Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1881-07-05


More than words ran tell!
Boston Transcript.
THE MINISTER'S OLD COAT.
s'Minister,s sons are very apt to turn
out badly" said to do the gentleman
who sat next to me in the car. We had
met in the train, bound for Chicago, and
had struck up an acquaintance.
He stopped me with his hand on my
arm and with an earnest look which I
shall never forget.
I paused at once in what was saying,
and it seemed for moment almost as ii
the rushing tran had stopped to listen,
too.
"Let me tell you a story,n he said. "I
know 1t is common belief that MINIS
ter's sons are wild, but this is because
people talk about the bad ones, while
those who turn out well are taken as .
matter of course. gathered statistics
about them once, and found that out of
a thousand sons of ministers, there were
very few who did not grow useful and
industrious men,"
"But what is your story ?" I asked,
settling back in my seat.
"Well," said he, "it begins with q
class supper in Boston, dozen years
ago. A number of old college friends
had gathered in the evening for their
annual reunion. Among them WIS the
rich merchant, ]. E. WiIliston-perhaps
you have heard of ofhim-and poor pastor
Of 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 eld-
erly men who were left felt me re tender
than ever toward each other, as they
thought of the bright old days at Har-
ward, and how soon no one would be
left on earth who shared in that happy
time.
"The dishes came and went, the
lights glowed brilliantly, and at last the
friends grew quite gay. But the tender
feeling I have spoken of would come
uppermost, now andthen and in one
Of these musing moments Williston' g
eye was attracted by something glisten-
ing about the coat which his friend
Blake, who eat 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. Bake said he. suddenly,
taking hold of his friends arm cordial
ly (which he somehow hadn't thought
ofdoing before) how hasfhe world gone
with you, lately ?"
"Blake had a naturally sad and
thoughtful face; but he looked around
quickly, with warm smile.
No need to ask, he said, laughing
Iy. You can read the whole story on
my back. This old coat is sort of bal
ance sheet which shows my financial
condition to IT,
"Then he spoke more seriously, add
ing. 1T is pretty hard life, WiJliston,
that of a country parson. I don't conn
plain Of my lot, though sometimes I'm
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 Har-
ward this year, and must pinch here and
there to do 1t. I really ought to be
thankful, though, that l can get such
advantages for him by few little sacri.
fees of personal appearance and con-
venience.'
"'Don't you give a thought to your
coat, old fellow returned w lliston.-
Nobody who knows you will ever inn
bare, however the garner may look
expression, and both men, after that
exchange of confidence, felt happier
But, among the various incidents of the
the minister's mind by the next day
when he started for Elmbank
"Speedy as his return was, however
something meant for him had got to his
destination before him. It was q letter
Taking it up, he broke open the en-.
velope, and found inside q few words
from Williston, with check for $500 to
defray the first years college expenses
of his old classmates son.
"You are stranger to me, SIR" said
my travelling companion, at this point,
"but I think you will appreciate the
feeling 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
thankfulness to God"
"Yes,n replied. "Williston did just
the right thing. too. And how was it !!
Did the son show that he deserved the
help ?"
NV acquaintance looked away from
me at the rich country through which
we were passing. Then he said:
"Sam Blake was a good.natured,
obedient fellow enough, and was greatly
pleased to have the expense of his first
college year taken off his fathers shoul-
ders but his sense of duty didn't &c
very far. The Rev. Mr.. Blake bought
a new coat, and Sam entered Harvard
that fall and here matters stopped fol
a while.
IA freshman has great deal to learn,
as YOU know: but I think the CHIEF
thing Sam learned that term, was the
great difference there is between Har-
ward and little village like Elmbank,
and the great difficulty of working and
playing at the same time.
Here he had society meetings to at
tend. and rooms of his own. with q
chum. where good deal of smoking
was done by himself and bis friends.-
And then there was baseball, into which
it appeared indispensable for the honor
of the class that he should enter actively
on account of his strong legs, wonder
full wind and ground batting.
"He could not refuse to go to the
theatre occasionally with his richer
companions. Sam took q natural inter
est in the society of young ladies, toe,
and had to give up some time to its cul'
tivation. He also thought moderate
amount of practice in the gymnasium
was desirable, to prevent his health
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 we'll along in the winter, wher
the habit Of Sinking work had grown
90 strong, without his noticing 1t, tina
he fell easily into reading novels wher