ibaSnltt!. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LOUNGOTGrS. 
BY O L O F F E THE DREAMER. 
— 
IV.—THREE DAYS. 
Yesterdat was the beginning of a week in 
the shining quiet of early autumn, with the 
change—in outwardness at least—of toil to rest, 
of business to worship. From the snugness of 
my room at the hotel — from the shade and the 
stillness of Madison Square, where I weut in the 
morning — from the thank-heartedness of my 
stroll in the dusk and the twilight — I saw the 
Sabbath everywhere. There was no crowding 
of omnibuses, carts, expresses, and all the para¬ 
phernalia of the weck’6 Broadway—they were 
resting somewhere—only the rattling backward 
and forward of the carriages and coaches, tilled 
with broadcloth or satin, made up the day. And 
a little aside from the Long Way, swiftly borne 
by the wheels or sweeping silken trains on the 
smooth walks, the pride of the Avenues glitter- 
ingly displayed its wealth of jewels and dress. 
Away up Broadway, near one or two of the 
immense dry goods establishments, is Grace 
Church, where each Lord’s Day so many gather 
to kneel on crimson cushions amid the cloud of 
prayer and praise which rises to the Mercy Seat 
of Heaven. The Omniscient Father, who looks 
into each heart as it lies open before Him, and 
who judges frith no human flnltcneaa, Only 
knows how sincere or meaningless the spirits 
here unite in petition or thanksgiving, or in the 
burdened utterances —the hitter, earnest cries, 
“ O Lamb of God who takest 3way the sin of the 
world, grant ns Thy peace! ” 
“Behold,” said the sonorous voice of the 
preacher yesterday, “ we count them happy 
which endure ! ” And the rings of sound rolled 
up to the vaulted roof which echoed in faint¬ 
ness, “happy which endure.” The Church was 
heavily draped for its dead rector, and the after¬ 
noon sunshine peeped dimly through the stained 
windows, seeming to blend its life with the hush¬ 
ing anthems of the choir. And when the ser¬ 
mon was done, the clear-voiced tenor led the 
melody of the hymned music: 
“While Thee 1 seek, Protecting Power, 
Be my vain wishes stilled; 
And may this consecrated hour 
With better hopes be tilled,” — 
and we passed out with the blessing of the bene¬ 
diction, under the shadow of the porch, into 
the ripe autumn day, so fast slipping away. 
I have been this afternoon to see Brooklyn 
play base-hall better than Philadelphia, and now 
I am taking my last glimpses of New York— 
through the windows of the dimly lighted street 
car, as it growls up Fourth Avenue. I have 
seen the Metropolis in my own way, following 
my own nose and my own counsel, and now 1 
am saying “good-bye." The brightly shining 
stores stare fixedly, but condescend to no nod of 
recognition or farewell, and I cannot help think¬ 
ing that in this great city, lilled with so much 
amhitionsnoas for Number One, it is not the 
avenues nor the cross streets, but the out-of-the 
way comers which are hidden in their own still- 
heartedness, that nourish the beauty aud the puri¬ 
ty which make the soul of New York, aud which 
“shall he Mine when I make up My jewels.” 
— Grumbling through the long tunnel—flying 
over the winding truck as we follow the mon¬ 
strous dazzling eye, hooded in SBort and swift¬ 
ness—or slow moving on some great boat, car 
and all, while the moonlight glistens along the 
shrouded fields and woods, or on the murmuring 
water—make up the journey of the night, aud 
while one is hardly conscious whether the noise 
heard is the train groaning or some companion 
snoring, a gentle nudge wakes him broadly to 
hear a “ Most there, Sir.” 
One of the travelers and myself about sunrise 
go out for a walk around this pleasant city of 
Providence. A steep hill, which strangely 
enough we find easier in ascent than in descent, 
brings us in sight of old “ Brown,” with its ter¬ 
ribly uuiuteresting exteriors, and yet which fills 
aspiring youth with a vast deal of knowledgc- 
stuffiog through each four years, bettering them 
for entering the lists in the world’s great fierce 
fights. There is so much to be achieved that is 
grand and heroic, so much ambition aud aspira¬ 
tion, that the aims and dreams which make up 
the life of College become absorbed in what is 
without and beyond. Scattered over the broad 
world is the great hrothurhuod of scholars, doing 
God’s errands, and with Just as earnest fulfllL 
ment, side by side with those who sweat in the 
furrow, aud who feed the furnace fire, like the 
coral insects, building up with their bones the 
t reat temples of civilization. Let them never 
esert the right or the truth; for, as Geokok 
Eliot tells us, “there is seldom any wrong 
doing which does not carry along with It some 
downfall of blwdly-climbiug hopes, some hard 
eutail of suffering, some tragic mark of kinship 
in the one brief ripen, to the far-stretchh]g lite 
which went before, aud to the life which is to 
come after.” 
Along one of the shaded streets of the old city, 
for a distance sufficiently pleasant not to be 
tiresome, and 1 fiud one or two or so, waiting 
with a welcome for the chronicler of these 
Loungings. A goodly amount of talk, in jest 
and earnest, made up of suggestion, description 
and story, and then two of us go out for a drive, 
— Slowly up one of the high hills which Provi¬ 
dence delights in,—then a little more briskly 
along the winding road beyond, fringed with 
overhanging boughs, as yet unchanged by the 
mcLlowuess of later fall. Here and there we 
catch a glimpse of the Seekonk shimmering iu 
the hazy sunlight,— now we are quietly linger¬ 
ing in a silent city of marbled houses, so elo¬ 
quently remiudiug that 
“-earth Is only 
| The vestibule ot palaces whose courts we uever win.” 
Now, we are on the long way close by the 
i river, and again we have gained the height by 
) the Dexter Asylum, and stop a moment or two 
I to overlook the city as it seems robing itself in 
' shadow and smoke, while daylight is dimming 
\ into dusk, and one by one tiny points of light 
L begin to pierce the mist, and — then homeward. ” 
R j 
'V'.,- 
TIIE EAGLE’S NEST. 
Yocng readers will be interested in our illus¬ 
tration, which really needs no description. 
In general all eagles are found in the moun¬ 
tainous and ill-peopled countries, and breed 
among the loftiest clifls. They choose those 
places which are remotest from man, upon 
whose possessions they but seldom make their 
c&fr ttcafiotiaL 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A CHAPTER FOE TEAOHEES. 
BY C. A CHURCtr. 
Ever since I have read the Rural —and I can 
hardly remember when my weekly perusals of 
it began — one column has been kindly and 
profitably given to Teachers. Iu it I have found 
many bits of good advice, aud much sound 
reasoning. I have been waiting patiently, for 
weeks past, to find more Buch “ bits,” and leurn 
something uew in the art of school teaching, 
for, if other men can, a teacher cannot know 
too much. He cannot understand books, the 
world and human nature too well, aud I believe 
that a good understanding of the last is as 
essential to success in teaching as is a thorough 
kuowledge of the first, if not more. Some of 
our most learned scholars have proved them¬ 
selves incapable of teaching, simply because 
they could read Shakspeare, “ The Bells,” and 
“Hiawatha” better than they could their stu¬ 
dents. By a few, such men would be culled 
first-class educators, and for some pupils they 
would be; but the mass ol their schools would 
neither love nor respect them. When a teacher 
gains the respect of bis scholars he gains their 
love; and when he has their love he has all they 
can give him towards his success, and if he fails 
the blame must rest upon his own shoulders. 
Pleasant words are a teacher’s best and truest 
weapons; while threats stir up among his 
school a mutinous and unfriendly feeling that 
weeks and months of after - kindness cannot 
erase. He must learn to forgive and forget. If 
it is necessary, punish—then forget it. Lay 
nothing up against a child because he happens, 
sometimes, to celebrate his boyhood. Children 
think this world was made for fun, and they to 
make it. Wc thought so once; but years have 
corrected the Impression. Remember you were 
ouce children and scholare; wore boots that 
would make a noise, carried jack-knives that 
wouldn’t stay iu your pockets; aud owned lips 
that would whisper, hold them as closely as you 
could! It is natural for a hoy to talk and act 
like one, and human nature is.the hardest thing 
to govern uuder the sun. 
Some teachers Instruct as if they deemed all 
that is required of them is to tell all they know 
of Arithmetic, Grammar, Readiog, &e., aud l 
have known parents who denounced a teacher 
as not doing his duty, spending his time fool¬ 
ishly, aud all that, because he used a few 
moments each day in talking of Astronomy, 
Philosophy, History and Governmeut. If n 
teacher has a duty higher than the mere hearing 
of recitations, it is to hold conversation with 
his school upon such subjects as these. Besides 
instructing, it is one of the best uud most pow¬ 
erful stimulants to work that can be employed. 
It sets the young mind to thinking. The 
scholar begins to see he is “ fearfully and won¬ 
derfully made,” and that the world in which he 
lives is a universe of mysteries. I know when 
I began the study of Philosophy, from books, I 
went to work with a will I should never have 
had if I had not previously caught glimpses of 
philosophical secrets. 
Again, give your scholars change. Don't 
keep them on the same old track week after 
week aud mouth after month. You, old as you 
are, would weary of it, and sink down into the 
depredations, being contented rather to follow 
the Wild game in the forest, than to risk their 
safety to satisfy their hunger. Of all animals 
the eagle, flies highest, aud on this account he 
was called by the ancients the Bird of Jove. 
The nest of the eagle is usually built in the 
most inaccessible cliff of the rock, and often 
I intended to. I shall expect to hear from other 
teachers. 
Jefferson Co., N. Y., 1867. 
The above contains some useful hints, which, 
we trust, will profit those for whom they are 
intended. Wc propose to give the Educational 
Department with greater regularity, hereafter, 
than has been feasible during a few mouths 
past, and hope to make it more than ever inter¬ 
esting and valuable. To this end, we solicit 
communications from Teachers, and others, 
upon subjects concerning the practical work of 
Instruction. Let therrJ be brief, and to the 
point. V 
MODERN EDUCATION. 
Education should represent the existing state 
of knowledge But in America this golden rule 
is disregarded, especially in the cu6c of the higher 
establishments. What is termed classical learn¬ 
ing abrogates to itself a space that excludes much 
more important things. It finds means to appro¬ 
priate, practically, all collegiate honors. 
This evil has arisen from the fact that our 
system was imported from England. It is a 
remnaut of the tone of thought there in the 
sixteenth century ; meritorious and justifiable 
enough in that day, but obsolete in this. 
The vague impression that such pursuits im¬ 
part a training to the mind has long sustained 
this inappropriate course, it also finds an ex¬ 
cuse iu its alleged power of communicating the 
wisdom of past ages. The 'fraud depoisttorm of 
human knowledge arc not I he ancient but the mod¬ 
em tongues. Few arc the facts worth knowing 
that are to be exclusively obtained by Lutiu and 
Greek; and as to mental discipline, It might be 
reasonably asked how umeh a youth will gain 
by daily translating a little good Greek or Latin 
iuto bad English ? 
So far as a preparation is required for the sub¬ 
sequent. struggle of life—for discerning the in¬ 
tentions aud mectiug the rivalries of competi¬ 
tors—for skill to design movements aud carry 
them out—for clearness of perception into char¬ 
acter and motives, and for giving decision to all 
our actions—so far as these things arc concern¬ 
ed, an ingenious man would have no difficulty in 
maintaining the amusing affirmation that more 
might he gained by a mastery of the game of 
chess, than by translating all the Greek aud 
Latin authors iu the world.—/. W. Draper. 
LITTLE PLAID SUN-BONNET. 
Little plaid sun-bonnet, what do you hide, 
Down In the grass by the sunny;wall side ? 
Any short ringlets half out of curl ? 
Any round forehead as pure as a pearl ? 
Any blue eyes with a laugh bubbling overt 
Any red mouth closing on a rod cloverf 
Is it the wind makes you dance up and down ? 
Or is it a fhiry head under your crown ? 
O, Earth is bright, by the glad summer kissed 1 
Millions of roses might scarcely he missed; 
Acres of buttercups, growing so gay, 
Cause not a sigh when their gold drops away, 
Yet to my heart how your charms were destroyed, 
All your fresh meadows how wintry and void. 
Earth, should you lose from your beauty and pride, 
Just what a little plaid bonnet can hide. 
WHAT THE EILLS SAID. 
% - 
I have just been watching the little rills jump¬ 
ing and skipping merrily along, and it made me 
think of the talk a good doctor once had with 
some of them as he was traveling over the Alhh 
ghany MountaiuB. 
“What was it?” 
Well, he asked them where they were’going 
so fast. 
“Oh,” they said, “just down the mountain.” 
“ And what are you going to do as you go 
down the mountaiu?” he asked. 
“ O, we shall rnuke friends with other little 
rills, aud grow bigger,” said they. 
“ And what will you do when you grow 
bigger ?’• 
“ O, wo shall turn saw-mills and grist-mills; 
and when we got down through all the rocks ou 
the plains, we shall set some great iron factories 
and cotton-mills in motion.” 
“ And what will you do then ?” 
“ Then ? Why, we shall make the Alleghany 
and Monougahela rivers, and when we arc big 
enough wc shall make the great Ohio.” 
“ And what then ?” 
“ O, then we Bhall take npon our backs great 
rafts and steamboats, and beautiful ships, and 
help to build up beautiful villages and cities.” 
“ Aud what thou ?” 
“ What then? Wby, wo shall unite our forces 
— for we do not mean to live by ourselves —with 
thegreat Missouri and Mississippi, and helpthcm 
carry a thousand ships to the ocean.” 
“ What! are you going to do this, you little 
rills ?’’ 
“ Yes, sir, we are; and If you don’t believe 
us, we can’t stop to convince you of it, for we 
are iu a hurry,” and off they ran ou a jump. 
If the little rills are golug to do so much, 
what will not the children do, the boys and 
girls who are growing bigger uud stronger every 
day, and will hy-and by he felt for good or evil 
in this world. Some who are bright and spark¬ 
ling now will, I am afraid, run into the first 
snug and sunny spot, and there stay nntll they 
dry up. An easy, selfish life, blessing nobody, 
at last shrinks to uothing. Others who are 
shielded from the weather by some juttiug erag and when we get down through all the rocks on 
that hangs over it. Sometimes, however, it is the plains, we shall set some great iron factories 
wholly exposed to the winds, as well sideways and cotton-mills In motion.” 
as above; for the nest is flat, though built with “And what will you do then?” 
great labor. It is said that the same neat serves “Then? Why, we shall make the Alleghany 
the eagle during life; and indeed, the pains be- and Monougahela rivers, and when we arc big 
stowed in forming it, seem to argue as much, enough we shall make the great Ohio.” 
- - “ And what then ?” 
thus shutting the Imprisoned feet almost air- 1 wc B ball take npon our backs great 
tight, is as unhealthy as it is uncomfortable. rafts aild showboats, and beautiful ships, and 
For hot weather there is hardly any shoe so hel P to b,lild U P beautiful villages and cities.” 
agreeable as that introduced within the past “ And what thou ? 
three Or four years, known as the army shoe, “ Wtl «t theu? Wby, wo shall unite our forces 
and extensively used by base-ball players. It is ~ for we do not raean to Uve by ogives -with 
of a heavy canvas and unhlaeked leuthcr. It is thegreat Missouri and Mississippi, and helpthcm 
cool and remarkably easy to the tcet. The carry a thousand ships to the ocean.” 
texture of the canvas allows the escape ol' the * IV hat! 11 re you going to do this, you little 
perspiration, and the color of the shoe does not r ' 11 * 
attract the heat of the sun. It would seem that ' e8 > fe,r > we are; and ll you dou ’ t ' believe 
the plan of covering other portions of our U3 > we can,t Btop to conTince y,,u of f » r we 
bodies with material pervious to air might are in a hurry,” and off they ran on a jump, 
advantageously be extended to our feet. There H Ibe rills are golug to do so much, 
is no natural r «-u*ou why out fct.t should he so whnt win nnt th(! Children do, the boys and 
much less sensitive than our hands. They be- 2 irl * wbo are growing bigger and stronger every 
come Indurated und deprived of their natural day > “ d wll ‘ by-ftud-by be felt for good or evil 
uctivity by long, close confinement. The people bl this world. Home who are bright aud spark- 
of warm climates, who use their toes as we do i no " will, I am afraid, run into the first 
our Ungers, und the bore-footed school hoy, who 1 s,mg and sutmy * put > and LlR ' r '' stay n««l they 
picks up and throws pebbles with his feet, show dry up * easy ’ scbl ’b * 1l0 > blessing nobody, 
that the foot of the civilized adult in our cli- at last . 6hrIuk * to n0thln >v who are 
mate is a much abused member. A more flexible P rombl * D S nOW > w ' b ’ * am a ^raid, by-aiul-by he 
topics. 
AEE OHE PEET PEOPEELY CLOTHED. 
It is somewhat surprising that, with all our 
boasted improvements, we have not as yet pro¬ 
duced a proper covering for the feet. Barbarous 
people, if their climate admits, go with bare 
feet, or wear sandals, covering only the sole of 
the foot. We, however, encase the whole foot, 
and a portiou of tlie leg, in a material almost 
impervious to air and moisture, and generally 
uncomfortably hard aud rigid. The color and 
polish of our boots are directly calculated to 
attract the sun’s rays; and the enamel on patent 
leather, and the blacking on ordinary calf-skin, 
tend to harden aud solidify the substance, 
Closing the pores aud making air-tight cases for 
a portion of the body which exudes more per¬ 
spiration than any other, and is subjected to 
greater strain. Our boots in summer parboil 
and porous material lor our boots and shoes 
might, save us from many of those terrible 
annoyances, which, In the form of corns and 
bunions, make our pilgrimage one of pain. 
—Scientific American. 
SOMETHING WORTH KNOWING. 
People in general suppose that, by extracting 
and insulating what they conceive to be the 
nutritious principles of any alimentary sub¬ 
stance, they are able with greater certainty and 
effect to nourish the body of the sick and deli¬ 
cate. Thus we continually hear of Btroug beef- 
tea, pure arrow-root jelly, and the like, prepared 
with great care for such persous. But it will 
surprise many to hear that a dog, fed on tlic 
strongest beef-tea alone, rapidly emaciates, and 
dies within a short period; and that precisely 
the same consequence would ensue ou continu¬ 
ing the strongest man on the same food. It is 
also a faet that a dog fed on tine white bread 
(usually considered by far the most nutritive 
kind of bread) and water, both at discretion, 
does not live beyond the fiftieth day, and a rab¬ 
bit or guinea pig, fed ou the best wheat alone, 
dies of the symptoms of starvation, commonly 
within a fortnight, and sometimes much sooner. 
The same effects follow if they arc fed ou oats 
or barley, singly. An ass fed with rice boiled in 
water doeB not survive above a fortnight. The 
reason of all this is, that diversity of food, and 
a certain bulk, arc essential to nutrition. It 
follows that strong soup, beef-tea, arrow-root, 
animal jellies, and such articles of lood, should 
at all times he taken with 3ome alimentary sub¬ 
stance, and particularly with bread. 
diverted from the right way, and turn off into 
dark channels, where they will be lost; and 
others, a great number of our dear hoys and 
girls, I pray God, may grow up strong and 
good, to unite their forces with ail good and 
noble works, to bless the places where they 
live, and make the nation better for their hav¬ 
ing lived in it.— Selected. 
■ — — 
EVIL COMPANY. 
The following beautiful allegory is translated 
from the German. 
Tophronius, a wise Uacher, would not suffer 
even Ilia own grown-up sons and daughters to 
associate with liiose whose conduct was not 
pure aud upright. 
“ Dour father,” said the gentle Eulalia to him 
one day, when he forbade her, in company with 
her brother, to visit the volatile Lucinda, “ dear 
lather, you must thiuk us very childish, If you 
imagine that we should be exposed to danger 
by it.” 
The father took iu silence a dead coal from 
the hearth, and reached it to his daughter. “It 
will uot hum you, my child; take it.” 
Eulalia did so; and behold ! her delicate white 
hand was soiled and blackened, and as it chanced 
her white dress also. 
“ We cannot, be too careful in handling coalB,” 
said Eulalia, iu vexation. 
“Yes, truly,” said the father; “you see, my 
child that coals, even if they do not burn, black¬ 
en. So it is with the company of the vicious.” 
STRIKE THE KNOT, 
Strike the knot! said a gentleman one day to 
A New Railroad Invention. -A car carry- I his 80n ’ wbo - tired and weary ’ was leaning on his 
ing its own track, aud designed for use on com- I axe ° vera ,og bo bad in raiu been try- 
mon roads or the streets of a city, has been 1 mg to c eavL '' lb eu, looking at the log, the 
brought out in Philadelphia. In this vehicle the gcntleman saw how the boy had hacked and 
ear moves the. wheels instead of the wheels mov- ! cb >PP ed al] around tbe knot without hitting it. 
ing the car, and the wheels do not touch the taking the axe, he struck a few sharp blows ou 
ground at ail. There are six pairs of wheels, and th,: . knot ’ and 8pllt tUe lo £ wi thout difficulty, 
each pair has a broad flat foot attached. These ^'" i!i,J g> be returned the axe to his son, saying; 
“feet” rest on the ground and hear up the wheels, Always strike the knot!” That was good 
while two rails under the body of the carare made ltd ' ,ice ‘ H ls a capital maxim to follow when 
to roll along the upper surface of the tire as if it yoli aie * ll brout)lo. Have you a hard sum to do 
were passing over so many pullles or friction 8t 'bool? Have you got to face difficulty? 
rollers. The feet and wheels arc all connected by strike the knot! Look your trouble in the eye, 
an endless chain, and as fast as the body of the ^ be bold liou hunter looks in the face of the 
car passes beyond one of these feet it is lifted ‘ ou ' Never shrink from a painful duty, but 
from the ground and made to travel along to the s ^ ep right up and doit. Yes, strike the knot, 
kingdom ot “ I don’t care,” and become as dull our feet in a warm bath, and in winter freeze front of the car, where it drops on the road boys and girls, and you will always conquer your 
and careless as the little ones you call “lazy” 
and “sleepy.” The sweetest song a maiden 
ever sung will become, to the ear, worse than 
devoid of melody from frequent hearings, 
i But I have already written enough to fill the 
them in an icy envelope. It is doubtful if wet 
feet are, in themsuives, very conducive to dis¬ 
ease, some medical men to the contrary not¬ 
withstanding ; but cramped confinement of the 
feet, in an icy cold envelope, generated by per- 
“ Educational ” column, yet have not said half spiration and drilled by the external atmosphere, comotion may in time become common 
again, and the whole is thus kept In continuous difficulties. Strike the knot, and crack it goes. 
motion. The wheel truck in fact “ walks” aloDg ----- 
the road while the car itself rolls along over the Mere repining to begin only where thanks' 
wheels. Whether this invention will prove of 6l v * n £ 1° H° d for his mercies should end, the 
any utility, remains to be seen; but steam io- j moa l' afflicted of mankind would find life too 
short for complaint. 
