Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1880-03-12

rel chow has the world gone with you

fore) ''how has the world gone "lth you
lately?'' ~ 2f''i4
Blake had a naturally sad and thought
full face; but he looked around quickly,
with warm SMILE. a s na N
mo need to ask, he said, laughingly.
~ GU can read the whole story on my
/, back The old coat is a sort OF balance
sheet, which shows my financial condition
, to T." M tH ~ ia3 eii53
Then he spoke more seriously, adding.
s.It is a hard life. Williston. that Of
country parson, L don't complain of my
lot, though sometimes Pm distressed for
my family. The fact is, this coat I've got
on is hardly fit for a man Of my profession
to appear in; but I'm going to send my
boy Sam to Harvard this year, and must
pinch here and there to do it. really
ought to be thankful, though, that l.. can
get such advantages for him by few lit
tie sacrifices of personal appearance. '''i'sa..
"Don,t you give thought to your, coat,
old fellow. )" returned Wiliston. 's'Nobody
| who knows you will ever imagine that the
heart inside Of it is threadbare, however
the garment may look.''-
Blake was pleased with this kindly ex-
preston; and both men, after that ex-
change of confidence. felt happier. But.
among the various incidents of the even
! ing. this one almost passed out OF the min
ister's mind by the next day, when he start
ed for Elmbank. S4'.3l
Speedy as his return was, however,
something meant for him had got to his
destination before him. TWAS a letter.
! Taking it up, he broke open the envelope,
and found inside few words from Willis
ton, with check for $500 to defray the
| first years college expenses Of his old
| classmates son.
"You are a stranger to me, SIR" said
my travelling companion, at this point.
''but think you will appreciate the feel
ing with which poor Mr.. Blake stood in
his bare and dingy study in the old farm
parsonage. holding that letter in his hand,
and lifting his faithful eyes in thankful
ness to God.o ~ h3+ ~A
.Yes,'' Ireplied. s.Williston did just
the right thing, too. And how was tip
Did his son show that he deserved the
help?" $780, =. issAg'
| My acquaintance looked away from me
at the rich country through which we were
passing. Then he said: a So
.Sam Blake was a good-uatured, obedi-
emit fellow enough, and was greatly pleas
ed to have the expense of his first college
year taken off. his fathers shoulders; but
his sense of duty didn't go far. The Rev.
| Mr.. Blake bought new coat, and Sam en-
tered Harvard that fall: and here matters
stopped for awhile.
A freshman has great deal to learn, as
you know; but think the chief thing for
Sam to have learned that term was the
great difference there is between Harvard
and little village like Elmbank, and the
great difficulty Of working and playing
at the same time.
| Here he had society meetings to attend,
| and rooms of his own. with chum, where
agood deal of smoking was done by him
self and his friends. And then there was
baseball, into which it appeared indispen-
sable for the honor of the class that he
should enter actively. on account of his
strong legs, wonderful wind and ground
batting.
| He could not refuse to go to the theater
occasionally 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 moderate amount of practice in
the gymnasium was desirable, to prevent
his health from breaking down under the
confinement of study. So, on the whole.
the actual work that he did in the college
course was not very extensive. ~
This didn't seem to have any bad effect
till well along in the winter, when the
habit of Sinking work had grown so
strong, without his noticing it, that he
fell easily into reading novels when he
ought to have been in the recitation room.
Gymnasium, theater, billiards, smoking
and am afraid must say little drink
! -frlttered away his time. ,18 5R
| One horribly snowy, sleety morning
when he had got up too late for prayers,
the postman brought him note from the
Ifaculty-an ''admonition." fss,gs5
he dropped the pipe he was just light
ing, and bolted off to recitation. But he
''deaded" Immediately. and that discour-
aged him.
| He soon began to make light of the
warning, and did himself no credit in his
Fstudies. Though he managed to squeeze
through the examination at the end of the
freshmen year, he came out far down to-
ward the foot of his class. 34s.sl
! He wasn't quite eontented with himself
and thought he'd try to do better the next
year But during the journey home he re-
covered his usual spirits. a. M, ,..I,.s.4 +.
When be walked up the village toward
the parsonage farm he was thinking that
1'-since he was sophomore now 7-he would
buy the knottiest and biggest headed cane
in Cambridge when he should go back
there And whaE do you suppose was the
1 first sight that met him at home? 80, 80
/ 1t was his father out in the field, dig
gins for, new potatoes, his coat off, and his
spectacled face perspiring! a@a $ al''i'
The sight struck shame into the, boy.
He yapl'ed over the fence, and running
up with hardly pauae for grseting, cried.
| "Oh, father, let me do that! I don't
! like to see you at such work"
Mr.. Blake stopped and looked earnestly
and rather sadly at him. Boil sgsq{ sV4!
"Well. Sam, I think that's about as
good How do you do?' as you could
have offered me. There's something right
about you, after ALL" aaai ~
It hadn't occurred to sam tuat there