Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1917-09-19
The Dear Old School Days of
Childhood.
Editor of The Advertiser:

Time passes swiftly and we look
back on the happy scenes of child
hood as though it was but yester.
day, when years have glided by,
since the bud of infancy blossomed
into the spring-time of life. Men
live, love and regret before they
realize that life has begun. Every
life has its thorns and blossoms,
every eye must view the sunshine
and rains which brighten and sad.
den the paths of life. But all do
not see alike. Some look long and
pray for the sunshine of happiness
while others wait in patience to see
what the end will be. Every life is
filled with memories both sweet
and sad. Memory is a thing that
we can neither buy or sell. Reason
may leave man, all hope may die
in his heart, yet memory never tells
him goodbye.
Most of us like to remember the
dear old school days of innocent
childhood" And tits of those days
that I will endeavor to write.
IT'S years since last we gathered in
the old school-house friends, but 1t
seems only a little while since we
answered the roll call and met the
smiling glances of a faithful school
teacher, when each answered, Pm
here" Well, I remember those
happy days that brought JOY to
each young heart, those days now
gone beyond recall. All our hearts
beat warm with love for each others
friendship. The little games we
played, the rambles in the nearby
fields, and the laughs we had to-
gether while lying on the cool
green grass, are rot forgotten and
memory holds them sacred. Oh,
yes, we were happy then, and we
loved each other as only school
mates can love. But now the days
of our spring-time are over, and all
that's left us is golden memory of
those once happy times. The old
school house has been torn down
and carried away, and the wild
briar now marks the place where it
stood. The little spring where we
went for water has dried up, and
the sweet daisies grow in it's bed.
The birds may sing as sweet, the
flowers may bloom as lovely, and
the sun may shine as bright as in
those days but the birds song, the
fairest flowers, and the brightest
rays do not seem as gay and bsauti-
ful to us now as they did in the
days when we, with merry hearts,
met at the school house. Some Of
the pupils fell as a victim to that
cruel fate, called disappointment,
realizing that their blossoms of
spring-time had faded. Others have
sailed the deep blue sea in quest of
fortune and are to-day breathing
the air of some distant cline.
Some of us have seen the light burn
low in the room of a dying mate,
and our hearts were filled with sad
ness when death with it's cold icy
arms bore the loved one away. We
have followed with slow footsteps
the pale sleeper to the old church
yard, and there viewed for the last
time the face Of one who in life had
been merry with US, and as we look
ed on the fragrant face of earths
sweetest blossoms, we remembered
the dear old days at school, when
the grave was finished and monu-
ment erected to the memory of the
occupant, memory erected a monu-
ment of love, hope and forgiveness
in our hearts over the grave of bit
ter feelings that lay dead beneath,
and no more on times wild shore"
will the faults of the dead be re-
membered. Thus the once happy
school-mates have passed away.
while some of US remain near the
sacred spot where the old school
house stood.
1t Is good for us to take look
backward at times, and think of the
good old school days. It will help
tc re.unite our hearts in the golden
ties of friendship, for if the tender
ness and memories of the dear dead
past" were taken from mans
heart, he would not be much better
than brute. There are only three
of my old school mates now living
that I recall, Mrs. R. S. Wright,
Mrs. Lod Stevens and Mrs. William
Kinnaird, four with myself. Mrs.
| William WRIGHT who died at John.