BBS 
■Tin' 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW- YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
“ There, I never did gee such a—you good 
for nothing hateful boy; I believe you are the 
greate.st. plague—” 
“ Take care, take care, madam; what has the 
little fellow done? take care not to dispropor¬ 
tion the reproof of the offence !” 
“ Done?- why he has done nothing but tor¬ 
ment me all day. He waked me up with his 
noise before daylight, and what with his jump¬ 
ings, and screainings, and scratching^, there 
was no peace till he-was up and dressed. And 
then I couldn’t enjoy my breakfast in peace 
because his mouth must be kept full, or there 
was a sad noise for an aching head; and then, 
since breakfast, he has been doing nothing else 
but tottle round in all conceivable mischief.— 
He has overset my work basket, and tangled 
my skeins, and unwound my spools, and lost my 
needles, and'dropped my scissors down the reg¬ 
ister, and thrown my thimble out of the win¬ 
dow, and tipped over nearly all of the chairs, 
and tort) every book he could lay hold of, and 
—there, I don’t mean to bo cross with my 
baby, but I do believe he’s the uneasiest child 
that ever did live, and—and 1 know 1 never 
was made to be a mother, and have the care 
of children. I haven’t any tact or patience 
equal to it. I don’t know how these pattern 
mothers do it. but 1 can’t.” 
That *as the colloquy of our overhearing 
that took place the other day in the presence 
of a great fat-faced, hearty restless-looking lit¬ 
tle fellow, who had provoked the same by his 
locomotive and upsetfive tendencies. 
Door mother, thought we, you haven’t learn¬ 
ed the genuine secret of managing children 
yet. A our little boy must be active every mo¬ 
ment. If lie did not perpetually do something 
to exercise those littie muscles, and develop 
that healthy frame, he would die. Don’t scold 
at him, and try to keep him still, but avoid the 
inconvenience which arises from his misplaced 
activity, by keeping him active in the right 
place. The great recipe that never fails for 
taking care of children pleasantly comprises 
kindness in the voice, patience in the heart, 
and ingenuity in the intellect to contrive meth¬ 
ods of pejpetual activity. If you put your 
child into a room full of of ordinary matters, 
and do not give him an abundant supply of 
matters which are his, you need no more mar¬ 
vel that he should be mischievously busy in 
touching what he ought not, than that he 
should eat what he ought not when he is star¬ 
ving and you put him where he can get hold 
of only improper viands. 
Children have vast imaginations. It’s as¬ 
tonishing how easy a dilapidated broomstick 
becomes a horse, and any little bunch of rags 
a doll, and how much comfort can be taken 
by the little folk from a full supply of play¬ 
things, of very humble mechanical or artistic 
pretensions. But something children must 
have. If they cannot till their hands honest¬ 
ly, if there is not a plcntitude of “traps” 
which are distinctly theirs, they will, as a mat¬ 
ter of course, foray among the miscellanies of 
their adult relatives and friends; and scissors 
and thimbles, and spools and books will suffei 
accordingly. 
Mothers must not be too much distressed 
at having the nursery floor “littered up.”— 
Better keep a cart-load of playthings in gen¬ 
eral circulation over the carpet, than to be un¬ 
der the necessity of getting bad-tempered and 
showing it to the short boys and girls with long 
memories. 
We know a boy who was made permanently 
crusty by his mother’s insane horror of any¬ 
thing loose about the room. Nature would 
have its way, and as the little fellow could not 
satisfy nature in the ordinary methods, he took 
to contrivances which were stigmatized as tin- 
accountable und intolerably mischievous, and 
was scolded accordingly, until the sweet milk 
of his disposition gradually curdled under the 
influence of a chronic thunder-storm of ful- 
monated exhortations to “keep things to 
rights.” Things were kept so ferociously “to 
rights” that the thing of most import, the lit¬ 
tle immortal mind, was shaped irresistably to 
wrong. 
Plenty of patience and plenty of playthings 
is, after all, the great motto for the nursery. 
SCHOOL COY PROMISE 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorkor.] 
PASSING AWAY! 
“The fashion of this world pnssclh away'' 
Tins beautiful earth is all radiant with light- 
necked in Spring’s brightest garb it gladdens our sight ; 
The flower-clad hill-aide, the sparkling rill— 
The mild breath of evening so quiet and still— 
The genial sunlight, the rainbow-lmod shower 
Tn beauty descends on Reid, tree and flower ; 
Yet not long the fair scene around us may plajq 
Earth's beauty and fashion soon passes away. 
Do bright skies beam o’er thee in life's Joyous Spring ? 
Both thy free spirit soar on fancy’s gay wing ? 
Doth Friendship around thee her pure light throw, 
And love fondly whisper in cadences low ? 
Are the world's wealth and honors upon theo bestowed 
And its smiles lavished freely on life’s sunny road ? 
Nay trust not in these—short, short is their stay, 
The fashion of this world soon passes away. 
Or perchance clouds and tempests thy pathway may shroud 
And the deep waves of sorrow heat fierculy anti loud, 
Thy life’s early friends may pass as the dew, 
Rending sweet ties of youth no years may renew; 
The hearts dearest memories may rest with the dead— 
O’er hopes crushed and vain the soul's tears be shed. 
But not long mav e’en grief o'er thy spirit hold sway— 
The fashion of this world soon passes away. 
Change, change is recorded on all things below 
The cloud and the sunshine, the lofty and low; 
The brightest and fairest soon fade from our sight, 
And morning beams follow the dreariest night; 
The bright dreams of youth mul glad hopes of tho heart 
Enchant for a moment, then quickly depart : 
Life itself is a vapor in the sunbeam’s bright ray, 
“It appeareth a moment then passeth away.” 
There is a bright world where change never comes, 
Where the weary and careworn no longer may roam 
Where beauty and bliss never more shall depart, 
Nor sorrow and anguish press sore on the heart. 
While shrouded in gloom, on time’s changeful shoro, 
Where cold storms and tempests around us may pour, 
Tho light of that world shall alone be our stay— 
Heaven's glory and brightness that pass not away. 
Sparta, N. Y., 1854. Amanda. 
Theodore S. Fay, in narrating liis early 
adventures in the capacity of pedagogue, gives 
the following as his experience of youthful in¬ 
dications of future greatness: 
Thirty years ago I was penniless and with¬ 
out a friend. I had engaged unsuccessfully in 
two or three forlorn speculations, in the course 
of which I wandered about the State with a 
reckless independence, sometimes mourning 
over the past, and sometimes anticipating the 
black and gloomy future. At length my funds 
and every invention to increase them were ex¬ 
hausted, and shunning all society, I spent a 
week in devising plans by which I was to be 
rescued from my embarrassments. I wrote to 
a friend, who was the proprietor of an acade¬ 
my of some renown, and offered my services 
as an assistant. They were kindly accepted. 
His answer enclosed advance money to a con¬ 
siderable amount; and in a few days, as I were 
but the image of some changing dream, I 
found myself away from the wide green hills 
and shadowy wood of the country, pent up in 
a small room with a class of boys whom 1 was 
to initiate into the mysteries of geography and 
astronomy. 
The first lad was a dull, singular-looking be¬ 
ing, of the most unpromising exterior. Judg¬ 
ing from appearances, the probability of teach¬ 
ing his “ young idea how to shoot,” seemed a 
matter of considerable doubt. I strove sev¬ 
eral times for a glimpse of intelligence in his 
mind in vain. It was like the labor of the 
Brazilian slave, digging in the sand for dia¬ 
monds. 
“ Where is Asia ?” asked I. 
He reddened, put out his under lip, cast 
down his eyes, and at length found words to 
say, 
“ On the map, sir.” 
“Point to its real situation.” 
He stuck out his clumsy hand like the 
forepaw of a dancing bear, and pointed in 
a direction about twenty degrees above the 
horizon. 
“ What causes the day ?” 
“ The sun, sir.” 
“ What causes the night ?” 
“The moon, sir.” 
I was quite satisfied as to the extent of his 
abilities, and passed on. 
The next was a clear complexioned, noble 
looking fellow, with large dark eyes and glossy 
hair, curled about his high temples; his full 
lip was red like a girl’s, and his voice sweet as 
music. He had a correct knowledge of what 
he had gone over, and a facility in learning 
whatever was placed before him. The few 
simple interrogations which I put to him were 
easily replied to, till at length he missed sever¬ 
al in succession. Then came a shadow over 
his morning face, and the tears stole up softly 
into his eyes, and hung upon their long lashes 
trembling. I could not but wonder to myself 
if he had a sister or a cousin who resembled 
him; but what was that to me ? 
STONE-WARE MAKING.-THE PUG MILES. 
MANUFACTURE OF TOTTERY 
jugs, .pots, pans, jars, bottles, or the thousand 
other articles so necessary in household econo¬ 
my. The assistant then beats these balls of 
clay upon a form in the manner represented 
in the second cut, until thoroughly incorpora¬ 
ted, and the enclosed air driven off. 
It is not necessary to explain minutely a 
potter’s wheel. Every school-boy has seen 
one, or if he have so little curiosity as to have 
passed unheeded by, any description by us 
will be passed by also. The cut illustrates it; 
an upright shaft in a frame, the upper end of 
which shaft is terminated by a disk on which 
the lump of clay is stuck. The turner then 
commences revolving the wheel by means of 
his foot, while with his hand he expands the 
plastic material into any desirable form. It is a 
simple but beautiful process, and the writer 
when a boy has sat for hours within the low 
shed of a Brown Earthen Ware manufacturer 
watching the skillful manipulations of the man 
at the wheel. 
[Continued from Page 314.] 
Two weeks ago we gave an illustration of 
the first grinding process to which the clay 
was subjected in the manufacture of Stone 
Ware. After that operation, the material is 
passed through a second mill as represented in 
the first of the accompanying figures. The 
mill consists of an upright shaft inside a tub, 
the concave surface of which is set with knives 
extending nearly to the centre, and placed 
spirally like the thread of a screw. Knives al¬ 
so radiate from the shaft in such a manner, as 
to cross the former like the blades of a pair of 
shears. By revolving the shaft the clay is cut 
and mixed in the machine, gradually passing 
downward until it finally falls out at the bot¬ 
tom of the mill. 
The clay is then ready for the turner, who 
breaks it up into balls of the proper size for any 
particular article of ware he desires to make; 
“Take care of the pence, and the pounds 
will take care of themselves,” is the secret of 
growing rich. And in the time-currency, mo¬ 
ments are the gold-filings—the precious atoms 
that., saved or lost, make or unmake a life.— 
No man can afford to lose his minutes. The 
miracles of success that have been wrought in 
the lives of certain men have been achieved 
, through economy of time, as close as Thomas 
Elwes’s economy of farthings. Elihu Burritt, 
the learned blacksmith, once said that he hail 
acquired some knowledge of fifty languages 
during the intervals of his labors at the anvil! 
He treasured his minutes, as his only earthly 
“ fortune.” Dr. Mason Hood, the learned En¬ 
glish author, composed his translation of a 
Latin book in the streets of London during 
his extensive walks and rides to visit Lis nu¬ 
merous patients. His practice was to take in 
his pockets two or three leaves of the original. 
He read this passage over as he walked along 
until he had engraved it on his retentive mem¬ 
ory. Then he translated the passage in his 
mind, corrected it, and when he reached home 
committed the translation to paper. He thus 
finished the work without omitting a single 
professional visit! Richard Baxter, who wrote 
more discourses and books, and visited more 
frequently his parishioners than any clergvmae 
of that century, (thereby affording a rebukn 
and an example to many ministers of our day.e 
was a miser of minutes. His good exampl) 
was contagious among his Hock, lie taught 
the Kidderminster weavers to fasten religious 
books on their looms, and study their contents 
while they were throwing the shuttle. 
He that loses his minutes, loses his life—too 
often loses his soul. For we never have any 
thing but the present moment. The past is 
gone—the future is not ours. And the sea 
captain who should sit and heave out his car¬ 
go by the single package would come into port 
at last with about the same character for sa¬ 
gacity as the spendthrift of time comes to the 
death-bed that ends his life-voyage. It is a 
total loss and no insurance. 
It would be both curious and sad for us to 
east up a strict inventory of our wasted mo¬ 
ments in a single day. 'The time lost in the 
morning in debating with ourselves whether 
we shall get up or not—(instead of following 
the example of systematic John Wesley, 
who, when he was tempted to loiter in bed, 
was overheard to call out, “Well, John 
Wesley! you may do as you like, bat I 
mean to get up”)—the time lost in indecision 
as to the day’s work, in making long talks, or 
long visits when shorter ones would achieve 
more, in idle reveries, in trifling awhile between 
each separate engagement—the aggregate of 
each day’s loss from such causes would be 
startling. Added together, they might occupy 
longer time than it took Milton to write the 
Paradise Lost, or Bunyan to write the Pil¬ 
grim’s Progress; longer time than Fulton was 
occupied in constructing his steamboat or 
Gallileo in making his telescope, or Newton in 
toiling out his immortal “ Principia.” 
Reader! make a close calculation of a single 
day’s losses and you will be frightened. And 
let me hint to you, too, that you will work a 
great saving in your pastor’s precious time by 
avoiding needless calls upon him in his study- 
hours, (which ought to be in the morning,) and 
by not keeping him waiting when he calls upon 
you. “ Be short,” is as good a motto for the 
parish as it is for the pulpit .—Christian In¬ 
telligencer. 
So I went 
on. 
The next had nothing to distinguish him 
from boys in general, llis countenance was 
one of those common faces which we never no¬ 
tice. He had pins stuck in the sleeve of his 
coat, and twine hanging out of the corners of 
his pocket; his stockings hanging and slipped 
down over his shoes, and the strings trailed 
along the floor. He fidgetted with his button¬ 
hole, and put his foot in his lap, and at length 
got one of his companions laughing at some¬ 
thing he had in his hand. I called him to me 
and he thrust it into his pocket, which stuck 
out from his body as if it contained the whole 
amount of his personal estate. 1 desired him 
to empty it upon the desk, and forth came a 
medley of school-boy treasures; isinglass, slate- 
pencils, a ball, chewed India rubber, paper 
boats, a top, and among the rest, a fly-box, 
containing a most unfortunate prisoner, who, 
without judge or jury, had been summarily 
condemned^—his wings stripped from his back, 
and hanged by a hair rope on an appropriate 
pine-wood gallows, which my friend had man- 
ufactured for the occasion. 
The other was an awkward, lubberly, over¬ 
grown creature, with a pair of green eyes, that 
looked like a cat’s. His hair stuck up straight 
on every side like a eoat brush; he had a huge 
nose that.occupied a third of his lace, and he 
spoke with a cracked voice that had as little 
jnqlody in it as the filing of a saw. He sat 
upon the bench with as little animation, as if 
he had been made out of putty; and though 
he did not answer any question, yet he exhibit¬ 
ed no other sigh of grief than might have been 
detected in a yawn that opened a mouth of 
most appalling dimensions. 
Now, mgrk .the caprices of fortune. Thirty 
years have gone with the wind. I have taken 
an interest in watching the progress of;,my 
little class. The last .mentioned grew up into 
a poet. He has written sQine of the most de¬ 
lightful stanzas I ever read. 'They breathe a 
soul of the highest nature, and a heart' stored 
with all that ennobles and sweetens life. .The 
dunce whom I first examined, at this instant, 
holds an office in the service of the ’United 
States, where his knowledge of human nature, 
and his powerful talents, have made liis name 
familial to every bar, his-praises will be to: 
future generations. He in whom I found no¬ 
thing to distinguish him from common boys 
STONE-WARE MAKING. THE POTTERS WHEEL 
dergoes the process of being cleared from peb¬ 
bles und dirt by means of sieves. Those who 
do this tedious work of garbing, though expert 
I in their calling, earn but the value of five or 
; six cents daily, a portion of which earnings it 
paid to one of their number who acts as their 
overseer, and to whom the purchaser muss 
complain if he has any fault to find. An ac¬ 
tive man may garble two or three bales in a 
day, and a smart woman half as much. Hav¬ 
ing been cleaned, the coffee is packed in bags 
for .exportation, and if good should be free 
from white and black kernels, and have an aro¬ 
matic smell. 
But few Arabs, and those the wealthier 
classes, indulge as a general habit in the luxu¬ 
ry of coffee. It has often been disputed wheth¬ 
er coffee does not come under the prohibition 
of the Koran, which forbids the use of strong 
and inebriating liquor, as it is a well-known 
fact that the fumes of coffee have some effect 
on the imagination. Its use is, however, gen¬ 
erally tolerated, and many Arabs say “a dish 
of coffee and a pipe of tobacco are a complele 
entertainment.” They drink it without either 
milk or sugar, after it has been pounded tine in 
a mortar and then steeped. All classes use a 
very palatable beverage made from the koke, 
or coffee shell, which goes by the name of 
kawlia. It can be obtained at any of the nu¬ 
merous and much frequented coffee shops, 
where 
“ Well seasoned bowls the gossip's spirits raise,” 
for half a cent a quart .—Notes on Majung 
1 and Zanzibar. 
Many fathers and mothers can readily recall 
to mind the time when they studied geography 
without the aid of a map to give an idea of 
the shape of the different countries on the 
earth, the relative position of places, direction 
of rivers, extent and form of lakes, or the man¬ 
ner of distribution of land and water on the 
surface of the earth. Tell your child that 
Connecticut River rises in the Connecticut 
Lake in New Hampshire, runs southerly and 
empties into Long Island Sound, what idea 
would be conveyed to his mind, and how long 
would he remember your description without 
the help of the eye to aid him in conceiving of 
the position of that lake in the northern part 
of the State; in giving him a correct idea of 
the shape and extent of the State itself, and 
the situation of Long Island Sound? But it 
needs little argument to prove the utility of 
maps in the study of geography. And yet 
maps themselves are liable to convey wrong 
impressions sometimes. A pupil with a map 
of the world spread before him, representing 
within two circles the two hemispheres, was 
1 titled by his teacher what the eart h most re¬ 
sembled, : expecting of course the common 
answer, a : globe or ball; the lad, supposing the 
map gqye a fair representation, answered Very 
readily?' “a 'pair of spectacles;' valuable, 
therefore, as the map is, the necessity of a 
.globe to .convey,a more correct conception is 
obvious. With ilie globe a multitude of in- 
tercsting facts can. be made perfectly clear to 
the ‘mind of the' pupil, which it is impossible 
to convey without it.— Com. School Journal. 
yellowish color. JIow perceptibly such a com¬ 
post may affect the tasie of the coffee would 
doubtless be a matter of inquiry with the tidy, 
cow-loving Hindu house-wile, who uses a so¬ 
lution of it to purify her parlors, ornament her 
walls and doorways, and for numerous other 
purposes. 
Large quantities of coffee arrive at Mocha, 
from March to the latter part of July, from the 
coffee districts within twenty days journey.— 
Camels are employed in its transportation, each 
of which carries about six hundred pounds, 
contained in two sacks. They are driven in 
long trains of fifty or u ore, arranged one be¬ 
hind another, the head of each being tied to 
the tail of the camel immediately before him. 
When thus arranged, but lew drivers are ne¬ 
cessary. 
All coffee from the country is first taken to 
the custom house, a large building one hun¬ 
dred and fifty feet square, near the sea gate, 
where it is stored to be inspected by the gov¬ 
ernor, who visits the custom house daily.— 
Here, also, the duties are fixed, at the rate of 
seven per cent, on English, and three per cent, 
on American imports. A double duly is im¬ 
posed on smuggled goods. From the custom 
house the coffee is taken to the gow-downs, or 
warehouses of the merchants, several of which 
are attached to the walls of the custom house 
and rented by the government. There it uu- 
Sizes of Shoes. —The Lynn Directory for 
1851 says a size is the length of one “barley 
corn,” or one-third of an inch. A size slick 
is thus formed: 'Take a rule or piece of pine 
wood thirteen inches in length, and divide it 
into thirty-nine equal parts of one-third of an 
inch each. 'The first thirteen are left blank, 
and counted nothing. The second thirteen 
are called children’s sizes. 'The third thirteen 
are called men’s and women's sizes; each mark¬ 
ed from one to thirteen. Thus nine inches is 
a man’s size, No. 1; ten inches is No. 4; eleven 
inches No. 7; twelve inches No. 10. 
Goon Humor. —Let us cherish good humor 
and Christian cheerfulness. Let us endeavor 
to shake off - the sullenness which makes us so 
uneasy to ourselves, and to all who are near. 
Pythagoras quelled the perturbations of his 
mind by the use of his harp; and David’s mu¬ 
sic calmed the destructions of Saul, and ban¬ 
ished the evil spirit from him. Anger, fretful¬ 
ness, and peevishness, prey upon the tender 
fibres of our frame, and injure our health. 
According to,the latest returns; the average 
of the salaries of elementary schoolmasters in 
Groat Britain does not exceed $250 or $300 a 
year. The London Critic asks,: “ Can we won¬ 
der that men of mind and -integrity do not pre¬ 
fer vegetating on suehu pittance?” 
He that is of a teachable temper, will sub¬ 
mit to the rules of the Gospel in their plain 
obvious sense; and he that will not do so, will 
run into endless errors, even as much as if the 
Gospel had never been preached. 
The twenty-six letters of the Alphabet and 
"the nine digits, altogether form a key by 
which the infinite, treasure boose of science 
is thrown open to the free entrance of every 
sou aaad daughter of Adam. 
.ilenid u illcw non vlqo A i 
