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Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TRIALS of the school teacher. 
It is said that when Jupiter offered the prize 
of immortality to him who was most useful to 
mankind, the court of Olympus was crowded 
with competitors. The warrior boasted of his 
patriotism, but Jupiter thundered. The rich 
man boasted of his wealth; Jupiter showed 
him the widow’s mite. The painter boasted of 
his power to give life to inanimate canvas, but 
JurrrKR breathed aloud in derision. The musi¬ 
cian claimed the only human science which had 
been transported to heaven; Jupiter hesitated 
—when, seeing a venerable man looking with 
intense interest upon the group of competitors, 
but presenting no claim, “Who art thou?” said 
the benignant monarch, “ Only a spectator, M 
gai<l the gray-headed sage; “all these were 
once my pupils.” “ Crown him! crown him! 
crown the faithful teacher, and make room for 
him at my right hand.” 
Truly, if any one deserves the “ Laurel 
Wreath” it is the true teacher. The vastness 
of his work includes not only the present age, 
bnt all future generations. Its importance, as it 
includes the welfare of the human race, pre-sup- 
poses it a work which hpa its Trials as well as 
its Rewards. Every great work has its trials. 
The vast machinery which moves off so quietly, 
so uniformly, so grandly, is not a product of 
Nature. It caused many hard days’ work and 
patient endeavor to prepare the iron, to remove 
obstructions and level the road, to bring together 
the complicated parts of machinery, and so 
arrange them that they may work harmoniously. 
So with the grand system of Education, which is 
so steadily moving onward in glorious majesty. 
We realise but very little how many hours of 
patient labor, of trial, and care, have been 
necessary to bring this groat work to its present 
state of efficiency. 
One cause of severe trial to the teacher, is the 
lack i]f sympathy in patrons of the school. How 
frequently is it the case that the teacher is re¬ 
garded as a* person of indolence and pride, as 
one who wishes to get along without work, yet 
desirous of obtaining the all-important dollar. 
The time spent by the teacher in the school¬ 
room, is supposed to be merely a pleasant pas¬ 
time, with none of the arduous labor connected 
with domestic duties. Those of us who have 
taught in the country, where an education is 
unappreciated, can understand this. These 
patrons generally Bend their children to school 
in the winter, because they have nothing else for 
them to do, and the younger ones in the summer, 
to get them out of the way. This lack of sym¬ 
pathy does not cease here; as a legitimate result, 
the patron is indifferent as to appliances really 
needed for the benefit and best interest of the 
child. For instance, a suflioient amount of 
books are not supplied, and those which are 
supplied are often unsuitable. Regularity of 
attendance is another matter uncared for; while 
the personal habits and general appearance of 
the scholars are often neglected. Not only this, 
but the school-house and surroundings are often 
evidently fitted up with the least possible regard to 
comfort, convenience, or beauty. These results 
of indifference are such as frequently dishearten 
the most energetic and faithful of teachers. 
When the work of teaching is fairly com¬ 
menced, the instructor is tried in a new direc¬ 
tion. His skill is now exercised, and ofttimes 
most severely, too, in the way of governing. 
His subjects for government arc, first, himself, 
and then his pupils; for if one does not govern 
himself! he will surely fail to govern others, 
The teacher, knowing this, resolves that however 
great the task, still he will strive that in uo case 
he may lose self-control. But holinds that vexa¬ 
tions which annoy in the school-room, are such 
as he least thought of and is least prepared for; 
so, on reviewing the day's labor, he often finds 
that in words and actions he failed to exhibit the 
proper spirit, and consequently sinks in self- 
respect, as well as in the respect of his pupils. 
The true teacher understands that cross and 
unkind words, angry looks, are not the proper 
means of government. So, too, he understands 
that upright positions, exact movements and 
general correct outward behavior, may exist, 
while as yetAAiere may be lacking a perfect sys¬ 
tem of discipline. A favorite author says:—“1 
consider a school judiciously governed where 
order prevails; where the strictest Bense of pro¬ 
priety is manifested by the pupils toward the 
teacher, and toward each other; where they are 
all busily employed in the appropriate duties of 
the school-room, and where they seem to be 
under the influence of the teacher as a leader, 
not as a driver.” The best disciplinarians arc 
they who govern without seeming to govern. 
To attain this standard of discipline, is the great 
aim of the earnest teacher, and forms one of the 
severe trials of his vocation. 
Again, there is the trial of patience. There is 
no profession of human action in which thus 
virtue U so constantly exercised as in teaching. 
Yes, “patience must have her perfect work” in 
the school-room. The scholars may be tardy to 
recitations, may be listless or dull, some almost 
unmanageable, yet the teachers must have 
patience. The schuol-honse may be an almost 
uninhabitable tenement, the yard around it open 
to the public highway; still, from moruing till 
uigbt, through sunshine and shade, Patience 
niust be his constant motto. Again, the teacher 
is the subject of remark for every one in the 
neighborhood. Ills best actions are often miV 
represented, his purest motives misunderstood. 
Thus he toils day after day, buffeting the strong 
current of ignorance, malice and waywardness, 
olten disheartened, yet supported by.lbe sure 
promises of the Great Teacher. “ He that is 
faithful in a f ew - things, shall be made ruler over 
many things, and he that winneth souls is wise.” 
Home, Ohio, 1863. A Tkachkk. 
STUDY THE CHARACTER OF YOUR PUPILS. 
The successful disciplinarian needs to be a 
thorough student in human nature. An ability 
to read the peculiarities of his pupils, will show 
him that, as they are widely different in their 
character, temperament, and degree of cultiva¬ 
tion, so must his methods of dealing with those 
pupils be as different, and specially adapted to 
the circumstances of each particular case. The 
pupil who is dull of comprehension. diffident, 
and for that reason often falls short in the per¬ 
formance of duty, needs not so much to be driven 
nor urged, as to be encouraged, allured, aud to 
be borne with in patience; while the brilliant, 
though hot-tempered, and insolent youth, who 
flies into a passion at the least exciting cause, and 
breaks over all rulos and sense of propriety, will 
require to be met with the utmost decision, cool¬ 
ness, and unimpassioned reasoning. The boy of 
low, vulgar tastes and tendencies, and the shame¬ 
less girl, must bo kindly and plaiuly shown their 
great mistake in their estimation of what is 
worthy and what is not; and must be led in the 
better way by judicious counsels and lofty mo¬ 
tives. The malicious ami unprincipled must be 
disarmed by the teacher’s own magnanimity and 
integrity, and the pupil who has become preju¬ 
diced, needlessly perhaps, against his teacher, 
must be disabused by kindness, especially in lit¬ 
tle things. Those roguish boys and girls—good- 
natured, but thoughrlessj-brim full of fun, but 
meaning uo harm — must not be harshly dealt 
with, but gently checked, and must bo shown, 
that while there is a time and a place for all 
things proper, trilling with the precious time of 
school, with the rights of other pupils, and with 
the authority of the teacher, is a little too serious 
to be indulged in for mere sport 
Theu there is another class of pupils whose 
management requires great tact and prudence. 
Wo mean those children who are neglected and 
abused at home, and whose conntenaucos so often 
wear the marks of sadness and of sorrow. Thoy 
uoed the teacher’s utmost forbearance and 
especial compassion. To them the world seems 
very hard. Teacher, if you can make the hours 
spent in the school-room the sunny portion of 
each day to them; if you will allow them to see 
a friendly smile on your -countenance, though 
they seldom or nover see one on the faces of 
those who have the care of them at home, you 
will havo the proud satisfaction of making glad 
their sorrowful hearts, and,'furthermore, you will 
have their hearty co-operation in all good meas¬ 
ures for the success of your school.— Massachu¬ 
setts Teacher. 
INTELLIGENT CURIOSITY. 
Education alone enables men to appreheud 
and relish what is new in a thousand directions. 
Very few persons can receive impressions on 
subjects upon which they are wholly ignorant, 
and on which their observation is unpracticed. 
This is conspicuous in such scenes as the late 
exhibition. Not one in a hundred of all those 
crowds took In a single Idea from any object to 
which the miud hud no previous clue. All the 
strangeness, novelty, and. beauty were, passed 
by—'were not, visible, did not reach the brain, did 
not even catch the sense of tho vacant, hewll- 
tlered gazer. The artisan studied machinery, the 
soldier looked at the guns, the rustic at the plows 
and harrows. But they could not even see tho 
pictures or the statuary which were ranged be¬ 
fore them. The women, as a rule, noticed droes 
and fabrics to the utter excl usion of other things, 
not from vanity or frivolity, but because these 
were the only matters their training qualified 
them to think about. A veil hung between them 
and all the art, genius, and wealth crowded round 
them. It was all too 6trange for the mind to say 
of anything, “This is new tome” — which is in 
fact comparing it with what is old. There was 
no ground for a comparison. A man sent his 
cook to spend the day there; the sole thing that 
remained on her mind was a kitchen grate, in 
which she observed somo novelties of construc¬ 
tion. The majority of all great crowds are like 
the woman who emigrated to America witli her 
husband, and, returning after some years to her 
native village, was asked what she had seen. 
“I can’t say,” she replied, “as I see’d anything 
pertiek’lar;” and if she had followed Humboldt 
over the world, she would have said the same. 
But who can cast a stone at his neighbor on this 
point of Intelligent curiosity? The desire for 
what is new, and the power of apprehending it, 
run in grooves. Nobody is inquisitive on all 
points deserving of inquiry; only the largest 
mind, most thoroughly cultivated, embraces 
most. — Saturday Review. 
The School House. —It is the duty of 
teachers, as well as parents and school commit¬ 
tees, to see that the circumstances under which 
children study are such as shall leave a happy 
impression upon their minds; for whatever is 
brought under the frequent observation of the 
young must have its influence upon their sus¬ 
ceptible natures for good or evil. Shabby school- 
houses induce slovenly habits. Ill-constructed 
benches may not only distort the body, but by 
reflex influence, the mind as well. Conditions 
like these seldom fail to disgust the learner with 
his school, and neutralize the best efforts of his 
teachers. Uu the other hand, neat, comfortable 
places for stndy may help to awaken the associa¬ 
tions enchaining the mind and the heart to learn¬ 
ing and virtuous Instruction with link of gold 
brightening forever. 
Schools in New York City. — From the 
annual reports of the departments of the public 
schools of New York city, it appears that more 
than 70,000 persons receive instruction in the 
free schools. The annual estimates for their 
support are $488,901. The number attending 
the corporate schools, including the House of 
Refuge, Orphan Asylum, Ac., is 4,235. 
iaifttiifif, HsiM, 
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK. 
The division of time into periods of seven 
days each was in use among the ancient Egyp¬ 
tians and Uebrows, and is borrowed tjy the latter 
from the Mosaic account of creation. If, accord¬ 
ing to some modern philosophers, that account is 
of uncertain origin, a mere oriental myth, then 
every successive week as it comes is an unex¬ 
plained phenomenon. Both Christians and Mo¬ 
hammedans adopted this division from the 
Hebrews; the Greeks and Romans received it 
with the introduction of Christianity after the 
reign of Theodosius. The names of the succes¬ 
sive days were those of the seven heavenly 
bodies with which the old Egyptian astronomers 
were most familiar; the sun, the moon, and five 
planets, which, however, they did not name as 
we do in the order of their nearness to the sun, 
but successively as Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Ve¬ 
nus and Saturn. This institution of the week, 
though originating in the Old Testament and 
propagated in the New, spread much further and 
faster than tho truths on which it was built; the 
Roman names of the planets and of the days 
over which they presided, were those of their 
own divinities, and the Teutonic nations from 
which wo descend, while they retained the sun 
and the moon, substituted, for tho other live 
days, tho corresponding names of their own my¬ 
thology. Hence, our English week is an early 
Jewish institution with Pagan Dames; tho sun’s 
day, the moon’s day, Tuiscc’s day, Woden’s day, 
Thor’s day, Friga’s day, Seater’s day. It is re¬ 
markable that tho week is recognized by the 
Brahminic astronomers, the days being named 
from the same planets and in tho same order as 
that of the Egyptians, but beginning with Fri¬ 
day, or the day of Venus. The Egyptian week 
began on Saturday. The people of China aud 
Thibet have a week of live days, numedjrom 
what thoy consider the five elements, iron, wood, 
water, feathers and earth. 
ABOUT COTTON. 
It is calculated that the average weekly con¬ 
sumption of cotton in Great Britain last year was 
22.900 bales, as compared with 45,900 bales in 
1 SOI, and 48,100 bales in I860. The average 
weekly consumption of France last year was 
5,200, as compared with 11,000 bales in 1801, and 
12.600 bales in I860. The average weekly con¬ 
sumption ol the rest of the continent was re¬ 
duced last year to 8,300 bales, as compared with 
18.600 in i860. An average total is thus arrived 
at of 36,400 bales per week last year, iu Europe, 
as compared with 75,000 bales per week in 1801, 
and 78,700 lades per week In 1800. Tho total 
receipts of cotton in New York during the month 
of January last was 21,493 bales. Letters from 
British Consuls, Bunco and Molyneux, In South 
Carolina and Georgia, make the Southern crop 
of cotton last year to tie about 700,000 bales of 
500 pounds each. They state that there are now 
4,500,000 bales in tho secession States. The last 
arrivals from California bring tho intelligence 
that the cultivation of cotton of a superior quality 
has been entirely successful in several counties 
in the State, and in Southern Utah 95,000 pounds 
have been baled and prepared for market. In 
the Tulare Valley, great preparations are making 
by the farmers to cultivate the Peruvian kind. 
The Legislature of California seems to think 
highly of the prospect, and has authorized the ex¬ 
penditure of $12,000 to promote the cultivation. 
vL * 1 m 
THE TWINKLING OF THE STARS. 
According to M. Arago, astronomers and others 
fail to arrive at a satisfactory explanation of the 
twinkling of the stars, on account of their failure 
to give an exact definition of the term “.scintilla¬ 
tion.” He affirms then, that, iu so far as the 
naked eye observers of the heavens are concerned, 
scintillation, or twinkling, consists in very rapid 
fluctuations in the brightness of the stars. These 
variations are always accompanied by variations 
of color and secondary effects, which are the 
immediate consequences of every increase or 
diminution of brightness; such as considerable 
alternation in the apparent magnitude of the 
stars, aud in the length of the diverging rays, 
which appear to issue iu different directions from 
their eeuters. It has bdeu remarked from a very, 
early age that the phenomena of twinkling is ac¬ 
companied by a change of color. It is asserted 
that the name of Barakeaeh, given by the 
Arabians to the star Sirius, signifies the star of a 
thousand colors. M. Arago also asserts that the 
planets twinkle. 
Was the Moon Ever a Comet.— According 
to M. Arago, the Arcadians thought themselves 
of older date than the moon. They maintained 
that their ancestors hud inhabited this planet 
before it had any satellites. Struck with this 
singular opinion, some philosophers have imag¬ 
ined that the moon was formerly a comet, which, 
in performing its elliptical course round the sun, 
came into the neighborhood of the earth, and 
was drawn in fo revolve around it. Such a 
change of orbit is possible, but evidently it 
could not havo taken place if the comet’s pere- 
hilion distanoe had been great. The cornet 
must, therefore, havo passed very near the sun, 
and have experienced an intense heat, capable 
of dissipating every trace of humidity. The 
almost entire absence of an atmosphere round 
the moon, tho scorched appearance of its vast 
mountains and deep valleys, and the few plains 
that are seen, havo been cited as proofs that this 
luminary was once a comet. 
Sir Walter Scott’s Memory. —Mr. Carru- 
thers, in tho course of a lecture ou Scottish his¬ 
tory, delivered in tho Queen street Hall, Edin¬ 
burgh, recently, mentioned an instance of Sir 
Walter Scott’s wonderful memory:—“I have 
heard Campbell relate how strongly Scott was 
impressed with his (Campbell’s) poem of ‘Lo- 
chiel’s Warnings.’ I read it to him iu manu¬ 
script,” ho said; “he then asked to read it over 
himself, which he did slowly and distinctly, 
after which ho handed to me the manuscript, 
saying, ‘Take care of your copyright, for l havo 
got your poem by heart,’ and witli only these 
two readings he repeated the poem with scarcely 
a mistake. Certainly an extraordinary instance 
of memory, for the piece contains eighty-eight 
Hues. The subject, however, was one which 
could not fail powerfully to arrest Scott’s atten¬ 
tion, and tho versification and diction are such 
as are easily caught up and remembered.” 
161 
THE COLORS OF FLAMES. 
In burning pure hydrogen gas upon a loop of 
fine plutinu wire, a white light is produced. In 
Buell a flame various substances emit different 
colors. Phosphoric acid gives a beautiful blue 
color; boracic acid an Intense green; chromic 
acid a rose color, and tuolybdic acid a yellow- 
green flame. Nitric and nitrous acids give a 
bronze-green color, and muriatic acid a greenish 
blue. Of tho alkalies, potash gives a rose-violet 
flame color, and soda an orange-yellow dame 
color, which iu very large quantities appeai-s 
pure blue; lithia affords a carmine red color, and 
baryta a blue-green flame. Stroutia gives a 
beautiful rose color; this substance is chiefly used 
for this purpose in fire-wcuks. The nitrate of 
copper gives a green flame; the chloride of cop¬ 
per, an azure blue. Every substance produces 
its own peculiar color or shade of color in flame; 
hence a knowledge of the colors of flames is 
essential to the chemist, and now forms a peculiar 
branch of chemical investigation. 
- ♦ »♦ - 
WHAT ONE SHELL CAN DO. 
The steamer Mercedita, which recently arrived 
at Philadelphia from Port Royal, requires re¬ 
pairs to her cuglnu and hull, caused by damages 
from collision with tho ram Palmetto -Rate, off 
the harbor of Charleston. About thirty feet of 
her side will have to be taken out. Seven planks 
and two timbers were stove iu by the rain'sprow, 
making a hole live feet vertically and three feet 
horizontally. A shell of one hundred pounds 
weight passed through the ship, cutting one man 
in two, and by going through the steam chimney, 
three men were scalded to death, three others 
badly scalded and a uumber slightly. It passed 
out the port side, destroying six planks and two 
timbers, making a clear hole three feet by two 
aud a half feet, aud shattering the planks eight 
or nine feet further. The shell exploded as it 
passed out. It is tho opinion of the steamer’s 
officers that, had there been a swell at the time, 
she must have gone to the bottom like a stone. 
—American Union. 
- ♦» » - - 
Good nature, like the bee, collects its honey 
from every herb. Ill nature, like a spider, sucks 
poison from the sweetest flowers. 
THE SLEEPINOiTROUT. 
I ukmkmiikk IftAtjsuinmcr n beautiful trout, 
In a brook that run uiulor a 8ton«; 
He was leaping, ami Hashing and darting about, 
And 1 thought the poor follow would like to get out 
Of the brook, for bo lived there alone. 
There he ate and ho slept and pretended to play, 
Without any sister or brother; 
I am sure he was weary of having his way, 
And nobody loved him but mo, for they say 
He don't know bis father and mother. 
Now the water is eold, there is ice on the brink, 
And tho mosses aro crusted with snow; 
There aro no little robins to como there to drink, 
And tho beautiful trout must ho sleeping, I think, 
la his snug little bedroom below. 
By and hy, when tho bluo-bird sings sweet overhead, 
And tho violet opens tier uup; 
And the sunshine looks in, where hu lies i> his bed, 
In a night gown all doited with yellow and red,— 
Do you think ho wiU ever wake up ? * 
-*-•-*--- - 
CHARLES RIVERS AND HIS THOUGHTS. 
NUMBER SEX. 
BY LEAD PENCIL, ESQ. 
Tom Defoe was prompt to gather a boquet of 
roses, and call on his class-mate, to learn more 
of this lovely flower. 
“ You were going to tell me how the rose got 
its color, Charley?” 
“ Yes, l was going to tell you of some of the 
fancies about it. It is not long since I read that 
the red rose is said to have been indebted for its 
color to the blood which flowed from the thorn- 
wounded feet of Venus, when running through 
the wood, in despair for the loss of Adonis. 
The white rose is said to have sprung from the 
tears which the goddess shed on that occasion.” 
“ Is that all?” 
“ No, for another writer says it was dyed with 
nectar, by the gods, when it was formed; an¬ 
other, that they were dyed with the blood of 
Ccpro— 
-“ ‘ 'Ti« said as Cupid danced among 
The god*, lie down the nectar tl ting ; 
Which on the white rose being shed, 
Made it forever after, red.’ ” 
“Well, 1 like the first fancy best—there is more 
romance in it.” 
“Yes, Tom, and It is generally accepted that 
the rose is indebted to Venus for its beautiful 
blushes.” 
“ That is sensible; but is there nothing more 
of interest about it?” 
“ O, yes, indeed! There has been a great deal 
written. 1 remember reading a fable once, in 
which something was said of the birth of the 
rose. It was said that Flora, having found the 
corpse of a favorite Nymph, whose beauty of 
person was only surpassed by the purity of her 
heart and the chastity of her mind, resolved to 
raise a plant from tho precious remains of this 
daughter of the Dryads, for which purpose she 
begged the assistance of Venus and the Graces, 
as well as all the deities lhat preside over gar¬ 
dens, to assist in the transformation of the 
Nymph into a flower, that was to be by them 
proclaimed queen of all the vegetable beauties. 
The ceremony was attended by the Zephyrs, 
who cleared the atmosphere in order that 
Apollo might bless the new-created progeny 
by his beams.” 
“But, Charley, who was Apollo?” 
“Keep still, Tom; I will tell you all I know 
about Apollo some other time, near about 
the roses now.” 
“Yes, yes; but I wanted a promise, you 
know." 
“ Well, about this new plant. Bacchus— I 
will tell you about Bacchus, too, sometime—it 
is said, supplied rivers of nectar to nourish it, 
and V EtiTUMNUa poured his choicest perfumes 
over the plant. When the metamorphosis was 
complete, Pomona strewed her fruit over the 
young branches, which were crowned by Flora 
with a diadem, ihnt bad been purposely pre¬ 
pared by the Celestials, to distinguish the queen 
of flowers.” 
“ Well, it is a fact, that I did not suppose so 
common a flower was ever thought or written 
of in this manner. It is worthy of it, it is time; 
but then there are few, I reckon, who think of 
this common, though beautiful flower, as having 
a history. Why, how much more Interest I shall 
take in It hereafter.” 
“ And yet, Tom, you despise books, I suppose? 
I havo told you nothing but what you could have 
obtained yourself by reading books in your 
father’s library. And lot me toll you, too, that 
it is an excellent practice to take any particular 
object—any flower or vegetable, ami gather from 
books all you can concerning it. Do not be con¬ 
tented with one book; but look in all that you 
can find in which you will be likely to find any¬ 
thing said of it. And if yon want to fix it in 
your mind, write out all you learn concerning 
it If you can, write what you remember of 
what you havo read concerning the object; blit 
if you want to be exact on any particular point, 
copy such a paragraph. P do so, and I find that 
1 do not only remember better, but get a clover 
idea of the meaning and relation of what I have 
been reading to the object about which f have 
been researching.” 
“ Have you told me all that you have learned 
about roses, Charley?” 
“O, no—not one-half of the beautiful legends 
that aro recorded ( of this flower. The first rose 
ever seen was said to have been given by the 
God of Love to IIosfoorateh, the God of 
Silence, to engage him not to divulge the amours 
of his mother, Venus; and hence the ancients 
made It a symbol of silence; aud it was their 
custom to place a rose above their heads in their 
banqueting rooms, in order to banish restraint; 
for then nothing would be repeated elsewhere.” 
“What a deal of poetry and romance may be 
attached to the merest flower! Has this custom 
anything to do with the saying sub rosn?” 
“ Yes, this is said to be tho origin of it. When 
anything was to be kept a secret, it was said sub 
rosa —under the rose.” * 
“Are not roses sometimes used as having a 
language?—to signify a desire or feeling?” 
“Yes; you know the moss rose is an emblem 
of love. It says to tbe fair one, ‘Thou art one 
of a thousand!’ And, then, in they East it has a 
language like this:—The presenting a rose-bud 
with thorns anil leaves, is understood to express 
both fear and hope; and) when returned, re¬ 
versed. It signifies that one must neither enter¬ 
tain fear nor hope. If the thorns lx; taken off 
before it is returned, it expresses that one has 
everything to hope. But if the leaves be strip¬ 
ped off, the receiver understands ho has every¬ 
thing to fear.” 
“That language is very expressive, and easily 
understood.” 
“Yes. And a wet r036 has been used to ex¬ 
press grief and love—rather a touching emblem, 
Tom!” 
“Yes, sir; and an exquisite one, too, I think. 
I wonder that I have been so stupid as to remain 
contented with the beauty and fragrance of roses, 
alone, so long.” 
“Booksare not to bo despised alter all, are they?” 
“ No, indeed!—not if they yield one who reads 
them all you seem to have learned from them.” 
“ Well, Tom, books are of but little use unless 
one observes and thinks. It la the thinking 
about what one sees and what unejeads, and 
using books only for the sake of learning more 
about what one sees and hears, that makes them 
valuable and interesting.” 
HELP YOUR MOTHER. 
We have seen from two to six great hearty 
boys sitting by the. kitchen stove, toasting their 
feet, and cracking nuts or jokes, while their 
mother, a slender woman, has gone to the wood- 
pile for wood, to the well for water, or to tbe 
meat-house to cut frozen steak for dinner. This is 
not as it should be. There is much work about 
a house too hard for Avomen. Heavy lifting, 
hard extra stops, which should be done by those 
more able. Boys, don't let your mother do it all, 
especially If she is a feeble woman. Dull, prosy 
house-work is irksoinu enough, at best. It is 
a long work, too, it befog impossible to tell 
when it is quite done, aud then on the mor¬ 
row the whole is to be gone over with 
again. There is more of it than one is apt to 
think. We wish some busy, all-day house- 
worker, tho arrangement of whose house is 
about as inconvenient as it can be—a no com¬ 
mon state of things —would count her steps for 
one day, and le.t us have the result in miles; let 
it be noted how many times from the stove to the 
wood-pile, to the pump, up and down the stairs, 
and especially how many times from the stove 
to the buttery .—Mombuj Star. 
XT'XtT' Ai'jsi 
.f -xycjy Jjy. 
