The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1880-03-04
THE MINISTER'S OLD COAT.

ministers sons are very apt to turn
out badly" said L, to the gentleman
who sat next TO me in the car. We
had met in the train, bound for Chi
cago, and had struck up an acquaint-
ance.
He stopped me with his hand on my
arm and with an earnest look which
shall never forget.
| paused at once in what l was say
ing, and it seemed for a moment almost
as if the rushing train had stopped to
listen, too.
"Let me tell you story" he said.
''I know it is n common belief that
minister's sons are wild, but that is be-
cause people talk about the bad ones,
while those who turn out well are taken
as a matter of course. l gathered
statistics about them once, and
found that out of thousand sons of
ministers, there were very few who
did not grow up useful and industrious
men,
"But what is your storyP" 1 asked,
settling back in my seat.
s'WeH," said he, sit begins with n
class-supper in Boston a dozen years
ago. A number of old college friends
had gathered in the evening for their
annual reunion. Among them was the
d.. =.
you have heard of him-and a poor pas
tor of a 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 elderly men who were left felt more
tender than ever toward each other, as
they thought of the bright old days at
Harvard, and how soon no one would
be left on earth who shared in that hap
Ply time. ;.
lights glOwed brilliantly, and at last the
friends grew quite gay. But the tender
feeling have spoken of would come
uppermost, now and then; and in one
of these musing moments Williston' IS
eye was attracted by something glisten-
ing 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
it was very shiny.
"' Well, Blake said he, suddenly
taking hold of his friends arm cordial
ly (Which he somehow hadn't though
of doing before), how has the worlC
gone with you, lately?'
''Blake had naturally sad anC
thoughtful face; but he looked arounC
quickly, with q warm smile.
"'No need to ask, he said, laughing
ly. You can read the whole story OF
my back. This old coat is sort o
balance-sheet, which shows my financia
condition to a T
''Then he spoke more seriously, add
ing, 1T is a pretty hard life, Willistor
that of a country parson. L don't con
plain of my lot, though sometimes II
49, p s., sba f.o =
this coat I've got on is hardly fit for
man of my profession to appear in; bU
I'm going to send my boy Sam to Hal
ward this year, and must pinch here an
there TO do it. | really ought to b
thankful, though, that can get sue
advantages for him by few little sacr
tices of personal appearance and cor
venience.'
Don't you give thought 10 yoU
coat, old fellow returned WillistoI
Nobody who knows YOU will eve
imagine that the heart inside of it
threadbare, however the garment ma
look
"Blake was pleased with this kind
expression; and both men, after that e,
change of confidence, felt happier. Blu
among the various incidents of the evel
ing, this one almost passed out of Il
llllAAiNhNA = iAAAiA - bA1 AAIAb OstNg WIZ
he started for Elmbank.
- Speedy as his return was, howeve
something meant for him had got to Il
destination before him. 1t was a lette
T king it up, he broke open the e
velope. and found inside few wor
rom Williston, with q check for fl
hundred dollars to defrav the first year
college expenses of his old classmatC
son.
" You are stranger to me, SIR sa
my travelling companion, at this pOin
''but think you viii appreciate the fe
ing with which poor Mr.. Blake stood
his bare and dingy study in the old far
parsonage, holding that letter in
hand, and lifting his faithful eyes
thankfulness to God" +"
- Yes" l replied. ''Will ston did il
the right thing, too. And how was
Did the son show that he deserved t
b lpP"
My acquaintance looked away frc