The public ledger. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1913-1968, 1917-06-21

loves,
Come back with Sabbath song as Of
dove,
In quiet neighborhoods.
l remember the CLEANS and glooms
that dart
Across the school boys brain;
The song and the silence in the heart
That in part are prophecies and In part
Are longings wild and vain.
Years have mellowed and made
sweet the memories of boyish days, the
days when "A boys will, Is the winds
WILL" but nevertheless, happy, care
less days when life, like story book,
is full of sunshine and gladness, each
day sufficient unto itself, and no care
for the morrow, except perhaps, the
irksome task of preparing lessons. 1t
is of this period ! wish to speak and
then too of the following days of youth
with its larger life, its more important
concerns, its increasing love for COM
partnership and its dreams and visions
of the great world beyond with Its
wonders, its destinations and its pos
sibilities; and its thoughts become
Icing, long thoughts"
1t is of these tender periods in my
own life, and even before l was count
ed member Of this beloved church,
that speak to you of memories of the
Maysville Presbyterian Church, and of
| its consecrated men and women;
doubtless, many with us tonight, had
their part in the activities Of that day,
but much the larger number present
must depend upon history and tradi-
ton to tell them Of parents and
friends who left them the rich legacy
Of lives we'll spent.
The period of which speak, pre-
cedes the pastorates of our three
friends, DR.. McCampbell, DR.. Alder
son and DR.. Barbour, who are with US
tonight, and whom l honor for their
faithfulness to the traditions of our
fathers for the purity of their lives
and for their influence for good. espe-
lcially in this church and in the City
Of Maysville.
Memory carries me through the ac-
tivities of long, busy years, and
stand young boy in the streets of
Maysville, gazing in wonder and awe
at jthe great church that had been
dedicated to the worship of God, but
a few years before; how could there
be greater? Immense In size; tower
ing over all other buildings in the
city; and then It's graceful, tapering
spire, Of which there was none like
it. capped by giant gilded hand, the
index finger extended and penetrat-
ing, as it appears to the boyish gaze,
into the very heavens above, and wish
BILE to all men, far and near; and then
its big wonderful bell, that rang out
its call to service in rich melodious
tones, that caused the echoes to sing
with Joy.
1t Is the Sunday School hour, and
entering the wide open doors of the
beautiful and sacred building am at
once attracted by the melody Of lit
tie children's voices; 1t comes from
the partly open door of the Infant
Glass room, and without looking in,
I picture the innocent little group,
surrounding consecrated Mother Scud-
der, whose long, tender and loving
service was an inspiration to many a
young life; in fresh childish voices
they sing In tones, clear and sweet,
as the warbling of birds on a spring
morning:
Little drops of water, Little grains of
sand
Make the might ocean, And the beau
teous land.
And the little moments; Humble
though they be
Make the mighty ages of Eternity.
Passing on | enter the main room
and join my class. The room is not
particularly attractive; the seats are
stiff, and are permanently attached to
the floor; the walls are bare, except
the solid wall opposite the entrance,
on which are hanging maps, illustrat-
ing the Missionary Journeys Of the
great Apostle. The superintendent
opens the school with prayer, singing
and reading, of scripture lesson, and
to this day the form Of Judge Lewis
Collins stands before me as he reads
his favorite lesson:
"And he showed me pure river Of
water Of life, clear as crystal, pro.
ceeding out of the throne of God and
of the Lamb"
! With buzz of voices recitations be-