j ... 
ill MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 153 
%\t €&trcd0r* 
A GOOD INVESTMENT. 
Mbs of property not unfrequently make 
bitter complaints on account of the burden of 
taxes they are compelled to pay for the sup¬ 
port of schools. 
«It is a shame,” says one of them, “ that 
my property is compelled to pay for the school¬ 
ing of other people’s children ! John Smith, 
who does not own a foot of real estate in the 
world, and no other personal property than a 
scanty amount of household furniture, sends 
half a dozen children to the Common School. 
The house cost the district five thousand dol¬ 
lars, and he never paid one cent towards it3 
erection, while I, who have but one boy in the 
world, paid over one hundred dollars! Under 
our municipal regulations, the school is abso¬ 
lutely free to all scholars in the district, and 
consequently Smith’s six boys are getting an 
excellent education at my expense. They are 
bright intelligent boys I grant, and are dis¬ 
posed to make the most of their advantages ; 
and John Smith is an honest, hard working 
man. All these things, however, do not justi¬ 
fy the act of taking my money to educate his 
children." 
This is an argument often made, or if not 
made, at least imagined, by many a penurious, 
selfish, hard-fisted property holder, whose soul 
is bound up in the occupation of accumulating 
wealth. He does not see that the safety of the 
Republic is based upon the intelligence of the 
people ; and that the very tenure by which he 
holds his property, is the wise and virtuous 
training of the rising generation. An igno¬ 
rant and degraded populace would demand the 
maiutainance of a military force and police, 
strong in proportion to the mental blindness 
of the mass; and these soulless men, who 
grudge the small taxes levied against them for 
the support of schools, would bleed freely for 
the maintainance of the laws. 
Setting aside the higher and nobler idea of 
elevating the race, and kindling the fire of in¬ 
tellectual and moral greatness in the human 
soul, the very cost of maintaining the security 
of life and property, and enabling men to sleep 
quietly in their own beds, and hold undisturbed 
possession of their own fields, would be infi¬ 
nitely greater if the Common School had no 
existence. It is the brighest gem in the pos¬ 
session of a free people, and one without which 
they caunot long remain free. The money 
judiciously expended in the building of school- 
houses and the payment of teacher’s wages, is 
the very best possible investment a man can 
make, returning to him indirectly a thousand 
fold. In the truthful language of the New 
York city school report, “ The school teacher 
is a nobler public servant than the policeman ; 
the school house a nobler edifice than a prison 
or a penitentiary.” 
The peuitentiaries of that city cost more 
than the whole sum spent on school houses 
and sites for the past thirteen years. During 
that period there ha3 been on an average one 
thousand inmates iu the penitentiary, and 
twenty-five thousand children in the public 
schools. One class has been a burden to the 
morals, welfare and wealth of the city; the 
other has been rising up for usefulness and 
honor. The expenditure in one case has been 
a hopeless sinking of capital; the outlay in 
the other has been an investment which will 
repay itself a hundred fold in the present and in 
years to come. 
Good Advice. —The following beautiful 
paragraph is taken from the address delivered 
before the graduating class of Rutger's College, 
by the Hon. Theodore Frelinghuysen : 
“ Resolve to do something useful, honorable, 
dutiful, and do it heartily. Repel the thought 
that you can, and therefore you may, live above 
work and without it. Among the most pitia¬ 
ble objects in society, is the man whose mind 
has not been trained by the discipline of edu¬ 
cation ; who has learned how to think, and the 
value of his immortal powers, and with all 
these noble faculties cultivated, and prepared 
for an honorable activity, ignobly sits down 
to do nothing; with no interest in the con¬ 
cerns of his country, or even his neighborhood, 
to be regarded as drone, without object or 
character, with no hand to lift, and no effort 
to put forth to help the right or defeat the 
wrong. Whocau think with any calmness of 
such a miserable career? And, however it 
may be with you in active enterprise, never 
permit your influence to go into hostility to 
truth and virtue. So live, that with the 
Christian poet, you may truthfully say that 
“ If your country stand not by your skill, 
‘At least your follies have not wrought her fall.*” 
Schools in Boston. —A late report on the 
state of instruction in Boston, states that the 
public schools are attended by about 20,000 
pupils, whose instruction was set down to cost 
$97,000. The total population of Boston is 
136.881, of which 24,204 are between the ages 
of five and fifteen, and the average daily at¬ 
tendance is nearly 19 000. The whole number 
of public schools is 218. for which there are 
40f> teachers. The male teachers receive on 
an average $1,284 per annum, the female 
teachers $324. 
Tt is much easier to discern error than to 
find the truth ; the former lying on the surface, 
is readily perceived—the latter reposes in depth, 
whence uot every one can call her forth. 
SCHOOL HOUSE NO. 3, ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
Sabbat jj fUmsiags* 
LIGHT OF THE AGED. 
BV MARY M. COAST. 
“ Childrkn’s Children are the Crown of old Men, and 
the Glory of Children are their Fathers.—Prov. xvil., 6. 
An old man sat in the sunset gold, 
By the door of a cottage low ; 
His soft white hair, his reverent air, 
His holy smile — all told 
His work was finished below. 
Children played at the old man’s feet, 
Three gentle, blue-eyed girls ; 
Their mother had played in the cottage shade, 
With foot steps light and fleet, 
And waving, golden curls. 
His heart was warm towards that little hand, 
Bright in the setting sun ; 
And he said, “ Oh, Lord, I trust thy word, 
I see the promised land, 
And I know that my work is done. 
“ I thank thee for the pleasant ways, 
In which my feet have trod ; 
I bless for all both great and small, 
But most for these I praise 
Thy goodness, oh, my God 1” 
Then a matron stepped from the cottage door, 
A lady fair to see ; 
Her hand she laid on the old man’s head ; 
“Father, I thank God o’er and o’er, 
But ble33 Him most for thee 1 ” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
COMMON SCHOOLS OF ROCHESTER 
Wk have before us the twelth Annual Re¬ 
port of the Superintendent of Public Schools 
in this city, R. D. Jones, Esq., which has 
just been issued from the press of the Ameri¬ 
can. The pamphlet, in addition to the Su¬ 
perintendent’s Report, and ample statistical 
tables, (from which we propose to draw here¬ 
after,) contains several reports of Standing 
Committees, and brief summaries from several 
of the Principals of the schools. 
Among other interesting tables, we find the 
statistics of a new school house just finished 
in District No. 3, of which the above cuts are 
an illustration. The school architecture of 
the city is improving as rapidly as other 
things, and the old, sometimes dilapidated, 
always too small houses, are giving way to 
new, costly, and elegant structures, fitted up 
in the most approved and perfect style, and of 
dimensions sufficient at least for the present 
demands of the several sections of the city 
where each is located. There are a number 
more of the old houses that ought to come 
down, and will do so as soon as circumstances 
permit; and there is one district in a com¬ 
paratively sparse and newly-settled locality 
altogether unprovided for, except so far as the 
temporary renting of rooms makes such pro¬ 
vision. The law limits our Board of Educa¬ 
tion to the annual expenditure of $7,000 on 
school houses and school sites, and of course 
if the increase of population continues, as it 
has done for several jears past, the ability of 
this fund to furnish accommodations, the 
cause of education must suffer therefrom. But 
all things considered, the schools of this city 
stand deservedly high, and are doing an amount 
of good that cannot be estimated. 
Another drawback, Ls the want of a free 
academy, where a degree of education, at least 
sufficient to fit our youth for college, can be 
obtained without resort to private institutions; 
and we should then have, in connection with 
the University located here, a perfect system 
embracing all grades, from the primary school 
to the highest educational institution. 
PLAN OF FIRST FLOOR. 
School house No. 3, spoken of above, is 
located on Clay street, in the south-western 
section of the city. It is two stories high, 
built of brick, and surmounted by a belfry, 
and contains all the appurtenances needed in 
a first-class school-house, including a perfect 
system of ventilation, hot air furnaces, &c., 
and the whole property cost the city the sum 
of eight thousand five hundred dollars. 
The first floor is appropriated to the use of 
the Primary and Intermediate departments, 
and the second floor to the Senior department, 
two recitation rooms, and the library. The 
Senior room contains 110 desks, seating two 
pupils each, and the entrances aud doors to 
the recital ion room3 are arranged so as to 
permit the ingress and egress of pupils without 
iuconvenieuce or confusion. Altogether, this 
house is one of the most perfect in its ap¬ 
pointments of any we have ever seen, and will 
answer for a model to any and every city or 
village which desires to erect an edifice of 
similar cost and character. The following 
explains the diagrams. 
First Floor. — B, Intermediate Rooms, 
28)4 by 25 feet; C, Primary Rooms, 28)4 
PLAN OF SECOND FLOOR. 
by 33 feet; D, Recitation Room, 19)4 by 15 
feet; E, Halls, 15 by 14 feet; F, Wardrobes, 
15 by 4 feet; G, Teachers’ Desks ; H, Furnace 
Register ; V, Ventilating Registers. 
Second Floor.— A, Senior Room, 50 by 
58 feet; L, Library and Teachers’ Room, 
19)4 by 15 feet; D, Recitation Rooms, 28)4 
by 15 feet; E, Halls, 15 by 14 feet; F, 
Wardrobes, 15 by 4 feet; G, Teacher's Desk; 
H, Furnace Register. 
The size of the building on the ground is 
84 feet 8 in. by 60 feet 8 in. The building is 
heated by two of Chilsons Furnaces. 
Hull's Cflim 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 29 letters. 
My 8, 4, 29, 11 is the Emperor of Russia. 
My 14, 2, 18 is a certain number of inches. 
My 3, 6, 17, 20 is a kind of bird. 
My 7, 27. 23, 13, 19, 2, 18 is the name of a 
boy. 
My 20, 26, 16, 12, 28, 18, 15 is a planet. 
My 25, 21, 10, 8, 23 is much worn by men. 
My 1, 6, 23, 12 is one of the four cardinal 
points. 
My 22, 24, 18, 14 is an instrument much 
used. 
My whole is a very ancient writing. 
Seneca, N. Y. o. B. y. 
Answer next week. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
PUZZLE. 
How can the nine digits be put together so 
as to make 100 ? a. u. 
glP Answer next week. 
THE BOY AND THE SKATES. 
A little boy, some eight or nine years of 
age, wanted his father to buy him a pair of 
skates, stating that such and such boys among 
his playmates had them. His father told him 
he was too small, and too little acquainted 
with the ice to venture upon it. He urged his 
father, but was denied ; and he felt extremely 
mortified when he saw his playmates going to 
the pond with their skates, while he had to 
stay at home. That winter passed, and the 
next came, and the boy urged his father again 
for the skates. On Christmas the father took 
the boy to the village, and they went into a 
store where were kept skates and other fine 
things for presents. The little boy reached 
upon the counter, and picked out a pair of 
skates that would suit him, and wished the 
father to buy them. His father stood some 
time considering, and then said, “ No, my 
son, it is not best for you that you should 
have them.” The little boy felt very sorrow¬ 
ful, but knowing that his father would not 
have refused his request without sufficient rea¬ 
son, he returned home without a murmur. 
In the afternoon of the same day, the father 
came in, and inquired for his sou, and told 
him hi prepare himself fora walk. They took 
the direction of a pond, where his playmates 
haii gone that day to enjoy themselves with 
their skates. At a house near the pond they 
saw a great manv people collected in little 
groups His father led the hoy into the house, 
1 and through the crowd that had collected 
there, to a room, where on the floor lay three 
rolls of woolen blankets. 
Without a word being spoken, the father 
unrolled one of the blankets, and there the 
child saw one of his playmates, who went out 
that morning with his skates, cold in death. 
Another was unrolb d, and then the third, and 
the son discovered two other familiar faces of 
about his own age. “ Now my son,” said the 
father, “you can understand the reason why 
I did not wish t» buy you the skates this 
morning. I could not then make you under¬ 
stand my reason, but now you see what I 
feared.” It is that little son who now, with 
gratitude to God, tells you this story; forbad 
j that little boy's will , instead of his father’s, been 
I complied with, it is not at all probable that he 
would have been alive to-day. 
When you repeat the Lord’s prayer, and 
say, “ i hy will be done,” ask yourselves if 
you ever desire to set up your will against 
1 that of your heavenly Father, or of your own 
dear parents.— Child’s Paper. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, ic- IN No. 2T8. 
Answer to Geographical Enigma in No. 278. 
—General Francis Marion. • 
Answer to Arithmetical Question in No. 278. 
—He decided that one of the Arabs should have seven 
pieces and the other but one piece. 
Tub pencil brings sweat flowers to view, 
Would it could paint their fragrance too 1 
THE DEATH-BED. 
How many conflicting emotions fill the 
mind while standing beside the death-bed of a 
friend. We gaze upon the form that we have 
loved, perhaps, too fondly—we see the strong 
arm palsied—the bright eye grow dim ; and 
hear our name pronounced for the last time by 
those loved lips. How unbidden do the scald¬ 
ing tears course down our cheeks, as we gaze 
upon that emaciated form wasted away by a 
cankering disease that hath eaten into the vi¬ 
tals ; and now the icy finger of death is freez¬ 
ing the blood, that once leaped so buoyant 
through the veins. Wc see the last fond look 
turned upon us, when those mute lips refuse 
to do their office ; watch the labored breath¬ 
ing while the throbbing pulse grows still ; and 
silently the spirit wdDgs its flight. Oh ! why 
this burst of agony—why is it that even the 
thought of death sends such a shudder through 
our frame ? Has not our friend “ gone 
home?” No more can the cares and turmoil 
of life disturb his repose. Calmly he sleeps. 
Soon will the green grass wave over his bed. 
The spring will come, the flowers blossom, the 
harvest ripen, and the autumn leaves fall in 
their wonted round, but not for him. No! 
perennial fllowers are blooming for him, an¬ 
gelic harps are strung ; and the harvest is per¬ 
petual in the Spirit’s Home. 
But yet as we turn again for one more look 
of those marble features, the tears flow forth 
afresh. How many memories of the past 
come thronging back ! We look through the 
dim vista of years, and see every deed, word, 
and look recorded upon the tablet of memory. 
We recall the hours of social converse ; and 
perhaps the sports of our happy childhood.— 
No more, alas! no more! Oh! could that 
face smile on us once again! We strain our 
ears as if the lips had moved to speak. The 
voice is hushed! The watch-fire has gone out. 
There is a silence and a gloom throughout the 
house—noiseless the inmates move about — a 
weight is on the heart. Mechanically we pace 
the room. There sits the arm-chair vacant, 
the slippers by its side. 
Oh! why is it, that we do not, can not fully 
prize our daily blessings until they are irre¬ 
trievably lost. We sit down amid a luxuri¬ 
ous plenty, with friends smiling around us— 
Father, Mother, Brothers, Sisters; and per¬ 
haps a chosen companion and little ones; with¬ 
out realizing the blessiDg ; or dreaming that 
the happy circle can be broken, until the fatal 
blow has been given. Why is that we are 
ever prone to put far from us the thought of 
own dissolution. This world (although we 
may be happy in it if we will,) is surely not 
our abiding place. It is but for the prepara¬ 
tion—the expanding of intellectual capacity 
that we may the more fully enjoy the blessings 
of another. 
And it is well, perhaps, for the human heart 
to be inured to sorrow, The fiery ordeal re¬ 
fines, purifies, and humbles. We learn by en¬ 
during ourselves, to sympathise with others in 
misfortune. Our friends who have gone be¬ 
fore us, should be so many incentives to urge 
us onward and upward. B. A. Me N. 
The Tower qf Repentance. —On the top 
of a small but conspicuous hill, near to 
Hoddon Castle, on the banks of the river An¬ 
nan, in Scotland, is a square tower, built of 
hewn stone, over the door of which are carved 
the figures of a dove and serpent, and between 
them the word “ Repeutance.” Hence the 
building, though its proper name isTrailtrow, 
is more frequently called the Tower of Repent¬ 
ance. It is said that Sir Richard Steele, while 
riding near this place, saw a shepherd boy 
reading his Bible, and asked him what he 
learned from it. “ The way to Heaven,” an¬ 
swered the boy. “And can you show it to 
me?” said Sir Richard, in banter, “You 
must go by that tower,” replied the shepherd, 
aud he pointed to the Tower of Repentance. 
Afflictions are God’s whetstones — they 
put a new edge upon old principles. 
