JAN. 43 
m OOBE’S BUBAL ISEW-YOBKEB, 
“BE GOOD TO YOURSELF.” 
•• Oood-ht ! good-by !” the driver said. 
As tlio coacli went offin a whirl; 
(And tlio coachman bowed his handsome head ;) 
•• He good to yourself— my girl!” 
Ah ! many a fond go«d-by I've heard, 
From many an aching heart; 
And many a friendly farewell word, 
When strangers came to part. 
And I've heard a thonsand merry quips, 
And many a senseless Joke, 
And many a fervent prayer from lips 
That all a-trembllng spoke. 
And many a bit of good advice 
111 smooth proverbial phrase ; 
And many a wish—of Itttlo price— 
For health and happy days. 
But musing how the human soul 
(What'cr the Fates may will) 
Still measures by its self-control 
Its greatest good or ill. 
Of benodietlonn, I protest; 
’Mid many a shining pearl, 
I like the merry coachman’s best— 
” Bo good to yourself—my girl!” 
[John G. So;W. 
- 
SABBATH AMUSEMENTS FOR CHILDREN. 
I think we mothers need syrnpathy arid ad¬ 
vice as to the roaring of our children. I have 
received many good ideas on this subject in t he 
Rural New-Yorker, and would like to con¬ 
tribute my mite, I most heartily agree with 
Put RE Bird (May 27th) in her ideas in respect 
to tho religious training of children. As soon 
as my children arc threo years old they learn 
their little prayer; and if at anytime I forget to 
hoar tholr prayers, they soon remind mo of t he 
neglected fluty. I seldom let a. Sabbath pass 
without gathering the little ones around me to 
road and explain aorno scriptural story, and try 
to impress some particular idea from It upon 
their minds. Mrs. A. L. S. asks (May 37th), “ How 
shall I entertain my children on tho Sabbath 
day, mo that it shall not bo a long, dreary day to 
them?" As I have Blnco soon no direct answer 
to her, I venture to give my plan. 
Wo must not make them hate tho day, by 
compelling them to sit, all day in tho house, 
looking over, perhaps for tho fiftieth time, their 
l>ooLsand papers, and all others they can And. 
Neither should wo allow them to romp and 
shout and play at rough games, disturbing tho 
whole neighborhood. My four children arc al¬ 
lowed to play out of doors Sabbath morning an 
usual, only they must play quietly. They swing, 
play with their dolls, sot a play breakfast, etc., 
until nearly time for church. Their Sabbath- 
school lessons are prepared tho night before. 
After chnreh they aro allowed to play out of 
doors until dinner. Then they have their books 
and papers for a while; and when weary of 
them, I road and explain to them aomo story 
out of tho Blblo, allowing thorn to road occa¬ 
sional verses to keep their attention. I usually 
have a supply of religious stories for children 
on hand, from which l amuso and instruct 
them. Sometimes they will bo thus occupied 
for two or three hours. Then tho restless little 
minds become weary, and they want bodily ox- 
orciao. Then perhaps I send thorn for n walk, 
tolling them to gather mo a bouquet of wild 
flowers (If In tho country), or perhaps to tho 
orchard, or to got a fow wintergroens, or straw¬ 
berries, if in the Boaann. I find such rambles 
productive of good, as they aro amused and 
havo hoalthful exorcise at tho same tlmo, and 
there arc less quarrels to disturb tho Sabbath 
quiet. 
Thus the Sabbath passes, and they do not 
think of its banging heavily on their hands. Hi 
tho evening wo often sing for an hour or so Sab¬ 
bath-school songs; and then after tho younger 
children aro In bed read again. 
Of course in winter, or on vory rainy days, 
some in-door games must be do vised for recrea¬ 
tion, among which aomo nuts to crack, and sot¬ 
ting a table aro favorites with my children. At 
such times a game of “blind man's buff,” or 
“pussy wants a corner," might be allowed, if 
played one side or off In tho kitchen. 
When my older children were too young to go 
for a walk alone, 1 used to go with them, some¬ 
times to a grove or tho orchard, or anywhere 
noar enough for their years. I do not Intend to 
lot any opportunity pass to impress their minds 
with moral and religious principles. Every day 
there are occurrences from which such lessons 
may bo taught, If wo mothers will but boar this 
matter In mind. But wo must spend more time 
for our children. Let our girls’ drosses bo 
plainer. Lot us cook plainer food, and thus 
gain a fow hours oacli week for the training of 
our children's souls. 
If any one lias a bettor plan for employing the 
minds of several children upon tho Sabbath 
day, I hope they will give it through tho 
columns of the Rural. Some will say my 
plan is too much trouble , but can wo bring up 
our children to bo good and noble members of 
society without trouble'! There is a deep and 
true plcaauro In training up an infant mind to 
virtue and Godliness which repays all trouble. 
Sisters, let us thus strive, and in after years our 
children will surely bless us for this care, and 
in luoir own lives imitate our example. 
Mrs. Katie Maxson. 
WASHOE BELLES. 
— 
While we were talking to Captain Jim on the 
good effects of industry, and tho miseries of 
idleness, without In tho least affecting him to 
belief in what wo said, three or four squaws ar- l 
rived on the ground, accompanied by as many 
braves. Tho ladles were more notablo in man¬ 
ner and appearance than any of their sex pres¬ 
ent. Two of them wore dressed In flour sacks, 
made up with their brands prominently dis¬ 
played; one of them had an ovor-aklrt looped 
up in paniored style, and u sash with “Lick’s 
Mills” printed on each end. The other was 
stinted in her pattern of flour bags, and was 
obliged to content herself with one skirt, but 
she had seized indemnity in a wide girdle of bed 
ticking with flowing ends, and wore on her head 
a jaunty hat lately rescued from tho ash-heap, 
and trimmed with an old red suspender. She 
was accompanied by a lady wrapped In a torn 
album quilt, which was spliced at tho boddlee 
by an old green veil. This latter arrival had 
proved herself useful as well as ornamental, bv 
profiting by Dasher’s absence to steal our pet 
melon, which she now endeavored to conceal 
beneath.her scanty drapery. A really respecta¬ 
ble and substantial looking girl, with nothing In¬ 
dian about her oxcopt her complexion, brought 
up tho rear. Slu> was apparently twenty or 
thereabouts, tidy in appearance, and brisk in 
movement, and withal not ill-looking. She 
was dressed in decent dark calico, mado In plain 
style, and wore a clean apron, and a white hand- ! 
korchiof around her neck. She had a brown 
straw bat, trimmed with brown ribbon, on her 
head, and can-led a small basket in her hand, 
which she placed beside an old Indian who had 
been asleep, but who woke and received it with 
a grunt. Showas so singularly, in every respect, 
unlike her sisters, that she ttxod our attention 
and excited our curiosity, so that tho sneaking 
braves who came in her wake had tlmo to hide | 
the squashes and watermelons thoy had boon 
stealing, and innocently stare at us before wo 
could ask a question. 
The lady with whom wo were staying know 
her well, and called her to her side. “This is 
Wainpootook’) daughter, Sally,” she said; ” she 
lives with her old father, but she works for the 
white people all day. She sows ntccly, and Is 
very quick and industrious. She has often 
helped me. and she does her work vory well." 
Sarah seemed delighted with this encomium ; 
she had lost her nation's stolidity, among other 
peculiar! l ies, a ml looked a« pleased and smiling 
us any good humored white girl. 
” I can read, too," she said, in « low tone, that 
evinced a mixture of pride and modesty. “I 
go to church. I was baptized once, and I like 
tho white people because they are so good to 
iim.” 
“ Does your fat her like them too? " we asked. 
She glancod over her shoulder at him as ho sat 
munching Ida bones, and enjoying the meal slm 
had brought him. oho appeared dubious, and 
shook her head slowly. ” He is old ; ho does 
not know the white peoplo; he likes bis sup¬ 
per,” she said, hesitatingly, and Captain ,11m 
stepped up and explained things more clearly. 
" Wainpootook used to go on the war path, 
when ho was young. We good Injuns no fight; 
Wainpootook old now, and no more light, but 
mo good Injun, Capt. Jim, me chief, big man, 
ugh!" 
It seemed quite curious to think that the 
daughter of the white man’s enemy should 
f rrow to love the race, to copy their ways, and 
earn from them so well that her likeness to her 
kindred seemed almost lost. Our Monthly for 
January. 
-- 
HORACE GREELEY AND MISS MORGAN. 
Sometimes Mr. Greeley had a queer way of 
saying “ No," or of informing an applicant that 
he eouid give them no advice. When Miss Mldy 
Morgan, the present, agricultural editor of the 
New York Times came to AtnericiLshe brought 
with her two letters of introduction from Mr. 
George Marsh, our minister to iialy. One of 
these was addressed to Henry J. Raymond and 
one to Horace Greeley. Mr. Raymond being 
dead when she reached this country, the letter 
to him was given to lion. Mr. Bigelow, his suc¬ 
cessor, and our ex-mi ulster to Franco. Some 
time after, Mias Morgan called upon Mr. Greeley 
at the Tribune office, and was admitted to id-, 
pre-sonco. She presented Mr. Marsh's letter. 
Mr. Greeley waa writing, and did not look up 
from bis desk. Ho glanced over the letter, and 
while he kept on his Tribune editorial, said : 
“ I advise you to go to raising mushrooms! " 
. “ Mushrooms, Mr. Grceloy 1 ' exclaimed the 
astonished lady. 
“Yes; the markets of New York aro very 
badly supplied with them, and I think if wo had 
them, a demand would spring up." 
“ Where would you raise thom ? ” 
“Oh! on some unoccupied, sandy island.” 
“ And where is the Island, Mr. Greeley ? " 
“Oh ! I don’t know. There must be ono some¬ 
where. Perhaps you can find ono off the Jersey 
Coast,” 
“Good day. Mr. Greeley,” said Miss Morgan. 
“ Good day," said the Great American Editor, 
without looking up from his desk. 
We ran Imagine what must havo been tho 
feelings of a highly educated lady like Miss 
Morgan, who had boon accustomed to tho best 
society in Europe, and who looked upon all 
Americans as well-bred gentlemen, she was 
utterly astonished at tho manner in which her 
letter from Hon. George P. Marsh was received 
by one whom she had considered ns one of tho 
leading men in America. f?lio might, go the 
world over, and not meet with another such 
man as Mr. Greeley. And yet he was not rude. 
He could do nothing fur a woman out of em¬ 
ployment (perhaps he hadn’t the largest faith 
in the sex); he had no time to waste In offering 
her a chair, and bowing her politely through a 
course of little nothings, which would amount 
to a negative In the end. His humor and phi¬ 
losophy came to his aid, and ho told Miss Mor¬ 
gan, iii figurative language, that she must be 
willing to do anything her hands could find to 
do. Fortunately for her, she was not made of 
the stuff which is easily overcome, or shaken, 
and she left the Tribune office with just os firm 
a resolve to succeed a* she ever had; and she 
has done it, too, w ithin the shallow of the Trib¬ 
une office. In fields qulto as strange and new 
as Mr. Greek v's ideal mushroom plantation 
would be.— Yonk&rs Gazette. 
JjUiuiittj} for the §011119. 
JINGLES. 
Who can tell what a baby thinks ? 
When It wakes from Us forty winks, 
And rubs its face Into numerous kinks, 
And stares at the light that comes in at the chinks 
Of Us roek-a-by nest, and gapes and blinks. 
Who con tell what a baby thinks? 
Who has courage to hazard a guess, 
As to what tho baby may think of its dress. 
Trimmed and ratted to such excess? 
Of what the baby may think of the mess 
For the headache and toothache and stomach dis¬ 
tress, 
And for all its aillngs. more or less ( 
What does It think when It wakes In tho night, 
With all tho pretty things out of Bight, 
Aqd nobody stirring or “ P)fiklng a light?” 
Does It think its condition fur from right, 
And that big folks are not at all polite, 
And trout their visitors far from right, 
And that darkness Is meant for a personal slight 1 
Is that the reason it takes delight 
In screaming with all Its personal might, 
And rousing tho neighbors at dead of night? 
And what do you fbtnk that baby thinks j 
Looking around like a mlld-eyed lynx. 
Watching the spoon that tinkles and chinks, 
While papa Is warming his cutnip drinks 
Over a candle that, glimmers and blinks, 
Humming and drumming oat ” Captain Jinks,” 
That the children skate to now at tho rinks. 
What do you think tho baby thinks ? 
Do you think that, babies aro thtnkloss things, 
With no other light than inutlnot brings. 
With brains as downy as butterflies’ wings, 
And heads as empty us a bell that swings 
Over and under, nnd rings and sings ? 
When muscular motion Is working the springs. 
Do you say that babies are thtnkloss things? 
Then when does the thing begin to grow. 
And when does the mind begin to show? 
And when does the baby begin to know 
That this Is true, or that, Is so ? 
Say, when you find out please lot mo know. 
-»♦ » 
THE ORPHAN’S HOME. 
MV LESLIE HOWARD. 
“ Home ! homo! sweet, sweet home ! 
There’s no place llko home t there’s no plane like 
homo 1” 
These words, accompanied by tho music of a 
grand piano, floatod out on tho night air. They 
were hoard high above tho wailing of tho wind; 
and those who went hurrying by wrapped up in 
warm overcoats and furs, paused a moment to 
seo through tho laco-curtalnod windows of a 
stately mansion, a room, warm and beautiful, 
In tho center of which a group of young faces 
wore gathered round a piano. They merely 
glancod at this picture a moment, and then 
wont on to their own homos. But there was 
ono (a homeless little wanderer) who when her 
oar caught those sweet sounds, paused and list¬ 
ened long nnd eagerly ; then, she crept within 
the iron railing and clung close to tho window, 
looking longingly nfc the picture of warmth and 
coinfort (here. Non© of the happy group within 
saw the white face with Its wan features, shadod 
by a mass of raven hair, and its largo, hungry [ 
eyes looking in at their bright home-picture. 
None of the passers-by without noticed that 
small, thinly-clad form clinging to tho window, i 
regardless of the bitt er cold winds, that played 
with her tattered garments and long, tangled 
hair. So, unseen and unnoticed, tho littlo 
orphan--for such sho was—looked around the 
warm, richly-furnished room; at the glowing 
coats that burned In the grate; the pictures 
Hint hung on tho walls; the books and little 
nick-nacks on th© table; and, above all, at tho 
piano, on whoso Ivory keys a lady played, while 
a handsome, bearded man was bending over her 
with a happy smile, and a group of children 
were gathered round, Joining their glad young 
voices in tho song she sang. 
These children were scarcely older than her¬ 
self; but they were beautiful, and sho thought, 
“Oh, so happy!” She heard one of them call 
tho sweet-faced lady “ mother," and wondered 
if she over had a mother, too. Thon cams a 
dim remembrance of a tlmo long ago, when a 
swoet, sad face was bending over her, and a 
Voice low and musical sang her n lullaby. 
“Yes," thought she, “I had a mother once. 
Showas beautiful like that lady, aud so good. 
She told mo there was a great and good God, 
who loved us all, and little children best. If 
God loves me, why don't ho give me a home- 
warm, bright and beautiful liko this—with my 
mother In It ? 1 would be so happy then—so 
very happy." 
So absorbed wits she in her thoughts and long¬ 
ings that she remained long after tho music 
had ceased, the good-night kisses had been ex¬ 
changed, and all within that happy home were 
wrapped in sweet slumbers. She no longer felt 
tho piercing cold; nor did sho hear tho groat 
clock strike the hour of midnight. Her thoughts 
were far away. She dreamed sho was in a spa¬ 
cious room, where everything was radiant with 
a glory not of earth. Around her were beauti¬ 
ful forms, clad in shining vesture. They had 
golden harps in their hands, from whoso strings 
they drow strains of living music, while together 
their voices sang: 
“ Horn© ! home ! sweet, sweet homo!” 
As sho looked In bewilderment at them all, 
ono of tho shining band, whose face had often 
come to her in her dreams, approached, and 
bending over her, said tenderly: 
“ My child, I am your mother, and this is your 
home.” 
Then, with a glad cry, she sank down into 
what she thought was her mother’s arms, and 
felt at rest. 
The next morning when tho sun rose on the 
great city, which for once looked pure arid 
beautiful In Its covering ot newly-fallen snow, 
those within that stately mansion awake, and 
found near their parlor window tho dead form 
of a child. Tho snow had covered hor tattered 
garments; tt formed a pillow for her head, and 
it rested In her hair. But they looked In awo 
at hor race, as they tenderly raised her up; for 
never had the face of the dead worn such a 
peaceful, happy look. It seemed ns if tho glad 
spirit, in parting, hail left the Impress of Its own 
heavenly Joy on theso outward llnoamonts. 
They could not. understand why an outcast 
and a pauper could die so happily; but thoy did 
not know It was because God had granted her 
prayer, and given her a homo at last; nor did 
thoy hear her voice, na it floated heavenward, 
joyously sing tho two lines of that dear old song: 
“ Home! home! sweet, swoet, homo I 
There’s no pltico like homo ■, there’s no place llko 
home I” 
♦ ♦♦ - 
IMPORTANCE OF READING. 
No matter how obscure the position In life of 
an individual. If ho can read, ho may at will put 
himself In tho best society tho world has over 
seen. lie may converse with tho greatest heroes 
of the past; with all tho writers Ju prose and 
poetry. He may learn how to live, how to avoid 
tho errors of his predecossors, and to secure 
blessings, present and future, to himself, lie 
may reside in a desert, far away from tho habi¬ 
tations of man; in solitude, where no human 
eye looks upon him with affection or Interest, 
where no human voice cheers him with its ani¬ 
mating tones, if ho has books to road ho can 
nevor bo alone. He may choose his company, 
and the subject of conversation, and thus bo- 
como contented and happy, intelligent, wiso and 
good. Young people should heed those truths. 
u | 3 u«Icr. 
ILLUSTRATED REBUS-No. 3. 
EoN 
ta^T" Answer in two weeks, with tho names of 
those who send correct answers up to going to 
press. 
CR08S-W0RD ENIGMA-No. 2. 
My first is in sliver but not in gold, 
My second’s In upland but not in wold; 
My third Is In bitter but not in sweet. 
My fourth is in sandals but not in feet; 
My fifth is in rnarblo but not in top, 
My sixth is In workman but not in shop; 
My seventh’s in water but not in milk, 
My eighth U in cotton but. not In silk; 
My ninth la In acorn but not in oak, 
My tenth Is in bonnet but not In cloak; 
My whole is a flowor whoso heavenly hue 
Delighted me much when lifo was new. 
%W Answer In two weeks. Fourteen. 
PUZZLE.—No. 2. 
I have four letters. My first Is anoxclama- 
tion; my second is an author; theso two make 
part of a fish; my throo and four make some¬ 
thing like one. Transfer my first, to my end, and 
you will see a Mahometan chief. My wholois to 
travel and see the world’s great city. What am I ? 
£vf~ Answer in two weeks. 
-im- 
PROBLEM.—No. 1. 
At what time past apparent noon In latitude 
43” N. will tho Sun shine on tho north side of 
buildings, his declination being 23^ 4' N.? 
Answer in two woeks. S. G. Cagwxn. 
-♦♦♦- 
PUZZLER ANSWERS.-Jan. 4. 
Illustrated Rebus No. 1.—Happy New Year 
to everybody! 
Word and Phrase Puzzle No. 1. — Mr. 
Underwood being at tho point of death, they 
sent for his friends and relatives; and they sent 
for Dr. Curtis, who straight ways dashed to Dr. 
Barnes nnd implored hts assistance; but before 
ho arrived the invalid changed color, and the 
undertaker waa sent for. 
Cross-Word Enigma No. 1.—Juniata. 
Charade No. 1.—Madder. 
