184 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[June, 
These children are in quite a “ fix,” but they seem to 
know how to make the best of it. They have run to the 
nearest shelter, and are patiently waiting until the rain is 
over. The little boy takes it very coolly as he sits on the 
bank watching the great drops fall into the little pools. 
The older girl has not forgotten to take care of her sister, 
who seems to.feel entire confidence in her affectionate 
protection. In looking at this beautiful picture we are 
reminded of the old proverb: “ When it rains, let it rain.” 
The same bit of wisdom is sometimes stated in another 
form : “ Patiently endure what you can not cure.” This 
lesson is well worth learning. It will save many an un¬ 
comfortable hour, and many a sinful thought. Perhaps 
the best way Jo form a habit of doing this, is to try and 
look on the bright side of things. Thus these children 
may make themselves contented by thinking how much 
good the rain'will do: that it will make the vegetables 
and flowers in their garden grow ; that the dust will all 
be laid in the roads, and the trees and grass and grain 
will all be brighter and stronger after the shower. And 
thus when any trouble comes, as it will be pretty sure to 
do before you are many years older, it will be much 
more easily borne, by thinking of the good which may 
come from it. We may not always be able to see be¬ 
forehand how disappointment or difficulty will bring a 
benefit, but if we have proper confidence in the Great 
Disposer of events, we shall feel certain that every trial 
will at last bring good. It is related of a workman in an 
Efiglish mine, that, whatever happened, he used to say, 
R R .—Engraved for the American Agriculturist. 
“ It’s all for the best.” One day, just as he was about go¬ 
ing down to his work in the deep coal pit, a dog run away 
with his dinner which he had laid down for a moment, 
and he had a long chase after him. As he returned,-one 
of his fellow workmen laughingly asked him, “ Do you 
think that was all for the best.” “Certainly” was the 
reply. Just then a fearful cry came up from the pit be¬ 
low. The rope had broken by which workmen were be¬ 
ing letdown, and they had* been dashed to the bottom, 
and most of them killed. If the man had not run after 
the dog, he too would have been among the unfortunate. 
The Boys of New-York City. 
THE NEWSBOYS. 
Many a lad who reads the American Agriculturist, 
thinks New-York City must be a real paradise for boys, 
and longs for the time when he may be old enough and 
have money enough to come here and make his fortune, 
or at least enjoy himself much better than he thinks pos 
sible in the country. We will describe how some classes 
of boys live here, and it will be seen that many of them 
have great reason to desire to exchange places with you. 
The first class that a stranger here would notice, is 
the newsboys, or those who sell newspapers, for they 
put themselves in everybody’s way on purpose to be no¬ 
ticed. They swarm around the railroad depots, steam¬ 
boat landings, hotels, and other busy places, and morn¬ 
ing and evening, when the dally papers are issued, their 
clear loud cry rings out 
“’Eres the Sun, Times, 
Tribune, Post, ’Erald,” 
etc. Most of them have 
unwashed faces and 
hands, uncombed hair, 
unbrushed and unpalch- 
ed clothes; their language 
is not choice, and their 
manners are rough; but 
with all these drawbacks 
has to admire them 
for their self-reliance, 
keenness, and persevering ’ 
industry. They are all 
of poor parents ; 
many of them know little 
or nothing of their father 
and mother, but more 
have been driven from 
by the intemper¬ 
ance of their parents to 
pick up their own liveli¬ 
hood. Hundreds of them 
have no place they can 
call home. They sleep 
in boxes, covered wagons, 
alleyways, or other out- 
of-the-way corners, and 
eat at the cheap restau¬ 
rants or stands in the 
streets. They must be 
on hand at the printing 
offices by three or four 
o’clock in the morning to 
secure a supply of papers 
Most of them have 
own districts in 
which to dispose of their 
and woe be to 
nge boy who at¬ 
tempts to start business on 
his own account in the 
locality occupied by an¬ 
other. He must be pre¬ 
pared to fight a hard bat¬ 
tle, and fairly conquer 
a peaceable possession. 
These boys being com¬ 
pelled to look out for 
themselves, soon become 
very sharp at driving a 
bargain,and no one knows 
better than a newsboy 
how to take advantage of 
circumstances. If any 
important news arrives, 
and extras are issued at 
any hour of day or night, 
they make the most of it, 
often charging double or 
treble the usual rales for 
their papers. In times o( 
great excitement on war 
topics or other matters, 
they sometimes make 
large profits, as high as $5 
in a day, but usually they get only enough to barely live, 
and to spend now and then twenty five cents for admission 
to a cheap seat at the theater, circus, or some other place 
of amusement. A few of these boys go through all the 
trials and temptations belonging to their catling, and by 
industry and perseverance, work their way up to high sta¬ 
tion. More than one now wealthy and respected business 
man in this City was once a newsboy. But for every such 
one, hundreds are ruined by the vices which tempt 
them on every side, and become drunkards, gamblers, or 
thieves. Within a few years past some benevolent men 
have been trying to better the condition of the newsboys. 
They have established a lodging-house for them, where 
they may readily obtain comfortable quarters. They al¬ 
so have their meetings, a library, and other means of im¬ 
provement which have already greatly benefited many of 
them. “ I wouldn’t be a newsboy,” thousands of our 
young readers are ready to say ; but if your parents 
should come here to live, should die here poor, and leave 
you to make your own way in the world, this might be 
almost the only chance open to get a living. Such is the 
history of many who now sell papers for a livelihood. 
Hereafter we may give a sketch of how other boys live 
here to show that boys need not come here for happiness. 
Hint fou the Unpunctual.—' “ Ah, Jemmy,” said a 
sympathizing friend to a man too late for the train, 
“ yjpu didn’t run fast enough.” “ Yse I did,” said Jem¬ 
my, “I ran fast enough, but I didn’t- start soon enough.” 
