MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
$ ini tat tonal. 
THE SCHOOL-MISTRESS. 
“ The school raa’m’s coming—tho school 
ma’in’s coming !” shouted a dozen voices at 
tho close of half an hour’s faithful watch to 
catch a glimpse of our teacher. Every eye 
was turned towards her with tho most scru¬ 
tinizing glance—for children as well as oth¬ 
ers always form an opinion of a person, par¬ 
ticularly of their teachor. at first sight. 
“ IIow tall she is !” exclaimed one. 
“No, I aint afraid of her, nor a dozen like 
her,” exclaimed the “ big boy” of the school. 
“Nor I, either,” cried the big boy’s little 
ally; I could lick hor oasy enough, could’nt 
you Tom? 
“ Yes; and I will, too, if she goes to touch 
mo.” 
“ Hush !” cried one of tho girls, “ she will 
hear you.” 4 
By this time she had noarl'y reached the 
door around which they clustered, and ev¬ 
ery eye was fixed upon her face with an ea¬ 
ger yet bashful gaze, uncertain as yet what 
verdict to pass on her. 
“ Good morning, children,” she said in the 
kindest voice in the world, while her face 
was lighted with the sweetest smile imagi¬ 
nable. “ This is a beautiful morning to com¬ 
mence school, is it not.'” 
“ I know I shall love her,” whispered a 
little pet in my ear. 
Wo all followed her into tho school room 
except Tom Jones and his ally, who watched 
until tho rost were seated and then came in 
with a swaggering, noisy gait, and a sort of 
dare devil, saucy look, as much as to say, 
“ who cares for you 1 ” 
Miss Wescott looked at them kindly, but 
appeared not to notice them farther. After 
a short prayer, and reading a chapter in tho 
Bible, she passed around the room and made 
some remarks in regard to themselves and 
their studies. 
“ And what is your namo?” she asked, lay¬ 
ing hor hand on Tom’s head, while he sat 
with both hands in his pockots swinging his 
body backwards and forwards. 
“ Tom Jones,” shouted ho at the top of 
his voice. 
“ How old are you, Thomas?” she asked. 
“ Just as old again as half,” answered Tom 
with a saucy laugh. 
“ What do you study, Thomas?” 
“ Nothing.” 
“ What books have you?” 
“ None.” 
Without appearing to bo at all disturbed 
at his replies. Miss Wescott said, “ I am 
glad I am to have one or two large boys in 
my school; you can be of great assistance 
to me. Thomas if you will stop a few mo¬ 
ments after school this afternoon wo will 
talk over a plan I have formed.” 
This was a mystery to all, and particu¬ 
larly to Tom, who could not comprehend 
how he could bo mado useful to anybody, 
for tho first time in his life ho folt as if he 
was of some importance in tho world. He 
had always been, called the “bad boy” at 
school, and ho tonk a sortfof pride in being 
feared by tho children and dreaded by the 
teacher. 
Miss Wescott comprehended his whole 
character and began to shapo her plans ac¬ 
cordingly. She maintained that a boy who 
at twelve years of ago made himself feared 
among his schoolmates, was capable of be¬ 
ing mado something of. Heretofore all in¬ 
fluences had conspired to make him bad, 
and perhaps a desperate character; she was 
determined to transform his character, by 
bringing opposite influences to work upon 
him ; and to effect this she must first win 
his confidence, which could not be done in 
a better way than letting him feel that she 
placed confidence in him. 
When school was out, more than half of 
tho scholars lingered about tho door won¬ 
dering what Miss Wescott had to say to 
Tom J. Ho had often been bid to remain 
till after school, hut it was to receive pun¬ 
ishment or a lecture, and nine times out of 
ten he would jump out of tho room, but it 
was evidently for a different purposo that 
he was to remain now, and no one wonder¬ 
ed what it could be more than Tom Jones. 
“ Don’t you think Thomas that our school 
room would bo far more pleasant if wo had 
some evergreens to hang about it; some¬ 
thing to make it more cheerful?” inquirod 
Miss Wescott. 
“ Yos’m, and I know whero I can get plen¬ 
ty of them.” 
“ Well, Thomas, if you will have some 
here by eight o’clock to-morrow morning. 
I will bo here to help you put them up, and 
wo will give tho childron a pleasant sur¬ 
prise. Hero are some books I will give you 
Thomas; you may put them in your drawer, 
as they are what I want you to study.” 
“ But I can’t study geography and histo¬ 
ry,” exclaimed Tom confused, “I never did.” 
“ That is the reason why you think you 
cannot,” replied Miss Wescott; “I am quite 
sure you can, and will love them too.” 
“ Nobody ever cared whether I learned 
or not before,” said Thomas, with some emo¬ 
tion. 
“Well, I care,” said Miss Wescott with 
earnestness; you are capable of becoming 
a great and good man; you are forming a 
character for life, and it depends upon your¬ 
self what you become. The poorest boy in 
the country has an equal chance with the 
wealthiest, and his circumstances are favor¬ 
able for becoming eminent, for ho learns to 
depond upon himself. I will assist you all 
I can in your studies, Thomas, and I know 
you will succeed. Remember that I am 
your friend, and come to me in every diffi¬ 
culty.” 
Tom Jones had not been brought up; he 
had come up, because he had been born in¬ 
to tho world and couldn’t holp it; but as for 
any mental or moral training, ho was guilt¬ 
less of it as a wild bramblo or a pruning 
knife. His father was a bad man, and his 
mother a totaly inefficient woman. At home 
ho recoived nothing but blows, and abroad 
nothing but abuso. Bad passions were there¬ 
fore all excited and fostered, and his good 
ones never called out. He always expect¬ 
ed his teachers would hate him, so he whet- 
tod anew his combative powers to oppose 
thorn, and ho had mado up his mind to turn 
the new school ma’m out of doors. 
When therefore Miss Wescott declared 
that she was glad ho was in her school, ho 
was amazed, and could not understand why 
she should manifest such an intorost for 
him, and to give a set of books was perfect¬ 
ly incomprehensible to him. Miss Wescott 
understood his position and character, and 
determined to modify them. She folt that 
I 10 was equally capablo of good and bad ac¬ 
tions, though the bad now predominated.— 
She knew that his mind must be busy; one 
might as well think of chaining the light¬ 
ning, as bending down that wild spirit to 
his books. She would give him employ¬ 
ment, but such as would call out a train of 
ideas and thoughts. Ho must feel that ho 
was doing good for others’ sake, and that ho 
was not guided alone by his own wayward 
will, yet there must bo no appearance of 
restraint upon him; he must choose to do 
good. 
Tom Jones went homo that night with a 
new spirit in his breast; for the first time 
in his life ho felt that he was capablo of ris¬ 
ing above his present condition, and becom¬ 
ing somewhat greater and bettor than he 
was. His mind bocamo inundated with now 
and strange emotions, and liko a mighty 
river turned from its course, his thoughts 
and energies from that hour sought a new 
direction. 
The next morning he was up with the 
dawn, and when Miss Wescott arrived at the 
school house she found Tom Jones there 
with his ovei'greens. • 
“ Good morning, Thomas,” she said kind¬ 
ly, “ so you are here before me-; you must 
have risen early and I see you have found 
somo beautiful evergreens. Now, if you will 
help me hang them, wo will havo tho room 
arranged before 9 o’clock.” 
“ I havo brought a hammer and somo 
nails,” said Tom; “I thought wo should need 
them.” 
“ Yes, so wo shall; I am glad you thought 
of it,” replied Miss Wescott. 
That day every scholar looked amazed to 
sco Tom Jones actually studying his book, 
and hear him answer soveral questions cor¬ 
rectly, and they were still more confound¬ 
ed when, at recess, Miss Wescott said : 
“ Thomas you will take care of those lit¬ 
tle children, will you not, and see that they 
don’t got hurt; you must bo their protector.” 
One would as soon have thought of set¬ 
ting a wolf to guard a flock of lambs, as 
Tom Jones to tako chargo of tho smaller 
children. 
“ Well,” exclaimed Sam Evans, “ I never 
saw such a school *ia’m in all the days of 
my lifo, did you Tom?” 
“ No,” ropliod Tom, “ but I wish I had ; I 
would havo been a different boy from what 
I am now; but I am going to study and learn 
something ; Miss Wescott says I can, and I 
am Dow determined to try.” 
I was astonished to see tho effect that 
Miss Wescott’s treatment of Tom had upon 
tho scholars; they began to consider him of 
somo importance, and to feel a sort of res¬ 
pect for him which they at first manifested 
by dropping the nick-name Tom, and sub¬ 
stituting Tommy, which revealed, certainly, 
a more kindly feeling towards him. 
In loss than a week Miss Wescott had tho 
school completely undor her control, yet it 
was by love and rospect she governed, and 
not by an iron rule; she moved among her 
scholars a very queen, and yet so gained 
their confidence and esteem, that it dicl not 
seem to them submission to another’s will, 
but tho promptings of their own desire to 
please. One glance of her dark eye would 
have quelled an insurrection, and made 
them happy for a day. 
Julia Wescott always taught school with 
a realization of tho responsibilities resting 
upon her, and she bent her energies to ful¬ 
fil them. Carefully and skillfuly she unlock¬ 
ed tho soul’s door and gave a searching 
within, in order to understand the capabili¬ 
ties, and she shaped its course accordingly. 
The desponding and inactive sheencourged; 
the obstinate she subdued ; to tho yielding 
and fickle she taught a strong self-reliance. 
She encouraged the single rain drop to do 
all the good it could, and tho rushing tor- 
rontshe turned where it would fertilize rath¬ 
er than devastate. 
There are in every school some dormant 
energies, which if aroused might shake the 
world; which if let loose will liko tho light¬ 
ning of tho heavens scatter ruin and blight, 
but if controlled, may like that element, be¬ 
come the messenger of thought to the world. 
In that head you call dull may be slumber¬ 
ing passions liko some pent up volcano;open 
that closed crater and see if there don’t 
belch forth flames which your hand cannot 
stop. 
* * ¥ * * * * 
The sower in the parable sowed good 
seed, but that only which reached good 
ground bore good fruit; had the thorns been 
rooted out and tho soil enriched, would not 
tho other fields have yielded a harvest also? 
I have seen a teacher mako his entrance in¬ 
to a school by reading a list of rules two or 
three feet in length—you must do this, you 
must not do that—without a single remark 
upon tho propriety, tho why and the where¬ 
fore, of tho thing, but only, you must not 
do so. 
You might as well attempt to cure a man 
of stealing by pelting him with pebbles.— 
The truth certainly hits hard enough—and 
so would stones ; let a man feel the beauty 
and virtue of tho law, and ho will be quito 
as apt to profit by it. 
Julia Wescott understood nature; she 
mado it a study, as every toacher ought to 
do. She rooted out error and prejudice 
from tho midst of hor pupils, showed them 
tho evil of sin and tho beauty of virtue, tho 
advantage of education, and the consequence 
of ignorance ; taught them their own capa¬ 
bilities and responsibilities, and adapted her 
instructions to capacities and necessities.— 
And thus she went on from year to year— 
scattering good seed on good ground—and 
she reaped an abundant harvest. From 
many a nappy home and high place came a 
blessing upon her ; and there is no one who 
breathes her name with more grateful affec¬ 
tion than Tom Jones, who has filled with 
ability one of tho highest judicial offices in 
tho Union, and freely acknowledges that ho 
owes his present character and position, un¬ 
der God’s providence, to her treatment and 
instructions. 
Truly, ho that goeth forth weoping, bear¬ 
ing, precious seed, shall come again rej«ie- 
ing bringing his sheaves with him. 
from the sheet of card-board, and inner 
hexagon, the operator must be cautious to 
cut with great steadiness and accuracy; and 
when joining the sides together, care should 
bo taken to keep them in their proper pla¬ 
ces, till the coment is quite dry. 
Jf0T % §011110. 
jfSvj : ^ 
lar hexagonal, or six-sided, baskot.; and in 
fig. 2, the plan of it is shown. Draw a cir- 
clo of the dimensions you wish tho bottom 
of your basket to bo, as at a, a, a, a, a, fig. 
2, and divide it off into six parts; next mako 
another circle at tho intonded height of tho 
sides, as b, b, b, b. b, b, and draw linos thro’ 
the corners of tho opposite sides of tho hexa¬ 
gon, as shown by the dotted lines, and the 
perpendicular form of the sides will bo then 
obtained. To give the necessary slant to 
the sides, a certain measurement must be 
taken, as C, c, c, E, on each side of tho dot¬ 
ted lino ; and the same measurement must 
bo observed with all tho sides, otherwise, 
when put together, the inclination of the 
sides, as at B, C, D, E, will not correspond 
as truly as they should do ; these lines being 
adjusted, straight lines must be made on 
tho outer circle, as C, E, to mark tho straight 
tops of tho sides of tho baskets exactly paral¬ 
lel with the inner hexagon. If the young 
artist wishes to make any ornaments upon 
tho sides, they must be drawn and cut out 
carefully ero tho sides are separated from 
the surrounding board. Tho ornament 
shewn in our figure is well adapted for this 
shaped basket, and has a'pretty effect when 
cut throngh. and delicately tintod paper put 
behind it. When detaching tho side pieces 
Jik 
eg. 
' 
MODELING IN CARD-BOARD. 
Among tho many in-door pursuits in 
which boys or girls indulge, there is none 
moro interesting and instructive than that 
of modeling in card-board, and wo flatter 
ourselves that tho following little treatise 
will afford much gratification to such of our 
readers as may happen to have their organs 
of constructiveness strongly developed. 
Tho implements requisite are not very 
numerous or expensive; they consist of a 
parallel rule; a flat rule or scale, divided 
into inches, halves, quarters, and half-quar- 
r tor inches ; a T squai’o, 
1 r i—~ fig. 1, in the accompany- 
\ 3 4 ing illustration; a car- 
A | penter’s square, fig. 2 ; a 
A pair of compasses, fig. 3; 
\ 1 having a movable leg, 
\l with pencil, steel-pen, 
V and knife to fit in, as oc- 
a ; casion may require; a 
J knife of the shapo rep¬ 
resented in fig. 4; punches of various sizes; 
a pair of scissors ; one or two chisels; and a 
drawing-board of well-seasoned wood. 
Tho card-board should bo secured to tho 
drawing-board, either by pasting it down 
round tho edgos, or by fixing it down by a 
pin in each corner. After tho design is 
carefully made out, the rule or square must 
be pressed very firmly and evenly upon it, 
and the knife carried steadily close to the 
rule. In cutting circles, it is better not to 
cut quito through the card-board, with tho 
point of the knife, but to finish with the edge 
of tho blade, or the scissors. 
Common glue is frequently employed for 
fastening the edges of card-board together, 
but it requires to bo used very carefully, 
otherwise tho yellow' tint of tho gluo looks 
very disagreeablo and unworkmanlike.— 
Mouth glue is also sometimes used : it is no 
more than common glue with a little scent 
in it, to take away its disagreeablo odor. 
Wo shall commence our instructions with 
some directions respecting the manufacture 
of baskets in card-board as they aro easy of 
execution, and form a good prelude to the 
more difficult subjects. In the annexed il¬ 
lustration, fig. 1 is a representation of regu- 
A BASKET WITH BENT SIDES. —The plan of 
this basket is similar to that of tho former, 
but, as its sides are curved inward, a differ¬ 
ent method ot shaping them is necessary.— 
After tho inner and outer hexagons havo 
been drawn, and tho squares of the sides ad¬ 
justed. to givo them the proper degree of 
curve, put the point of tho compass in A, 
afterwards in B, draw with tho pencil-point 
of the compasses two arcs which intersect 
each other in C; this done, place tho com¬ 
pass-point at C. then describe tho arc A, B, 
which will givo the necessary curve to one 
side, and then from tho points D, and E, 
draw two arcs crossing each other at F.— 
From this last point, the arc D, E. may bo 
described ; and care must betaken that F is 
precisely the samo dislanco from D, and E, 
that C. is from A, and B, otherwise the curve 
of tho sides will not bo true. To produce 
the curved line G, for tho top of tho side, 
tho compass-point should be put in B, and 
tho arc E, II, described ; and afterwards 
from E. the arc E. II; from this intersect¬ 
ing point the curve G, may then readily be 
drawn. When one side is cut out. it may 
be used as a pattern for the remainder.— 
Tho decorations on the sides wo leave to the 
contrivers, as our illustration shows but a 
very plain species of ornament. For tho 
handle, an embossed pattern may be used; 
or if a fantastic shapo bo preferred, tho de¬ 
signer must exort his taste; tho handle 
should bo lined with a flattened wire, to give 
it greater strength ? and the samo paper as 
tho interior of tho basket is papered with 
pasted over its under part, to hide the wire. 
KINDNESS. 
“ Kindness lias resistless charms, 
All things else but weakly move ; 
Fiercest aiifjer it disarms, 
And clips the wings of Hying love.” 
“ Will you please to open this gato?” asked 
a flaxen haired little boy, who was vainly 
attempting to force open a frozen gato, to a 
gentleman who was passing, without notic¬ 
ing his puny efforts, one cold frosty morn¬ 
ing last week; “ I havo been long trying, 
but can’t” and tho little fellow stopped to 
warm by his breath, his cold, blue fingors. 
But the passer by, warmly muffled in cloak 
and mittens, did not heed him, but giving a 
hasty glance passed rapidly on. The little 
fellow again attempted to open tho frozen 
passage, when anothor gentleman passing, 
and noticing his vain efforts, unasked pushed 
open tho gato, and with a sweet “ Thank 
you, sir,” that would havo rewarded hours 
of effort, tho little fellow sped up the broad 
avenue leading to the house and disappear¬ 
ed around a corner of tho building. 
Oh, what a power there is in kindness !— 
Whoever understands his own interests, and 
is pleased with the beautiful rather than the 
deformed, with tho sunshino rather than 
the storm, will be sure to cherish tho virtue 
of kindness. Kindness costs nothing. It 
is a flower blooming spontaneous within tho 
human heart. It requires but a slight 
knowledge of human nature to convince us 
that much of our happiness in lifo consists 
in cherishing and cultivating this virtue.— 
Kindness is exceedingly .lovely and attract¬ 
ive in its appearance, winning tho hearts of 
all, and rendering tho missiles of envy and 
malice powerless and ineffectual, kind¬ 
ness always proves to us and our fellow men, 
that we can command our passions, and soar 
away in tho bright atmosphere of good feel¬ 
ing, wishing well to all men, and live in con¬ 
tinual sunshine. The amount of lmppinoss 
wo can produce is incalculable,—unknown 
—if wo have kindness and sympathy in our 
hearts, a smiling face, and benevolent ac¬ 
tions. There is no pleasure like that which 
springs from a kind act; no matter how 
trifling that act, and then, with the poet we 
feel, that s 
“ Liko warp and wool all destinies 
Are woven fast; 
Linked iu sympathy like the keys 
Of an organ vast; 
Pluck one thread and the wed ye mar; 
Break hut one 
Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar 
Through all will run.’’ l. m. s. 
— IV. Y. Reformer. 
The Whale. —Tho whale, having no air 
bladder, can sink to tho lowest depths of tho 
ocean, and, mistaking tho harpoon for the 
teeth of a sword fish or shark, ho instantly 
descends, this boing tho manner of freeing 
himself from these enemies, who cannot 
bear tho pressure of a deep ocean ; and from 
ascending and descending in small spaco, ho 
puts himself in tho powor of tho whaler; 
whereas, if ho know his force, and wore to 
swim on tho surfaco in a straight line, ho 
would break or destroy tho machinery by 
which ho is arrested, as easily as tho salmon 
breaks tho single lino of a fisher, when his 
reel is entangled- 
Nature teaches us that wo aro all de¬ 
pendant,—that we are like cog-wheels push¬ 
ing oach other along by tilling up mutual 
voids. 
In whatovor shapo evil comes, wo are apt 
to exclaim with Hamlet, “ Tako any shape 
but that!” 
The present is tho mould of the future. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
POWER OF CONVERSATIONAL KINDNESS. 
I. _ 
How often do wo hear from thoso around 
us, “ O ! that I had tho gift of oratory, to 
stand in tho presenco of assembled multi¬ 
tudes, and rouse them to noblo dcods with 
words of rosistless eloquence.” Truly, it is 
a laudable desire. Wha t can bo moro worthy 
of our aspirations, than to face tho world in 
defenco of right; or melt tho hearts of list¬ 
ening hundreds with sympathy for a suffer¬ 
ing brothor ? He is worthy of high rospect 
who socks to dovelop in himself, and use 
aright, such a powerful means of benefiting 
his fellow men. Yet one can pass but a small 
portion of his time in addressing a crowd, 
however eagorly it may hang upon his words; 
and how little the gift of oloquence in the 
forum fits one for gladdening the long hours 
at home, where only one heart is to bo 
cheered, or left moro lonely than when in 
solitude. Many a man, ablo, when aroused, 
to lead whither ho will tho mind of ovory 
listener, is shunned as tho dullest of com¬ 
panions. 
Another would bo ablo to wield the pen, 
and through that instrumentality bear to 
tho burthoned spirits of ovory land, words 
of good cheer and trust in God. This, too, 
is one of the noblest gifts. Endowed with 
this, the farthest spot of inhabitable earth 
alone shall say, “ Here is tho limit of your 
influence ?” But does tho possession of this 
power give one tho same attractiveness in 
his own home circle; or is it like tho tole- 
graph, which bears our words as far as the 
wire can reach, but is worse than useless 
when friends moot face to face ? 
Thoso aro noble gifts, but allow me to 
choose in preference to both, another which 
is loss calculated to win the admiration of 
the world,— is capablo of opening for its 
possessor a way to every hoart. 
It is delightful to listen to words coming 
from a heart warm as our own. IIow often 
havo you, in turning page aftor page of somo 
truthful book, forgotten tho lapse of hours 
which had otherwise wearied you with their 
slow succession ? But when long days of 
illness havo confined you to your room and 
bed—and tho trembling hand lacks strength 
to hold tho book, of which your aching head 
forbids tho perusal—then how your pain is 
forgotten,while somo friendly hand is placed 
lightly 011 tho aching brow, and a sweet 
voice breathos in your ear words of holy 
comfort, or a face whoso ovory look is peaco, 
bonds in humblo prayer upon your pillow. 
Lot months and years confine you to tho 
little world bounded by tho walls of your 
sick room, and will you think it strange 
when I say, “ givo mo conversational pow¬ 
ers ?” 
Far tho greater part of lifo is passed at 
homo, and in its society. Givo me tho pow¬ 
er to mako homo musical with words of holy 
love, a bright spot, where, though sorrow ou¬ 
ter, it may not stay, and will it bo hard to 
boar tho storms of lifo, or tho rudo conflict 
with tho outer world ? To which would tho 
hoart grieving in loneliness at tho death of 
the one most loved of earth, go with its 
load of sadness; to him who could only 
speak words of consolation as applicable to 
a hundred others; to him who would bid 
tho mourner read what ho had written to 
comfort tho sorrowing; or to him who 
would go and kneel with the stricken one 
besido the gravo of tho departed, and thoro 
diroct tho tearful eye to a bright hoaven 
abovo, with words of'peace? “Fear not, 
for I havo redeemed theo; I havo called 
thee by thy namo ; thou art mine. When 
thou passest through tho waters, I will bo 
with theo; and through tho rivers, they 
shall not ovorflow theo. When thou walk- 
est through the fire thou shalt not be 
burned; neither shall tho flames kindlo up¬ 
on theo.” “ In tho world ye shall- havo 
tribulation; but bo of good cheer; I have 
overcome tho world.” “ I will never leave 
theo, nor forsake theo.” 
Who has not seen a child turn from tho 
embodiment of all that could ploaso tho 
ovo, to sit, a charmod listener, on tho lap of 
one whose only attraction was a gentle voice 
speaking words warm with tho love of a 
pure heart ? 
Oratory is a noble gift, by which one leads 
thousands away willing captives. The elo¬ 
quence of tho pon reaches to tho most dis¬ 
tant habitation of man, and lasts till civili¬ 
zation itself goes down in tho darkness of 
barbarism. But what othor gift can lend a 
charm to make homo bright and happy, and 
mark one’s presenco as with the sunlight of 
heaven, liko that of good conversational 
powers ? 
A warm hoart ever going forth in gentle 
doods and words of love to all around, is 
irresistible. Suissac. 
If lifo improves tho character, death will 
improve tho condition. 
