Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1880-07-16

had done. ~ Hk
How many leaden thoughts fell on
his young bearti He recalled his father,
dfunkard his mother, so careful, so
sorrowful, worn with work, so tender of
himself his little sister, asleep under
the new mound, where his own and his
mothers hands placed, every week, sad
MOSES and circlets of the pretty creep
ing-jenny--for II was all that they now
could do; and then, in the midst of all,
how inexpressibly dreadful TO his mind
seemed the taunts which poverty
brought upon him. The coat upon
which his mother had sewed at night,
hoping tlat it might answer; the boots
that she had dreaded 10 ask him 10 wear
the coarse dinner that the boys had
made fun of at noon, as he took it from
his pail; he thought of all these things
more bitterly than ever; and, suddenly,
at that recess, he was missed from
among his school-fellows.
j found him stretched at full length
on the damp ground, out of sight of his
tormentors; and when / knelt by his
side, and put my arm tenderly about
him, his sobs we're violent. He cried
long and bitterly-all the more for this
.
Presently, number of school-boy
faces peered over the fence that had
hidden us from the common view; but
after moments watching, they skunk
away in shame.
/ soon perceived that my schoolmates
were talking earnestly among them
selves, and saw also that some of the
faces 1 had thought SO cruel wore look
of repentance and sorrow.
The teachers bell sounded, and we
all thronged into school-Robert Brown
the last. How sad he lookedl The
master asked no questions; but he must
previously have observed something of
the condition of things; for when school
was over at night, he put his arm about
Roberts neck, and asked him to re-
main for a few moments. Robert held
me by the hand, and asked that might
remain also.
Then, when we three were alone, he
told, at the masters request, the story
of his troubles. How simply and how
frankly he spoke, and what unstudied
pathos there was in his words The
schoolmaster's eyes were full of tears
and, in answering the poor little boy,
his voice became choked, and more
than once he left sentence unfinished.
AS to myself, could not help weeping
outright.
The next day Robert was absent. He
had taken cold during the few minutes
in which he lay on the wet ground and
as the weather was now stormy, his
mother had not ventured to send him.
His absence afforded the master an
opportunity of talking to the other pupils
in way which he could hardly have
done had the little boy with the big boots
been present.
ready begun to think-begun to put
themselves in Roberts place, and i'm
agine how they would feel if their moth
ers, who so loved them, were poor and
careworn, and sat up at night, trying to
make old things answer for their dear
boys, hoping that the other boys would
not notice the difference, or at least
would not speak of ito consider how
it would be if, when.they came to school,
all this anxiety and toll and love were
mocked by unfeeling voices, and all the
dear things of home were insulted,
through a senseless derision, by those
who had the good fortune to possess
parents who could buy them new coats,
new mittens, and new boots. There is
almost every thing in thinking, and at
last the boys thought.
Master Tanner spoke kindly to them
on the subject. Though he could be
stern at times, there was now not one
atom of severity in his tones.
His heart had no room for anger; but,
as he spoke, he became eloquent. 1t was
a soft, winning kind of eloquence; and
the most thoughtless boy in the school
was affected to tears.
Whether or not Roberts mother knew
what had transpired, can not tell but
the succeeding day he came again,
wearing the same boots and coat as be-
fore. But the boys saw them not, or
saw them only to feel heartache, and
newborn sympathy for the poor little
fellow who would not have worn them
if he could have helped it. The tide of
impulse had turned.
Nothing was overdone, but there was
kindness of act and tone; and the big
boys showed that they were doing what
they could in a gentle, unobtrusive way,
to make Robert forget that they had
ever treated him ill.
The next day was Saturday, and there
was no school. On Monday, Robert
did not come, and we learned that he
was ill with a fever. Tuesday was
Christmas; and on the morning of that
day, Mrs. Brown carried into the sick
room of her little boy new pair of
boots, and a complete suit of warm,
handsome clothing, overcoat and all.
Late on the previous evening, these ar
ticles had been left in her charge, to be
a mornings surprise for the young pa
tient.
That afternoon, number of the
school-boys called upon him, and was
of the party. The same boy who had
tossed Roberts coat from its nail in the
entry was one of us. Robert sat up in
bed, and for a few moments, all his ILL
ness seemed to have departed. The
new boots were where he could look at
them constantly; the overcoat was also
close to his hand, and so were all the
other articles of the Christmas gift.
The young visitors had seen all these
things before Robert saw them, but
they did not say so.
Oh, how unexpected had been such Il
token of sympathy! Nothing was said
OF the past; but the boys brought him
nuts ard sweetmeats, which, however,
he must keep till he should be well and
they told him of hundred things which
he and they would do before the close
of winter.
But the well day never came. He was
very sick even then, and it was only the
pleasant excitement, and the feeling that
the old cause of sorrow had been all
swallowed up in kindness, that made
him appear momentarily better.
Only once after that saw him alive;
and the picture of his little pale face up
on the pillow remains with me yet. His
mother had placed the new boots where
he could still see them, and the over
coat where he could touch it with his
hand. When / entered, he rallied for a
moment, and seemed almost well.
Putting his arm about me as leaned
over him, he said