THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
JULY 43 
limiting for flu goimg.' 
“ POCKET-MONEY FOR THE YOUNG 
PEOPLE.”—No. 9. 
MRS. A. E, STORY. 
Did anyone ever know a spirited young person 
whO’dld not prefer earning his "spending-money ” 
to having It as a gift from his elders ? It Is well, 
too, that young people should know "how the 
money comes” which Is theirs to spend. It trains 
them to a habit tr self-reliance. If the boy or girl 
who has to work patiently lor the wherewithal 
to purchase i he various little needs and pleasures 
so dear to the heart of youth, does not develop 
Into a painstaking, economical man and woman, 
the personal experience of thousands who had to 
earn the pennies that went to pay for their holi¬ 
day whittles, goes for nothing. 
My young Diend, to avoid the disagreeableness 
of doing something for which you have no liking, 
or what Is Worse, leaving It before It Is fairly be¬ 
gun, turn the question " What shall 1 do 7" over 
In your mind before you set to work. If you have 
a taste for poultry rearing and none for garden¬ 
ing, keep out of the garden by all means. It you 
ha^e no fancy for poultry, you will most likely be 
on the lookout for a calf or two, or a pig or a 
lamb, to raise on your own account. Calves, to¬ 
ward which youthful eyes are orten turned with 
longing, are killed because the milk cannot be 
spared for them. In such cases hay tea. with just 
milk enough to give It the color of coffee, has 
been found an excellent substltue. The tea 
should be made dally,—enough each time for two 
feeds. 
la some families the eggs over and above a 
stated number each day, are given to the child 
who gathers them. This answers for the "little 
shavers,” and It anyone thinks there will be 
many hens sitting around on stolon nests, let him 
try It and see. In the same way the surplus but¬ 
ter goes to " the girls ” to do as they please with 
It, aud when this Is done, even young girls, pro¬ 
vided they have been properly taught, may be 
safely trusted with the milk work without fear of 
having quantities of cream, at every skimming, 
left In rims around the pans, or otherwise wasted. 
A p dr of canary birds provided with a nest—a 
collar box Blurted with cotton to the proper shape, 
and lined with flannel, makes a good one—and 
given a little extra care In the way of keeping 
the cage supplied with food suitable for the 
young, may be made a source of prom. The 
proper food for the young birds is the yolks of a 
hard-boiled egg, made line and mixed with double 
the quantity of bread crumbs. Nothing else, save 
water and, of course, seed for the old birds, 
should be given. Green food of all kluds must, be 
kept away until the young ones are out of the 
nest-, which will be In about t.wo weeks alter 
hatching; and by that Lime the mother-bird will 
have commenced lay log a gala, To get l he you tig 
birds out of her way, put them, as soon as they 
begin to peck at the contents of the fced-dlsh— 
which should be kept in the bottom of the cage— 
into another cage. A healthy bird, If not too old, 
will rear several broods before the molting sea¬ 
son, when the nest should be taken away. A 
male bird orten sings a dot/ little when It-Is but 
three weeks o»d. 1 f a bird has not been heard to 
sing by the time It is six or seven weeks old, y ou 
may be pretty certain It la not a singer. One 
thing more: do not allow the cage to be taken 
from Its place after your bird has commenced 
laying, until the eggs are hatched. 
Here are several ways by which hoys and girls 
may “pick up a little money ’’ at certain seasons: 
By nut-gathering, especially If you live where 
chestnuts abound. Tney do not fill the measure 
so last as some other kinds, but they sell for 
more. By saving cherry stones, poach pits, apple 
seeds, etc,, for the nursery-men. To get the 
apple seeds: to.:e the cores after a quantity of the 
fruit has been pared and quartered, as for drying, 
put them in a barrel with water enough to float 
them, "churn” them for a tew minutes with a 
churn-dasher, skim out the cores and ttnd the 
seed, a quar t, or less, In the bottom of the barrel. 
Then for boys, there Is the trapping of minks, 
musk-rats, raccoons and other furry animals; but 
what farmer’s son doesn’t know all about that? 
How many a warm breakfast has been fo r gotten 
till it was no longer warm, while John, or Fred, 
or Tom, went whist,Hug off to the brook where 
his half-dozen Oneida Communities were setf 
Shooting game, too, Is a pastime which many 
boys contrive to turn to good account flnanclally, 
and when the passion for huntlog Is not Indulged 
In at the expense of the corn-husktng or apple- 
gathering, who shall say that the boys are luj ured 
by it 7 
- ♦ ♦♦ - 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
A Clantess. 
Dear Uncle True I am a new cousin seeking 
an Introduction. 1 have often wished to write be¬ 
fore, but visions of a grim editor aud a huge 
waste-basket loomed up before m* mental vision, 
and so terrified me that I never could pluck up 
courage to commit myself to paper. But this 
evening, asl was reading the Rural, 1 could con¬ 
tain myseir no longer. Bo now, after having 
spread myself over forty acres, more or less, of 
paper, I proceed to Introduce myself. 1 am 
Giantess, at your service. Now, what I want to 
know is this: What has “Blayerofconcelt” done7 
we missed six or seven Rurals since the 1st of 
January, so I am somewhat In the dark. "Wild 
Cherry,” you write that you "feel like saying 
dreadful things of him, but suppose you must 
not ” I see he has been catching It right and left* 
so I have felt for some time that I must take his 
pari. Poor fellow! every one seems to be down on 
him. But I see, Wild Cherry, that you hint at his 
thinking himself wiser than mankind In general, 
also that he speaks slightingly of girls. Now I tell 
you he touches me there I for J am a girl. Be¬ 
ware how you rouse me, for remember. I am a 
Giantess! Good Tor you. Wild Cherry, just stick 
to your version or the couplet concerning whist¬ 
ling girls. I whistle too—when 1 wish to. 
Hurrah 1 for Brown Badger. I just, tell you that 
you must stick to your resolution not to use 
liquor of any kind. But t here 11 never have heen 
credited with knowing enough to stop. 
Giantess. 
“ They Write tqo Old fer their Age.” 
Uncle True:— I scarcely know how to intro¬ 
duce myself. But for this 1 should have joined 
the Coustns long ago. I have Just, read Wild 
Cherry’s letter and like it, except that, I have the 
same opinion of her letter that I have had of 
many others among the Cousin’s letters: they 
write too old for their age. I am neither sixteen 
nor Blxty. You can guess all the way between— 
and under—H you choose; but please do not go 
abroad to And the Indefinite article. 1 have not 
the faintest hope that my letter will prove inter¬ 
esting to the Cousins, as theirs have, been to rne. 
I have been a. reader of the Rural for many 
years—If 1 should tell you how many, you would 
easily guess my age. In good time, I will tell 
you, If some one don’t guess It In the meantime. 
Unknown. 
Siabktb Icafag, 
DECREED. 
" Into all lives some rain must fall," 
Into all eyes some tear-drops start, 
Whether they fall as a gentle shower 
Or drop, like fire, from an aching heart. 
Into all hearts some sorrow must creep. 
Into all souls some doublings come. 
Lashing the waves of Life’s great deep 
From dimpling waters to seething foam. 
Over all pathways some clouds must lower, 
Under all feat Some sharp thorns spring. 
Tearing the flesh to bleeding wounds. 
Or entering the heart with their bitter sting. 
Upon all brows rough winds must blow, 
Over all shoulders a cross mtmt be lain, 
Bowing the form in its lofty bight 
Down to the dust in bttter pain. 
Into all hands is soma duty thrust, 
Unto all arms some burden given, 
Crushing the heart with its dreary weight, 
Or lifting the soul from earth to heaven. 
Into all hearts and homes and lives 
God’s dear sunshine comes streaming down, 
Gilding the ruins of Life’s great plain— 
Weaving for all a golden crown. 
INTERRUPTIONS IN OUR WORK. 
E. M. G. 
"We are created in Christ Jesus utilo good works, 
wh eh God hath before ordained that wu should 
walk in them.”—K imi. 11.10. 
Uk why tries to Infuse this spirit into his daily 
work will do it, earnestly. He will throw all his 
powers of heart and soul Into It; and whereas be¬ 
fore much of his duty has been done mechanic¬ 
ally, hla nobler faculties will now be called Into 
exercise In the doing of it. 
And the very earnestness with which the work 
Is now done may bring with It a snare. When 
the mind Is Intently bent upon one action, and 
that action Is felt to bo a serious one. It Is great¬ 
ly embarrassed and annoyed by Interruptions, 
other things making a claim upon the attention, 
distract and harass us. Of course It Is not so with 
the man who hangs about upon life with no seri¬ 
ous pursuit. Interruptions are to him a pleasing 
variety; nor can he at all appreciate the trial 
of which we speak. But In proportion to the 
serl jUsdcss with which the Christian does his 
work will be, If I may so say, his sensitiveness to 
Interruptions. And as this sensitiveness 1 b very 
apt to disturb bis peace (and In so doing retard 
Ills progress), we will show the manner In which 
Interruptions should be met, and the spirit with 
which they should be encountered. 
The great remedy, then, for the sensitiveness 
to which I have alluded, Is a closer study of the 
mind that was In Christ, as that mind transpires 
In Ills recorded conduct. The point In the life of 
Our Lord to which I wish to call attention, Is t he 
apparent want of what may be called method or 
plan In Hla life,—I mean method or plan or Hla 
own devising, the fact that his good works were 
not In pursuance of some scheme laid down by 
nimBelf, but such as entered Into God’s scheme 
tor Him, such as the Father had prepared for 
Him to walk in. And, first, notice His discourses, 
both In their occasions and In th dr contexture. 
They moat orten take their rise from some ob¬ 
ject which is thrown across Ills path In nature, 
from some occurrence w r hleh takes plaoe under 
His eyes, or from some question which Is put to 
Him. For the wonderful discourse In John vL 
upon the Living Bread, we are entirely Indebted 
to the circumstance that arter the miracle of the 
loaves the carnal multitude sought Him, in anx¬ 
iety to have their natural wants once again satis¬ 
fied by miracle. It was not that Jesus had previ¬ 
ously prepared them for such a discourse; but 
this was the discourse which their conduct drew 
from Him.—He meets a Samaritan woman at 
Jacob’s well, and oppressed with the noontide 
heat, asks her for water from her bucket. Her 
answer leads on to a close dealing with the 
woman’s conscience, and to the announcement 
of certain great truths respecting that living 
Water, whereor whosoever dtjnketh shall never 
thirst. But here again the words rise spontane¬ 
ously from the occasion.—The murmurs of the 
Pharisees and Scribes, because Jesus received 
Blnners and ate with them, elicited for our ever¬ 
lasting consolation the noble parables of the lost 
sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son.—An 
observation falling from a guest at table, a mere 
devour, sentiment casually dropped In His hear¬ 
ing, "Blessed Is he that shall eat bread In the 
kingdom or God," drew from Ills Ups the parable 
of the great Supper.—A certain man asked Him 
to undertake an arbitration between himself and 
hla brother as to their respective shares of their 
hereditary property. This suggested to Our Lord 
ihe topic of covetousness, and the parable of the 
rich fool, Illustrative or that topic. 
AH the above are instances In which Scripture 
Itself explicitly traces the connection between 
cerialn occasions and the discourses of Our Lord. 
And divines have recognized many others, where 
i he connection, though not expressed, Is not ob¬ 
scurely implied. 
But a similar remark holds good respecting the 
contexture of these wonderful discourses. For 
our Lord’s great discourses are not constructed 
upon any such method or plan as the human 
Intellect recognizes. Take the Sermon on the 
Mount, and try to analyze it. You will find that 
It defies methodical analysis. While no bead of 
Christian precept Is left untouched, there Is no 
such systematic arrangement as we can easily 
put upon paper. There was no doubt an under¬ 
current of thought In the mind of the lHvlne 
I’reacher, welding together the different sections 
or the great Sermon, and leading Him on fluently 
from topic to toplo; but nothing can less wear 
the aspect of a discourse framed upon a dry pre¬ 
conceived plan. Doubtless It was as the swallow 
caught Ills eye, Rklmmlng along to Its nest with 
food for Its young, and as the Illy or blue-bell of 
Palestine waved before niui on the hill-side, that 
He took occasion to illustrate Hla precepts against 
worldly carefulness by those wonderful sections, 
beginning, “ Behold the fow ls of the air," " Con¬ 
sider the lilies of the field.” This Is the only plan 
observable In the discourse,—the plan of a loving 
heart pouring ltseli out, as occasion serves, for 
the edification of mankind. 
But the absence Of mere human plan, or rather 
strict faithfulness to the plau of God, as hourly 
developed by the movements of Hts Providence, 
characterizes the life of Our Lord even more than 
Ills discourses. Uls object throughout tanot to 
carry out schemes preconceived by Himself, but 
to study God's gut Hugs, and to be true to God’s 
Inspirations. Take only that portion of Ills Ufe 
recorded In a single chapter,—the ninth of St. 
Matthew. Jesus is interrupted In the midst of a 
discourse which lie was holding In the house, by 
the appearance of a couch with a palsied man 
upon It, lowered Into the midst of the court under 
Ills eyes. 8o far from accounting the Interrup¬ 
tion unseasonable, He first absolves, and then 
heals the patient, and thus secures glory to God 
from the multitude. The miracle performed, He 
passes out Into the open air, perhaps for refresh¬ 
ment, and Ills eye catches Matthew sitting at the 
receipt of custom. He calls him, and Matthew 
follows. Matthew invites Our Lord to a meal, aud 
our Lord accepts the Invitation; sits down with 
publicans and sinners, and profits by the occasion 
to speak of the rreenessof Bis Grace.—In connec¬ 
tion probably with His appearance at a festival, 
the disciples of John ask Him wtiy Jits disciples 
did not fast. He explains why. Jalrus comes to 
solicit Uls merciful interference m behalf or a 
dying daughter. Jesus follows him forthwith to 
his house, when, lo and behold, another Interrup¬ 
tion, which to the feelings of Jalrua, all Impatient 
to have the great llctler under his roof, must 
have been extremely galling. Tne woman with 
an issue or blood steals a cure from Him cn the 
road. Jesus stops to draw from her an acknowl¬ 
edgment of the benefit, and to dismiss her with 
a word of consolation and blessing. Then He re¬ 
sumes Ills former errand of love, arrives at Jalrus’ 
house, and raises the dead maiden.—Coming out, 
probably on His return to Ills own abode, the 
blind men follow Him Into the house, and receive 
lheir cure.—They have scarcely gone out, when 
the man possessed with a dumb devil is brought 
to Him, and restored; and thus ends the detailed 
portion of the chapter, what follows being a gen¬ 
eral and summary survey. 
This Is a good specimen of Our Lord’s whole 
way of life, and of how He went about doing good, 
not on a rigid, unbending, preconcerted plan, but 
as the Father, In thecourssor Uls Providence, 
ministered to Him the occasion. 
Now, as God ordained beforehand certain good 
works In which the Bon of Hla Love waa to walk, 
so He deals with each follower of Hla Bon, accord¬ 
ing lo the humble capacity of that follower, on a 
similar principle. Christian, whoever you are, 
whatever your station, God has a plan of life for 
you, a plan of doing good,—certain occasions and 
opportunities of doing good all mapped out for 
you In Hie eternal counsels. These occasions and 
opportunities are to arise day by day upon you, 
as you pursue your beaten path of life, Justus 
while the globe turns round upon Its axis, the 
sun In course of time rises upon those parts of It 
which before were dirk. Now this, perhaps, Is a 
novel view to some of my readers. They are un¬ 
customed to think of the place which Our Lord 
has prepared for His followers,—of the Joys which 
God haH prepared tor those who unfelgnedly love 
Him;—but they think comparatively little of the 
bphere of good works, which Is just as much pre¬ 
pared for them to occupy here as Is the sphere of 
glory hereafter. Yet this Is a certain and Infalli¬ 
ble truth. If God hath before ordained certain 
persons to eternal life, He hath also before or¬ 
dained good works for those Individuals to walk 
in. 
do you believe that the whole of your affairs— 
trivial us well ns great, Irregular as well as in the 
ordinary course—are under his absolute, dally, 
hourly supervision and control ? that nothing 
can possibly arise to you or any other, which 
Is hot foreseen by Him, arranged for by Him, 
brought by lllm within the circle of His great 
plan? that the little incidents of each day, as 
well as the solemn crisis of life, are Uls ordering? 
Then you virtually concede all that the Apostle 
asserts In this verso. For you admit that the oc¬ 
currences of each day, however uulooked for, 
however contrary to expectation, are God-sent, 
4 
and those which affect you sent specially and 
with discrimination to yourself. 
Now it cBT>not,bo thought that God sends 
events to a living soul, In order that the scul 
may be simply passive under the events. If God 
sends you an event, It must have a meaning; It 
must be a sign to you that you are to do some¬ 
thing, to brace yourself up to some action or to 
somestateor feeling. All tint God sends to a 
human spirit must he significant, God has sent 
us Bis Word. We know that Ho designs us not 
simply to hear it, but to embrace It. wltb a living 
faith and a loving obedience. We are to medi¬ 
tate upon It, to apply It to our con sciences, 
mold our character and conduct In conformity 
to It. Now the same God who has sent us His 
Word equally sends us the dally occurrences of 
life, the chief difference being that, whereas the 
Word has a general voice for all, In which each 
is to find his own case represented, the occur¬ 
rences are charged with a more specific message 
to Individuals. Now there is many a mail who 
says, " I will conform myself to the general In¬ 
dications of God's Will made tome by Ills Word 
comparllvely few who say, " I will conform my¬ 
self to the special Indication of God’s Will made 
to me by his Providence.” But why so few ? 
Does not God come home to us more closely, 
more searcblngly, mare personally by Ills Provi¬ 
dence than even by His Word? Does not His 
Auger rest upon each of us more particularly In 
the government of affairs than even in Revela¬ 
tion? And why are we to Imagine, asmany seem 
to Imagine, that no other events but such as are 
afflictive and calamitous have a voice for us? 
Way not every event ? AVhy Is not the ordinary 
intercourse or Ufe to be regarded as furnishing 
In God’s design and intention opportunities of 
elthir doing or receiving good? I say of doing 
or receiving good. Surely either one or tho other 
Is a thing grealty to; be coveted. In nine cases 
out or ten we may fall of doing good; but If In 
l hose cases we have received good, and received 
It too In the course of ills plan for us, and In the 
way of Uls Providence, surely the occurrence 
which has eaUed us off from our ordinary pur¬ 
suit Is not to be regretted. 
Here, then, lies the real remedy for the un- 
eastneasof mlDd whlchls caused by Interruptions, 
view them as part of God’s loving and wise plan 
for your day, and try to make out His meaning 
In sending them. When In your hour of morn¬ 
ing devotion you distribute your time before hand 
(as It Is lrj every way wise and proper to do), let 
It. always be so with the proviso that the said 
arrangement shall be subject to modifications by 
God’s plan for you, as that plan shall unfold it¬ 
self hour by hour to your apprehensions. When 
you have entered upon the day, observe nar¬ 
rowly the quarter In which His finger points, 
and be true to that direction. There lies thy 
prepared task. There are the good works, not 
which thou hast devised, but In which God 
hath before ordained thatthoushouldest walk. 
A case of distress Is flung Id your way as you 
ere bound upon your dally occupations. The 
spirit of the age says, “Dismiss It,- you have no 
time to spare,—leave It to the Poor-house and 
pass on.” Or l ; Is suggested, In the midst of your 
avocations, that there is some word of sympathy 
to be said or to be written to a friend In trouble, 
only a cup of cold water In point of Intrinsic 
value, but still a very refreshing one to a man 
in the furnace of affliction. "But you are too 
much occupied," says the busy, bustling, hard 
eplrlt of jhe age; " you have no time for sympa¬ 
thies or sentimentalities; you must go forward ; 
if you desire to be successful in life, you cannot 
afford to stop on the way.” Now without denying 
that In particular cases such counsel may ndinlt 
of palliation In a greater or less degree, truth 
compels us to say tbat this was not the mind 
which waB Id Christ Jesus. 
JIls ear was never inaccessible to human suffer¬ 
ing, and Hla mind was never unobservant of 
God’s plans, lie does not pass over the woman 
with the Issue of blood. He does not leave her 
without her lesson and w ithout her consolation, 
because he Is bound on an errand of love to the 
house of Jalrus. He does not make occasions 
bend to Him; but, knowing that occasions are 
the Father’s call, He addresses Himself to serve 
occasions. He la constantly redeeming the op¬ 
portunity." 
But supposing that, during the day no opportu¬ 
nity occurs of cuiing good. Supposing, for exam¬ 
ple, that the case of distress Into which we have 
patiently examined turns out, us It very fre¬ 
quently will, to he a gross imposture,—have we, 
therefore, lost our labor In a spiritual point of 
view ? Not surely, If we have conformed our will 
to God’s design for us. The radical fault of our 
nature, be It remembered, Is self-will; and we 
little suspect, how largely self-will and self- 
pleasing may be at the bottom of plana and pur¬ 
suits, which still have God's glory and the fur¬ 
therance of Ills Service for their professed end. 
The path which we have Indicated Is the path 
not of sanctity only, but of peace also. We shall 
never serve God with a quiet, mind, unless we 
more or less tread in this path. It Is a miserable 
thing to be tho sport and prey of interruptions: 
It wastes the energies or the human spirit, and 
excites frctfulness, and so leads us Into tempta¬ 
tion, as It Is written, “ Fret not thyself; else shalt 
thou be moved to do evil." But suppose the mind 
to he well grounded In the truth that God’a fore¬ 
sight and fore-arrangement embraces all which 
seems to us an Interruption,—that In this inter¬ 
ruption lies awaiting us a good work In which It 
Is part of His Eternal counsel that wo should 
walk, or a good frame of mind which he .wishes 
us to cultivate ; then we aro fore-armed against 
surprises and contradictions; wo have found an 
alchemy Which converts each unforeseen and un¬ 
toward occurrence Into gold; and the balm of 
peace distils upon our heart', even though we be 
disappointed or the end which wo had proposed 
to ourselves. For which la better, safer, sweeter, 
—to walk In the works which God hath before or¬ 
dained, or to walk in the way of our own heart 
and In the sight of our eyes Y 
