fairies' fJart-Jfolio: 
GOOD-NIGHT AT THE GATE. 
BT TKEMPLEAU. 
'Iood-ntght 1 for I’m ready to go; 
First, kiss me good-night at the gate; 
Aa ihe pert little Miss answered “No,” 
1 concluded she wished me to wait. 
For she thinks if I value the kiss. 
In vnln I’ll protest It is late, 
As she knows t never will miss 
This charming guod-nigbt at the gate. 
Our feet may he cold, it Is true. 
Yet how well it has paid me to wait, 
For lit length 1 exacted my due— 
The valuable toll at the gate. 
Then, whenever you wish me to stay, 
Atany time, however late, 
You have, you see, hut to delay 
The thrilling, sweet kiss at the gate. 
Or. If you’re In haste to go in, 
How briefly the wish you can state, 
By granting what always has been— 
The standard good-night at the gate. 
- » 
TO MOTHERS: 
religious training of the little ones. 
BY MARY C. BARTLETT. 
Mothers, I fear there are too many of 
you who imagine, when the little ones have 
been neatly dressed and sent off to Sunday 
School, that yonr duty on the score of reli¬ 
gious training has been done. But, is it 
rigid, think you, thus to shift, off upon the 
S unlay school teacher a responsibility which 
is yours alone ? Besides, what do you know, 
in most cases,of that, teacher’s qualifications 
fur inculcating Divine truth into the precious 
souls committed to your care ? During my 
own experience as a Sunday School teacher 
the culpable negligence of many Christian 
mothers in this respect has been too evident 
in their children’s ignorance of the most 
elementary religious truths. And, I regret 
to say, equally evident has been the unfit¬ 
ness of many, I had almost said the majori¬ 
ty, of teachers to supply this deficiency. 
But even when in every respect well quali¬ 
fied for her work the teacher’s half-hour’s 
instruction one day in the week,is no equiv¬ 
alent for the dally leashing of a pious 
mother—and daily such teaching should he. 
Morc.it should have its regular time; for 
you know very well that whatever can he 
done “at anytime,” is often never done at 
all.” The childrens’ bedtime you will find 
your best opportunity for this highest of 
duties; lint, be sure, though, that it is siiffi- 
cienily early, Fifteen minutes thus spent 
tvilh them can easily be spared from your 
work; or if you have company, you can 
surely he excused for that length of time. 
Be careful not to make the fearful mistake 
some parents do of representing God to 
their children as a harsh and angry Judge. 
In some homes, if Ilis IIol v Name is ever 
mentioned, it is only to say, “ God does not 
love bad children ; if you do so and so, God 
will punish you," &e., &c. A lady l know 
—one who, judging from the ignorance of 
her children, has probably never spent five 
minutes in their religious instruction—will 
say to l hem as they gather in terror around 
her, in a thunder storm, “ We ought to be 
very good, for we don’t know what minute 
God may strike us dead 1” As though they 
mid " he good" without ever being taught 
how! And as though they would cure any¬ 
thing about loving and serving a Being at 
whose name they have only learned to 
slutdder !***** 
In the time set apart for conversation upon 
religious subjects the children will be very 
iipt to relieve their minds of the many ques¬ 
tions ot theology which are always puzzling 
little brains. For instance, they often 
wouder, since God made everything and 
everybody, whoever could have made such 
<t great and mighty being as He I They 
wonder, since the devil was the first to tempt 
ftiiy one, who could have tempted him to 
sin when a holy angel 1 Parents little dream 
how their children worry and puzzle them¬ 
selves over any such questions when a word 
Of explanation, or the knowledge that they 
were prying into what has not been revealed 
would sot their liLlle minds at rest. By hav- 
in g spiritual things brought before them 
children will not fall into the common 
of thinking them suitable only for 
Sundays; bul on the contrary, will learn to 
t0 is so difficult for “grown-up Chris- 
tiuns” whose early training has beeu defi- 
ueilt > •'•amely, to realize, as well as believe, 
ftpiiilual truths. “ The things that are not 
’" 11 and are “ eternal,” will be as real to 
'em as the“ tilings which are seen” and 
arc “ temporal” 
Remembering that “ reverence is the 
'’"delation of all true devotion,” kneel with 
| ' J * f Tldren, instead of simply’ hearing 
not forget to teach them a morning prayer 
as well as an evening one, that they may 
receive “ day by day” the spiritual strength 
“ to fight manfully against sin, the world, 
and the devil.” 
Be careful not to make Sunday a dull, 
heavy day, by forbidding the childrens’ ac¬ 
customed sports and occupations, and yet 
providing nothing in their stead. Bui take 
them out to walk ; pick up a stone, a leaf, an 
insect or a llower—explain to them the won¬ 
ders of each, and lead their little minds up to 
the Maker of all. Show them how the de¬ 
sign, contrivance and skill, exhibited ill the 
formation of each, proves His very existence. 
Thus, almost without an effort, you can give 
them a lesson iu natural theology. Take 
them with you to visit Hie sick and needy. 
Tell them Bible stories. Read to them of 
the lives and deaths of the Apostles and early 
Martyrs. Tell them allegories and let them 
interpret their meaning. Open the piano or 
meJodeon and play the litile hymns they 
love to sing. Hear them recite tlieir Sun¬ 
day School lesson, and explain it as fully as 
though they were not going to school. Then 
any additional remarks from the teacher will 
be so much gained. When old enough, let 
them try and give you an account of the ser¬ 
mon. No matter if it is very, very slight; it 
is the mere habit of listening and trying to 
understand that is beneficial to them. Finally, 
let your usual “ talk ” on this night he longer 
and fuller. You will soon find a little effort 
on your part will make Sunday really a hap¬ 
py day to the little ones. 
Do uot he discouraged if after all your 
painstaking your children do not correspond 
to the faultless little Tommies and Susies 
whose praise is in the story hooks. If you 
find them natural children, having many 
faults, but earnestly striving by God’s grace 
to correct them, you may thank God, and 
trust Him for tlm rest. But remember that 
all y<Jur efforts without, prayer are nothing 
Worth. You can but plant and water; it is 
God who must give the increase. Therefore 
“he instant in season and out of season in 
prayer,” for the priceless souls that have 
been lent to you, and, “in duo season, ye 
shall reap if ye faint uot.” 
-♦+<- 
BREACHES OF PROMISE IN JAPAN. 
The curious Hold superstition has on the 
mind of the Japanese is well illustrated by 
the proceedings taken by a Japanese damsel 
when her lover proves false to his vows. 
When the world is at rest, at two o’clock 
in the morning, the woman generally rises. 
She dons a white robe and high sandals 
or clogs. Iler coif is a metal tripod, in 
which are thrust three lighted candles; 
around her neck she hangs a mirror, which 
falls upon her bosom ; in her left hand she 
carries a small straw figure—the effigy of 
her faithless lover; and in her right she 
grasps a hammer and nails, with which she 
fastens the figure to one of the sacred trees 
that surround the shrine. Then she prays 
for the death of the traitor, vowing that if 
her petition he heard she will herself pull 
out the nails which now offend the god by 
> wounding the mystic tree. Night after night 
she comes to the shrine, and eueli night she 
strikes in two or more nails, believing that 
every nail will shorten her lover’s life; for 
the god, to save his tree, will surely strike 
him dead. 
HE DID NOT MARRY. 
Tins anecdote of John Randolph is re¬ 
lated by a writer in a Virginia paper:—“ An 
old mau told tne that he lived near the resi¬ 
dence ot Miss-, to whom it was said 
that Mr. Randolph was engaged to he mar¬ 
ried. On one occasion lie had been at her 
residence a short time and had left; and as 
it was said that the marriage would take 
place shortly, he thought he would go and 
inquire of the old lady. She said Mr. Run- 
] dolph had left in great haste, and told him 
to go and see where, in his hurry, lie had 
cut the reins of his bridle instead of untying 
them. It appears that it was proposed that 
he should make a marriage settlement; 
whereupon he said :— 1 It is not my purpose 
to purchase. When I desire to purchase 1 
shall go to the cheapest market—I shall go 
to Africa.’ With this remark he left the 
house, went to where his horse was tied, cut 
the reins and immediately departed.” 
-- 
o Payers said at your knee, time-Uon- 
fts that custom is. For by the rev- 
J nu ot your manner, and the fervency 
1 M\!iichy 0 U j 0 i n in some of their peti- 
' s > you will help them to realize the jm- 
0n ltt * P^ence of the “ High and Lofty 
' " “ iHUUkbtelli Himself to hear the 
ot little children. Be sure you do 
VERY TRUE. 
If people who do not think—and but few 
have been blessed with any adequate appli¬ 
ances for that business—knew how they are 
mentally analyzed, and morally dissected, 
by t hose who do, you could get never a word 
out of them. But they arc always at lhe 
same disadvantage as the insect in the mi¬ 
croscope: while their faults, ignorances and 
meannesses are being minutely inspected, 
they are in that state of simple unconscious¬ 
ness most favorable to the examination. 
Content is the gift of Heaven, and not 
the certain effect of anything upon earth; 
and it is as easy for Providence to convey it 
without wealth as with it. 
or Doung |9ccrplc. 
LITTLE BLUE BONNET. 
BY MAJOSA. 
Little bluo bonnet, 
Trudging along. 
Shielding the eyes. 
Full of mischief mid song; 
Early and bright. 
Though the wind blows cool. 
Hastening away 
'l’o the infant school. 
Little bluo bonnet, 
Tied on with a kiss. 
**My lesson to-day 
I fink I’ll not miss.’’ 
“The walk Is so icy. 
Be careful, my dear. 
Or down you will full, 
I very rnuoh fear.” 
Little blue bonnet, 
Hiding a face, 
Demure and wlso. 
With childish grace * 
“ What do you learn, 
Little one, us you go?” 
" I learn the tings 
The big folks know.” 
Little blue bonnet. 
Ah, soon it may be 
Laid far aside. 
As too simide for thee 
When ribbons and laces 
Encircle thy brow, 
Will they make thee ns glad 
As the blue bonnet now? 
LETTERS FROM GIRLS AND BOYS. 
From a Cnimtlinn School Girl. 
Dear Mr. Editor As I have read many 
letters in the Rural New Yorker, and like 
to read them very much, l thought that I 
would write also. I live in one of the bright, 
sunny homes of Ontario, on my pupa’s farm, 
which is six miles from the nearest town,— 
but it is almost as lively here as it. is in some 
villages, for there is a railroad being built, 
and it runs across our farm. My papa is one 
of the contractors on the line, and we see a 
grout many coming and going from it. I go 
to school; it. is a little over a mile to the 
school house, but I do not mind walking 
that far. T take music lessons; we have a 
melodoon and generally keep a music teacher 
in the house. I have a sister, and a little 
brother who has bright, blue eyes and dark 
curly hair. I cannot tell you anything 
about my little sister this time, as it would 
make my letter too long, blit if you think 
this worth publishing I will give you an ac¬ 
count of our pet of the household next time. 
—Carrie Mav W., “ Dell of the Woods,” 
Strncoe, Out. 
About Mary’s Summer Work. 
Mr. Editor: —To-day befilg my fifteenth 
birthday 1 concluded I could spend it iu no 
better way than to write to the dear Rural 
New-Yorker and tell what amusement I 
have had this summer. Perhaps it may not 
have been quite as fashionable as some would 
have liked, but at. any rate it had a very 
healthy effect. At the commencement of 
the wheat harvest, my father being short of 
help proposed to my sister (four years older) 
and myself to take turns in driving on the 
reaper, (which was one of Dodge's, with 
self-rake attachment), and as I had Hie most 
leisure time it fell to the lot of your humble 
servant to cut twenty-eight acres of wheat 
and twelve acres of oats. The wheat, when 
threshed, yielded 788 bushels. Perhaps 
some will think this is all I am capable of 
doing; to all such I would merely say 
“ come and see,” Before closing 1 wish to 
ask a question. I intend taking lessons in 
instrumental music and would like to get a 
good instruction book. Will someone who 
knows tell me whose to get?— Mary A. S., 
Fayette , N, Y 
Some of Juxie’s Pets. 
Dear Rural: —I have seen so many le 
ters from hoys and girls, in your paper, 
thought I would write too. I am thirtee 
years old. This is the first year we hav 
taken the Rural New-Yorker, I like 
first-rate. 1 have three rabbits, and a whll 
kitten too. We have a dog that does tli 
churning; he can speak, shake hands an 
sneeze. He is a black Newfoundland. I g 
to school about a mile from here. We ai 
having vacation now. Please excuse mi 
takes.— Josie, Rose Farm. 
A Vermont Girl’* ioe-G'renm Recipe. 
Dear Mr. Editor:—I am a country girl, 
thirteen years old, and have never been off 
our little island but once. This spring father 
gave me a pretty white ben, which has raised 
as nice a brood of chickens as I ever saw— 
ten in all. I feed them every morning, and 
they all know their names. We have a nice 
croquet ground, and I have a little flower 
garden which I attend to all alone. I have a 
nice ice-cream recipe which I send you : 
One pint milk, one pint cream, four eggs, 
half pound sugar; beat the sugar and eggs 
together; heat the milk; when it boils, stir 
in the eggs and sugar; flavor with lemon or 
vanilla. Freeze with salt and ice.— Annie 
R., South Eero, Vt. 
How to Prepare Autumn Leave*. 
Mr. Editor :—As it is getting about th 
to prepure autumn leaves, I thought I wot 
tell my little Rural New-Yorker friends 
how to preserve them so they will look very 
natural. Select your leaves, us many us 
you wish, and with a small brush apply 
boiled oil to the leaves on both sides; then 
lay them away to dry where they will be 
free from dust. When they are dry, arrange 
them to suit your fancy. They arc very 
pretty made into wreaths or crosses. What 
lias become of Edith and Loretta? I 
haven’t seen a letter from them in a long 
time. I should like to hear from them ever 
so much.—C. R., Pontiac, Mkh. 
IiIk’n Homo in West Virginia. 
Dear Rural: —l am very fond of read¬ 
ing the Rural New-Yorker, and particu¬ 
larly the letters from hoys and girls, and I 
will now try and write to you myself. I am 
a little girl eleven years old. 1 live in the 
country, three miles from town and two 
miles from the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. 
M 3 ’ father is a farmer. 1 go half a mile to 
school. I wish you could see my little pet 
dog, Fannie; site is a little beauty, and is a 
Baltimorean. We Have a great deal of 
poultry; my litile brother attends to it. I 
am sure you would admire our home, for all 
who see it think it is a lovely spot. Wo 
have a great many flowers; a beautiful 
spring running through the meadow. We 
are now busy threshing our grain by steam. 
I hope, dear Mr. Editor, you will write to me. 
Little friend of the Rural—Ida S., Shsp- 
hei'dstoton, Jefferson Co , W. Yd- 
Frankie’* Chicken* and Pig. 
Dear Mr. Editor:— My papa now takes 
your paper, and although 1 am but seven 
years old, 1 read lots in U, the letters from 
boys and girls especially, and 1 think you 
are real good to notice us little folks so 
much. Papa is a house painter by trade, 
and as I am not yet old enough to help him, 
1 try to help mamma some in the house, 
when 1 am not at school. Bul to-day is the 
last day of school, and now I hope to be of 
more use, J lost one of my lit tic chickens 
the other day, and I will Veil you how. He 
was taken lame, in one foot first, and in less 
than two weeks lost the use of both legs. 
We fed him some lime after he was crip¬ 
pled, hut he didn't grow fat one hit, and so 
papa wrung his neck and put him out of 
Ids misery. Can some of your hoys inform 
me what caused his lameness? I have got 
twenty hens and chicks, and although they 
are not any of them high bloods , they are 
smart liens to lay. T have also one pig, a 
Chester White, and I think he will make a 
big hog if ho lives and does well 1 have 
written a long letter, but 1 do not see any 
letters from boys in this county, and hope 
you will be kind enough to publish ibis, to 
let them know that Lewis county boys are 
alive.— Frankie A., Turin, Lewis Co., N. Y 
Leilni' from n Roy Funnel'. 
Mr. Editor. — Dear Sir: 1 have been 
reading in I lie Rural New- Yorker some, 
of the IiLily boys’ and girls’ letters, and the 
thought came into my mind that 1 would 
write one. I am a boy of fifteen and live on 
a farm and have lots of fun. My father 1ms 
given me some land to work, and 1 have set 
it out. to tobacco. There is little more than 
half an acre in the piece. My father has a 
piece of two acres by the side of mine, ami 
my plants are as large as his. I have at¬ 
tended to it all myself. 1 am now topping 
it; biit lam afraid the cold nights that we are 
having will set. Jack Frost a biting it. before 
I get it, harvested. I think the tobacco 
worms are biting it bad enough without 
Jack Frost, taking bold. And then I have 
a bull, and some bantam chickens, which 
are as white ns snow. I am afraid my hull 
is going to be a cross one ; I have had a ring 
put into his nose, and father says ho will 
help mu to learn him to lead. I think I 
shall sell him this fall. I think I have writ¬ 
ten quite a long letter now for the Rural. 
I had rather read letters than write them. 
So 1 will bid you good-by, saying I will try 
and write a better one next time.—A. H. A., 
Ju., Manlius, 1871. 
A 11 Ohio Roy Want* Fancy Rincon*. 
Dear Sir :—I am a little boy living in 
Wayne Co., near the center of Ohio. There 
are a great many pigeons in our town, and 1 
have ahofit fifteen common ones. I think a 
great deal of pigeons, and my father takes 
the Rural New-Yorker and I have seen 
many nice pigeons iu the paper, and I am a 
going to ask if you can tell me where I can 
get any of them. Among them are the 
Turbit pigeon, shown in July 15; the swal¬ 
low pigeon, shown in your paper of August 
19; The While Fan-Tail, March 4; and the 
flying Tumbler, April 22. If you can give 
me any information it will be thankfully re¬ 
ceived,— IIaryey S. 
fOuR young friend should write to some of 
lhe poultry fanciers who advertise in the 
Rural.] 
-♦♦♦- 
No career, however noble or exalted it 
may seen in itself, will truly bless him who 
follows it, unless ho carry into it the spirit 
of truth, justice and love. Then, all busi¬ 
ness is sacred, and all life is religion. 
Gp 
^abbafl) jj cubing. 
TO MY ABSENT BROTHER,* 
Buotheh ! years have passed away 
Since you and I have tunt, 
Bat many dreams of happy days 
Do I remember yet; 
Oh ! yes—tJio rceuoa of childhood’s years 
My heart will ever prize. 
And often shall .regretful tears 
Of memory, unhidden rise. 
Brother! times havo sadly changed 
Since lirst In childhood’s glee. 
O’er bright green Helds and hills I ranged, 
My brother, dear, with tlice; 
The one who then was wont to greet 
With smiles our safe return, 
Now sleeps her last mysterious sloop 
Within her lowly urn. 
Brother! I remember well 
The sorrow on thy face, 
The morn on which our mother’s form 
Was clasped In death’s umbrace, 
And though thon'i t imw la distant dimes 
Cun’st thou forget the hour 
When we were 'reft of her sweet love, 
By death’s resistless power ? 
Brother ! though now no mother’s prayer 
Can uless time ns thou roam. 
Her spirit still may hover near 
To guide thee to thy home. 
And when. In (lark temptation's hour, 
Thou drink's), from sorrow’s cup, 
May thoughts of her with angel power 
Thy drooping heart lift up. 
Brother 1 there's yet another heart, 
Whose prayer each day shall rise, 
That God to I lice mav grace Impart, 
And make thee good and wise; 
Brother, whoa wuiidmlng furor near, 
May thoughts of home and me 
Bo present still thy path to cheer, 
And still he dear to theo. 
Brother! may aslstor's bivo 
Illume with joy thy way, 
And may she meet with thee above 
In that eternal day. 
Our mother's spirit waits for us 
On that celestial shore, 
“ Where sickness, sorrow, pain and death, 
Are fell and feared no more.” 
* These lines urn sent 11 s by Wll. A. ('. of Onondaga 
Co., N. Y., with a note which say*:-"The inclosed 
verses wore clipped from ,u Brooklyn paper somo 
sixteen years ago, mid sent . . . by a sister then liv¬ 
ing In the ‘ Cli v of <.:hnrch£w,’ An admirer of the 
Knit, 11 , N KW-roiiK nn suggested that limy be sent 
to l.lml, paper for publication. They have sojourned 
with me among the icebergs around the South Pole; 
tmvo touched at Kndeihy Lurid; tarried at‘Cook’s 
UesolHtiou:' explored the. SontbeiH Indian Ocean, 
touching at tin- Marlon and Crotot groups; also 
at tin- Ulnnd. of st. I'aiils, llmifhnn, or Mauritius, 
Madagascar, Fit. Helena, Ascension, RermiPIlts. (do.; 
have also crossed tlm Atlantic four tlrnet*. visited Sa¬ 
hara's sands and Guinea's tropical plains, besides the 
length and breadth of the American Continent.” 
-- 
A DUKE FOR SKEPTICISM. 
A man who had been a professor of re¬ 
ligion 11111113 ' years, partially through the in¬ 
fluence of the disclosures of science, found 
that fears and doubts in regard to the exist¬ 
ence of God had somehow crept into his 
mind. Science taught him that the growth 
and existence of every thing could lie account¬ 
ed for, with lhe exception of a few elements, 
and it seemed more reasonable lo him that 
these had always existed than to believe the 
same in regard to u Creator. He was an 
honest, open-hearted, conscientious man, and 
felt that he was constantly tieling the part 
of a hypocrite until he became almost dis¬ 
tracted. Theologians were consulted in 
vain; his reason could not be convinced. 
One faithful and intelligent divine, after en¬ 
deavoring lo satisfy his reason, said to him : 
“ M 3 ' dour sir, while 1 have spent much time 
in obtaining an intelligent knowledge of the 
Supreme Being, my true answer to your 
question, ’How do you know there is a 
God?’ would lie, through an experimental 
knowledge of Him, because J have been 
face to face, with Him — because I know that 
I know that He hears and answers prayer— 
because He gives me help and strength in 
time of need.” 
But he could not be satisfied; though he 
had realized much of the same experimental 
knowledge of Goo, still ho reasoned :— 
“ Would 1 not experience the same feelings 
if I possessed the same faith in regard to 
untruth or an imaginary God?” He finally 
decided to act the part of a hypocrite no 
longer. lie felt obliged to come out before 
the world and acknowledge that lie could 
not believe in the existence of God; but 
before lie had taken this step he begun try¬ 
ing to thrust God out of his heart, and then 
for the first time did lie begin to realize 
what a part of his life religion had become. 
“ Why, throw that away, and what, was left ? 
What had he to live for?” Ho knew that 
it was vain for man to accumulate anything 
and call it “mine;" for even though he 
prospered to the utmost of his wishes, how 
short the time that wohid elapse before ho 
must feel all worldly things sliding from 
him forever! And was he to lie left with 
iio hope for anything beyond ? The scales 
fell from his eyes as effectually as they did 
from Saul’s, and lie fell upon his knees, 
with streaming eyes, thanking God that he 
lmd been led into the fight at last, and beg¬ 
ging forgiveness for his great error. 
Ever after, if lhe Tempter thrust any 
doubts into his mind, he would answer; 
“ Well, if I am deceived it’s all right, for 
surely my religion has made me a belter 
and more useful man than I should have 
been otherwise. 1 never wish to experience 
the second time the horror of trying to be¬ 
lieve that men were horn for nothing better 
or higher than what can possibly be realized 
during mortal life.” R. N. 
Ithaca, N. Y.. Sept., 1871. 
