wan-der 
cing one jaugush worn to the original — Greek or 
Latin—showing its cognates, has caused a thirst 
for the classics. The drawing of one geometrical 
figure, and the demonstration of one proposition, 
are willing to lead you through the labyrinth, and 
Carleton ” writes from Suez to the Boston 
was discoursing to us of the wonderful mysteries 
of the Alhambra, Its legeuds and its uses, he would 
In this respect teachers have become almost as 
guilty as some merchants aud clerks. They are 
(SHucatihiral. 
Written for Moore'B Rural New-Yorker. 
“SO HAPPY BIGHT HERE.” 
Little Willie was busy at play in a cheerful 
room, one cold, rainy day in spring, when suddenly 
looking up to his mamma, who was at her sewing 
near him, he exclaimed, 
“Oh, mamma! what a pleasant and beautiful day 
this Is." 
“Why, Willie y” asked his surprised mamma. 
“ Do you not see the rain and sleet out of doom ? ” 
“I know it rains," said Willie; “but then it is 
so pleasant in this room, and I feel so happy right 
here;" and Willie placed his hand on his heart. 
Yes, Willie was happy in his heart. He had 
been a good boy that morning, and this was the 
secret of the beautiful day. Dear children, always 
try to do right and you will continually feel happy 
and contented in your hearts, and rainy days as well 
as sunny ones will surely he beautiful. Maud. 
Written for Moore'B Rural New-Yorker. 
HINTS TO TEACHERS. —No. II. 
Having shown in our first article two modes of 
inspiration; we find, upon examination, that one 
Very important method still remains—inspiration 
by leading out. Conduct a class into biography. 
Select, there, examples suited to forcibly Illustrate 
the condition of one of your class. Intimate to 
that boy the fact that the lamented Lincoln was 
once the poorest of poor boys,—that Alexander 
T Stewart, when he came to our shores, carried 
his effects in his hand,—that the pages of history 
aud biography are illumined with names which have 
been made to shine even amid circumstances most 
depressing. Tnough poverty with despotic sway 
thmight to crush its victim beneath its feet,— 
though physical deformity felt encourged with the 
hope of being able to shame its subject into obsen- 
rity,—the iron will conquered. Where there ia a 
will, there is a way. We need no better example 
than our own Franklin. Teachers, inspire your 
pupils with the sentiment that ia breathed in the 
stanza of Longfellow : 
“ Lives of great men all remind as 
We can make our Jives sublime ; 
And, departing, leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time." 
Let your motto be “ What man has done, man 
can do." 
So prevalent is the idea among scholars’and teach¬ 
ers of looking no further than the common text¬ 
book, that it has become injurious. Scholars are 
apt to think there are no other studies after they 
shall have completed their lower English books. 
Teachers do not feel inclined to clear up their minds 
or inform them differently. The analysis of one 
little flower has created a desire for botany. Tra- 
have awakened an interest for the higher mathe¬ 
matics. The recitation of one important event in 
history (for instauce, the career of Napoleon,) has 
inspired a pupil to descend, by stepping stones, the 
historical mouument of five thousand years. 
In the next place it is your duty to be firm. 1 
have seen teachers moved by the tears of scholars— 
tarued from a just purpose by their appeals. And 
to those teachers who profess the name of Christ, 
(l wish all did—all should ,) these appeals will have 
greater effect. They will fear, lest, by not heeduig 
such appeals, they will be called cold-hearted, un¬ 
kind, unchristian. But, teachers, be not deceived. 
Enter not into their sympathy. What could the 
surgeon accomplish if he were to heed the groans 
of his patient ? How could he retain his strength 
of nerve, if he were to sympathize with his subject, 
during a process of amputation ? Yet do you ques¬ 
tion the piety of those Christian physicians? Daty 
prompts them. They are obliged, by virtue of their 
professions, to execute first, sympathize afterwards. 
So with you. Let principle make you firm. 
Aguin—Be honest. In order to execute this duty 
you will have to use precaution in imposing penal¬ 
ties for uncommitted crimes. If not, you will im¬ 
pose the penalty for a crime, and when the crime is 
committed there will be no execution of penalty. 
AN ALHAMBRA GUIDE. 
In one of his “Letters from the Alhambra," now 
appearing in the New York Observer, Dr. Prime 
gossips pleasantly as follows concerning one of the 
Alhambra guides, and gives us an inkling that 
Irving’s imagination added a false charm to certain 
Spanish Institutions and personages: 
Bensaken Is the crude to the Alhambra. Others 
Persia, and before many years both must be stran¬ 
gled. The soldiers of Azerbijan, the most martial 
province of Persia, are devoted to the Czar; the 
authorities of Tabriz are in his pay. England and 
France may insist on the dismantling of the Cau- 
casin fortresses; but the Armenians will welcome 
the day which ranges them among the subjects of 
the Emperor of Russia. Yet these events, proxi¬ 
mate as they seem, cannot be consummated without 
fresh contests.— Exchange. 
-- 
BY THE BED SEA. 
all knowledge of ns save of the names of them, shall 
perish out of the world, will not the historians of 
those times be justified in writing down the Anglo- 
Saxon nations of these ages, as veritable Pagans? 
Historied, but false suppositious, are doubtless now 
in existence, which had their rise in less suspicious 
items than these. The Future may possibly assert 
that the benighted and Pagan Saxon of the West, 
like his benighted and Heathen Ancestor of the 
North, called even his days after the names of his 
gods. And such gods ! 
Montview Cottage, Pekin, Niagara Co., N. Y., 1868. 
Italian, French and English, with a dash of Arabic, 
which they have picked up from the translations of 
inscriptions on the walls; but they are all iguorant 
fellows, who live by the ignorance of those to whom 
they tell their stories. Now Bensaken is an Eng¬ 
lishman, born in Gibraltar, and ha3 lived to be sev¬ 
enty years old in Spain; has been through all these 
years adding to his knowledge of the country, its 
history and its condition, especially all that relates 
to the Moors, Granada and the A iiambra, until he 
has grown into a walking cyclopedia of Spanish lore. 
And this learning of his he guards so cautiously 
that when other guides and interpreters, with trav¬ 
elers so unhappy as to have fallen into their hands, 
would come near to us while our learned Bensaken 
continually telling " threo-ooat Jlco." tucjc will 
give any Bchool an impetus to persevere in wrong¬ 
doing. Many good pupils have been falsely trained 
in this way. There is too much pardoning at capi¬ 
tal — in the State—in the school-house. o. k. 
Iloneoye, N. Y,, 1863. 
-<»♦«•» «« »- 
TEACHEKS OF YOUNG AMERICA. 
There seems to be no doubt that women are 
superseding men as teachers in the schools of the 
United States. An examination of the census 
shows that of the 150,841 teachers in the common 
schools of the country, exactly 100,000 are women. 
In Massachusetts there are six times as many female 
as male teachers. In Vermont the proportion is 
five to one; in Iowa three to one. The dispropor 
tion is the most marked in the large cities. In New 
York there are only 178 male out of over 2,000 
teachers; in Philadelphia, 83 to 1,800; and a similar 
proportion prevails in all other citieB. The cause 
seems to he that few men are willing to euter sys- , 
tematically a profession which nowhere holds out a 
higher salary than 83,000, the average payment be¬ 
ing 80,000 per annum. A leading principal in New 
York believes that soon there will be only women 
teaching in the schools. The Board of Education 
in New York declares that the teaching by women 
is equally satisfactory with that by men, and the 
Board of Cincinnati says it is superior. 
- «•■»♦»>» - 
NEWSPAPEBS. 
A teacher who has been using a newspaper as a 
portion of his material for the education of children, 
writes that the results, so far as have been reached, 
are of a very satisfactory kind. The scholars mani¬ 
fest an interest in preparing for the exorcises that 
is not likely to die out. AU the passing events and 
interests of the day, from the most trivial to the 
most profound, in our laud, and in all lands, are 
brought before the pupils’ minds. And since the 
Press—the Newspaper—is the World's Teacher, 
aud is destined to remain such for all coming time, 
it is well, it seems to us, that children should be 
habituated to look at it, and to learu how to regard 
and use it. Familiarity, therefore, with the News¬ 
paper, may be properly regarded as an important 
branch of every one’s practical education. Certain¬ 
ly, the habit of observing what is in the papers from 
day to day, besides adding to the general intelli¬ 
gence, must aid, almost insensibly, perhaps, in the 
formation and the strengthening of that most im¬ 
portant habit of retention. 
-- 
EITHEB AND NEITHEB. 
Richard Grant White, one of the moat scholarly 
writers of the age, has, in a recent number of the 
Galaxy, the following: 
“The analogically correct pronunciation of these 
words is what we call the Irish one, ayther and 
myther— the diphthong having the sound in it that 
it has in a large family of words in which the diph¬ 
thong et is the emphasized vowel sound — weight , 
freight , deign , vein, obeisance, etc. But ayther and 
nayther , being antiquated and Irish, analogy and the 
best usage require the common pronunciation either 
and ncelher. i or the pronunciation i-ther and ni-ther , 
with the i long, which is sometimes heard, there is 
not the authority either of analogy or the best 
speakers. It is an affectation, and, iu this country, 
! a co Py of a second-rate British. affectation. Persons of 
the best education and the highest social position in 
, England say eeth<r and neether 
We think the great majority of good speakers and 
-p liters will agree with Mr. White in this expression. 
ftnrMi'nly puuso it) his interesting narrations, aud 
begging pardon for his silence, would wait until 
they had passed beyond hearing ; for, said our vera¬ 
cious aud most agreeable Bensaken, “I cannot 
afford to let them fellows know what 1 have been 
learning ail these years of my life. I have forgot 
enough to set all of them up iu business.” 
“Did you know our countryman Washington 
Irving, when he was here ? " I inquired. 
“ O, yes, and a nice, worthy gentleman he was; 
so kind, so pleasant always; but he did not keep 
very closely to the facts: to tell you the truth, those 
are very beautiful stories of Mr. Irving, but the 
most of them are all in your eye, sir.” 
“ He speaks of the good people who lived here 
when he lodged in the Alhambra, and a fair maiden 
to whom he gave the name of Dolores, and a noble 
young man, Molina, or something like that; what 
ever became of them, can you tell me ? ” 
Bensaken gave a low little laugh, and said that 
Dolores was a coarse and dowdy drudge, whom 
the warm imagination of the author bad invested 
with purely rhetorical charms, and the other occu¬ 
pants of the palace had no claims to distinction. 
One of them whom he mentioned was murdered in 
a street brawl, and the whole family had passed 
into oblivion. Yet their names will live in the 
stories of the Alhambra while the genial and 
smoothly flowing pages of Irving are read as the 
pleasantest and most reliable account of the tradi¬ 
tions of this wondrous pile. 
-♦ .«♦»« »- 
THE GABDEN OF EDEN. 
If there be a part of the world which ought to 
tempt the traveler, it is assuredly that region of 
Asia which lies between the Caspian and Black Seas. 
Immemorial tradition declares this to be the cradle 
of the human race. Hore—say the Persians and 
Armenians — was the Garden of Eden; here, as one 
knows, stands the mighty Ararat, from which man¬ 
kind spread after the deluge. Here are the best 
and most undeniable physical evidences of that as¬ 
tonishing catastrophe. Here hunted the Biblical 
Nimrod, here Noah planted the vine. Here lan¬ 
guished Prometheus chained to the rock with vul¬ 
tures ever gnawing at his liver. Hither sailed Jason 
and the Argonauts, and hence departed the enchant¬ 
ress Mede, One of the rivers of this region still 
bears the name of Cyrus the great. Alexander of 
Macedou is a household word among the Caucasian 
villagers. Hence flowed, Greeceward, that stream 
of gorgeous fable which widened into Hellenic my¬ 
thology. Here Pompey conquered, and the soldiers 
of imperial Rome bled in vain. Here Gregory 
preached, and Tamerlane and Genghis Kahn spread 
havoc; the Turks uprooted the Genoese on these 
shores, to be themselves uprooted iu due time by 
the more opportune Russians. Over the Caucasian 
wall, at the dread hour when Allah’s time shall 
sound, Gog and Mugog shall cross to put an end to 
the empire of Islamism on earth, and destroy the 
kingdom of the true believers. When the Russians 
swept away the Georgian throne, in 1800, learned 
men at Tiflia exclaimed in their anguish that the 
fallen monarchy had existed without interruption 
since the time of Abraham; there is good historical 
evidence to prove a line of kings extending over a 
period of 2245 years. 
Nor does the future promise to be less interesting 
than the past. The burial-place of the Turks will 
evidently be here. This is the battle ground on 
which the last tight of pure Islamism will be 
fought; we can see even now the giant Russia 
drawing its grasp tighter and tighter round the 
throat of the effete nationalities of Turkey and 
journal:—"lhe opening of the railway and the 
overland travel between Europe and the East has 
already built up a town of fifteen thousand inhabi¬ 
tants at the upper end of the Red Sea. AU around 
is desert, but the water of the Nile haa beeu brought 
here and the great transformation haa commenced. 
You see a large railway statiou, three or four hotels 
offices of the Peninsula and Oriental Company, one 
hotel owned by them, where you can sit down to 
substantial beef and pudding just as if you were in 
a London hotel. The town is Egyptiau, narrow 
streets, houses built from dried brick and stone 
from the cliff's along the Red Sea, bayous like those 
of Cairo, a swarthy crowd of Arabs, Negroes, Nubi¬ 
ans, Hindoos, Italians, Spaniards, Germans, French¬ 
men, Englishmen, Russians, Turks, The English 
have the upper hands here, but everywhere else In 
Egypt French influence predominat es. The British 
government have recently erected] large hospital 
buildings here for invalids return eg from India, 
who may need nursing at this half way house.” 
fimflMSi lopes. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE NAMES OF DAYS. 
BY ELIZA WOODWORTH. 
Sunday.— So called because this day was anciently 
sacred to the worship of the sun. The Sabians, or 
adorers of the heavenly bodies, existed in very early 
times in the East, Chaldea, &c. From these coun¬ 
tries, thi6 form of idolatry was carried Into Europe, 
and adopted by onr Saxon forefathers who adhered 
to Sabianism until they embraced Cb ristiauity. In re¬ 
taining the heathen name their Pagan worship is still 
memorized by ns their Christian descendants. The 
word does not occur either in the Old or New Testa¬ 
ment. As Christ arose from the dead on this day, 
it has been observed as the Sabbath of rest, by his 
followers, with few exceptions, from the early 
Christian times. 
Monday.— [G. montag ,] or the day dedicated to the 
moon. The worship of this planet was very popu¬ 
lar among the ancients. It was generally adored as 
a goddess, but in Syria and Armenia as a god. The 
Egyptians called the idol represent!og it Isis; the 
Greeks, Diana, Hecate, Venus, &c. In some 
countries the forms observed were extremely cruel, 
and Strabo and Lucian state that human sacrifices 
were offered. Even the Hebrews presented obla¬ 
tions, though of a far more innocent character, to 
the moon, which they adored as Mbni. Jeremiah 
describes her worship as one which embraced all 
the members of a family,—in which the children 
gathered the wood, the fathers kindled the fire, 
and the women kneaded the dough “ to make cakes 
to the queen of heaven.” 
Tuesday.— From Thg, or Tmsco. This deity 
among the ancient Saxons, was the god of strife, and 
presided over wars and litigations. Formerly, and 
probably for this reason, the opening day of the 
assize always fell on Tuesday. Tna corresponded 
to the Grecian Mars. 
Wednesday.— From Woden, another Saxon god. 
He is thought to be synonymous with Mercury, 
one of the twelve principal deities, or ndbil.es deos , as 
Ovid calls them, who formed the great central sys¬ 
tem of ancient idolatry. 
Thursday.—Thor’s day, or the day dedicated to 
Thor. Among the Northern Pagans this deity was 
the god of thuuder; and he corresponds to the Jova 
or Jupiter of the Greeks and Romans. By onr 
rude forefathers, who trembled when they heard the 
awful voice of Thor, he was the most honored of 
the gods, aud they offered the most costly sacrifices 
at his shrine. 
Friday.— The day which was sacred to Frigga. 
This goddess was the Venus of the Saxons. 
Saturday. —The Sabbath of the Jews, and also 
of the Seventh-Day Baptists. Horae of the early 
Christians continued to observe this, iastead of the 
First, or Lord’s-Day; but by our Pagan ancestors 
it was consecrated to Saturn, [hence its present 
name,] one of the elder gods; the son of CLklus, 
| heaven,] and of Terra, [earth,] and the father of 
Jupiter. 
Thus we see that each of our days wears the bap¬ 
tismal title of its heathen chrism; and if ever nearly 
Pecuniarily considered, of course it does not 
pay to smoke. It, costs the world annually five 
hundred million dollars for tobacco. And this con¬ 
nects the use of the weed with higher considera¬ 
tions, for this comes out of the world’s surplus 
fund, out of which comes the means of extending 
civilization. In the United States, moreover, four 
hundred thousand acres of land are exhausted by 
tobacco, which should be devoted to grain for the 
thousands who have needed it the past winter. 
Oue strong point made by Mr. Parton is that to¬ 
bacco is the enemy of women. Not only because 
its filthiness keeps men away from the sex and 
makes them seek the company of each other to in¬ 
dulge the habit, but because it destroys manhood. 
The point is simply this:—Tobacco, by disturbing 
and impairing vitality, tends to vitiate the relations 
between the sexes, tends to lessen man's interest in 
woman and his enjoyment of her society, aud en¬ 
ables him to endure aud be contented with, and 
finally even to prefer the compauionship of men. 
Put that thought into your pipe and smoke it. 
Among the great men of our country who did 
not smoke, were Washington, Franklin and Jeffer¬ 
son. Washington Irving was not a smoker, though 
uobody ever drew such delightful pictures of lusty 
Von Twillers enveloped iu clouds of tobacco smoke. 
Ga-the never smoked, nor could he have smoked 
and remained Goethe, The man so perfect iu body, 
so lofty and splendid in intellect, and so grand in 
character, could not have been a smoker. 
- ♦-« •» « ■ » - 
FRENCH BABIES. 
Babies have rather a hard time of it in France. 
Owing to the enormous rents, particularly in PariB, 
which reader it desirable that families at home 
should be as small as possible, and to the general 
employment of women in shops among the lower 
classes, and their excessive devotion to fashion in 
the higher, there is an almost universal custom 
of handing infants over to nurses. This is gen¬ 
erally done through agencies, or, as they might be 
called, baby brokers, who keep the poor little crea¬ 
tures at their own houses on food which either kills 
them or produces chronic gastric disorders, until 
they can make a good bargain with some neighbor¬ 
ing nurses. Of the 58,400 children yearly born in 
Paris, 18,000 are put out to nurse in the provinces, 
more than two-thirds through the instrumentality 
of the “agency offices.” The mortality among 
these nurslings is 90 per cent, in one district, 87 in 
another, 00 in a third, and so on. No wonder the 
population of France takes 108 years to double. In 
our country, nearly one-third of the deaths are 
those of children under live years of age; so that 
it would seem, at the best, that the life-tenure of 
the little ones is precarious enough. But in France 
their destruction is truly terrible. 
- <■! »» > » - 
HOW TO GO TO SLEEP. 
The following is given in Bltnn’s Anatomy of 
Sleep, or the urt of procuring sound aud refreshing 
slumber at will, published in London in 1843. The 
principal feature of Blinn’s system is for the pa¬ 
tient to fix his attention on his own breathing; 
He must depict to himself that he sees the I 
breath passing from his nostrils in a continuous 
stream, and the very Instant that he brings his 
mind to conceive this, apart from all other ideas, 
consciousness and memory depart; imagination 
slumbers; faney becomes dormant; thought sub¬ 
dued; the sentient faculties lose their suscepti¬ 
bility; the vital or ganglionic system assumes sov¬ 
ereignty, and he no longer wakes, but sleeps.” 
A newspaper writer says he has practiced the 
above for years whenever nature needed any assist¬ 
ance. and can fully endorse the prescription. It 
will put any one to sleep who has not an evil con¬ 
science, a jumping tooth, or a bank note past due. 
--»’«-» < ■ »- 
An Ancient Structure.—' The oldest building in 
Albany is the Staats Building, on the corner of State 
and Pearl streets. It was built in 1600 just 302 
years ago. It was upwards of seventy yearn old 
when Washington was born. When the old house 
was built Charles II. was King of Englaud, while 
the whole population of this State (then a British 
colony) was less than 100,000. The old house is in 
a good state of preservation, and with a little paint 
now and then, will last a thousand years yet. 
[qjggp 
FUNEEAL OF A BEE. 
Sometimes when a pet kitten dies, or a dog, or 
maybe only a little chick, the boy or girl who dearly 
prized it when it was alive calls in the aid of one or 
two other boys or girls, and gives the dead pet a sor¬ 
rowful burial, down in the garden, or out in the 
orchard under some favorite tree. A good many 
tears are shed, perhaps,— alf any rate we remember 
shedding a good many, when a very small boy, over 
the burial of a four-footed friend,—and the funeral 
is doubtless as sad an one as older people ever take 
part in. It is not common, though, to see animals 
or insects burying their dead comrades, yet such in¬ 
stances have been known. Above we give a picture 
of a bee funeral, which some gentlemen once wit¬ 
nessed. Two bees were seen coming out of a hive, 
bearing the body of another bee. The gentlemen 
followed them closely and noted the care with which 
they selected a convenient hole at the side of a 
gravel walk — the tenderness with which they com¬ 
mitted the body, head downwards, to the earth — 
and the solicitude with which they afterwards pushed 
a gainst it two little stones, doubtless “inmemoriam.” 
Their task being ended, they paused about a minute, 
perhaps to drop over the grave a sympathising tear, 
when they flew away. 
-»- 
WHAT THE SUNBEAM SAW. 
“Stay, dear sunbeam,” murmured a bright wood- 
lily, as the sunshine danced in, one summer day, 
among the pine-tree branches. “Stay a while and 
reBt upon ibis bright carpet of moss, and tell me a 
story. It is so quiet here to-day, in the forest, that 
I am almost asleep. I wish I could get out into the 
world, and see some of the fine sights there. What 
a gay time yon must have of it, dancing about wher¬ 
ever you please from morning till night! ” 
“Nay,” said the sunbeam, “1 cannot stop to tell 
yon all 1 have seen; but, if you eare to hear it, I will 
tell yon what was the prettiest sight of all." I 
“Do,” said the wood-lily, bending her graceful 
head to listen. 
“ J- was kissing away the tears that the night had 
left upon a cluster of climbing roses that overhung 
a cottage window,” said the sunbeam, “wheal 
heard the sweet sound of children’s volees. I looked 
within and saw two dear little girls at play. Many 
pretty toys were scattered about the room, and each 
of the little ones had a doll clasped in her chubby 
arms. I thought them lovelier than the flowers in 
the garden, and their happy voices made sweeter 
music than the birds. By-and-by they put up their 
sweet lips and kissed each other, while I hovered 
over them with delight, caressing their cheeks and 
turning their brown curlB to shining gold.” 
“A pretty sight, indeed, that must have been,” 
said the wood-lily. 
“ And now,” continued the sunbeam, “shallI tell 
you the saddest sight that I have seen to-day ? ” 
The wood-lily bent her head still lower. 
“ I went again to see the dear children, and to give 
them my parting blessing; but I found them, alas! 
how changed! Harsh words issued from their rose¬ 
bud lips, frowns clouded their fair white brows, and 
their little hands were raised in anger." 
“ That was a sad sight, surely,” said the lily. 
“A sad sight!” murmured the summer wind 
through the pine boughs. 
“ A sad sight! ” breathed a cluster of violets, 
while tears fell from theiv blue eyes into the little 
stream beside which they grew. 
“A sad sight!” echoed the rippling stream. 
“A sad sight!” sang the birds in the branches. 
So it was as if a gloom had suddenly settled itself 
over the forest, and all because of the sad story the 
sunbeam had told. 
Have a care, dear children, that no bright sunbeam 
ever has so sad a tale to tell of you.— Children's llottr, ' 
[From the Song Garden , (second book,) published by Mason Brothers. 
2 . 
In the fresh and dewy morning, 
La la la, he. 
When the first grey light is dawning, 
La la la, &c. 
Waking from my peaceful slumber, 
Loud resounds my cheerful song ; 
Up the mountain then I clamber 
With my sheep u happy throng. 
La la la, Ac. 
3. 
Free from envy ever living, 
La la la, &c. 
Never with a brother striving, 
La la la, &c. 
Though the shepherd’s lot be lowly, 
Yet content I well may be; 
If my store increase but slowly, 
Every day has joys for me. 
La la la, &c. 
La la la, 
La la la. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
OUT FOR A RAMBLE. 
The apple tree blossoms arc white a? snow. 
Their perfumes in at the window blow, 
dome, babie, we will a gypsying go 
Out In the fields together; 
The pansies and buttercups open their eyes, 
The violets tremble in glad surprise, 
And the honey bee hums as lie gathers his prize 
From the flowers, this sunny weather. 
Ah, babio, well I remember a day 
As warm and fair, a morn In May 
When the sun was bright, and the fields as gay, 
When the birds all sang together —; 
But we must away, while the sky Is bright 
And the buttercups rhino with the golden light, 
For those fleecy clouds In the south, so white, 
May bring ns rainy weather. 
Porter, N. Y., 1888. E 
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