Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE EDUCATED FARMER 
KNOW I. KDGH VERSUS MUSCLE. 
People who urge uj>on farmers the advan¬ 
tages of education, gem-rally confine their argu¬ 
ment to showing how knowledge and skill will 
produce food more abundantly, and at less cost— 
how the soil may he “manured by brains,” or 
how ingenious appliances may make labor more 
effective. But this, though very true, is a very 
restricted and partial view of the subject. A 
farmer should be, in an enlarged sense, a man; 
and as such, an inllueiitial and controlling mem¬ 
ber of that vast community which agriculture, 
mainly, feeds ancUclothes. All civilized people 
are divided into two great divisions—the pro¬ 
ducing and non-producing classes. Farmers, 
fishermen, miners, &c, form the first class,— 
merchants, manufacturers, sailors, artists, phy¬ 
sicians, lawyers, divines, «fcc M &e., the second. 
Now, it is a very important fact, important be¬ 
cause “ knowledge is power,” and also import¬ 
ant because “loving one’s neighbor as one’s 
self” is the rarest of virtues,— a very important 
fact, that while the first class has been deficient 
in knowledge and lias abounded in muscle, the 
second class has abounded in knowledge, and is 
constantly growing more and more averse to 
muscular exertion. Hence, again, because 
“knowledge is power,” the farmers’ servants, 
whom he feeds and clothes, have become his 
masters. The farmer says to the manufacturer, 
I have not time to work up the wool which I 
have grown, into cloth; you do it, and I will 
raise food for you meanwhile. So the manufac¬ 
turer employs an agent to collect and warehouse 
the wool, various other agents to transport it, 
other agents to receive it in eastern marts, and 
others again to sell und buy it and transport it to 
the manufacturer. The manufacturer now sorts 
it, and working up the coarsest of it for the 
farmer, he distributes the rest of it among the 
farmers’ servants, the merchant, artist, lawyer, 
&c., who while wearing the finest of broadcloth, 
say disdain fully, “ I would not be a farmer." If 
they are asked why, —“oh, because the business 
is so dirty 1” Now, why lias it become neces¬ 
sary to transport all the western wool to the 
seaboard, by means of a multitude of agents, 
and, by means of another multitude, re-transport 
the needed cloth back to the west? Simply be¬ 
cause au accumulation of capital, originally 
drawn from agriculture, has centered with con¬ 
trolling and highly intelligent power in eastern 
marts and manufacturing districts. Some cities 
are so situated, especially since the advent of 
railroads, that the producer of food and its con¬ 
sumer are never, or very rarely, brought faye to 
face, but the distribution is effected by middle¬ 
men who often realize large compensation for 
their services, amounting in the more luxurious 
articles consumed bv the wealthy, to 25, 50, and 
even 100 per cent, profit. Some of these mid¬ 
dlemen. by long practice, become expert in 
tricks and artifices, which, when revealed, 
astonish both producer and consumer. 
It is a very prevalent opinion with farmers 
that the larger the non-producing class becomes 
the greater will lie the demand for farm pro¬ 
duce, and the higher will he its price. This 
opinion is confirmed by many facts, one of which 
is that a western agricult ural district cut. off from 
connection with the seaboard languishes, and 
springs into immediate prosperity us soon as such 
a connection is formed. Yet if the position Is true 
that agriculture is mainly the source of wealth, 
then, 1 think, it follows, that a non-producing 
class, beyond what is necessary for proper man¬ 
ufacture and distribution, is a leech sucking the 
blood, and fattening upon the farmer. A firm, 
in one of our magic western cities, is reported to 
have accummulated, the past year, twenty 
thousand dollars, shaving notes. This money 
doubtless gave impulse to much action around 
them. Yet the said firm produced nothing, 
added nothing to the true wealth of the country. 
Who can doubt that a capital abstracted from 
the earnings of the producing classes maintained 
that tinn and all its belongings. Further, I ap¬ 
prehend that the inhabitants of the agricultural 
region just adverted to, cutoff as they were from 
even a just and proper connection with com¬ 
merce and manufactures, had an average of “life, 
liberty and the pursuit of happiness” greater 
than the avtrayi• in large cities, when, some¬ 
times ton, twenty, thirty or more families occupy 
oue house from cellar to attic, clothed in rags, 
feeding on refuse and lying on bunches of straw. 
Of the agricultural region I speak from experi¬ 
ence, having lived in such, uuder both of the 
developments referred to. 
In times past the non-producing class made 
and administered our laws, administered our 
Government, and represented our Government 
abroad, guided those measures which led to 
peace or war, controlled our railroads, ami gen¬ 
erally held In their hands the reins which ruled 
the course of our temporal destiny. Meanwhile 
the farmer, as a rule, worked, ate and slept, did 
not bother his brains about science, or any use¬ 
less learning, and wondered how geometry or 
philosophy could help him to hoe corn, or how 
history could light his path from the house to 
the bam, or how political economy could enable 
him to make hay when the sun shone. I have 
attended a very creditably conducted agricultu¬ 
ral tair, where a superintendent of public schools 
was the orator, his attenuated ringers holding a 
manuscript, and his weak voice not reaching 
five rods from his stand, and one where a 
lawyer attempted to give voice to tho enthusiasm 
ot the occasion. Can not farmers learn to do 
their Own writing and speaking? 
Justice can not be done to my subject w ithin 
e limits ot a brief essay. I ask farmers to 
remember that they hold in their hands the 
source.^ °f wealth, and that “knowledge is 
l )0 " er ' Peter Hathaway. 
Milan, Erie Co., O., IStsl. 
Allegretto. 
THE PILGRIM FATHERS 
1. The pil - grim fa - thers, where are they? The waves that brought them o’er Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray As they break a - long the shore; 
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~. The mists that wrapped the pilgrim’s sleep, Still brood upon the tide-. And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its waves of pride 
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3. The pil - grim ex - ile saint - ed name! The hill, whose i - cy brow Re - joiced when he came, in the mor - ning’s flame In the morning’s flame burns now' 
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r’ pi ! ~ gr ! m ^ a .’ t ^? rs are at rest : When Summer’s throned on high, And the world’s warm breast is in ver - dare dressed, Go, stand on the hill where they lie 
o. I he pil - grim spi - nt has not fled : It walks in noon’s broad light; And it watches the bed of the glo - rions dead, With the ho - ly stars by night. 
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Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day, Wnen the Mayflower moored be - low, When the sea a - round was black with storms, And white the shore with snow. 
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But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale When the heaven’s looked dark, is gene; As an angel’s wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then with - drawn. 
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And the moon’s cold light, as it lay that nignt, On the hill - side and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless head; But the pil - grim—where is he ? 
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The ear - best ray of the gol - den day On that hal - lowed spot is cast; And the evening sun, as he leaves the world, Looks kindly on that spot last, 
t watches the bed ot the brave who have bled, And shall guard this ice-bound shore, Tib the waves of the bay, where the Mayflower lay, Shall foam and freeze no more. 
-*<- 
A Short Parsing Lesson.—You will read 
the sentence, “David killed Goliah.” Wliat 
part of speech is Killed? •• A preposition, con¬ 
necting David and Goliah, and showing an 
unfriendly relation between them. Rule.— 
“ Prepositions connect words with one another 
and show a relation between them.” 
In what respect is this parsing incorrect?— 
Vermont School Journal. 
Schools in Ohio.— It appears by the late 
report of the School Commissioner of Ohio, 
that of the 14,661 schools taught in that State 
during the year 18G3, 14,233 were common 
schools, open to all. The whole number of 
scholars enrolled in the schools w as 750,413, of 
whom 7,220 were colored children—less than 
one in 100. 
(%L 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GAS VERSUS PAIN. 
Scarce a month passes in which there is not 
some additions made to the list of those who die 
from inhaling gas. in their effort to avoid pain. 
So frequent lme these fatalities become, that it 
is a grave question whether the life of any one 
is safe, really, who adopts this mode to alleviate 
or avoid temporary pain during surgical opera¬ 
tions. At least, it is proper tho public should 
bo educated to know what ri-k> they run when 
they place their lives in the hands of men who 
are as often irresponsible and ignorant, as other¬ 
wise. 
These remarks have been suggested by the 
announcement of the death of a Mr. Samuel 
Sears, of Massachusetts, while under the influ¬ 
ence, or from the effects, of laughing gas, ad¬ 
ministered for the purpose of extracting a tooth 
without pain. A post mortem examination was 
made by Dr. Gko. B. Bouton, of New York, 
who reports that ho found the. deceased was 
very consumptive — that one of his lungs was 
nearly gone, and the other considerably affected 
by disease. In bis testimony before the jury. 
Dr. 11. gave it as his opiuion that if deceased 
had beeu In ordinary health, he would not have 
been injuriously affected by the inhalation of 
the gas. 
Now, there are a great many people in the 
world who do not know whether they are 
healthy or not—who feel well, but who would 
be tound to be diseased upon medical examina¬ 
tion, 1 hey are not sate it they inhale laughing 
gas, perhaps; and yet not one in one hundred of 
tlicM) sapient administrators of this gas know 
enough to discriminate in Its administration. 
This laughing gas is being advertised exten¬ 
sively, as perfectly sale, and an insurance 
against pain; and many poor fool? have thus 
been induced to have their teeth token out, 
with a view to escape the draft. In some cities 
this has proved a profitable business to tho gas 
man! 
In the case above referred to, the jury ren¬ 
dered a verdict that the deceased came to his 
death from congestion of the lungs, indueed by 
(he administration of nitrous oxide gas, for the 
purpose of extracting a tooth. They exonerate 
the person who administered the gas from all 
criminal intent! And they urge that there 
should be an examination madefy competent 
persons, in all cases where it is contemplated to 
administer said gas. 
Who are the competent persons’ We submit 
to our readers that it is better to endure some 
pain—to “grin and bear it”—than to run such 
risk. We are induced to give this subject this 
prominence because it is our duty to keep our 
readers advised of whatever will benefit them, 
so far as we may be able; and because of the 
special effort beiiig made to substitute this 
laughing gas for chloroform. 
HOW TO THAW FROZEN FLESH. 
We commend to the attention of those of our 
readers liable to exposure, by their employment, 
what the New Y'ork Evening Post says under 
tho above head“ Frozen flesh should never 
be rubbed. The juices of the fleshy tissues, 
when frozen iu their minute sacs or sells, at once 
become in each of these inclosures, crystals, 
having a large number of angles aud sharp 
points; and hence rubbing the flesh causes them 
to cut or tear their way through the tissues so 
that when it is thawed the structure of the 
muscle is more or less destroyed. The proper 
mode of treatment is this:—When any part of 
the body is frozen it should be kept perfectly 
quiet till it is thawed out, which should be done 
as promptly as possibly. As fre* zing takes place 
from the surface inwardly, so thawing should be 
in the inverse, order, from the inside outwardly. 
The thawing out of a portion of flesh, without 
at the same time putting the blood from the 
heart into circulation through it, produces mor¬ 
tification: but by keeping the more external 
parts still congealed till the internal heat and 
the external blood gradually soften the more in¬ 
terior part.-, and produce circulation of the blood 
us fast as the thawing takes place, most of these 
dangers are obviated. If the snow which is ap¬ 
plied be colder than the frozen flesh it will still 
further abstract the heat and freeze it worse 
than before. But if the snow is of the same 
temperature it will keep the flesh from thawing 
till the heat from the rest of the body shall have 
effected it, thus preventing gangrene. Water, 
iu which snow or ice has been placed, so as to 
keep its temperature at thirty-two degrees Fah¬ 
renheit, is probably better than snow.” 
--- 
Facts about Railroad Speed.— A rail¬ 
road car moves about seventy-four feet, or 
nearly twice its own length, in a second. At 
this velocity the locomotive driving wheel, six 
feet in diameter, makes four revolutions in a 
second, the piston-rod thus traversing the cylin¬ 
der eight times. If a horse aud carriage should 
approach and cross a track at the rate of six 
miles an hour, an express train approaching at 
the moment w ould move toward it two hundred 
aud fifty-seven feet while St was in the act of 
crossing; if the horse moved no faster than a 
walk, the train would move toward it more than 
five hundred feet, which fact accounts for the 
many accidents at such points. When the loco¬ 
motive w histle is opened at the post eighty rods 
from tho crossing, the train will advance near 
one hundred feet before the sound of the whistle 
traverses to, and is heard at the crossing. 
Clear perception is refreshing as sleep. It 
is sleep from blunder, care and sin. In every 
thought we are lifted to sit with the serene 
rulers aud see how lightly, yet firmly, in their 
orbits the w’orld arc borne. 
iMing Ut tin ftciing. 
LITTLE BY LITTLE. 
One step, and then another, 
And the longr^t walk is ended; 
Oue stitch, and then another. 
And the largest rent is to ended; 
One brick upon another, 
And the highest watt Is made; 
One flake upon another, 
And the deepest snow is laid. 
So the little coral workers. 
By their slow and constant motion, 
Have built those pretty islands, 
In the distant dark blue ocean; 
And the noblest undertakings 
Man's wisdom hath conceived. 
By oft-repeated efforts, 
Have been patiently achieved. 
Then do not look disheartened, 
O'er the work you have to do, 
And say that such a mighty task 
You never can get through; 
But just endeavor, day by day, 
Auother point to gain, 
And soon the niouutain which you feared 
Will prove to be a plain. 
“ Rome was not bundl'd iu a day,” 
The ancient proverb teaches; 
And Nature, by her trees and flowers, 
The same sweet sermon preaches. 
Think not of far-off duties. 
But of duties which are near; 
And haring once begun to work, 
Resolve to persevere. 
11 .... — » • » ■ — - ■ 
ASHAMED OF HER FATHER. 
Little Sallik was the daughter of an hon¬ 
est blacksmith, and was a very frauk, warm¬ 
hearted child. A new house had been erected 
on a high hill near, by a fine gentleman from 
the city, and Sallie was quite delighted to see 
in his carriage, drawn by two bay horses, a 
sweet little girl about her own age. Once when 
she was in the shop, they stopped to say some¬ 
thing to Giles about shoeing the horses, and 
Sallie smiled at Lucy, who, in return, threw her 
a great big apple. She caught it so nicely that 
they both laughed heartily, and became friends; 
for little children have none of that mean pride 
which wo sometimes see among other people, 
till they are taught it. 
One day, when Sallie was dressed very neatly, 
she asked leave to take a walk, and bent her 
steps toward the mansion on the hill. She did 
not know how to go round by the road, so she 
climbed over fence and rail till she reached the 
grounds. There, to her delight, she saw Lucy 
on a little grey pony, which the coachman was 
leading carefully by the bridle. She drove up 
to the wall and asked In a kind voice, “Have 
you berries to sell, little girl?” 
Sallie laughed, and said, “No, I’m Sallie; 
dou’t you remember me? I came to play with 
you a little while. May that man open the iron 
gate for me ? It is very heavy.” 
“ I should like to play with you, and to let 
you ride on my pony,” replied pleasant little 
Lucy, “ but I know mamma would not allow me 
to play with you.” 
“Why not?” asked Sallie, in wonder. I 
never say uuughty words, and I’m dressed all 
clean this afternoon.” 
“ Oh,” said Lucy, “it is because your father 
works with his shirt sleeves rolled up, and has 
a smutty face and hands.” 
“Oh!” the smut washes off!” replied the 
innocent child. “He is always clean in the 
evening; and when he has his Sunday clothes 
on, he’s the handsomest man in the rworld! 
Mother is pretty all the time!” 
“ Oh, but mamma would not let you in, I 
know, because your father shoes the horses,” 
added Lucy. 
‘‘That is no harm, is it? Don’t your father 
want his horses shod?” asked the wondering 
Sallie. 
“Yes; but be won’t let me play with poor 
people’s children,” answered Lucy. 
“ We're not poor; we're very rich,” replied 
1 Sallie. “ Father owns the house aud the shop; 
and we've got a cow and a calf and twenty 
chickens, and the darlingest little baby boy in 
the world!” 
But after all this argument, little Lucy shook 
her head sadly, and said, “I wouldn't dare to 
ask you in; but I’ll give you some flowers.” 
So Sallie went back over fence and wall, won¬ 
dering much at what had passed. Then, for 
the first time in her life, she wished that her 
hither would wear his Sunday clothes all the 
week, just as the minister, and the doctor, and 
Lucy’s father did. She almost l’clt ashamed of 
him—so noble and kind and good—as she en¬ 
tered the shop to wait for him. She stood by 
the forge trying to enjoy the sight of the sparks 
as they danced aud fought each other after each 
stroke of the hammer. Bnt her thoughts were 
so troubled that she could not see them, nor the 
beautiful pictures which she always found be¬ 
fore the blazing fire, — mountains, castles, 
churches, angels, all were gone, and there was 
nothing left in the black shop but a coal fire, 
hot sparks, and a smutty man; tears came into 
Sallie’s eyes, but she crowded them back, be¬ 
cause she could not tell why she shed them. 
The fire, was out; the blacksmith pulled off 
his apron, laid aside his hammer,; and took the 
soft hand of Sallie in his own hal'd and smutty 
one. For the first time in her life she withdrew 
it to see if the black came off'. 
Just theu the ears came in, creaking and 
whizzing; and to her joy she saw little Lucy 
on the platform, waiting for her father. The 
conductor helped him from the steps, aud he 
called out to Lucy. 
“Take my hand, child;’’ but she put both 
hands up to her face to hide it, and sprang into 
the carriage alone; while the coachman, with a 
blushing face, almost lifted the finely-dressed 
gentlemen into it. Oh, what a ’sad sight! He 
had been drinking wine till his reason was 
gone, and he could uot walk; so his own child 
was ashamed of him! 
Then Sallie grasped the hard hand of Giles, 
not caring now whether the smut rubbed off or 
not, and totd him all that was iu her heart. 
“ Oh. father,” she cried, “ I was so wicked 
that I was just beginning to be ashamed of you 
because your face was black, and you did not 
dress up like a gentleman all the time! I’m so 
glad you are a blacksmith, instead of a drunken 
man! Poor little Lucy! She is ashamed of 
her father, although he has on a fine coat, and 
gold buttons in his shirt.'” 
The good fortune of the bad bows their heads 
down to the earth; the bad fortune of the good 
turns their faces up to heaven. 
I 
V^T 
