- 
SSmsmaiam 
JEa @ 
“THE QUEEN’S ENGLISH.” 
V\ r E invite the attention of our readers to 
the following communication from “Mat,” a 
fair and sprightly correspondent, of ours, who 
dwells in Clinton County, Iowa: 
“Dear Rural : — Please do inform your 
. readers whether it is a mark of refinement 
and gentility to ignore the sound of the letter 
* K ’ in speaking. When I learned the Alpha¬ 
bet, I did not. see but what that letter laid as 
prominent a place as any of the rest; nor was 
I taught invariably to pronounce it ‘Ah.’ But 
I hear many people— especially those who were 
formerly from eastern cities — who in conver¬ 
sation souud it in that manner. I was form¬ 
erly from New York State, and it is not at all 
pleasant for me to hear my native State called 
‘Noo Yawk.' 
Neither do I like any better to hear you 
designated as ‘ Jfhtah Jfooah, Maijnh of Jioch- 
estah, and Editah qf the Jlooral Noo Tatokah .’ 
Yet I hear similar absurdities constantly, and 
when I venture to give my opinion on the 
subject, I am informed that all people of edu¬ 
cation and refinement speak in like 1 numnah,' 
and I retire, 1 convicted, but not convinced.’ 
A few' days ago, I heard a New York City 
exquisite, singing: 
‘Fatah, Faiali, with golden haiab. 
Under the willow she's sleeping.’ 
I thought it was an insult to the composer 
of the song. But if that is correct, do let us 
know it! ” 
We feel very grateful to our correspondent, 
who has so happily hit off this vulgar and ridic¬ 
ulous affectation or speech, for thus commend¬ 
ing the subject to onr notice; for now that 
the matter of correct speaking has been start¬ 
ed, we find that we have several things we 
would like to say. 
Of course it is superfluous for us to assure our 
readers that such a style of enunciation is not 
correct, for if any of them had doubted it be¬ 
fore, "May’s” excellent illustrations must have 
convinced them of its absurdity. 
The letter R, which is thus habitually muffled 
by some persons, is one whose proper use in 
speaking is indispensable to a distinct utter¬ 
ance and proper enunciation of English w'ords. 
It should never be slurred over, nor on the 
other hand should it he dwelt upon too long. 
A slight rolling of the R imparts dignity and 
grace to grave discourse, and such a use of the 
letter is common with educated Englishmen, 
and with some of our best orators. “ .1,'/” and 
*«»»’ forR, (the latter corruption of this letter 
we have heard only in some parts of the South, 
and suspect it was caught from the Negro,) are 
both vulgarisms of the worst order, and will he 
carefully avoided by all such as wish to acquire 
a correct aud elegant use of the English lan¬ 
guage. 
A confirmed habit of vicious pronunciation 
very oiten grows out of careless enunciation. 
Many intelligent farmers, whose elementary 
edneation wa6 necessarily deficient, will plead 
guilty to the use of “ arter” for after, “holler” 
for hollow, 11 critter “ or “oritur ” for creation, 
“legislate? ” for legislature, “ tatur ” for potato, 
etc.; while we fear that some of their children 
who have graduated at the college or the aca¬ 
demy, do not hesitate to put their superior 
advantages to blush, by calling chicken “ chickn 
and rising “ rCsin.” 
-“ Speak clearly if you “peak at 3 ll; 
Carve every word before you let it fall; 
Don’t, like a lecturer or a"dramatic star. 
Try over-hard to roll the British R; 
Do put your accents In the proper *pot; 
Dou’t—let me heg vou—don’t env “How *" 
for “ Whatf’* 
And, when yon stick on conversation’s burrs, 
Dou’t strew your pathway with those dread- 
ftil -ure." 
Early education has much to do both with the 
formation of an individual’s vocabulary, aud 
with his methods of utterance and pronuncia¬ 
tion. We are acquainted with a person of libe¬ 
ral culture and great intellectual powers, who 
in conversation talks like a backwoodsman, 
never having been able to overcome the habits 
acquired early in life from intercourse with 
wholly uncultivated people. His written Eng¬ 
lish, on the contrary, is faultless. 
But this is au exceptional ease, and we are 
sure that such tendencies can almost invariably 
be overcome by diligent care aud watchfulness. 
In conclusion let us urge upon our readers to 
cultivate a feeling of responsibility in the mat¬ 
ter of the use of their vernacular. The faculty 
of speech is GoD-givon, and It is our religious 
duty to employ it conscientiously. Speech, too, 
is the measure of a man, and by our conversa¬ 
tion our intellectual powers and attainments 
are judged by the world. In familiar intercourse 
with our family aud friends we should be as 
judicious in our speech as though some captious 
6trangcr stood near to take our mental calibre 
from the words that fell from our lips. Again, 
correct habits of speaking induce correct 
habits of thought, aud by exercising a due de¬ 
gree of carefulness in this particular we will in¬ 
crease in mental force and directness. Above 
all, let us set our face# sternly against slang, 
the alarming prevalence of which, combined 
with the constant introduction into our lan¬ 
guage of alien words, Incident to our foreign 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MENTAL CONCENTRATION. 
■ 
Those who seek the highest intellectual im¬ 
provement must learn to think vigorously and 
rapidly. Effective study depends much more 
on intensity of thought than on the amount of 
time devoted to it. The great aim of the stu¬ 
dent should he to acquire the power of concen¬ 
trating his thoughts on one subject to the ex¬ 
clusion of all others. In this power lies in a 
great measure the secret of success. A large 
amount of time spent over any single lesson has 
the tendency to induce revery or careless and 
morbid habits of t hought, and the student’s 
mind will soon become stupid and inert. 
The Phonographer is obliged to tuink witti 
vigor, rapidity and accuracy. 'When a Reporter 
“takes a speech," he must give full attention 
to each word uttered, that he may write its cor¬ 
rect form. At the same time he must pass with 
the speaker from one word to another. 
These facts were very forcibly illustrated in 
the case of Mr. William S . Osooodlv, Re¬ 
porter at the Chicago Convention in ’50. One 
of the speakers spoke very rapidly, tasking Mr. 
Osgoodlt’s powers to the utmost to keep up 
with him. His mind became so absorbed in the 
work before him that he forgot his own exis¬ 
tence as much as if wrapped in the deepest slum¬ 
ber. When the speech was ended, the cheers of 
the audience, like a burst of thunder, roused 
him. At first he feared that he had been sleep¬ 
ing. But on turning the leaves of his note book 
he found he had completed one of the best re¬ 
ports he ever made. Arthur J. Barnes. 
MUSCULAR EDUCATION. 
From the Springfield (Mass.) Republican. 
Those who witnessed the University regatta 
at Worcester last week could not fail to be im¬ 
pressed alike with the splendid physical condi¬ 
tion of the competing crews from Yale and 
Harvard, and the absence of everything rough 
and rowdyish among the thousands of persons 
present, before, during and after the race. The 
regatta was a splendid success and shows the re¬ 
sult of modern college training In a very strong 
and favorable light. The attention that our cof- 
leges are paying now to the bodies ol Iheir stu¬ 
dents is among the best features of modern 
collegiate education. There is no more certain 
way of fitting the mind, heart and soul for vig¬ 
orous labor and the reception of careful culture 
than by putting the body iu good trim. When 
the body is strong and hearty, well developed 
and full of energy and vivacity, with life enough 
to row a three mile race iuside of IS minutes 
and still be fresh and unwearied, there is a 
chance for vigorous mental action. No man of 
either of these two college crews looked like 
anything else than he was—an educated gentle¬ 
man. They had muscle to be sure, but they had 
no roughness, and they were as quiet and gen¬ 
tlemanly In their rowiDg as in their recitations. 
And the spectators, too, were ladies and gentle¬ 
men, including men of all the learned professions 
and women of the rarest beauty and purest vir¬ 
tue. It was simply a contest of educated 
muscle, and educated people were there to wit¬ 
ness the result. The whole afi’air was in striking 
and happy contrast with a recent regatta on the 
Hudson river, where there were fewer righteous 
men aud women than Lot was able to muster in 
8odom, and shows beyond a cavil, that a man 
can be a gentleman and yet have skill in rowing 
a boat or batting a ball. 
The influence of the college and school gym¬ 
nasiums is making itself felt in the physical and 
moral character of our educated men. Boating 
would never have reached its present position 
at Yale and Harvard but for the college gymna¬ 
siums and the gymnasium practice. Harvard 
and Williams would not have had such base hall 
clubs, the one now holding the championship of 
New England, and the other having beaten 6ome 
of the finest clubs in the country, but for the 
gymnastic exercise that has been furnished thrir 
studeuts. Aud everywhere in our New England 
colleges, aud indeed In all others, we see that 
physical training is beginning to take its proper 
place aud rank, and is receiving the attention it 
merits. In the colleges that are conveniently 
located, the most natural expression of an im¬ 
proved physical condition is In boating; else¬ 
where, as at Williams, Amherst and Dartmouth, 
it gives rise to base ball clubs, foot ball matches, 
and games of wicket. Let this work of physi¬ 
cal culture go on until every school In the 
eouutry shall make it as much its business to 
educate the body as to train and cultivate the 
mind. Aud let us have university regattas, 
where all the colleges which aspire to excellence 
in boating shall contend In generous ardor for 
the championship, aud base ball matches for 
those who by their location are excluded from 
boating. The men of different colleges will 
thus learn to respect each other, and by an au- 
nual comparison of the physical training of our 
several colleges we shall be enabled to determine 
which is the best and shall the sooner reach a 
perfect system of physical development. The 
question of college championship is a small one 
compared with the greater and more important 
one of how the body can best be prepared for 
active physical service and for the hard require¬ 
ments of mental work. Wo welcome the era of 
Vi CV11UU IUvHIvUI lO OUr -— w mv Uifl VH 
immigration, threatens at some future day to physical traluing, and rejoice that our collegians 
degrade the Anglo-American speech to a level '-'an cultivate their muscular development aud still 
with the Chinook of the L’amanche and Piute retaiu a11 Ike graces of gentlemanly conduct. 
with the Chinook of the CJamanche and Piute 
Indians. 
When Baculard d’Arnaud, the Nestor ot 
French literature, at nearly ninety years of age, 
was projecting some new labor, an octogenarian 
friend and savau remarked to him, “It Is time 
lor us to think of repose; at our ago we ought 
lo rest from our labors.” ‘-Rest," ejaculated 
Aruaud, “ shall we not have all eternity to rest 
Remuneration of Literary Men.— A writer 
iu the New York Weekly Review states that 
Washington Irving said to him one day:—“If a 
Dutchman gets rich by keeping a corner-grocery, 
nobody sees any thing out of the way iu it; but 
if a literary man gets any beyond his bread aud 
cheese, gad, sir, they put it into the news¬ 
papers; it’s more wonderful than the great 
turnip.” 
LIFE IN JAPAN. 
The New York Tribune has occasional letters 
from Japan, which give the details of interest. 
The following paragraph from a recent letter is 
descriptive: 
Nothing in Japan will impress a stranger more 
forcibly than the exceeding stillness of its rural 
life, nor is it in the country alone that the ten¬ 
dency to quiet is apparent. There is little 
boisterousness in the every day life of the Ja¬ 
panese. The farmer swearing at his refractory 
ox or horse, the master or mistress loudiy chid¬ 
ing a negligent or unwilling scrvat.t, to the edi¬ 
fication of a neighborhood, are sights and sounds 
more germain to our cultivated ways than those 
of these rude people. Many is the time when, 
walking solitarily afield in some by-path, I have 
come suddenly oa a farmer Leading homeward 
his laden beast.. The animal snuffs the stranger, 
and in affright lunges away, breaking his leading 
rope, and spilling his load. Patiently the peas¬ 
ant goes to work to soothe his frightened beast, 
not pounding him, gathers his spilled load, 
apologizes for the trouble he has made, aud 
goes on again, leaving one to reflect on the les¬ 
son of patience and forbearance taught by the 
rude peasant. On the great thoroughfare of 
the Tokaida the daily throng passes by, sliding 
smoothly along in stocking feet or sandals of 
straw, A damio's train, with its hundreds of 
retainers, winds through the crooked thorough¬ 
fare, noiseless as a serpent's trail, save where 
the herald in advance calls out to citizen and 
waytarer, * Sta na iro.' “ Down on your knees.” 
The road-bed, beateu by the tread of genera¬ 
tions of travelers, reverbates no sound from 
straw-shod feet of man and beast. 
Only the wn-inum bearers move under their 
burden-poles to the chorus of their inharmoni¬ 
ous grunt, or a traveling vender of quack medi¬ 
cine, or Itinerant showman or pastry cook cries 
out the attractions of his trade, or some begging 
priest tinkles his bell, soliciting alms in sonor¬ 
ous voice at the open doorways, or it is some 
group of playing children, or hoyden lass on 
on her high wooden pattens who awakes the 
stillness as she goes clattering by to the bath¬ 
house. But away from the kaido, among the 
fields and farms, the stillness of a universal 
Sabbath reigns. I sec the rude plow driven 
through the field, the mattock sink into the 
yielding earth, but never a click of a stone gives 
back a sound. The burdened horses come filing 
through the winding pathways noisless iu their 
straw shoes, and their masters as quietly walk¬ 
ing along. There are laborers in the field at 
their noiseless work of pulling weeds. The 
groves are less vocal with bird songs than in 
our newer land. The very streams come gliding 
down between grassy banks and over stoneless 
beds with muffled sounds, to vill into the qniet 
sea. Many »time I have t«k,f > walk ot miles 
amoug alternate woods and cultivated fields of 
this populous neighborhood, meeting rarely a 
soul or hearing any souuds of animal life save 
the peasant calling to his mate, the whirr of 
the wood pigeons, the twitter of myriads of 
rice birds, or the piping of the frogs in the 
paddy fields, until I have wondered when, how, 
and by whom all the fields were tidily culti¬ 
vated. 
A CHINESE DINNER, 
A traveler recently arrived from Pekin gives 
the following description of u Chinese dinner; 
The first course consisted of a kind of square 
tower formed of slices of breast of goose and 
Of fish, which the C'hiucso call “cow’s head," 
with a large dish of hashed tripe and hard eggs 
of a dark color preserved in lime. Next came 
grains of pickled wheat and barley, shell-fish 
unknown in Europe,enormous prawns preserved 
in ginger, and fruits. All these are eaten with 
ivory chop sticks, which the guests bring with 
them. On grand occasions, the first dish is al¬ 
ways blrd’s-nest soup, which cousists of a thick 
gelatinous substance. Small cups are placed 
round the tureen,each containing a different kind 
of sauce. The second course was a ragout of 
sea snails. At Macao these are white, but at 
Niugpo they are green, viscous and slippery, by ] 
no means easy to pick up with small sticks. 
Their taste resembles that o: the green fat of 
turtle. The snails were followed by a dish of 
the flesh eoverlug the skull of sturgeons, which 
is very costly, as several heads are required to 
make even a small dish. Next a dish of sharks 
fins, mixed with slices of pork, and a crab salad; 
alter these a stew of plums and other fruit, the 
acidity of which is considered a corrective for 
the viscous fat of the fish; then mushrooms, 
pulse and ducks’ toDgues, which last arc con¬ 
sidered the ne plus ultra oi Chinese cookery; 
deers’ teudons—a royal dish which the Emperor 
himself sends as a present to his favorites; and 
Venus’ ears—a kind of unctuous shell-fish; 
lastly, boiled rice served in small cups, with 
acanthus seeds preserved in spirits, and other 
coudiments. Last of all tea was served. 
TRAINING UP MECHANICS. 
Many years ago a system of apprenticeship 
prevailed in this country, by which youths were 
bound for a term of years to a master, who 
agreed to provide instruction iu his trade, board, 
clothes and tution in return for their services, 
and for a portion of the time, pecuniary reward. 
We have never heard of any legislation on 
the subject, hut, for reasons which are quite ap¬ 
parent, the system exists no longer, and youths, 
instead of being bound, make a verbal agree¬ 
ment to serve out a stipulated period, whatever 
that may be. To the credit of our voung men, 
but few instances occur where they forfeit their 
word. 
The old plan was open to many objections, 
so many that the evil wrought its own care, and 
our shops are purged of it forever. Xu Tilhny 
cases hard masters starved their apprentices, 
half clothed them, gave them no schooling and 
educated them only in such branches of the trade 
as they close lest the fnture they might become 
rivals, and so spoil the business by too great 
competition. 
It was not in human nature to be ?o treated 
and not rebel, and if any reader Is curious in 
these matters let him turn back to files of pa¬ 
pers published twenty years ago, and lie will 
find small cuts of a man with a bundle slung 
over his shoulder with a stick, aud an advertise¬ 
ment readmg—“One cent reward! Ran away 
from the subscriber, an indentured apprentice.” 
What wonder that they ran away ? The world 
does not stand still; and so flagrant where the 
wrongs alluded to that by common consent, the 
system has been abolished. 
The times were out of joint. “ The Idle Ap¬ 
prentice” is the subject of a series of the most 
celebrated cartoons of Hogarth, and the idle ap¬ 
prentice of that time was the recipient of blows 
instead of food, and curses in H«u of instruction 
There were few inventions in thosu days; not 
because mankind were more degenerate, but 
because there was no incentive to exertion, and 
it was much harder than it now is to introdee 
any labor-saving machine .—Scientific Jjnerican. 
BISHOP WHATELY’S BRAIN TONIC. 
A hard thinker, he required compensating 
sleep. Man from first to last is fighting a battle 
with death through the tissues. These are 
wasted by labor, bat as long as they can be fully 
renewed by food, the man lives and is well. 
Otherwise he decays and dies. So with the 
brain; it weakens under continued, protracted 
labor; particularly at night. Sleeps restores It 
to strength, and fresh inclination and capacity 
for work. If sleep fails to do this, or if suffici¬ 
ent sleep be not allowed for the repose and 
invigoration of the brain, it3.powers decay, and 
even insanity may supervene through overwork, 
especially at undue times. No one knew this 
better than Whately, who may be said to have 
slept as fast as he could. Idle people are not 
to take this as a justification of their sluggish¬ 
ness. When Whately felt fatigue from overtax¬ 
ing the brain in the day-time, he would close 
his books, and a quarter of an hour after you 
might have seen the following instructive spec¬ 
tacle: 
The first occasion on which I ever saw Dr. 
Whately, (observes a correspondent,) was under 
curious circumstances. I accompanied my late 
friend Dr. Field, to visit professionally some 
members of the archbishop's household at Re- 
desdale, Stillorgan. The ground was covered 
by two feet of snow, and the thermometer was 
down almost to zero. Knowing the archbish¬ 
op’s character for humanity, I expressed much 
surprise to see an old laboring man in his shirt¬ 
sleeves felling a tree “after hours” in the de¬ 
mesne, while a heavy shower of sleet drifted 
pitilessly in his wrinkled face. “ That laborer,” 
replied Dr. Field, “ whom you think the victim 
of prel&ticftl despotism, is no other than the 
archbishop, curinghiaiself of a headache. When 
h'.s grace has been reading and writing more 
than ordinarily, and finds any pain or confhsion 
about the cerebral organization, he puts both 
to flight by rushing out with an axe and slash¬ 
ing away at some ponderous trunk. As soon as 
he finds himself !n a profuse perspiration he 
gets into bed, wraps himself in Limerick blan¬ 
kets, falls into a sound slumber, and gets up 
buoyant.”— Life of Whately. 
TRAVEL BENEFICIAL TO WORKMEN. 
We have always thought that our workmen 
might imitate one practice of their German 
brethren with advantage. Oa attaining his 
majority the German operative is obliged to 
travel through certain parts of the country and 
learn the different processes and methods of prac¬ 
ticing his art before be can settle down and fol¬ 
low his calling on his own account. The ten¬ 
dency of this rule, which is imperative, is to 
Improve and enlarge the ideas of the mechanic. 
Working in one town continually, the artisan 
becomes familiar with the methods there prac¬ 
ticed, and, whether good or bad, he is acquainted 
with these only. He is apt to become a man of 
one idea, and to thiuk that the mechanical world 
is bounded by the limits of his own factory. It 
is unnecessary to remind the thinking reader 
that such a course is directly opposed to pro¬ 
gress. 
To become thoroughly imbued with a sense of 
importance of travel as a means of developing 
and educating the mechanic, one has only to 
observe the different modes of doing the same 
piece of work practiced in different places. 
For instance, one man has a bed plate to plane; 
he roughs it off: takes half a dozen cuts where 
one would suffice, and dallies with the work, 
when an energetic businces-llke way of going 3 t 
it would have done the same thing in half the 
time. New tools, new uses for old tools, new 
processes, material and designs are only found 
by traveling about among mechanics, and by 
getting acquainted with what is transpiring iu 
the world of art outside of the sphere in which 
an individual may dwell. 
Rolling stones gather no moss, says the adage, 
hut we don’t want any moss. Moss is a vegeta¬ 
ble growth, the result of quiet seclusion, aud a 
rooted adhesion to one spot. So are prejudices 
and notions; if by rolling, mechanical stones can 
get rid of moss they will he benefltted thereby. 
He who keeps his eyes opeu, and travels to 
learn, not to go from pillar to post, will see 
the value of these suggestions.— Scientific Amer. 
Dr. Johnson says, “ Good actions are never 
lost or thrown away.” That is probably the 
reason why one so seldom meets with them. 
i fort 
WE LOVE THE TRUTH. 
Wb are the boys who love the truth, 
And mem to speak it come what may; 
Falsehood is cowardly and base. 
And God condemns the liar’s way. 
tVe’ll strive to keep onr conscience clear, 
As on we pass through age or youth; 
Where'er we are, whate’er we do, 
We’ll speak the truth, we’ll speak the truth. 
We are the girls who won't deceive, 
Our faults we'il not deny or hide; 
Parents and teachers It would grieve. 
If we should choose the wicked side. 
No, no; we'll keep a conscience clear, 
. As on we pass through age or youth; 
Whate’er we do, where'er we are. 
We'll speak the truth, we’ll speak the truth. 
A BAD BOY. 
I have seen pieces entitled “ The Good Boy,” 
or “Good Girl.” But now lam going to tell 
you of the “Bad Boy,” that you may no>2 imi¬ 
tate him in his badness, but that you may take 
warning, and “eschew eviL” 
’Twas back among the hills of Western Penn¬ 
sylvania that there lived, many years ago, two 
boys—two brothers—we will call them William 
and James. Their father was wealthy, and they 
lived oa a beautiful farm in a fine brick house, 
with a nice large orchard adjoining. Now Wil¬ 
liam was a “ rogue ” of a hoy—loved to tease his 
brother and play tricks upon him. And James, 
naturally sensitive, was growing more and more 
Irritable every day. Often they would fight and 
squabble, but William being two years the elder 
and much the larger and stronger of the two, al¬ 
ways came off theconqueror,yetwould sometimes 
take refuge In flight. So things went on for 
several years, until at last there came a “crisis.” 
Now I presume you know what a “crisis” is? 
If not, ask Pa or Ma, and they will quickly in¬ 
form you. 
One day the boys’ father requested them to go 
down through the meadow and carry some meal 
in a pail—or bucket, as they were wont to call it 
—and feed some fine stock that he had just 
brought home. Well, the day was fine, the sun 
shone out beautiful and warm, the trees were 
budding and getting ready to blossom, the birds 
were already in the branches, singing merrilv, 
and God seemed to be smiling upon that earth 
which cold winter had so long held in his icy 
grasp. Now these boys should have been verv 
happy. But William was contemplating, James 
fearing, some outbreak that would spoil the 
pleasure of at least one of the party. However, 
all that William could do on the way down 
through the orchard was to let the pail—which 
■was a little “ mite ” greasy—brush against his 
brother’s new linsey-woolsey breeches; this 
was some annoyance, but nothing to what fol¬ 
lowed. 
After feeding the stock, William caught up 
the pail and with a strong arm carried it some 
little distance toward home, then set it down on 
the ground and ran for home. James caught up 
the pail, and, by exerting himself a little, car¬ 
ried it so as not to soil has pants, an equal dis¬ 
tance. Now it was William's turn, but he de¬ 
clined, and ran still raster for home. AU at once 
he seemed to change his mind, and he leaped a 
fence into an adjoining lot, to see his favorite 
sugar-maple tree, and examine its trough and 
see how much sap it contained. This gave 
James time to come up with him. And, burst¬ 
ing with indignation, he thought at one blow to 
put a stop to such scandalous conduct as his 
brother had been too often guilty of. So stoop¬ 
ing to the earth, he caught up a stone, and 
threw it at his brother with such force and pre¬ 
cision that he immediately brought him to the 
ground. But like Cain of old, no sooner was 
the deed done than he regretted it sorely, and 
immediately ran to his brother, exclaiming, “O 
brother! have I killed you ? ” But he was not 
dead, thank God: only stunned. He soon arose 
to his feet, but the wound, near the temple, was 
bleeding profusely. They went together to a 
large trough of dear water that stood near by, 
and bathed the wound long and carefully. By- 
and-by the blood ceased to flow so profusely, and 
had gone out to some other part of the farm. 
But the mother, stretched upon her death-bed 
bad heard the cries of her boys, and in an agony 
of suspense awaited their return: and now her 
worst fears were confirmed—contentions, bruis¬ 
es, and blood. Entirely overcome, she covered 
her face aud wept. Oh my God! those tears; 
every drop was a drop of molten, fiery, red-hot 
lead upon my wounded and crushed and bro¬ 
ken heart; for, children, it Is James that is writ¬ 
ing this for you. Then I was put away and my 
brother questioned concerning the matter. I 
believe he gave a truthful account of it all, for 
when my mother called for me she bade me 
kneel beside her bed, and, placing one hand 
upon my head, sL> only exclaimed, “My poor 
bov.” 
And then her lips moved as if in prayer, and I 
knew the prayer was for me; and the tears trick¬ 
led down her pale emaciated cheeks. And I 
could see no m-'-t, for the tears then, as they 
do now. blinded my eyes. 
■* * * * * 
Mauy long years have pas’. The mother died. 
We grew to be men. My brother went through 
college, married and was promoted to offices of 
honor and trust; but whenever yon saw him, in 
the college-hall, at the alter, or in the legislature, 
he still carried that ugly scar on his cheek, and 
he will carry it to his grave. As for me, I have 
learned to govern my passions to a great 
extent, and by the grace of God hope always 
to restrain my passions and do some good 
In the worid. But whenever I go, whether 
iu the city or in the country; wherever I stand, 
whether on the river or lake-shore, or in the 
pulpit, surrounded by an attentive little band of 
listeners, still I eau liear that gentle voice ex 
claiming, “ My poor boy, my poor boy!" And 
that sorrowful face, 1 see it still; aud that gentle 
hand I feel it still resting upou my head ; and 
those tears, they still burn; and I want them to 
burn until all the dross and iniquity is burnt out 
of my heart, aud nothing but love reigns there. 
— X. Y. Independent. 
V 
