Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-07-16
THR BIG BOOTs.

1t had brick walls, and these are not
entirely gone. A portion of the Chin
ney, too, is still to be seen; while old
foundation-stones, and bits Of lath, and
broken layers of mortar make the place
desolate and forbidding. The wet,
spongy farm-lot, In the rear, is no hand
somer, nor the rude highway more at
tractive than was the case forty years
ago.
1t would seem as if country school
houses, like country grave-yards, were
once begrudged the room required for
them, and hence pushed into the most
uninviting places.
Even now, in sleep, / sometimes
dream of my school-days there, and of
the little boy with the big boots-the
sorrowful little boy, whom none of us
knew enough to make happy. Boys
are not really more cruel than men, but
their well Of kindness lies deep, and
they leap over it and run around it
without knowing how clear and spark
ling its waters would be if drawn up.
Twas a lad of eleven, the first and
only winter of my attendance there
am now more than fifty; and, in the
review, that single winter seems as long
TO me as a dozen years. The incidents
of youth have a consistency like that of
pure gold, and the mind afterwards
beats them out, SO that they cover q
very broad surface.
Mr.. Tanner, the master, would know
in moment, were he to rise up before
me now; and the fresh-looking girl at
the desk in the corner; and the blue
eyed country beauty, whose seat was by
the window; and the freckled boys, and
boys with tow hair; the big boys on
the back seat, and the little boys on the
front bench by the stove would rec
ognize them every one, could some
psychological wonder bring them back
to me again, with the looks that they
have long since shed, atom by atom, on
the road of life.
There was one little fellow about my
own age, whom, on my first day at
school, l remarked as having thought
full and somewhat troubled face, and to
be poorly dressed.
1t was a cNld day in November, and,
at recess, some of the boys put on their
Overcoats. One of them, who had q
very handsome garment Of the kind, on
taking it down from its nail in the en-
try, observed beside it an old faded coat,
belonging to some one else. This he
rudely grasped, and, with a jeering,
cruel air, and derisive whoop, ex-
claimed
"What rag is thispn
At the same time he threw it across
the small entry and out upon the stone
steps. I
Another kicked it as it fell; while a
third caught it up ana ran with it, as if
it were kite or banner. Presently,
however, it was dropped, and, as the
boys became somewhat scattered, saw
the little fellow of the reflective face
hastily pick up the despised article and
return it to the place where it had hung.
AS he turned away, his countenance
was flushed, and he drew the back of
his hand across his somewhat handsome
eyes.
1t was his coat, this was plain; and
all my enjoyment of the recess was
spoiled; for thought how he must feel
TO be jeered at and insulted for what he
could not help, and what had no doubt
caused him much anxiety and mortf,
cation, even before any one had made
it subject of ridicule.
He did not put on the coat at that
time, though he had worn it in the morn.
ing; but when the day was over, and all
the children we're making ready for
home, as the bitter wind whistled past
the door, he once more buttoned il
around him; and was glad to find that
nothing was said, although some of the
boys looked curiously at his threadbarC
attire, as if wondering how he could
wear such clothes on the very first day
of school. But now observed that he
had ill-fitting boots, much too large fol
his feet; and, although the coat escaped
attack for the time, the boots did not
"Bootsl bootsl" "What is the price
of old leatherP" "Who wants to take
sail in a mudscowP" were some of Che
unfeeling calculations that he was com,
PEELED to hear, rs he started out upon
the road with the others, who, after the
manner of rude school-boys, sauntered
or ran along, pushing each other into
bitches, or throwing pebbles at gate
posts and trees.
The following day was still colder
and the boy came wrapped in his pooi
overcoat; but this had now ceased tc
attract particular attention; the big
boots, which really made remarkable
appearance upon feet so small, becom'
ing the butt instead.
They made a louder sound on the
school-house floor than the boots of any
other boy; and the sensitive heart Of
young Master Robert Brown flor this
was the lads name) told him so. There
were enough others to tell him so, too
Oh, the cruelty of those sarcastic smiles
and impudent glancesl
One evening l told my parents of the
boy with the big boots, who came from
the other end of the district; and my
mother replied that Robert Brown musi
be the son of that Mr.. Brown who lived
at the turn of the road, two miles off
and who, by intemperance, kept his
whole family in misery. I}.
Mrs. Brown, my mother said, was an
excellent woman, and was always mend
ing and fixing up her children,s cloth
ing; trying, in her careful, anxious way,
TO make something of nothing; and often,
too, succeeding surprisingly well.
Robert, she added, had an elder
brother, who had gone TO sea and per-
haps the big boots might be a pair
which he had left at home. The family
had lately lost little girl, Roberts
sister, and were In affiictiOn every way I;
and she hoped that would never show
by word or look that / noticed the
clumsy boots or the threadbare coat.
Andnow Remembered hearing Robert