Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-11-28
ROSES.
A STORY OF THANKSGIVING
TIME.
Winfield 9. Moody. IT,. In Harper's Bsxar.

Winfield 9. Moody. r.. In Harper's Baxar.
EVERYBODY SAID 1T WAS THE MOST
IL wonderful summer ever known In all the
| hill country. The reproach laid by scoffers
upon New England weather had never been re-
ceived or even heard of in the rocky little town
| Of Harmony. The turning the year was an Or
derby procession in that simple place, and the
winters came when they we're due Just as the
darkness came down regularly. and all the
people went to sleep in it, like the birds. leav-
ing the moon to govern the night without
watching. Things went along pretty peacefully
in Harmony, and there we're few surprises and
| no shocks.
So when this particular summer came and
continued and ran clear past its proper bounds
till October was still heavy with midsummer
heat there was much speculation about it. Al
most everybody in town was weather wise and
had his own idea of how it had come about and
what it BODIED. The only thing agreed upon
was that something uncommon would come OF
it. The farmers in Harmony got in their late
crops as with loins girded. watching each day
for the expected change and reasonably thank
full for every NOW of hay or grain safely housed.
The minister had made notable preachment
| early In September upon the weather. hkening
| the massel of the enduring summer to
divine ,htience with the impentent, and it was
| called master-good discourse. But that
month stretched out and still the sun shone
July warm, certain light minded ones said it
| was clear that there must be some very hard
ened sinners in Harmony to keep the season
| open so long. And this talk came to the minis
tiers ears, and forthwith he preached a sermon
to scoffers, which did him good to deliver and
probably did somebody good to hear. Amid
all this wonder and questioning somebody met
the professor one day and asked him what he
thought of the long spen m no aai6 anita
simply, that he thought the world was a very good
place IL summer time and that his flowers
seemed to keep on blossoming Just from
pleasure In being alive in SO kind an air, and 30
he was glad of the warmth without troubling
to reason it out. And he who had asked the
question turned away smiling because the
professor talked so much like q child.
He was very like child, too in many ways
this gentle. simple, wise old man. For many
years Professor Churchill had occupied the
chair of English language and literature in
Harmony College. That chair was not an i'm
posing one, nor was the college itself very
ancient foundation, but among its faculty were
some men of gentle scholarship. not bitten
with the new learning nor fond Of noisy enter
prise. Notable among these was Professor
Churchill, who stood, frank and unconscious.
for simple culture and unworldly wisdom.
Truly this is a delightful kind of man to be
friends with, and one who is a monument of
the happier age of gold" but such a man
of new fashions in thought and action.
And 80 it was with the little professor. He
had no knowledge of the New Criticism. He
had never discovered that to be original one
must needs be aboriginal or that imagination
Is vain thing He never even suspected that
strong romantic fiction is not literature and he
kept up a cordial friendship with Herrick and
Ben johnson, while the writer's of 'teacup
verse" were not even names to him. He was
not at all up to date. He would not even have
n 1IGrCt nn thn v,hr . eel ILL,
had learned the language people had said "1p
to the times. and enter tanned some dread Of
being In advance OF them.
| So Progress. inevitable and in fine new
| clothes came and sat down in the seat of the
scornful, opposite the professor And one
day he became conscious that there was some
thing raw and unfamiliar in the air he was
breathing, as if the east wind had suddenly
blown into the chambers Of his sensitive soul.
And, following the forewarning, the hard thing
came, and he understood, when the president
called upon him one day in his shabby little
house, and told him deliberately that the col
lege remembered his long years of work CRATE.
fully, and feared that he would find the burden
too heavy to carry longer, and that they beg
ged he would accept the title of pro-
lessor emeritus and deliver an annual
lecture to the graduating class. and permit the
college to print it, and to keep the manuscript
in the college library. The first words brought
hush to the wlthered face, and his old arm
chair rocked . little like . ship on troubled
water. because it had never crossed his mind
that his work and his way were not Just as good
and acceptable now as they had been thirty
years before. He had kept company only
with the saints in literature, and the saints are
always the same.
But on that day when he was formally sa-
luted as professor emeritus and big parchmen;
was given to him. with wax seals on it, and
speeches were made. and the young man from
Oxford sat in his chair. he stood up straight as
a soldier and as proudly, too, and at the end of
the speech-making he saluted the president and
all the others with the old-fashioned awkward
bow which the students knew so well, and said.
in his simple childlike way, that they did him
too high an honor. He made little of his own
work and magnitie6 the Office of his successor.
and at the last he turned to the students and
said. just as he had always done at the end of
every lecture he delivered. that he begged leave
to thank the gentlemen for their courteous at
tention and wished them a good morning
The students cheered Prof. Churchill again
and again and again. until the president
fidgeted little in his chair and coughed and
adjusted his cap, and the little professor came
from his corner once more and bowed low and
lower with his own little jerky gestures of
depreciation. while his eyes flied with tears. 1t
made no difference to the students then that
they had been wont to think and speak with
a laughing indulgence Of the little man and to
raise all manner of mild disturbance in his
lecture room. The professor had never reen
it. nor would he have believed that any wilful
disrespect had ever been shown to him or to
his Office. Aud the same boy who had oftenest
made sport of the professor cheered longest,
and finally subsidized into half audible remarks
to the effect that it was some sort Of shame-he
didn't speak very distinctly.
And so Prof. Churchill went home that day
and sat down for while in his old fashioned
chair among his old-fashioned books and
thought it all over. He explained it carefully
to himself, to another child, until he was
quite sure he understood it. And he had the
cheering to remember, and the affectionate
good will which had beamed out upon him
from all the boys faces, 80 he conlforted him
self. And nearly all the boys came to wish
him goodbye before going home for the long
vacation. insomuch that the door of the small
brown house ON the hill side was kept swinging
all day long. The professor felt very proud OF
this. He had always been glad to believe that
the boys had liked to listen to his lectures, but
so strong showing of personal regard touched
hun very much. He walked out through the
garden TO the gate with every one of his guests
and made each OF them a formal little speech
of farewell And when the last of the IN had
come and gone he went wandering among his
roses. half consoled in thinking that now he
wouid have all the more time to care for them
and to be among them.
They stood to him for wife and children
these flowers Of his. They had been Mrs.
ChurchiIls loving care at the first: and when,
many years ago, she had been borne out of the
cottage with her own white roses on her breast
| the childless man had come hack tn find his