Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1897-01-14
In Memory of Stephen Hawkes. cambridge.

1t seems Just and right to say word
to the school friends of Stephen Dan
dridge-a word that may help them to
follow where he led. They saw him a
few short months ago receive an earthly
prize. Perhaps they recall his patient,
serious face as he stood amongst them
for the last time. They were all dear to
| him. He loved with an intensity of pas
| sion his native town. In his last letter
he saws how his heart turns Ito the sights
| and sounds of home, to the pleasant open
November fields, to his dog and his gun
and the BIRDS" that at times 1.-The long
ing comes over him with vast force, to
be back in the dear familiar scenes. He
thinks there must be many rabbits in
those marsh thickets. He longs to see
the bittersweet. God was looking on
the warnings of the sanity boy and pre-
paring his mansion in the skies"
The end came with scarcely warn
ing. His sister had read TO him shortly
before the lines:
There is a reaper whose name is death,
And with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at breath
And the flowers that grow between.
He said to her, Il am listening to evey
word"
God sent his angels for him when he
was alone-as He called Moses Of old.
1t is sweet and profitable to trace the
leading of his Fathers hand in the years
gone by. Always there seemed double
portion Of grace 10 rest on him. His
chief delight for years, on Sabbath even
ings, was 20 go with one he loved to quiet
homes about his own; 20 carry the news
of Gods love to every heart that he could
reach. One has often been touched on
awakening from needful rest to find this
patient waiter near, so eager for the loved
employ. In the very spot where he sleeps
now the little children would gather for
readings. Sometimes he would swing
himself up TO tree branch and gaze
down with his face of loving interest.
His soul would go out after those little
ones. and his delicate fancy would color
the scene. He used to say they are
like fairies.
His devotion to his Bible was what
made his life so rich in blessing.
1t was his fathers custom each day TO
read chapter after breakfast. And the
loving, innocent boy would rise from the
table, and throwing his arms around his
fathers neck, drink in the waters from
the well of life, asking explanations of
any difficult passages, SO absorbed that
we would have TO call him back to ma
terial things He laid a Bible that he
specially loved on the mantel-shelf Of
the kitchen, and he rarely went to the
college until he had read a chapter to
the servants of the household. Once or
twice he was obliged to omit the duty,
l,,t ha ,rn,,I1 until no had
gotten some one to take his place. One
of the servants said after his death. Il
never saw him do anything wrong"
1t was his great JOY to visit sick beds
though too painfully difiident to say
much of what he felt for the suffering
In our church helping in pray
er"-he did earnest work, rebuking our
timidity in asking people to join It, say
ing, of those we feared TO speak TO, TRY
them ~ He was never so happy as when
about his Masters business, and no one
could see the daily life of this pure boy
without recognizing him as one of Gods
holy ones. Sin stood rebuked before
him a neighbor once said OF him, sit
makes me happy just to see him about
as he hunts in the fields. He looks so
holy and sweet and bright" He would
seem more a child of the skies than OF
earth as he used to lie for hours in the
grass with his face upturneo to heaven,
and radiant with the thoughts within
thoughts from which came such rich
fruit. Duty was his watchword, and
heaven was always his goal. His last re-
quest to a beloved one before he left here
was, do get into the temperance work.
You know so many, and could have splen
did opportunities, and might do so much
for the town"
will close this tribute with the words
of his father as he laid him to rest, "Our
soldier is at home X. ID.