“ MY LIFE IS FULL OF WEARY DAYS.” 
BY GEOKQK WtlXOtTGHBY. 
Not no with me I not so wlih me! 
No weary days, no weary days 
Enshroud my soul's gay imagery 
lu gloom that tints the brightest rays 
With stains of woe. 
Not so, not so ! 
An imagery that myriad shades 
It pictures in this world ot mine. 
Of fancied forms, and brooks and glades. 
Of peace and flowers that bloom and twine 
For thee and me. 
For me and thee. 
My life Is full of golden days, 
Short, flitting, kissed by sun and breeze; 
Glad ns Joy in a thousand ways. 
Gay as birds oil the budding trees 
That sing, that sing. 
In the early spring! 
Ah, weary days will be weary years. 
And filled with weary sighs and cares; 
And the painful hour of toil and fears. 
Or the pang of grief, hut U1 prepares 
For the Home SO blest 
Of Eternal Rest. 
Oh, my days are full of a happy theme. 
And I drink, 1 lave in n wondrous spring. 
Whoso bubbling font Is the constant stream 
Of a Trust, a Trust that shall ever cling, 
Dear One, to thee. 
To thee, to thee 1 
And happier still, when these days are o'er, 
And these earthly notes are eternal songs! 
0 the blissful hour, when forever more 
The Dealer shall heal my stab and wrongs, 
And give mine to me 
For Eternity! 
- 4 ♦ » 
THE MOTHERS' COLUMN. 
[Tnu article entitled “A Plen for the Inno¬ 
cents, by A. S. G., and our comments thereupon, 
(in l ho Rukal Nkw-Yoiikkii of March 4,) have 
called out several excellent responses, two or 
three of which we subjoin.—E ds.] 
THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 
Dear Rural : —I was glad to see the sug¬ 
gestion of a Mothers' Column in your paper, 
for I feel that we mothers need all the help 
and encouragement we can obtain from 
every quarter. Surely one who lias a family 
of children entrusted to her care, need not 
siglt for a higher sphere. All the culture, 
physical, moral and intellectual, that any one 
can attain, is needful in order to fulfill well the 
duties of such a position. A mother daily 
needs the wisdom of Solomon, the patience 
of Job, and the grace of all the Bible wor¬ 
thies. Not only must she enter heartily into 
the joys and sorrows of each child, in order 
to win their full confidence, but she must do 
this judiciously, lest they may learn to con¬ 
sider their comfort the supreme object In life. 
It has been my experience that precept 
and example alone, arc not always sufficient 
to render a child unselfish, lie must lie 
compelled to acts ot self denial, until he 
knows, by experience, the superior happi¬ 
ness which follows a generous deed. No 
two children can he treated exactly alike; 
their individuality must always he recog¬ 
nized. Constant study of character and 
constant watchfulness are needful in order 
to wisely direct our children. Alas! how 
many of us fall short of our high standard 
because of human weakness I But, mothers, 
do not he discouraged or grow weary. We 
are only required to do according to our 
strength. Let us, then, depending on Divine 
aid, labor unceasingly to train our little ones 
“ in the way they should go,” that when 
they are old they “ will not depart from it,” 
knowing that the reward will he sure—a 
wide-spread influence and immortal honor. 
THE DUTY AND MISSION OF MOTHERS. 
Reading in the Rural New-Yorker of 
March 4 " A Plea for the Innoceiils,” I beg 
permission to add my mite to the Mothers’ 
Column. 
Mothers, let us strive to make our homes 
pleasant for the little ones. Remember they 
are a precious charge entrusted to our care, 
and we know not liovv long we shall have 
them with us. Even should they live to ar¬ 
rive at the age of maturity, it seems but a 
short time then that we are permitted to en¬ 
joy their society. Let us endeavor to per¬ 
form well our part, that when they go forth 
into the cold, selfish world, they may carry 
with them pleasant memories of home. We 
should labor to build up for our children 
homes that will not be easily exchanged for 
the vices that abide in the outer world. In 
my heart I believe that a great portion of the 
crime committed is owing, in a measure, to 
the evil influences cast around t.bu criminals 
in their earlier days. Children are tender, 
sensitive plants, and very susceptible of good 
and evil. 
Again, some parents do not show affection 
enough for their children—are forever see¬ 
ing their faults, but never seeing their good 
deeds. God pity and help the children of 
such parents! We know that life would 
soon become a burden were ice denied the 
companionship of loving, trusting ones, 
This is emphatically true of children. They 
hunger perpetually for the love and con¬ 
fidence ot their parents ; and if these be de¬ 
nied them at home, they will almost invari¬ 
ably seek for them elsewhere. Many young 
men who are to-day reeling through the 
streets, clothed iu rags, penniless and with¬ 
out friends, might have been respectable 
citizens, had their parents hut exercised 
more love and been more considerate in 
their management while young. Mothers, 
give the clear oues the love of your hearts— 
true and undivided, as a parent's love for a 
child should be —and you will reap your re¬ 
ward, and be recompensed in a ten-fold pro¬ 
portion. I believe religious education is too 
generally neglected by parents. We have 
the Divine command, 11 Thou slialt teach 
them diligentlyaucl it is our duty to en¬ 
lighten them in regard to Gospel truths. 
We should instruct them iu the true nature 
of prayer—teach them to “ lean upon the 
Arm that is strong and never failetb.” 
Oh, childhood !—bright, beautiful, innocent 
childhood !—how soon will sin enter into 
their hearts, no matter how well we do our 
duty. We expect it ami yet we can allevi¬ 
ate it, if we hut try. I believe if mothers 
perform well their part within the family 
sanctum they are serving God and their 
country more faithfully than if they cast a 
million votes annually at the ballot box. 
Oh. mothers 1 is not our mission a noble 
oue, i#we but fuithfully perform it? God 
help us to do our work well. 
I have three “ olive branches,” and they 
all look forward each week with interest lor 
the coining of the dear Rural. 
Wamesro, Kansas, 1871. Mas. M. II. 
WOMEN’S AND CHILDREN’S RIGHTS. 
Dear Rural; —I am glad A. 8. G. has 
spoken out in regard to Children's Rights. 
In this day of Women’s Rights and Men’s 
Wrongs, (poor creatures, we pily them,) the 
Blessed Babies are forgotten, or wliat is 
equivalent, are left to hired nurses, and 
drugged with soothing sirups and paregoric. 
They are fed, in season and out of season, 
upon indigestible corn starch puddings or 
cracker soups, and smothered under the bed¬ 
clothes, until some fine day they are attacked 
with spasms or cholera infantum, and of 
course the family physician is called in, 
who blisters and purges until tired nature 
gives up the contest, and their sufferings are 
over. Nothing hut the little garments they 
wear, and the doctor’s hill, are left to remind 
us of the innocent one whom our own igno¬ 
rance of the simplest laws of our being (and 
not mysterious Providence) has sent to an 
untimely grave. 
It is unmistakably one right of a child to 
he taken care of by its own mo* her—to lay 
in her arms, to take its sustenance from her, 
and not from a disgusting nursing bottle, as 
is now the prevailing style. And I believe 
it, is one of the rights, yes, the duty, of a wo¬ 
man to study the anatomy of herself and 
child—to study to keep well by not trans¬ 
gressing the laws of nature, and to know 
how to use those simple remedies in the 
reach of all,—aud with a moderate use of 
common sense, (soap and water included,) 
clothing the extremities warmly, allowing 
plenty of out-door exercise. And above all, 
make home attractive and pleasant—a place 
that when the little ones grow up and leave 
the old nest, they may think of with yearn¬ 
ing hearts, as the dearest and best beloved 
spot on earth, because mother is there. 
Oh, Sisters, strive for this! God did not 
make us to sit in legislative halls; lie de¬ 
signed us to comfort, to cheer, to make the 
homes of our husbands and children beauti¬ 
ful and winning—to rear our daughters pure, 
intelligent and useful members of society— 
to rear our sons strong and tender, and brave 
to defend the right. And we deny our wo¬ 
manhood when we fritter away our time try¬ 
ing to obtain our “ rights,” when we have 
them all. God help us to use them as we 
ought ! Sara B. 
- 4 -*-*- 
GEMS AND PEARLS. 
Knowledge, truth, love, beauty, good¬ 
ness, faith, alone give vitality to the mechan¬ 
ism of existence. The laugh of mirth which 
vibrates through the heart; the tears which 
freshen the dry wastes within; the music 
which brings childhood hack; the prayer 
that calls the future near; the doubt which 
makes us meditate ; the death which startles 
us with its mystery; the hardships that 
force us to struggle; the anxiety that ends 
in trust—these are the nourishments of our 
nature. 
Skill, wisdom, and even wit are cumu¬ 
lative ; but that diviner faculty, which is the 
spiritual eye, though it may he trained and 
sharpened, cannot be added to by taking 
thought.— Loicell. 
Nothing lives in literature hut that which 
has in it the vitality of creative art; and it 
would be safe advice to the young to read 
nothing hut wlmt is old.— Whipple. 
Politeness is, in business, what strata¬ 
gem is in war. It gives power to weakness; 
it supplies great deficiencies. It is invincible 
either in the attack or defense. 
It is not disgraceful to any one who is 
poor to confess his povertv'; but the not ex¬ 
erting one’s self to escape poverty is dis¬ 
graceful.— Pericles. 
Jfor 11 
liming jJcoplc. 
ALL THE CHILDREN. 
I suppose if alt the clilldi'en 
Win have lived through ages long 
Were collected and Inspected, 
They would mated a wondrous throng. 
Oh. ttie babble of the Babel! 
Oh. the flutter of the fuss! 
To begin with Gain and Abel, 
And to llnlsli up with us. 
Think of all the men and women 
Who are now and who have been, 
Every nation slnoe creation 
TbuL this world of ours lias seen; 
And ol all of them, not any 
But was once a baby small; 
While of children, oh, how many 
Never have grown up ut all! 
Some have never laughed or spoken, 
Never used their rosy feet; 
Some have even flown to heaven 
Ere they knew that earth was sweet. 
And Indeed, l wonder whether. 
If we reckon ev'ry birth, 
And bring such a flock together, 
There is room for them on earth? 
Who will wash their smiling faces? 
Who their saucy ears will box? 
Who will dras* them, und caress them ? 
Who will darn their little socks? 
Where are arms enough to hold them? 
Hands to pat each shlulnghead? 
Who will praise them? who will scold them? 
Who will pack them off to bed? 
Little, happy Christian children, 
Little savage children too. 
In all stages of all ages 
That our planet ever knew— 
Little priuoes and princesses. 
Little beggars wan and l'alnt; 
Some In very handsome drosses. 
Naked some, bedaubed with paint. 
Only think of the confusion 
Such a motley crowd would make; 
Aud the clatter at their chatter, 
And tho things that they would break 1 
Oh. the babbel of the lluliol I 
Oh, the flutter of the fuss I 
To begin with Cain and Abel, 
And to finish off with us. 
-» ♦ » - - 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
[Quit young epistolariana have been so much 
neglected of late that we give them most of our 
space this week, and will try to make further 
amonds lu future.— Eds.] 
A Good Juvenile Cook. 
I am a little girl, aucl will he ten years old 
next August. I got, supper all by myself 
tliis evening—without anybody to show me 
any. Our cook went off yesterday, and 
mamma was too unwell to cook. I had corn 
hatter cakes, biscuit, coffee, and broiled ham 
and eggs. Papa said it was the best supper 
lie had eaten in a long time. There are five 
of us in all, besides oux^-ervant boy; and 
this is how I did : 
I took two pints of flour, sifted it, then put 
in it. a teaspoonful of salt, half as much soda, 
and a lahlespoonful of lard, and rubbed all 
up well iu the dry flour. I then added 
enough buttermilk to make the dough right 
—about a pint—then worked the lumps till 
it was all well mixed—rolled it out, and cut 
out my biscuit, and baked in a hot oven. 
For my batter cakes 1 took a quart of meal, 
added a teaspoonful of salt, and a half one 
of Boda—stirred into it an egg, and heat; then 
put in buttermilk to make a thin batter— 
greased the baker and spread on with a 
spoon — cooked quick. 1 boiled my eggs 
four minutes. My coffee 1 ground, added 
the white of one egg, und stirred in a small 
quantity of cold water; then put all in a 
coffee pot, and added hot water, and put on 
to boil slowly for thirty minutes, which 
causes the coffee to give out all its strength. 
I got this supper in less than one hour, be¬ 
sides making the fire aud carrying the water 
from the cistern. We once owned plenty 
of slaves to cook, but the war took them 
away from us, and now we often have to do 
the best we can, but I am not ashamed to 
learn.— Eliza A. H., Stanford, Ky., 1871. 
Reply to tlin Imliiiu (ilrl'a Letter. 
Wild Rose:—1 wits glancing over the 
Rural New-Yorker this evening, aud 
happened to see your letter. 1 never thought 
of answering the letters in the paper before, 
hut something prompted me to answer yours, 
it was so wild, so romantic. As I am some¬ 
what of that nature myself, it filled my soul 
with a longing to visit that fur off land. 
How I would like to be with you, to roam 
on the hanks of that river on which your 
home is situated, aud ride in your bark 
canoe. From my earliest recollections, 
while sitting on my grandmother's knee, I 
have been told of tho unbounded freedom 
of the Indians. It always filled me with 
wonder and delight. 1 almost envy you 
your wild home. You can roam through 
the woods at your ease, bare-headed and 
hare-footed if you choose—wading in the 
brook with no prying eyes to arrest your 
happy enjoyment, while we are shut up in 
the dirty city through all those summer 
days, compelled to be dressed so precise, just 
for appearance sake, not for enjoyment. 
1 am at present going to school at the 
Crawfordsville Seminary; there are about 
seven hundred pupils. Wild Rose, why 
not come to Indiana and go to school with 
me? 1 will give you a hearty welcome, and I 
know we would be friends. * * * I 
have one sister and one brother, my brother 
being the black-eyed pet of the household. 
Rose, would you like to correspond with a 
“ Hoosier” girl? If so, please answer this, 
from your far-away friend, Clara E. Mil¬ 
ler, Cmicfordscille, Indiana. 
Co i'll’a Slx-Slilcd Sofa I’illow. 
Dear Friend Editor:—I have written 
to you once and endeavor to write again. 1 
am living at my aunt’s and going to school. 
I sew on a sewing machine. 1 have a nice 
pattern for a Sofa Pillow with six sides, 
(like the drawing.) It is made of silk pieces. 
Cut the pieces a little larger than the pat¬ 
tern. Cut a piece of paper size of the pattern 
and baste your silk on the paper; then 
sew the blocks together, one in the middle 
and six around the edge. Make your pillow 
any size you wish. Bet your blocks together 
with black silk—the rest shaded in with 
fancy colors. Don’t huve any two colors 
alike in your blocks. This makes a very 
nice as well as useful ornament. You cau 
have your pillow stuffed with anything you 
like, and the under side covered with what 
you please. Silk cord and tassels may be 
added if liked. 
Can auv of the Rural friends tell me how 
to make corn starch cake?—and how to 
make feather flowers ?— Cora P., Eden, N. T. 
From n. KnimiiN Farmer's Hoy. 
Dear Mr. Editor: — 1 have been very 
much interested in the Boys’ and Girls’ De¬ 
partment of the Rural New-Yorker, but 
I don’t think there is enough of it. We 
have nearly a section of land, and 150 head 
of cattle and twelve head of horses. My 
brother and 1 have to herd them. I am 
twelve years old. We have two houses; 
one is in front of the other. One of them 
is a stockade. 1 suppose some of you don’t 
know wliat a stockade is. It is made by 
digging a trench und setting posts on end in 
it, close together, chinking up the cracks 
with sticks, and then mudding it inside and 
out. The roof is made of logs covered 
with earth. This makes a very comfortable 
home, if not a nice one. We. have a dairy 
of twenty-four cows, and made 8,000 pounds 
of butter last summer. We have wild flow¬ 
ers from the first of March until September. 
—Francis Sterndkrg, Fort Harker, Kan. 
Anna's Ree',»e for a C'lienp (take, 
Mr. Editor— Dear Sir : 1 tun a little girl 
thirteen years old. 1 live iu the country 
with my mother and brother. We live in a 
country house, but for all that I think it 
very pleasant, for we have only to step 
across the road and are in the woods—a 
place which I love to be in in the spring, 
summer or fall. I will give a recipe for 
Cheap Cake: 
Take one teacupful of sugar, also one of 
cream, two eggs, a teaspoonful of soda; 
flavor with lemon. This will make one 
good-sized cake. This is the first I ever 
wrote for a paper, so please excuse all mis¬ 
takes.— Anna T., Erie Co., N. 7. 
A Siimll Euuine Wanted. 
Mr. Moore :—I am a boy of fifteen years 
of age, and we have taken your Rural 
New-Yorker for several years. I have no¬ 
ticed that some of the hoys have written 
some inquiries to your paper, so I thought 
that I would. Will some of your many 
writers please to he so kind as to inform me 
through the Rural New-Yorker how to 
make an engine that will produce power 
enough to run a turning lathe? Also to 
send me a sketch of it and the particulars ? 
If some one will be so kind as to answer 
this, I will try and do as much in return 
some time.— Frank, Moravia, New York, 
- 444 
A SENSIBLE YOUNG MAN. 
The late Col. Colt was himself a practical 
mechanic. By his will he left to his nephew 
an immense fortune. At the time of Colt's 
death the nephew was learning his trade of 
machinist in his uncle’s shop, working dili¬ 
gently in his overalls by day, subject to the 
same rules os other apprentices. On his 
uncle’s death he became a millionaire; but 
choosing a guardian to manage his property, 
he continued at his labor aucl served his ap¬ 
prenticeship. Now as he walks the rooms 
of his fine house, or drives his handsome 
aud costly team, he has a consciousness that 
if his riches take to themselves wings and 
fly away, he is furnished with the means of 
getting an honest livelihood, and may make 
a fortune for liimselt. 
- 4 -*-*- 
The entire alphabet is found in these tour 
lines. Some of the children may like to 
learn them: 
God jfives the j?razin>? ox his meat. 
He quickly hears the sheep’s low cry. 
But man who tastes his finest wheat. 
Should Joy to lift His praises high. 
oo 
abbati] Uniting. 
THE SILENT LAND. 
Into the Silent Land ! 
Ah, who shall lead us thltliar ? 
Clouds In tho evening sky more darkly gather, 
And shattered wrecks lie thicker on tho strand. 
Who leads us with u gentle hand 
Thither, O, thither, 
Into the Silent Land ? 
To you, ye boundless regions 
Of nil perfections! Tender morning visions 
Of beauteous souls? The Future’s pledge and hand 
Who iu Lite's battle tlrm doth stand, 
Shall bear Hope’s tender blossoms 
Into the Silent Land ! 
O Land I O Land I 
For ull the broken hearted 
The mildest herald by our fate allotted 
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand 
To load us with ft gentle hand 
Into the land of tho great departed, 
into the Silent Land. 
[Henri/ IV. Longfellmu. 
—- 4 - 4-4 - 
ABOUT A COMMON SIN. 
The Examiner and Chronicle, which is 
given to plain speaking and practical topics, 
deals with what it calls the very “ common 
sin” of falsehood, aud applies the principle, 
which it lays down in this way:—“This 
disposition to deal falsely in social und busi¬ 
ness relations shows itself on every hand, 
and in all sorts of ways. It is seen in the 
merchant, who unhlusUIngly misrepresents 
the character of his goods, or gives short 
weight or measure; in the journalist, who 
garbles or misstates the views of others ; in 
the workman, who slights his work and then 
conceals Its defects; in social life, where a 
multitude of artifices are employed—some¬ 
times, it is true, with tin; most amiable in¬ 
tentions—to make things more smooth and 
agreeable. The gamut of falsehood is a long 
one, with innumerable variations of tone, 
from the coarse, rude ‘lie direct’ to the cour¬ 
teous prevarication of refined society. But 
we fear that in the eye of Him who is called 
the ‘God of truth,’ they are all alike lies— 
no more, no less.” 
- 44-4 - 
WORDS OF WISDOM. 
I should not know what to do with eter¬ 
nal bliss, if it did not offer me new problems 
and difficulties to he masteved Goethe. 
He only is advancing in life whose heart 
is getting softer, whose blood warmer, whose 
brain quicker, whose spirit is entering into 
living peace.— Raskin. 
Better is lie who is above temptation, 
than he who, being tempted, overcomes, 
since the latter hut suppresses tho evil in¬ 
clination stirring in his breast which the 
former has not.— Alcott. 
All true religion is a sense of want; and 
where want goes to sleep upon possession, 
it becomes bewildered, and when occasion¬ 
ally opening its eyes, sees nothing with the 
clearness of reality.— Murttncau. 
Ik an angel were sent from heaven to find 
the most perfect man, he would probably not 
find him com [losing a body of divinity, but 
■ perhaps a cripple in a poorhouse, whom the 
parish wish dead, and humbled before God 
with far lower thoughts of himself than 
Others think of him.— Newton. 
Meditation is prayer's handmaid, to wait 
on it, both before and after the performance. 
It is as the plow before the sower, to pre¬ 
pare the heart for the duty of prayer, and 
the harrow to cover the seed when ’tis 
sown. As the hopper feeds the mill with 
grist, so does meditation supply the heart 
with matter for prayer.— GurnaU. 
It is essential to our growth, as individuals 
and as society, that we should not have cer- 
1 tainly—that faith should be elective, and not 
1 the inevitable result of evidence acting with 
mechanical compulsion on the mind. It is 
' the liability to error and the experience of 
1 error that make us human, that furnish to 
human nature the topics of discipline and 
1 the means of growth.— Hedge. 
The seemingly unimportant events of life 
succeed oue another as the snow gathers to¬ 
gether; so are our habits formed, A single 
j flake produces no material change; but as 
the tempest hurls the avalanche down the 
s mountain, and overwhelms the inhabitant 
f and his habitation, so passion, acting upon 
the element of mischief, which pernicious 
habits have brought together by impercepti¬ 
ble accumulations, overthrows the edifice of 
t truth aud virtue .—Jeremy Bentham. 
No process is so fatal as that which would 
’ cast all men into one mold. Every human 
3 being is intended to have a character of his 
e own, to he what, no other is, to do what no 
, other can do. Our common nature is to he 
j unfolded lu unbounded diversities. It is rich 
{ enough for infinite manifestations. It is to 
wear innumerable forms of beauty and glory. 
Every human being has a work to carry on 
within, duties to perform abroad, influences 
r to exert, which are peculiarly Ids, and which 
j no conscience hut his own can teach. Let 
him not enslave his conscience toothers, but 
act with the freedom, strength and dignity 
ef one whose highest law is in his own breast. 
— Channing. 
