The Worthington advance., 1880-09-16
SUCH IS LIFE.

picture yet undimmed, though years have
come and gone since the days long ago
when / first knew the reality. An old
brick school-house, formerly church,
with its broad doors and great arched
windows, their buff curtains futtering
laxily in the summer breeze, forms the
principal feature. A back ground of
hazy, purple-green hills, and Just to the
where daily We held our noon picnics,
and wove wonderful garlands to decorate
the yellowed walls Of the old school,
room, and in front the great gaping
ditch, which in marvelously y-short
space of time would swallow up the
whole school after the bell tapped for
recess but to me the dearest feature of
ell was the broad old Mississippi in the
distance, rolling along in majestic grand
eur, its sparkling wavelets catching the
suns brightest beams, and throwing
them back into the old school-house
with redoubled brilliancy. From nv
seat near the window I think I never
tired of watching its bright waves glim-
mer and CLEAN through the swaying
green trees: Here, gentle reader, it was
that I first knew Ethel Raymond, tiny,
fair-haired girl Of perhaps my own age,
always clad in the same pure white dress
with its marvellous number of tucks. and
blue silk waist, with low neck and short
sleeves setting off her fair childish beau-
y, though sadly out Of place in the
dusty old school-room, as was the gen.
ezal opinion from the numerous up
turned noses and suppressed litter of the
little calico-clad damsels whose manners
were not nearly 80 respectable as their
somewhat-faded garments. How lonR
it seemed till recess that first morning.
and when it came how we all bounded
Oh to "our grove" as we called the wal
nuts, to surround Mat Bronson, who.
with an air Of superior knowledge, had
informed us that the newcomers lived
"just down by her house, consequently
was supposed to know all about them.
II spects they must be awful rich to
dress 20 fine at school," timidly sug-
gested little Kitty Edwards, as soon as
we were settled:
Rich, indeed |" shifted Mat: "poor
- Jobs turkey; live in an old shanty
just down below our house amt rot
anything in but two or three old chairs,
. table and q stove awful stuck up,
too. Ny ma went over there, the other
day, just to see what kind Of people
they were, and, my landl Mrs. Ray.
mond was 20 high and mighty she hard
y asked her to sit down. She said un-
der the circumstances she couldn't he
very sociable, which means she's too
poor: amt going to send her boy to
school, with her present arrangements
ahe can't, which means he amt got any,
thing TO wear, you know. Pity he can't
wear tho family white, with about half
tho tucks ripped out; it would be Just
long enough Tor him; with all, you know.
It makes quite stylish Sunday dress
tor their mother"
"Well, I'd be ashamed, Mat Bronson,
10 tell such stuff as that" interrupted
one Of the girls.
"Well, you know I'm never ashamed
% tell the truth, and this il q solemn
1sct; she's got one Of these sewing ma-
chimes. You just pull the thread and
away goes tho tucks it's got q draw.
string IN the waist. and when it's washed
ard done up who knows the difference?
Nov, my dear schoolmates, don't look
% hoEror-sttuck I tell you all this as q
secret, wouldn't tell everybody for any,
thing; - there are only about forty Of
you, Of course it will never get out, and,
giving her curls q wicked toss, Mat
boandsd away.
Nat Bronson was the acknowledged
Leader, and I fear the new scholar would
have been sadly neglected but for the
sveR-thoughtful kindness Of our teacher,
who seemed never to weary in his
o6oets entertain and amuse her during
tho long recess time. can see them
yee, his dark boyish beauty contrasting
With hers 10 fair and childlike. Ernest
Emezso0, our teacher, had come to us
nom aneighboring academy, and, though
scaxcely more than boy, had won his
way both among parents and pupils. A
model Of perfection and beauty he
seemed to us children. The jetty curls
lying in damp rings about his white
brow, the great lustrous black eyes and
fainhy.hnted cheeks made up for his
only dzawbeck, q lameness, which al
ways made it necessary for him to walk
With cane: but we soon grew to look
upon the little rosewood cane as a part
oe our teacher, and probably would never
have associated it with pain and suffer-
ing had he not one day told US of boy
whose reckless propensity for fun and
daring exploits had made him cripple
es the age Of IA, and q disappointed man
tor hte. This told in a sad, agitated
tone of voice convinced US that the wild.
reckless boy was no other than our
gentle teacher. From that hour we were
not only his admiring, but his warm,
sympathetic friends, and when he took
little lonely Ethel under his especial
care we felt q silent rebuke from one
whose good opinion We all coveted, and
N ohogt time al hearts were opened to
the little stranger, and when the teacher
placed her in the seat beside me we grew
inse?:sse!s .s,aa.i and t thoss long, bright sum-