ask he said laughingly.
You can read the whole story on my
hack. This old coat is sort of balance
sheet which shows my financial condi-
ton to t.
'"rhen he spoke more seriously, add
ing: 1t is 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
man OF my profession TO appear in, but
I'm going TO send my boy Sam to Har-
ward this year and must pinch here and
there to do it. / really ought TO be
though, that.I can get such ad-
vantages for him by few little sacrifices
of personal appearance and conyen-
ience.
"'Don't you give thought of your
coat, old fellow" returned Williston.-
Nobody who knows yon will ever i'm
agine that the heart inside Of it is
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 eve
ming this one almost passed out of the
minister's mind by the next day when he
started for Elmbank Speedy as his re-
turn was, however, something meant for
him had got to his destination before
him. 1t was letter. Taking it up he
broke open the envelope and found in
side Q few words from Willislon with Q
check for $500 to defray the irst years
college expenses OF his old classmates
son:
2 '.You are stranger, to me, sir" said
my travelling companion at this point,
shut think you will appreciate the feel
ing with which poor Mr.. Blake stood in
bis bare and dingy study in the old farm
parsonage, holding that letter in his
hand and lifting his eyes in thankfulness
to Cod"
s.Yes," I replied "Wiliston did just
the right thing. too. And how was 1t ?
Did the son show that he deserved the
help2"
NV acquaintance looked away from
me at the rich country through which
We were passing. Then be ssid:
."Sam Blake was a good-natured, obe-
dient fellow enough. and was greatly
pleased to. have the expense of his FIRST
college year taken of his fathers shoul-
ders; but his sense of duty didn't 60
very far. Rev Mr.. Blake bought new
coat, and Sam entered Harvard that fall /;
and there matters stopped fot awhile.
IA freshman has great deal to learn,
as You know: but / think the cLief thing
Sam learned that term was the great dif-
ference there is between Harvard ard a
little village like Elnbank. and the great
difficulty of working and playing at the
same time Here he had society meet
inss TO attend, and rooms Of his own
with a chum, where good deal Of smok-
ing was done by himself and his friends
And then there was baseball, into which
1t appeared indispensable for the honor
of his class that he should enter active-
ly, on account of his strong legs won
derful wind and ground batting He
could not refuse tn go to the theater Oc-
cssionally, with his richer companions.
Sam took natural interest in the society
of young ladies, too, and had to give up
some time to it's cultivation. He also
thought a moderate amount Of practice
in the gymnasium was desirable, to pre-.
vent his health from breaking down un-
der the confinement Of study. So, on
he whole, the actual work that he did in
the college 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 go
strong without bis noticing it that he fell
easily into residing novels when he ought
to have been in the recitation ROOM
Gymnasium, theater. billiards, smosing
and I am afraid | must say little
drinking-frittered away his time.
Zone horrible snowy, sleeiy morning
when he had got up too late for prayers
the postman brought him a note from