258 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
APRIL 20 
grafting for % gottitg. 
COPPER TOES. 
Little Ned aw<l I were wandering, 
Out beyond the maple lane. 
Gathering the brown leaves of Autumn, 
Listening to the birds’ refrain, 
When we passed a raided youngster 
Lounging in a mnnnieb pose, 
Hatless, In it with feet rejoicing 
In u pair of copper toes. 
From that hour Nod’s buttoned buskins 
Wore regarded with disdain; 
Creamy klde and b ion rod moroccos 
Both were offered him in vain. 
When *’ Our Father ” was repeated, 
By my side at evening’s close, 
He would add, “ Pease pend to Neddy 
A now pair of topper toes I” 
As the watolied-for Christinas neared us, 
Every evening darling Ned 
Huug his little stocking, slyly, 
Close beside Ills cosy bed; 
Aud behold a paper fastened 
To liia dainty Mtrtped hose, 
Covered with queer hieroglyphics. 
And a sketch of copper toe*. 
Wheu I innocently questioned. 
Hinting that my eyes were dim, 
Taking off the folded paper, 
Wliieh was fastened with a pin, 
Would he to his precious mamma 
That strange cryptograph disclose ? 
“Santa Cans, pnare bring to Neddy 
A nice pair of topper toes.” 
Thie he road witti pleading pathos, 
And a conference aside 
Quite decided that our darling’s 
Wish must never lie denied. 
When ho wakened Christmas morning, 
With cheeks Hushed coultur dc rote, 
How the joyous dimples deepened 
As he donned his copper toes 1 
[Helen M. Warner. 
-- 
THE PRIVATE HISTORY OF AN EAR OF 
CORN, 
BY THU COB. 
Ouh family Is an extensive one, but the stalk 
from which we sprung was select. We trace back 
to a special variety that was, at the time of our 
introduction, the subject of extended notice by 
the unsubsldlzod agricultural proas. Though our 
family name, Corn, Is almost as ordinary as 
smith, yet our stalk was exceptionally, distin¬ 
guished. Every member of the cob was a kernel 1 
We were raised with great uaro; the methods 
employed in our cultivation assured a satisfactory 
result. As I look back on the days of our youth, 
I arn sure our subsequent careers could not lmvp 
been predicted from so calm and ordinary a be¬ 
ginning. 
Ah those halcyon days! How fond recollection 
recalls the familiar Held bounded by a fence of 
elegant proportions that rnodostly embraced our 
boundaries, yielding protection without obtruding 
a visible constraint. The long, even furrows of 
generous soil; the drills or mathematical precision, 
aud the good-natured rivalry manifested by each 
grain to over-top Its fellows, are never to be for¬ 
gotten. And later, as we grew to maturity, with 
what prldo we displayed the glossy, flowing silk 
to the best advantage, and with what secret 
satisfaction we admitted to ourselves that our 
silk was Incomparable ; while we damned wltn 
faint praise less fortunate companions. 
Our Immediate family was spared the Indignity 
of being picked for roastlug-ears, and while we 
commiserated the fate of those who were pulled 
off before their prime, we could not but reflect on 
the advantages and privileges of springing from 
a superior varloty; such as are not subjected to 
ruthless Interruption at a time when freedom 
from attack Is all Important to the attaining of a 
fair growth. I must repeat, those were happy 
times. During September, wo had the first taste 
of that dlstluctlon that afterwards lent, the pleas¬ 
antest flavor to existence. We were dlstlngushed 
at the State Fair I With what envy less Tuvored 
corn looked upon us. With what mock enthu¬ 
siasm they congratulated us when the blue ticket, 
denoting a flrst premium, was attached to our 
side. How they laughed with counterfeited glee 
as we returned thanks in voices “ husky” with 
emotion 1 
Shortly after this triumph we passed through 
our first trial, and our adventures may be said 
to have fairly begun. Wo were thrown Into a wag¬ 
on, not too softly, and carried away with a great 
number of quite common cobs—wbo from their 
foolish converse plainly indicated that they had 
not reached to ears of discretion,—and hurried off 
to a formidable looking machine up whoso In¬ 
clined plane we could observe numbers of our 
kind gaily moving. It came our turn presently, 
and while we felt It our duly to so comport our¬ 
selves as to be an example to our uncultivated 
companions still 1 admit, In confluence, that i 
could understand the feeling that prompted their 
light conduct. They were only abouL llrty-llve 
pounds to the bushel, and could doc be expected 
to. display weighL and dignity of manner It Is 
only the fortune of slxty-ilvers, moving In beBt 
soils, to possess. 
We were shocked out of all sense of propriety 
by an ominous, rumbling sound that presaged a 
horrid danger. Our family preserved a calm ex¬ 
terior but I felt tremblings along my entire 
length which conclusively showed that nothing 
but a hlgh-sense of what was due to their exalted 
variety restrained them from leaping from their 
faithful cob, In an agony of fear. But then, be¬ 
ing a military family—all kernels, at, that,—such 
an action was not to be thought of. We taoed the 
music, and amidst the shrieks of companions in 
misery, plunged off the scaffolding Into a black 
vortex that seized me with an Iron grip, and In¬ 
humanly tore each separate grain from the cob. 
I felt myself enter into the Jawa or death—as I 
thought, i was conscious of a violent wrench,then 
a heavy pressure and Rerlea of excruciating 
shocks, as each of my devoted relatives were 
t orn asunder and sent bleeding and shrieking un¬ 
der a swittly revolving fan. Th«ncc they thread¬ 
ed numerous labyrinths, finally emerging into 
a receptacle placed to receive them,while 1, shorn 
of relatives, denuded, and a miserable demoral¬ 
ized cob generally, was shot up on an incline and 
on into a waslo place where I remained until the 
following day. 
From this time forth I may be excused from ob¬ 
truding my personal history on the reader of 
these recoiled ions. Mine was to he, henceforth, 
an uneventful, sedentary life, mainly of conse¬ 
quence because of tny ability to loam and relate 
the advent ures of our family. At, this writing, as 
1 reBt upon the surface of the earth, slowly disin¬ 
tegrating, I can see how my life has not been 
without 11 a purpose. It might not bo uninterest¬ 
ing to state that previous to my coming here I 
was for a long time the familiar cob-pipe of a 
poor, but intelligent country editor. It was from 
this association that, I acquired a taste for literary 
work, and It may bo observed, I think, that my 
composition has a practiced, cyclopedic, but hur¬ 
ried stylo that Is usual with those who cater to 
the appetites of Intelligent, readers, while at the 
same time they ponder on the ways and means 
of making the subscriber satisfy their own.—[To 
bo continued. 
-- 
TALK IN THE SILENT.* WORLD. 
Tms German system may literally be called 
the art of teaching the dumb to speak. This will 
hardly appear impossible If It bo borne iu mind 
that the vocal organa oi congenitally deaf persons 
are, so long as they are young, unimpaired. The 
faculty of producing sound is there, but the Idea 
of sound not being present, no attempt to em¬ 
ploy It Is made. it Is true that by long disuse 
the larynx loses tho vocal properly, hut in the 
cose of deaf children there Is very little difficulty 
In Inducing them to utter articulate sounds, 
not so clear and musical as those produced from 
persons who are riot, deaf, but distinct aud In¬ 
telligible. At the same time the eye of the pupil 
becomes educated to follow the Ups of the speak¬ 
ers, and to gather from their movements the 
words uttered. The process of teaching children 
on the German system la curious and interesting. 
The first.aim Is to strengthen and expand the 
vocal organs by gentle exercise, the next to train 
tho pupil lo watch the motion or the Ups and 
tongue, and endeavor to copy them, 'flic ueoftC 
of sound to which t he auditory nervo Is (lead, Is 
next conveyed through the sense of touch, the 
pupils being taught, to feel tho vibrations in 
their own throats and bodies when sound Is 
emitted, and to learn to control these vibrations 
at will. When a correct understanding and use 
or all tho vowels aud consonants luivo been ob¬ 
tained, the pupils are ready to form words and 
use them as we do. The building up or language 
now commences on a plan slmnta r to that which 
nature follows when children learn to talk by 
Car. Simple words and every-day phrases come 
flrst, tho more difficult being gradually built up¬ 
on and out or the simpler forms of expression; 
and the closer the arttflclal educational plan ap¬ 
proaches to tho natural ear-taught process, the 
better will be the result In tho end. 
In sumo German schools a a few natural ges¬ 
tures are allowed tube used In the early stages of 
teaching, but tho highest typo of the system is 
steadfastly opposed to all signs, and makes the 
pupils depend entirely On language us addressed 
to the eye, tho meaning being convoyed by anal¬ 
ogy, and language evolved out or language, as 
one problem la Euclid springs naturally from tho 
one that precedes It. it, must riot, be supposed 
that extraordinary intelligence Is required in the 
pupils. Dear children are very observant, and 
when pains aro taken to talk to and with them 
they soon loam to converse freely with those 
whom they meet constantly, conversational lan¬ 
guage must not bo looked tor In the flrst two 
years of instruction, ror it must be borne in mind 
that a child wheu Its hearing Is perfect, takes a 
long time w learn to talk, but about the third or 
fourth year pupils or average ability begin to 
apeak very intelligibly. One concession and one 
only, the deaf children require, aud that Is, that 
all speaking to them Bhall open their mouths 
widely and enunciate with distinctness, a habit, 
valuable In all, and, as the archbishop of Canter¬ 
bury remarked, at tho meeting at. Lambeth Pal¬ 
ace, Invaluable to clergymen. This Is ‘‘all that 
Is necessary to put them on a level with others, 
and to enable them to make their way In the 
world.” In Vienna, a rancy leather merchant, 
who was born deaf and dumb, employed seventy 
under him. The Emperor and Empress of Aus¬ 
tria visited Ids workshop before the Vlanna Exhi¬ 
bition ; he could not, only speuk the language of 
his CDlMWry fluently, but also a little English. The 
leather merchant had visited England and other 
countries; was a practical horticulturist,, and al¬ 
together an agreeable, Intelligent, wealthy man 
—wealthy through his own talents and ludustry. 
In a hatter's shop in Frledberg there Isatoto- 
congenltal dear workman. A man was convicted 
ror theft, principally on the evidence given vtve 
vora. in open court by that deaf workman, who 
stood the test of examination and cross-examina¬ 
tions without any other method of communica¬ 
tion being used than word of mouth. 
JMIratjj pairing, 
“ONLY WAITING.” 
Only waiting till tho shadows are a little longer 
grown; 
Only waiting till the glimmer of the last day's beam is 
flown; 
Till the night of earth is faded from the heart once 
full of day; 
Till the stars of heaven are breaking through the twi¬ 
light soft and gray. 
Only waiting till the reapers have the last sheaf gath¬ 
ered home, 
For the summer time has faded and the autumn winds 
have oume. 
Quickly reapers, gather quickly, these last ripe hours 
of my heart, 
For the bloom of life is withered and I hasten to de¬ 
part, 
Only waiting till the shadows are a little longer 
grown; 
Only waiting tfll the glimmer of the day’s last beam is 
flown; 
Then from out the gathered darkness holy, deathless 
stars shall rise, 
By whose light my soul shall gladly tread its pathway 
to the skies. 
-- 
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF JESUS. 
LuKe ix. 10 ,17. 
The place at which these events occurred was 
near the head of the Sea of Galilee, where It re¬ 
ceives the waters of the upper Jordan. This was 
one of the Saviour’s favorite places of resort. Ca¬ 
pernaum, Chorasln, and Bethsalda, all In this Im¬ 
mediate vicinity, are always spoken or In the 
Gospels as towns which enjoyed the largest share 
of his ministerial labors, and wero distinguished 
most frequently with the honor of his personal 
presence. The people, removed at ft oonnhicrablo 
distance from the metropolis of Judea, cultivated 
those rural habltB with which tho simple tastes of 
the Saviour would most readily harmoutzo. Near 
thtsspot was also one of the most, frequented 
fords of the Jordan, on the road from Damascus 
to Jerusalem; and thus, while residing hero, ho 
enjoyed unusual facilities for disseminating 
throughout this whole region a knowledge of 
those truths which he came on earth to promul¬ 
gate. 
Some weeks previously to tho timo In which the 
events spoken of In this text occurred, our Lord 
had sent, his disciples t o announce the approach 
of the kingdom of heaven, In all tho cities aud 
villages which ho himself proposed to visit, no 
conferred on them the power to work miracles, In 
attestation of their authority, and of the divine 
character of 111m by whom they were sent. Ho 
Imposed upon them strict rules of conduct, and 
directed them, to make known to every one who 
would hear them the good news of t he coming 
dispensation. As soon as he seat them forth, he 
himself went Immediately abroad to teach and 
to preach in their cities. As their Master anti 
Lord, he might reasonably have claimed exemp¬ 
tion from tho personal toll and tho rigid seix-de- 
nlaiH to which they were by necessity subjected. 
But be laid claim lo no such exemption. He com¬ 
menced without delay the performance of the 
very Bame duties which he had Imposed upon 
them. He felt himself under obligation to set an 
exampleof obedience to hlsnwu rules. 
it seems that tho Saviour had selected a well- 
known spot, at the head of the lake, for the place 
of meeting for his apostles, after this their first 
missionary tour had been completed. “The 
apostles gathered themselves uuto Jesus, and 
told him all things, both what they had done, 
and what they had taught.” There Is something 
delightrul In this filial confidence which those 
simple-hearted men reposed In their Almighty 
Redeemer. They told him of their success and 
their failure, or their wisdom and their folly, of 
their reliance and their unbelief. We can almost 
Imagine ourselves spectators of this meeting be¬ 
tween Christ and them, after tills their first sepa¬ 
ration from each other. The place appointed was 
most probably somo well-known locality on the 
shore of the lake, under the shadow of its over¬ 
hanging rocks, where the cool air from the bosom 
or the water refreshed each returning laborer, os 
he came back beaten out. with the fatigues of 
travel, under the burning sun of Syria. You can 
Imagine tho joy with which each drew near 
lo the Master, after this temporary absence; aud 
tho honest greetings with which over}' new com¬ 
er was welcomed by those who had clianoed to 
arrive before him. Wo seem to perceive the Sa¬ 
viour of men listening with affectionate earnest¬ 
ness to the recital of their various adventures; 
and Interposing, from time to time, a word either 
of encouragement or of caution, as the character 
and circumstances of each narrator required It. 
The toilsomeness of their Journey was uo longer 
remembered, as each oue received from the Sou 
of God Hie smile of his approbation. That was 
truly a Joyful meeting, 
The Saviour perceived that the apost les needed 
much instruction which could not be communi¬ 
cated In a place where both he and thoy were so 
well-known. They had committed many errors, 
which ho preferred to correct In private. By do¬ 
ing his will, they had learned to repose greater 
confidence In his wisdom, and were prepared to 
receive from him more Important Instruction. 
But these lessons could not be delivered in the 
hearing or a promiscuous audience. Nor was this 
all. Ho porcolvod time the apostles wore worn 
out with their labors and needed repose. Sur¬ 
rounded as they were by the multitude, which 
had already begun to collect about them, reHt 
and retirement were equally impossible. He 
therefore said to them, “Come ye yourselves 
apartlnto a desert place and rest a while.” For 
this purpose, ho “took ship, and crossed over 
with his disciples alone, and went Into a desert 
place belonging to Bethsalda.” 
The apostles had been for some time past be¬ 
fore the eyes of all men, preaching and working 
miracles. Their souls needed retirement. They 
would be greatly improved by private communion 
both with him and with each other. It was for 
the purpose of affording them such a season of 
moral recreation, that our Lord withdrew them 
from the public gaze into a desert place. Nor 
was this all. Their labors for some weeks past 
had been severe. They had traveled on foot un¬ 
der a tropical sun, reasoning with unbeliev¬ 
ers, Instructing the Ignorant, and comforting 
the down-cast. Called upon, at all horns, both 
of the day and night, to work cures on those 
that were oppressed with diseases, their bodies, 
no less than their spirits, needed rest. Our Lord 
saw this, and he made provision for it. He with¬ 
drew them from labor, that they might And, 
though It were but for a day, tho repose which 
their exhausted natures demanded. 
Jesus with his disciples, crossed the water, and 
entered the desert; that Is, the sparsely inhabit¬ 
ed country of Bethsalda. Desert, or wilderness, 
in the Now Testament, does not mean an arid 
wosto, but pasture land, forest, or any district to 
which one should retire for Becluslon. Here, In 
tho cool and tranquil neighborhood or the lake,he 
began to instruct his disciples, and without Inter¬ 
ruption, make known to them the mysteries of 
tho kingdom. It wa9 one of those seasons that 
the Saviour himself rarely enjoyed. Everything 
tended to repose: the rustling leaves, the rippling 
waves, the Bong of the birds, heard more distinct¬ 
ly in this rural solitude, all served to calm the 
spirit ruffled by the agitations or the world, and 
prepare to listen to the truths which unveil to us 
eternity. Here our Lord could unbosom himself, 
without reserve, to his chosen few, and hold 
with them that communion which he was rarely 
permitted to enjoy during his mlnlstery on 
earth. 
Soon, however, the whole scene Is changed. 
The multitude, whom he had so recently left, 
having observed the direction In which he had 
gone, have discovered the place of his retreat- 
An Immense crowd approaches, and the little 
company Is surrounded by a dense mass of hu¬ 
man beings pressing upon them on every side. 
These are, however, only the pioneers. At last, 
live thousand men, besides women and children, 
aro beheld thronging around them. 
Somo of these suitors present most importunate 
claims. Thoy are In soarch of cure for diseases 
which have baffled the skill of the medical pro¬ 
fession, and, as a last resort, they have come to 
the Messiah for aid. Here was a parent bringing 
a consumptive child. There were children bear¬ 
ing on a couch a paralytic parent. Here was a 
sister leadinga brother blind from his birth, while 
her supplications were drowned by the shout of a 
ircnzlod lunatic who was standing by her side. 
Every ouo, believing bla own claim to be the most 
urgent, pressed forward with selfish Importunity. 
Each one, caring for no other than himself, was 
striving to attain the front rank, while those be¬ 
hind, disappointed, and fearing to lose this Im¬ 
portant opportuhlty, were eager to occupy the 
places of those more rortunate than themselves. 
The necessary tumult and disorder of such a 
scene you can better Imagine than I can de- 
sribe. 
This was, doubtless, by no means a welcome In¬ 
terruption, The apostles needed the time for 
rest; for they were worn out In the public ser¬ 
vice. They wanted It tor Instruction; tor such 
opportunities of Intercourse with Christ were 
rare. But what did they do7 Did our Lord In¬ 
form tho multitude that this day was set apart 
for their own refreshment and Improvement, and 
that they could not bo interrupted 7 Aa he be¬ 
held them approaching, did he quietly take to his 
boat, and leave them to go homo disappointed 7 
Did he plead his own convenience, or hla need of 
repose, os any reason for not attending to the 
pressing necessities of his follow-men 7 
No, very far rrom It. Tho providence of God 
had brought those multitudes before him, and 
that same providence forbade him to send them 
away unblessed. Ho at once broke up the con¬ 
ference with his disciples, and addressed hlrnself 
to tho work before him. Uls instructions were of 
Inestimable Importance; but l doubt If oven they 
were as Important as tho exampleof deep humil¬ 
ity, oxhaustless kindness, and affecting compas¬ 
sion which he here exhibited. You can Imagine 
yourself tho Saviour rising from his seat, In the 
midst of bis disciples, and presenting himself to 
the approaching multitude?.. Hla calm dignity 
awes lnto-sllence this tumultuous gathering of 
the people. Those who came out to witness tho 
tricks of an empiric, or listen to the ravings of a 
fanatic, rind themselves unexpectedly, In a pres¬ 
ence that repels every emotion but that, of pro¬ 
found veneration. The ltgut-hoartod and frlval- 
ous are awe-struck by tho unearthly majesty that 
seems to clothe the Messiah as with a garment. 
And yet It was a majesty that shone forth con¬ 
spicuous, most of ail, by tho manifestation of un- 
paralled goodness. Every eye that, met the eye 
or t he Saviour quailed before him; tor it looked 
into a soul that had never sinned ; and the spir¬ 
it of tho sinner felt, for the first time, tho full 
power of immaculate virtue. 
Thus tho Saviour passed among the crowd, aud 
" healed all that had need of healing” The lame 
walked, the lepers were cleansed, the blind re¬ 
ceived their sight, tho paralytic were restored to 
soundness, aud the bloom of health revisited the 
cheeks of those that but Just now were sick unto 
death,—[To be continued. w < 
