f Oh, dear! will not some Yankee invent 
£r'itTf c i llrrrf-Hrmrrr that mirror and advertise for local agents? 
>' ^|) * Saginaw City, Mich., April, 1871. 
cv ^ 
'Til* AH 
PLAYFUL CHILDREN. 
addressed to va. rents. 
_A.be your little children playful ? 
Let them well enjoy their glee; 
Darken not their path with sorrow— 
Let them happy, playful be. 
Earth’s bright Spring flowers they are to you, 
Let them Joyful be and gay ; 
Clouds full soon will veil their faces, 
Make them happy while you may. 
Let their bright, sweet faces cheer you 
Dally like the flowers of Spring: 
Strive to mulce them nice a sunbeam, 
And their hearts to you will cling. 
True, you may sometimes be weary, 
If their plays are loud or long ; 
Gently hush their gleeful voices. 
Tune their mirth to some sweet song. 
Teach them of the precious Saviour, 
Tell thorn of Redeeming love ; 
Cheerful let them think of JK3C9, 
And n happy home above. 
If you thus will scatter Bunsliine 
Bound each young and trusting heart. 
You may hope they’ll love their Maker, 
And He’ll to them Joy impurt. K. 
KEY NOTES-MAJOR AND MINOR. 
BY GRACE GLENN. 
No. 3.—Habltx and Principles. 
By the low side window lo which so few 
people ever think of looking up, I sit when 
the talking Instruments on the table have 
uothiug to say lo me or I to them,—and 
gather from the two short bits of street in 
sight from it, pictures changeful as clouds in 
the summer sky, and they help to a good 
deal of restful thinking when one wants to 
"orget one’s own self and selfish ness. 
There are homely faces positively good 
looking, and handsome faces which have not 
a good look,—richly dressed people who ap¬ 
pear shabby and uncouth, and humbly dress¬ 
ed people Who look neat and comely. There 
are quiet faces that hold a wealth of smiles, 
and smiling faces that shut, in sighs and tears. 
Frank, honest, faces, and pinched, intriguing 
faces,—lazy, insipid faces, and faces earnest 
and careworn. Faces full of sensitive timidi¬ 
ty, as if afraid of appropriating more than 
their share of Lite world’s good, and faces 
that have no heart at all behind them, and 
are only determined to get their share, let 
who will be in the way. These are the ripe 
faces, and we read and criticise and ask no 
questions; but they are the young, unfin¬ 
ished models of manhood and womanhood, 
that make the head grow heavy with won¬ 
dering over them. 
The little children at play on the street are 
learning cruel lessons, lmt they are so young 
yet and have learned so little, some of that 
may lie unlearned,—but the habits that are 
hardening upon the souls and bodies, and 
the principles striking roots into the hearts 
of those in their teens and twenties, are 
what will characterize them as old men and 
women, 
1 think if 1 were to decide a question of 
marriage on either side, all other arguments 
would fall behind this one idea of the test of 
age. What will he or she lie when the flush 
of early affection lias faded, and tiie influ¬ 
ence of the coveted blush and smile have be¬ 
come secondary to self-love, and natural, or 
earlier acquired proclivities, — when those 
principles, borrowed from the wishes of oth¬ 
ers, may be cast aside by the chances of an¬ 
ger and disappointment, and connler-princi- 
ples from other sources,—and originality as¬ 
serts itself with the power of prior claims, 
If it were not so idle I could wisli some¬ 
times that a magic mirror might, come before 
people, which could 9how them glimpses of 
themselves as they are to lie, year by year, 
as they go forward toward the grave, or 
rather as they might be if they would. Not 
simply how they may die, that will be but 
one brief sceue, but how they are going to 
live among the friends and foes of home, 
social and public circles, but most especially 
what shall be their bearing and style among 
those most intimately affected by and inter¬ 
ested in them, for which they are day by day 
molding themselves now. 
It doesn’t look so very bad to 6ee a young 
man with a cigar iu his lips after we get 
used to it and make up our minds that way; 
and above all things, girls, never ask a man 
to promise anything of self-sacrifice for your 
sake, and then risk one iota of your bappi- 
ness upon that promise, for you will some 
av be surely disappointed; but the smok¬ 
ing, snuffing, spitting, brown-toothed, lip- 
stanieu old gentleman by the home fire- 
S'v e, w here rooms and cfolhing smell of the 
o ia. < (i smudge to every healthy nose that 
comes near them, is not a picture we like to 
i.ur , ay-dreams over, with these handsome 
, i0 ‘ 9 111 And I wonder if these same 
boys ever stop to think what fault-finding, 
gossipping, scolding old slovens of house¬ 
keepers—some of these frizzled, ruffled, 
n need, 1,tlIe ’ deling fashion-dummies 
are going to he by-and-by, or if the sweet, 
unm me loafers ever thought of it them- 
Saginaw City, Mich., April, 1871. 
-- 
THE HONEYMOON. 
Few will admit that they need any advice 
in the honeymoon; fewer still will take it. 
Most young persons think, “ Well, it is hard 
if we may not be left to ourselves at such a 
season !” And yet, perhaps, if we took the 
experienfl© of the many on this subject, they 
would aifchit that the honeymoon lias been 
the time of all others when they have beeu 
lea9t able to help themselves. 
Is it too much to say that during those two 
months the happiness or the misery of two 
young lives is very nearly settled? Well, 
perhaps that is too much to say, for errors 
and misconceptions may be lived down, and 
habits may be formed or broken after the 
honeymoon, in the course of years. But still 
much is often decided, we will not suy in the 
first few months, but even in the first few 
days. Little tilings are decided in little 
ways, and neither understand that “ it is the 
little rift within the lover's lute ” that has 
begun to show even on the first day. 
Patience, patience on both sides is needed 
—but especially on the man’s side, for he is 
the stronger vessel, and knows life. At the 
bottom of her bean his young wife wants to 
please him; but she cannot bear him out of 
her sight—he must account for every mo¬ 
ment. His ways are incomprehensible. Why 
does he want to go out for ten minutes after 
dinner for a stroll? Why does lie prefer 
spending an hour or two down stairs with an 
old friend at night to going up into the draw¬ 
ing-room. Why does lie want to see the pa¬ 
pers at the club, iustcad of going out, after a 
bard day in the city, for a little afternoon 
shopping? Man ia a mystery to many a 
young girl for the first few months after mar¬ 
riage. She has not learned that a man’s in¬ 
terests are and must be various. 
We hear a good deal about incompatibility 
of temper—we believe very little in it. The 
sexes are almost indefinitely plastic. People 
quarrel more front errors of judgment titan 
from any oilier cause. You can live with 
anybody if you understand him, and you can 
manage anybody if you know him, pi Muling 
you mean well, have a decent heart, and are 
willing to be patient and to make some sacri¬ 
fices for love. 
Newly-married women are, no doubt, 
very trying sometimes to their husbands; 
but it is the fault more of their social train¬ 
ing and the want of education than anything 
else. Men should remember how much a 
girl lias lo learn, and how much, alas I most 
men have to unlearn, when they first begin 
the married life. We venture to say that if 
all newly married couples were to make a 
contract not to quarrel for six months, they 
would seldom have any very serious quar¬ 
rels in after life. 
You can get into the habit of living peace¬ 
ably and happily, ami that habit is quite as 
difficult to break ua any habit we know of. 
Let there he no long poulings; let there be 
no long, careless, indifferent fils. If little 
storms arise—and they will arise—let them 
lie brief. Don’t let us sleep over it, and 
wake up the next morning and cudgel our 
brains to remember who nagged last. This 
kind of thing is mean, it is ungenerous, and 
it is silly. But if there is a difference, let 
Annabel and Ralph botli speak their minds; 
and let Annabel have a good cry, if Unit is 
her method of winding up, and then a good 
hug; and lei Ralph see that it be ail made 
up before dinner, or before bedtime, or we 
cannot be responsible for the consequences. 
- 444 - 
KEEP STRAIGHT AHEAD. 
Pay no attention to slanderers or gossip- 
mongers. Keep straight on in your course, 
and let their backbitings die the death of 
neglect. What is the use of lying awake 
nights, brooding over the remarks of some 
false friend, that run through your brain 
like forked lightning? Wliut's the use of 
getting into a Worry and fret over gossip that 
has been set afloat to your disadvantage, by 
some meddlesome busybody, who has more 
time than character. Thase thiugs can’t 
possibly injure you, unless, indeed, you take 
notice of them, and in combating them give 
them character and standing. If what is 
said about you is true, set yourself right at 
onde; ifit is false, let it go for what it will 
fetch. If a bee stings you, would you go to 
the hive and destroy it? Would uot a 
thousand come upon you? It is wisdom to 
say little respecting the injuries you have 
received. We are generally losers iu the 
end if we stop to refute all the backbitings 
and gossiplngs we may hear by the way. 
They are annoying, it is true, but not dan¬ 
gerous so long as we do not Btop to expostu¬ 
late and scold. Our characters are formed 
and sustained by ourselves, and by our own 
actions and purposes, and not by others. 
Let us always bear in mind that “ calumnia¬ 
tors may usually be trusted to time and the 
slow but steady justice of public opinion.” 
- 4 - 4-4 - 
The uersonelle of women su gg ests that 
we are all more or less like spiders—spin¬ 
ning a web made of our own substance. 
or Doung people. 
THE PRAYER FROM THE CRIB. 
There's a bright, bonny-face In ttio crib there, 
Crown'd with hair itiat’a blonde, as you see; 
And the eyes that look up into mine, are 
Sky blue, anil bare depth* like the sea. 
The sweet lip*, like corals, are ruby; 
The lines of the mouth seem to aay, 
” l love and I trust and I'm happy 
From sunrise to sunset, this May.” 
I see, as I sit In the twilight. 
The lashes close over the eyee, 
And the little hands lifted upright, 
And the face turned up to the skies. 
I 
And I hear a plea to the Shepherd 
To bless the sweet lamb In the crib— 
For hla presence there In the darkness, 
That the light of His face be uot hid. 
And then the soft voice grows tender; 
The plea grows more touching to me; 
For I heur, “ Bless Father and Mother 
And take us all Home uuto Thee 1” 
And the kiss from the lips of coral 
Tastes sweeter than ever to me— 
The perfume of Prayer Is about her,* 
And a Presence no one can see. C. D. : 
HOW COLUMBUS GROSSED THE OOEAN. 
“ I think it must be a fine thing to go off 
in a ship and discover new countries,” said 
Frank Eastman. 
“Yes,” said Jack Gillis, “wouldn’t I 
liked to linve been Christopher Columbus ; 
lie had three ships, all going together, and 
lie was the Captain. I wonder how long it, 
took him to come.” 
“ And how lie knew the way, that’s what 
l wonder," said Frank. 
“ Halloa, schoolmaster! ” said Frank, ns 
his brother IIoraut came into the room. 
IIobart Eastman was a student in col¬ 
lege, and just now at home for vacation; 
but because lie sometimes tried to lend his 
brothers and sisters to attend to their books, 
and learn all they could, they called him the 
schoolmaster. But Hobart didn’t mind 
this, so now when Frank began asking 
about Christopher Columbus, ho sat. down 
to tell the boys what they wanted to know. 
“ What puzzles me," said Jack, “ is how 
lie ever found the way, going the first one.” 
“ Why he could find the way, Just as well 
as any one that goes now," said Frank, 
laughing ; do you suppose the folks that 
have gone since have had a road to go by ?" 
“ Well now, Frank," said Hobart, “you 
tell us, how did he know the way? What, 
discovery had been made which enabled 
COLUMBUS. to cross the ?” 
“I don’t know, I’m sure; I suppose lie 
went along just the way be guessed was 
right." 
“ I’m afraid lie would have wandered 
about some time, if lie had tried to guess at 
the way. indeed, I don’t know what lie 
would ever have done but for a certain little 
instrument he had. Have you never heard 
of the Mariner's Compass ?” 
“ Oli, yes,” said Frank ; “ I read about it 
in my Philosophy, but. I didn’t exactly un¬ 
derstand about it.” 
“ Why, don’t you see,” said Hobart, “ the 
needle which lias been touched with load¬ 
stone, and made a magnet, alwnys points to 
the North. Of course, it must lie placed 
horizontally on a pivot, und allowed to move 
easily, so that it can point just as it inclines. 
Then, that I,lie direction may be ascertained 
very accurately, the pivot is fastened in the 
center of a card, and around the card are 
marked the thirty-two points of direction, 
or points of the compass," 
“ And can’t the needle turn any other way 
than toward the North ?” asked Jack. 
“ Oil, you can.with your finger draw it from 
its position,” said Hobart, “ but the very 
instant it is left to itself it whirls back quick¬ 
ly enough.” 
“ How funny It is,” said Frank, “ What 
makes it, that’s what I don’t see.” 
“ And that’s what nobody understands," 
said Hobart, “ but all the time there are 
hundreds and thousands of ships. All over 
the ocean these ships are going in every di¬ 
rection, but each one has its little needle; 
and every one of these little needles is point¬ 
ing toward the North. All over the world, 
wherever they may be, to the North the 
needle surely points.” 
“ How queer that is/’ said Jack. 
“ A piece of iron brought near it, how¬ 
ever, would so influence it. that it would turn 
right round from pointing to the north pole 
and point toward the iron, and for this rea¬ 
son, and also to prevent anything injuring it, 
the needle, after it ia fastened to the card, is 
placed in a box made of brass, and with a 
glass top, so that one can look in and see the 
faithful little needle always turning in the 
same direction.” 
“ And did people always have a mariner’s 
compass ?’’ asked Frank. 
“ A long time before Columbus discov¬ 
ered America people knew that a certain 
kind of iron ore, which is called a magnet, 
possessed very peculiar properties; but it 
was not applied to practical purposes in the 
form of a compass until 1403 ; and you know 
Columbus discovered America in 1492. 
“ Then how did they go on the ocean at 
all?” asked Frank. 
“ They did not go very far from land, nnd 
then they were guided mostly by the stars, 
but when tiie stars were concealed by clouds, 
they must have had a bad time of it.” 
The story of Columbus is a very sad one, 
aud some time I will tell you about it. 
L. s. 
-♦♦♦- 
LETTERS PROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Nncli Mnlri in Little Space. 
Mr. Editor :—1 am a little girl eleven 
years old. I live in the country, ami have 
been a reader of the Rural New-Yorker 
since I can remember. 1 have always been 
interested in it, and more so since you have 
allowed us such a nice Boys’ and Girls’ Col¬ 
umn. Canandaigua Outlet runs a little back 
of our house, and I intend to learn to lislv 
as well ns row a boat. We have a large 
door yard iu front of our house, witli a good 
ninny trees as well as flowers in it. This 
spring 1 took more than usual pains with 
the flowers, so that they look prettier than 
ever. Once we had a day school picnic in 
strawberry time out under tiie trees. We 
had a very nice time. 1 tried Carrie Bron¬ 
son’s way of.king a mat lo set a teapot 
on, and Emelie’s way of making a paper 
doll hotlse; 1 think them both very pretty. 
I usually allend school when there is any in 
the district. I have a little sister, but. she is 
too little to appreciate the Rural, only tiie 
pictures. I will tell the girls how I made a 
picture hook for her. 1 look an old, large 
account hook, that was of no use, as it was 
written full, ami after getting all of tiie pret¬ 
ty pictures I could find, I pasted them in, 
and I think it will amuse her a good deal.— 
Luella, Lyons, N. Y., May, 1871. 
. _ 
A Good Letter nnd Kind iuvitntiou. 
Mr. Editor — Bear Sir: I am eleven years 
old. I like to read the letters iu your paper 
from the little girls and boys. I have been 
thinking a long time that I would write to 
you. I like to see tiie rebuses and get tiie 
answers. When we see papa coining home 
with the Rural New-Yorker, wc all run 
to see the rebuses and read the letters. I go 
to school. Friday we laid compositions and 
dialogues and speeches. I said a dialogue 
for tin; first time. I am going to the sweet¬ 
est teacher in Dyorsburg, aud I study live 
studies besides music. I am a fanner’s girl, 
ami I live on a farm. 1 clean up my 
mamma’s room nnd make up her bed every 
morning, and set tbe table. I have a little 
brother three years old. The other night 
when the moon went down lie said some¬ 
body boo-ed it out. 1 have u little vegetable 
garden and a little flower garden, and if you 
will come to see us, I will make you a little 
bouquet, and give you a nice vegetable din¬ 
ner. Don’t forget to send tiie Rural every 
week. From your friend Ula F., Dyers- 
burg, Tenn. 
[Regret that we cannot accept, Cla’s kind 
invitation to dinffer. We will not forget to 
send the Rural regularly.— Ed.] 
How Frank Unlace C’litckens. 
Dear Rural; —I read the letters from 
boys and girls every week, and I get, very 
much interested in them; and 1 thought I 
would try it myself. I atu going to tell liovv 
I raise chickens. I use tiie common lent 
coop, witli a floor in it, und have a hoard 
tliat I can slide up in front, so that it is ver¬ 
min proof. When tiie chicks are a day old, 
I take the hen off from the nest and put her 
and tiie chicks into the coop; then, when 
tiie chicks are a week or so old, I lake a 
piece of good twine, and tie her to tiie coop, 
and keep lengthening it for about three 
weeks, and then turn them loose. 1 feed 
my chickens meal and sour milk, ami 1 have 
never had any trouble with the gapes, or 
anything else.— Frank, Castile, N. Y. 
[The kind of coop Frank mentions was 
illustrated and described in tiie Rural New- 
Yorker of May 6,1871, page 286. Other 
tiovs who want a good aud cheap coop, cun 
there see bow it is made.—E d.] 
-♦»» ■ 
GOOD SENSE. 
The great trouble among American youth 
is the lack of application and thoroughness 
in what they undertake. Anything that 
cannot lie learned by superficial study is giv¬ 
en the go-by for something less tedious and 
irksome. Study and hard labor arc* looked 
at from a wrong standpoint; and as a con 
sequence tiie clerkship ranks are full of un¬ 
employed young men, and the professions 
are overflowing with mediocrity, while good 
mechanics find plenty of work at living 
prices. The evil spoken of is seriously felt. 
And those who work at a trade do it iu so 
loose and careless a manner that they often 
are not competent to do the work they prom¬ 
ise to do. 
4 4 » 
God’s Veils. —“ Papa,” said little Mary, 
“ do you know wlmt I think when I see those 
pretty clouds?” 
“ No; what do you think of them, Mary ?’’ 
“I always think they are God’s veils. 
Doesn’t he have beautiful veils, papa, to hide 
him from us ? ” 
QO 
Mbbatf) limbing. 
THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 
BY EMILIE CLARK. 
When twilight's chaste curtains envelop the skies, 
Arul Nature seems hushed In a dreamless repose— 
When hearts of uffeetloii find access lo eyes 
In whoso depth cun be read what they only dis¬ 
close— 
When Silence, mate Angel, hath folded her wing. 
And perched in the uppermost chambers of air, 
Ot then It is sweet to touch memory's string— 
’Tls sweet then to hallow one hour with prayer. 
When thoughts, winged and heuuWful, flit o’er the 
brain, 
Like rose-light at morning o’ei summer's soft blue— 
When imagination, In fanciful train, 
Draws the pictures that truth erst In Paradise 
drew— 
When even remembrance of past deeds unkind, 
Or sorrows, that racked the young heart to despair, 
Shull seem as n tiro thut only reflnod 
Eaoii feeling to piety, purity, prayer. 
THOUGHTS FOR THINKERS. 
Wealth, and power, and prosperity, how 
peculiarly transitory and uncertain ! But 
religion dispenses her choicest cordials in 
the seasons of exigence, in poverty, in exile, 
in sickness, and In death. The csssential 
superiority of that support which is derived 
from religion is less felt, at least it is less 
apparent when the Christian is in lull pos¬ 
session of riches, and splendor, and rank, 
and ail tiie gifts of nature and fortune. But 
when all these are swept away by tiie rude 
hand of time or the rough hlaslsof adversity, 
the true Christian stands, like the glory of 
the forest, erect and vigorous, stripped, in¬ 
deed, of its summer foliage, but more than 
ever discovering to tiie observing eye the 
solid strength of his substantial texture.— 
Wilherforce. 
Tnus was tiie way of the wilderness, “ the 
right way.” And sueli is always tiie way 
by which God leads forth from tiie Egypt of 
spiritual bondage into the land of freedom, 
and un.to tiie fair city of their abiding rest, 
His redeemed ones. They are not translat¬ 
ed at once by a short and painless road to 
glory and felicity. Rather arc they con¬ 
ducted through tiie Red Sea of trial and 
temptation, by the way of Sinai, burning 
with fire, and shaking their souls with its 
tempest of thunders and lightnings, past tiie 
bitter springs of Meribah flowing only with 
tiie waters of nffiiction, and entering at 
length the haul of their hopes and after 
deadly encounters witli determined foes. 
The church and tiie world, the sanctuary 
and the counting-room, do not displace one 
another. Tiie duties growing out of our re¬ 
lations to God, and those growing out of our 
relations to man, arc alike binding. It is 
not necessary to lay aside worldly business 
to lie religious (with ilie monk). It is equal¬ 
ly unnecessary to give up prayer, worship 
and faith, to be moral (witli tbe moralist). 
In th<! Christian view the two classes of du¬ 
ties find room, and are liarmouiously related, 
neither of them being compromised nor re¬ 
laxed. 
We are needy in every condition. We are 
soldiers, and we need that grace should find 
us both shield and sword. We are pilgrims, 
and we need Unit love should give us botli 
a staff aud a guide. We are sailing over 
the sea of life, and we need that tiie wind of 
the Spirit shall fill our 9ales and that 
Christ shall he our pilot. There is n<> figure 
under which the Christian life can be repre¬ 
sented in which our need is not a very con¬ 
spicuous part, of the image. In all aspects 
we are poor and needy.— Spurgeon. 
Fkebel says:—“He who will recognize 
the Creator must early exercise his own cre¬ 
ative powers; exercise them with a feeling 
of consciousness for the representation of 
the good ; for works are the bond that next 
to faith unite the creature witli tiie Creator; 
and the consciousness doing of the sume is 
tiie real living union between man und God; 
alike in the individual or in tiie race. Witli 
all this education must begin, and to this 
end it must always tend. 
Every parent is like a looking glass for 
bis children to dress themselves by. There¬ 
fore, parents should take care to keep the 
glass bright und clear, not dull and spotted, 
as their good example is a rich inheritance 
I for the rising generation. 
In tiie depths of the sea the waters are 
I still, the heaviest grief is that borne in si¬ 
lence; the deepest love flows through tiie 
eye and touch; the purest joy is unspeak¬ 
able; the most Impressive preacher at a fu¬ 
neral is the silent one whose lips are cold. 
Christians pray with outspread, but 
clean hands; witli uncovered head, because 
they are uot ashamed; and without tiie aid 
of a prompter, because we pray from tbe 
heart.— Tertullian. 
Any one can drift. But it takes .prayer, 
religious principle, earnestness of purpose, 
constant watching to resist tiie evil of this 
world—to struggle against the tide. 
Could we see tilings as God sees them, 
we should not huve a solitary wish for a 
single alteration in our circumstances; we 
should say “ It is well” 
