Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1893 — Popular. [ARTICLE]

Popular.

Archdeacon Williams, whom Sir Walter Scott called “a heaven-born teacher,” was greatly beloved at Edinburgh Academy, where he presided. His treatment of the boys was in harmony with his open, unaffected character. Rev. W. H. Langhorne says, in his “Reminiscences," that one day when the rector was going through the football grounds to his class-room the ball chanced to bound toward him. The spirit of his youth came mightily upon him, and he rushed at the ball, his gown flying in the air, and a powerful man, sent it over the railing into a carpenter’s yard on the other side of the street. Away trooped the boys to beg the janitor to open the gate on the plea that it was the rector who had sent the ball out of bounds. Now the janitor had lost an arm, and wore a hook on which was hanging the bunch*of keys for which the boys were pleading. One of the boys boldly slipped them off the hook, and while the others detained the janitor, unlocked the gate. Then they all rushed together across the yard, and swooped down upon the carpenter’s premises. He was amazed, the janitor was very angry, and the rector was vastly pleased. Every one knew that he was pleased, for when the class reassembled he sat chuckling to himself and smoothing down the knees of his trousers, a habit which always indicated a merry mood, and which resulted in a fine satin polish on his nether garment. On another occasion a boy was stumbling through a translation, arid at his wit’s end, whispered his neighbor to tell him the meaning of a word. “Anything you like," said the other, in pure mischief, and the translator desperately repeated: “Anything you like!" The rector broke into a hearty laugh, and almost beside himself with merriment left his high desk and came down to enjoy the joke with the boys. He was the true and familiar friend of his class, and they loved him without fear. If one were diligent, it was enough. He was never satirized or reproved because he could not move mountains. “You may not be a great scholar," the rector would say, gently, “but I am sure you will be a good man.” —Youth’s Companion.