THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S STORY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 18, 30 April 1892, Page 447

THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S STORY.

When I took the school that winter I did not know that she Was such a fair and winsome girl, though she was famed to be The belle of all the neighbourhood, so pretty and so bright That everybody, young and old, fell dead in love at sight. And so, you see, I was surprised to find a blooming rose Among the common flowers that the schoolroom often shows. And my heart was trembling in my mouth and my cheeks were all aflame When I asked, although I knew it, for her to give her name. She was the gayest cieature the sun ere shone upon, And days when she was absent it seemed his light was gone ; But yet, for all her gayety, she read and figured well, And was always last to take her seat when they stood up to spell. That winter was the shortest one of all I ever taught ; It seemed to pass away so quick and go before it ought. And when the last day came around I really couldn't see, Looking back through the winter, where the long, cold months could be. Ah ! Well, the very best of friends will sometimes have to part, But on that day I had with me a sad and heavy heart ; A mist hung thick before my eyes that blurred those faces dear, And on the Bible that they gave is the blot of many a tear ; Then each sweet, loving, little one bade me a fond good-by, And asked me to come back again with eyes that were not dry: But when the dearest one of all came up and took my hand, And whispered, ‘ Teacher, won’t you stay ?’ I came to understand. Though many a term I’ve taught since then, that one I'll not forget ; Though I am getting old and gray, its memory’s with me yet; That little whitewashed schoolhouse, I shall love it all through life, For she who made it dear to me is my true and loving wife.