“Henry, I asked you to remain after school a few minutes because I
wanted you to help me re-arrange the desks and furniture, but I had
another reason for asking you to remain, and I think it is more
important than the one I have just stated.”
The desks had all been arranged according to the teacher’s notion, and
Henry Holt had gathered up his books to go home. It was then that his
teacher, Miss Ada Johnson, addressed him.
“Won’t you sit down here a minute, David?” she continued. “I wish to
speak to you a minute or two.”
[Illustration: A HEART-TO-HEART TALK.]
David quietly took a seat. He was one of the largest boys in school, and
had been giving an unusual amount of trouble during the day. In fact he
had been a source of annoyance ever since the new teacher had taken
charge.
“David,” the teacher went on, “I wonder if you realize how hard you have
made it for me in school today? Is there any reason why we cannot be
friends and work together? And I wish to be a friend to you, if you will
let me. You could help me so much and you could help your schoolmates so
much if you only would. I want to ask you if you think your conduct has
been manly to-day? Has it been kind?”
David said nothing, but hung his head.
“I heard before I came here that you were an unruly boy. People say that
you will neither study nor work, and some people say that you are a very
mean boy. Some of these things may be true, David, I am sorry to say,
but I want to tell you that you are the only hope of a widowed mother,
and I want to say, also, that I think that you are breaking her heart.”
The teacher’s voice faltered at the last words.
“I know that your father,” the low voice went on, “was a brave and noble
man; and when I hear people say, ‘It is a good thing that Henry Oliver
died before he knew what his son was coming to,’ I think what a pity it
is that they cannot say, ‘How sad it is that Henry Oliver died before he
could know what a fine, manly fellow his son would be, and what a stay
and comfort to his mother’.”
The boy’s head dropped to the desk in front of him, and he began to sob.
The teacher went over to him and said gently:
“You can be all this. It is in your power to be all that your father
would have you, all that your mother would have you. Will you not turn
over a new leaf now, not only in your behavior and work in school, but
in your whole life as well?”
David raised his head.
“I am with you--I’ll do it, teacher,” he replied, a new resolve shining
in his face. All that day he did some of the most serious thinking of
his life. And he kept his promise.
The years have been many since then. The little teacher has long since
passed to her rest, but David Oliver is a living monument to the power
of a few searching words, the potency of a little personal interest and
kindliness manifested at a critical time.