The Somerset reporter., 1890-11-06
or the Reporter
A DREAM, WITH A MORAL,

ADRIAN, WITH A MORAL,
Never was reality more real, seemingly.
'han the dream l am going to relate
which came tothe writer during morning
nap after restless night not long ago
I The time, the place, and what followed
seemed so real that cannot resist the jim
pulse.t to put on paper the disconnected
anu untold story, 1t having no other basis
on which to found it than neetine-
vlson. Of enc who saw It In its mythical
, reality. To him it was real and yet un E.
real unreal and yet real Therefore to
my story.
My friend. Doctor P, and. myself
were walking together on the old familiar
road near the school house in my native
town, where long years ago were spent
the pleasant schoo, days of my DO yhood
The road, the buildings, the bushes by the
way side, the woods through which, in
company with my school chums l had
often stroled, had all undergone
wonderful transformation. The pro
gressive spirit of Improvement had been
there and done its work in the laying out
and the building of new streets. The old
tdnnery, so often frequented in years a
gone, had changed to asubstantial modern
mandatory, with its tall red chimney. The
low rooted farm house on the hill, where
once dwelt my paternal ancestors, had
given way to a church editice, and OPP
posite that stood another more imposing
and more elegant in its ARCHITECTURAL con-
struction. The old-time orchard, where
the boys and girls often played trusnt,
and where the blackberries were so deli |
cious this place, so dear to all the |
school child,en had also given way to the |
same spirit of Improvement; and where
were the once familiar apple trees and |
blackberry bushes there were to be seen |
at this time wide avenues and well laid |
out streets The primitive Quaker "meet-
ing house" once supposed to be as sub
stantal and enduring as the eternal ledge |
on which it WAS built, had changed to !
modern 'church edince" with its symmet-
rical spire pointing heavenward. The
weather beaten store, once painted red,
where we boys always found, at noon
and recess, a sure place to deposit our
pennies, had also disappeared and in It's
place stood substantial brick block.
But whether the candies, figs and nuts
sold over its walnut counter at this time
are any nicer or sweeter | have grave
doubts. We know however that the girls
those rare and radiant" girls-of our
day, never refused our candy kisses, and
not often any other kind when profiered
by the boys.
In vain looked to see the once we'll
trodden foot-path across the barren past
ure, where, in pleasant companionship
with one whose name shall here be name
less-who was my schoomate, classmate,
friend-I so often wandered in the quiet
Autumn evenings, and always considering
the fartherest way round the nearest way
home. and night never so dark as not to
reflect on the clouds above and on my
soul the traits Of her amiable character
with feeling of lingering regret turned
away signing, for desired to see again
the familiar path, when looking in
another direction across the meadow, l
beheld, as was told me, her pleasant home
over which my nameless friend presided
as wife and mother. Then forcibly came
to my mind the love-song of the Quaker
poet
"Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these 1T might have been
As we travel along the wide, smooth
road we come at last to q new school
house from the top Of which is flying in
the wind tattered American fag-a poor
substitute indeed for our national emblem.
The old red school house with its battered
door and rough benches carved with
juvenile skill, had given way to one or
more modern style and more in keeping
with the spirit Of the times. With de-
sire, probably, to make my name lmmor-
tai, but In a different direction and more
to my credit than when playing truant
there fifty years and more ago, said to
my friend Doctor, | am going to present
to the scholars in that school q new nag,
for, do you not see that tattered rag and
how much they need itf They do not
know me- those little boys and girls, but
their parents know me WELL for we were
ouce, as these children are, boys and girls
together. | will 60 in, will make them
familiar talk, will tell them that | was
once boy in the neighborhood, scholar
in this school district, for it was here in
this town that my parents lived and died,
and in yonder cemetery, under the mar
BILE, rests their dust. Yes, in The old red
school house, where this now stands, |
was taught the rud meats OF com
mon school education. | will present
them with new flag The boys and girls
will 90 home and tell their fond parents
the Interesting stony, how a stranger
came into the school, talked to them and
gave them a new flag.
The Joy l felt was inexpressible and
nv heart was filed with rapture as | con
.empated the situation and reflected on
the idea of the story being told their
parents at home on the childrens return
from school. With these thoughts in my
mind, we, my friend the Doctor who, l
knew, would be glad, as was his wont to
make a good speech to the children, and
myself found ourselves In the school
room, where we were met by modest
though a prim young miss of some eigh
teen summers. The school was at recess.
Some Of the chirdren were engaged in
play common to all schools, and some
we're outside enjoying themselves as best
they could. Assuming that the young
lady whom we met at the door was the
teacher we made known to her the object
of our call, and were promptly told that
she was pupil and not the teacher; that
the teacher, In fact, was absent, and
would be an hour or so, playing the Or
= gan At dancing school. My friend, the
Doctor, who had remained silent all this
time modestly inquired II playing the or
gan at q dancing school was considered
In that neighbOrhood one Of the pre-
requisite qualifications of the teacher,
and In answer was told by the young
lady that, while 1t was not so considered,
It nevertheless made 1t very convenient,
in the absence Of . violinist, to have .
teacher In the neighborhood who could
, NAV the organ. The answer, l was pleas
ed 10 notice, seemed entirely satisfactory
to the Doctor.
In due time tho teacher made her ap-
/ pearanoe, and having been informed as to
the object Of our presence, she called the
school to order, and then introduced the
strangers, the Doctor and myself, to her
pupils, who she said would favor them
. with . few remarks" And this Is the
substance of my address: Little pupils
and children Of my early associates, why
am here cannot tell you. (At this re:
70 mark noticed that the children looked
At each other and smiled). Nevertheless
Il II am here" land now the little ones look
ed at each other again - much - to say
"what are you here fort"
III nv friend, the Doctor and myself. nnd'
ing ourselves In this vicinity, saw your
Altered dag suspended over this build
. ipr, and said 70 him, Doctor, will n
} In and present those scholars with new