694 
Oct.  22 
THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER. 
“CROSSING  THE  BAR.” 
The  following’  short  poem  is  considered 
by  many  as  the  best  ever  written  by 
Tennyson.  The  dead  poet’s  ending  was 
as  he  wished  it  should  be : 
Sunset  and  evening  star. 
□  And  on  clear  call  for  me! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar, 
When  X  put  out  to  sea. 
But  such  a  tide  as  moving  seems  asleep, 
Too  full  for  sound  and  foam. 
When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep 
Turns  again  home. 
Twilight  and  evening  bell, 
And  after  that  the  dark! 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell 
When  I  embark: 
For  tho’  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 
The  flood  may  near  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 
When  I  have  crossed  the  bar. 
The  Columbus  Scare. 
The  teacher  of  M - township  had 
called  a  meeting  of  the  parents,  friends 
and  directors  of  the  school  to  meet  at 
the  schoolhouse  on  a  certain  evening  to 
talk  over  and  arrange  a  programme  for 
the  observance  of  Columbus  Day.  As  the 
evening  shadows  began  to  gather  the 
farmers  accompanied  by  their  children, 
members  of  the  school,  began  to  arrive 
and  soon  the  business  of  the  evening 
was  under  full  headway,  that  is,  the 
most  pompous  director,  Mr.  Simpson, 
was  in  the  chair,  another  director  was 
secretary  and — but  all  this  has  nothing 
to  do  with  my  story.  What  happened 
that  night  was  to  the  pupils  gathered  in 
a  merry  group  on  the  outside,  for  the 
proceedings  in  the  schoolhouse  were  too 
dry  for  them  to  take  part,  so  they  re¬ 
mained  on  the  play  ground. 
The  exciting  game  of  Black  Man  was 
in  full  sway,  when  suddenly,  as  if  by 
magic,  a  silence  settled  on  the  hitherto 
noisy  crowd.  What  caused  it?  Was  it 
the  noise  of  the  sudden  burst  of  thunder 
that  rent  the  air,  or  was  it  the  vivid  flash 
of  lightning  that  preceded  it?  Or  was  it 
because  a  dark  cloud  suddenly  hid  the 
bright  light  of  the  moon  ?  So  the  chil¬ 
dren  huddled  together  like  frightened 
sheep,  a  timid  little  urchin  expressed  the 
thought  that  was  in  every  heart,  as  he 
pointed  a  trembling  finger  to  the  beauti¬ 
ful  resting  place  of  the  dead  that  bor¬ 
dered  the  western  side  of  the  play  ground 
and  said,  “  See  !  a  ghost.” 
“Shut  up!  that’s  only  a  monument 
you  see,”  came  the  harsh  answer  of  Jim 
Simpson,  the  pompous  director's  boy. 
“  I  tell  you  I  saw  something  tall  and 
white  like  a  ghost  and  it  was  moving 
about,”  answered  the  little  boy. 
“  Ghost !  Why  there’s  no  such  thing,” 
said  Jim;  “but  I’ll  tell  you  what,  let’s 
all  take  a  walk  through  the  graveyard; 
I’ll  take  the  lead,  who  will  follow?” 
Reluctantly  came  the  “  I  ”  from  every 
one,  for  Jim  was  a  leader  and  commander 
among  the  school  children. 
Slowly,  solemnly  they  walked  in  In¬ 
dian  file  across  the  play  ground  through 
the  tall,  rank  rag  weeds  and  climbed 
through  a  broken  panel  of  the  high  pal¬ 
ing  fence. 
Now,  the  graveyard  was  a  familiar 
place  and  had  no  dread  for  these  children 
in  the  day  time,  but  to-night,  Ah  !  that 
was  different,  but  they  sturdily  kept  in 
the  wake  of  their  leader,  who  was  taking 
them  straight  to  the  high  towering  monu¬ 
ment  of  Judge  Brown,  where  the  little 
boy  had  pointed  out  the  “  ghost.” 
Outwardly  Jim  Simpson  seemed  uncon¬ 
cerned  and  brave,  but  if  the  truth  be 
hearken  to  the  pleadings  of  a  supplicant 
from  the  other  world.” 
“  W-hat — what  is  it  ?”  faintly  asked 
the  leader  of  our  brave  Americans,  as  he 
and  his  followers  stood  rooted  to  the 
spot.  They  dared  not  turn  and  run,  for 
the  awful  figure  might  pursue  them. 
“  My  free  Americans  I  am  he,  Chris¬ 
topher  Columbus,  the  discoverer  of  your 
native  land.  It  is  to  decide  how  to  ap¬ 
propriately  celebrate  this  discovery  that 
the  meeting  has  been  called  to-night. 
And  what  do  you  here  at  this  time  of 
night,  while  yonder  in  that  place  of 
learning  your  aged  sires  are  planning 
what  should  be  your  work.  Young 
Americans,  shame  on  you  !  ” 
“  We — never  thought  of  that  but  Mr. 
— Mr.  Columbus  let  us  go  back.” 
“I  let  you  go?  Why  how  do  I  keep 
you?  But,  pray,  listen  yet  a  little  longer, 
I  will  soon  be  done,  my  strength  fast 
gives  away.  I  must  hasten  and  depart  to 
my  long  weary  resting  place  in  the  other 
world;  but  I  beg  of  you  to  have  my  bones 
brought  to  this  free,  happy  and  peace¬ 
ful  land  which  I  discovered,  and  have 
them  interred.  They  rightfully  belong 
here,  but  I  am  growing  weary,  pass  to 
the  other  side  of  the  grounds  and  return 
directly  and  I  will  then  inform  you  how 
to  accomplish  this  most  noble  and  diffi¬ 
cult  work.  Adieu  till  then,  my  free 
Americans.” 
Obediently  the  spell-bound  children 
moved  with  quickened  pace  to  the  de¬ 
sired  place. 
“  Quick  !  let’s  break  for  the  school 
house,”  whispered  Jim. 
“  But  we  can  only  reach  it  by  passing 
back  through  this  awful  place,”  whis¬ 
pered  a  girl. 
“  A  run  for  it  then,”  shouted  Jim,  and, 
with  all  their  speed,  as  if  the  Black  Man 
of  their  game  were  after  them,  they  fled 
in  earnest  through  the  haunted  place. 
At  the  broken  panel  of  the  fence  they 
ran  onto  the  rolling,  laughing  figure  of 
a  tall,  slim  boy  who  was  alternately 
stuffing  the  ends  of  the  large,  white 
linen  duster  belonging  to  the  teacher’s 
buggy  in  his  mouth,  and  tugging  at  the 
refractory  knot  which  held  the  large, 
white  handkerchief  with  which  his  head 
was  tightly  bound.  His  merriment  was 
such  that  all  his  efforts  to  unrobe  him¬ 
self  were  vain. 
“  Hello,  geese  !  and  say,  Jim,  do  you 
believe  in  ghosts  now  ?  ”  was  his  greet- 
ing. 
“Sam  Smith,  you  coward!  was  that 
you  behind  Judge  Brown's  monument  ?  ” 
“  No,  that  was  the  returned  spirit  of 
Christopher  Columbus.” 
“  I’ll  lick  you,  see  if  I  don’t.” 
“  Say,  Jim,  you  know  I’ve  whipped 
you  three  times  already  this  year,  and 
shall  I  give  you  a  fourth  ?” 
“  Well,  let’s  go  in  the  school  house  and 
see  what  the  old  folks  are  doing,”  mut¬ 
tered  Jim. 
“  Hold  !  not  a  word  of  this,  mind  you,” 
cautioned  Sam. 
“  No.  The  one  that  blabs  gets  a  scud¬ 
ding.  Do  you  all  hear  ?  ”  and  Jim  again 
had  his  little  band  under  his  sway. 
The  meeting  closed.  The  tired  farmers 
with  muddled  brains  trying  to  keep  in 
mind  this,  that  and  other  things  per¬ 
taining  to  this,  a  national  holiday,  to  be 
properly  observed  in  all  public  schools, 
returned  to  their  homes.  The  silent 
children  followed,  but  the  “scare”  had 
The  youth,  with  an  air  of  kindly  pat¬ 
ronage,  replied,  “I  have  not  met  the 
word  in  my  Latin  reading,  but  I  should 
have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  it 
should  be  pronounced  ‘  so-met '-i-mes’” 
(giving  it  in  four  syllables,  the  accent  on 
the  second). 
“Thank  you  for  telling  me,”  replied 
the  girl,  demurely.  “I  have  always 
heard  it  pronounced  sometimes,  but  if  you 
say  the  other  way,  that  must  be  right.” 
This  is  similar  to  the  perhaps  familiar 
catch  of  the  pronunciation  of  “  bac-kac- 
he,”  which  will  often  surprise  the  unin¬ 
itiated  by  proving  to  be  only  hack-ache. 
It  also  reminds  one  of  a  question  printed 
some  years  since,  as  to  the  way  of  spell¬ 
ing  “  need” — to  need  bread.  The  aver¬ 
age  person  will  reply,  “k-n-e-a-d,  of 
course;”  but  the  answer  will  be,  “that 
is  the  way  to  spell  knead  dough,  but  not 
to  need  bread.” 
Boomeba.no  Throwers. — A  number  of 
black  men  from  Australia  have  come  to 
this  country  to  give  exhibitions  of  their 
power  in  throwing  the  boomerang.  Their 
first  exhibition  is  thus  described  by  a 
San  Francisco  paper : 
One  after  another  they  stepped  to  the 
front,  and  after  balancing  as  a  baseball 
pitcher  does,  slashed  out  with  the  hand 
holding  the  boomerang  and  sent  it 
straight  forward  for  a  few  yards.  Then 
the  infernal  machine  began  to  climb, 
and,  when  40  or  50  feet  from  the  ground, 
began  to  traverse  a  circle,  great  in  pro¬ 
portion  to  the  impetus  given.  Whirling 
rapidly  on  its  own  axis  and  describing  a 
perfect  circle,  the  boomerang  flew  until 
nearly  over  the  point  from  which  it 
started.  Then  it  dipped  toward  the 
earth,  but  seemed  to  gain  an  added 
power  and  rose  again  to  describe  another 
and  smaller  circle,  finally  falling  to  the 
earth  near  the  man  who  threw  it. 
Thrown  by  King  Bill  or  one  of  the 
stronger  men,  such  as  Tommy,  the  wea¬ 
pon  was  made  to  travel  a  circumference 
with  a  diameter  of  about  100  yards. 
Thrown  less  forcibly,  it  skimmed  lightly 
about  just  over  the  heads  of  the  specta¬ 
tors.  All  but  one  of  the  black  fellows 
threw  with  the  right  hand,  and  their 
boomerangs  circled  from  right  to  left. 
William  Howes  was  left  handed,  but 
that  seemed  to  make  no  difference.  He 
made  his  boomerang  fly  just  as  the 
others  did,  or  at  will  sent  it  around  the 
other  way. 
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told  he  was  quaking  with  fear  as  he  cast 
his  eye  over  the  solemn  ground,  with  the 
stillness  of  the  night  only  broken  by  the 
tread  of  his  followers  as  they  stumbled 
done  them  good.  They  had  a  deeper, 
nobler  feeling  for  the  much  persecuted 
discoverer  of  their  own  free  America 
which  ought  to  bear  his  name. 
farmer’s  girl. 
HILL’S  MILK  AERATOR. 
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DAIRYMEN.  ADDRESS 
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through  the  high,  rank  grass,  and  heard 
the  rumbling  of  distant  thunder.  He 
wished  he  hadn’t  made  the  venture.  By 
this  time  the  moonlight  had  become 
fainter  as  the  storm  gathered  darker  and 
darker  in  the  skies. 
“  Come  on  boys  and  girls,  don’t  get 
scared.”  Jim  was  thus  encouraging  his 
band  of  followers  when  a  shrouded  figure 
emerged  from  behind  Judge  Brown's 
monument  and  a  low  sepulchral  voice  in 
pleading  accents  said: 
“Stop,  my  free  Americans  !  Stop  for  a 
moment  in  your  onward  march  and 
Odds  and  Ends. 
Some  Smart  Spellers. — H  arper’s 
Young  People  gives  these  illustrations  of 
the  way  pronunciation  sometimes  trips 
up  speliing : 
A  young  lady  was  once  talking  with  a 
very  young  and  very  smart  man,  who 
was  inclined  to  air  his  knowledge  of  the 
languages  a  little  beyond  what  she 
felt  that  modesty  required.  She  there¬ 
fore  said  to  him,  with  an  air  of  deference 
to  his  superior  attainments. 
“  You  are  a  .Latin  scholar.  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  how  to  pronounce  the  word 
‘  so-met-i  mes.’  ” 
Ji.  niiiiq  H  DO  1  UJ^AUiN,  A1AOJS 
STAR  MILK 
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Preparing  Vegetables  for  the  Table . 50 
Rhododendrons .  . 1.50 
Roses  In  the  Garden  and  Under  Glass.  Rider. 
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Talks  Afield.  Bailey  . 1.00 
The  Dog.  Youatt .  ....  2.50 
Timbers  and  How  to  Grow  Them.  Hartig . 75 
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