Part 1 (1/2)
Charlie Newcomer.
by Wilbur B. Stover.
PREFACE.
I knew Charlie Newcomer, and I loved him. To me he seemed to have a bright future. And that other children may be led to take his good example in uniting with the church while they are yet children, I take pleasure in telling the story of his life. I have told that story often from the pulpit, in children's meetings, and I tell it now, in this way that a larger congregation may be reached.
In the home of Charlie and Bessie's parents at Ringgold, I wrote every word of this sketch. It is with considerable hesitancy, too, that the parents allow the facts to be told, since it enters right into their home life, and since some might misjudge their intention concerning their children.
May his heart's desire now be realized--to be a missionary.
W. B. S.
_Edgemont, Md., Feb. 2, 1894._
CHARLIE NEWCOMER
CHAPTER I.
AT THE RINGGOLD SCHOOL.
”Hurry up Charlie, for as soon as we get our dinner over, we want to play base-ball, and you're on our side, you know,” called one of the scholars of the Ringgold school to Charlie Newcomer, as he was going home at noon for his dinner. Charlie's home was only a few rods from the school house, and on the same side of the road.
”All right, boys, I will,” he answered in return, and in a minute more he was home.
Dinner was not ready when he reached home, for his mamma had been putting out her was.h.i.+ng that forenoon. So he brought the water and then went to the cellar for the bread and b.u.t.ter while his mamma made the gravy, and dinner was soon on the table. While they were eating, Charlie said, ”Do you think, mamma, I can get up head this afternoon?
I've studied my lessons very well.”
”I don't know, indeed,” said his mamma, ”you cannot unless some one above you should make a mistake, and the other scholars are as anxious to stand well as you are.”
”They're awful hard lessons, and surely some one will miss, and I'm just waiting for a chance like that. You know I hate to be foot,” he continued, ”and if I hadn't 'a' missed that day three weeks ago, I would have been head now.”
He had finished his dinner before his mother and little sister, and was off to school while they were yet at the table.
The boys in the play ground had changed their minds about playing base-ball, from the fact that some wanted to begin playing right away, while others wanted to wait for the return of those who had gone home for dinner. Some wanted to choose new sides, and others wanted to remain as they had been the day before; and yet others, as they said, ”didn't want to play anyhow,” and in the midst of so many voices, they all went to playing ”Drop the handkerchief,” girls and boys together.
Charlie was especially fond of playing ”Drop the handkerchief,” and when he saw it was that game instead of ball, it did not take long until he was at it with all his might. Adding his kerchief to those already afloat, he ran around the large circle never faster.
Grown up people sometimes wonder how it is that children are willing to play until they are all in a perspiration, but children just as well wonder at grown up people for working with the same result.
The ringing of the school bell brought the game to a close. Nearly all of the scholars went at once into the house, while a few lingered on the porch to get a drink of water and cool off a little before going in.
How quiet it seems just after all the boys and girls are called from the play-ground to their books.
The school building at Ringgold is at one end of the town, and the town is a little, long one, right on the top of a large, long hill. On either side you can see the mountains, and from Ringgold to the mountain eastward, even away up on the side of the mountain, are thousands and thousands of peach trees.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RINGGOLD SCHOOLHOUSE.]