4886 
THE riURAL NEW-YORKER. 
HOW SHALL WE EDUCATE OUR CHIL¬ 
DREN AGRICULTURALLY? 
ADELINE E. STORY. 
What prevents farmers' sons from folloioing 
their fathers' calling; if the fathers are 
content, the children are likely to he; 
drawbacks to farm life; overwork; need 
of studying p. boy's “bent,” and a girl's 
reasonable desires; the question of dress 
for both; why farmers should he proud of 
their calling; give the youngsters a chance 
to learn something; give them pleasures; 
wake in them an interest in farm work; 
social entertainments; a happy home the 
right end of all endeavors. 
Wren wo consider how many of our young 
jwople annually forsake the farm for a life in 
the city, the question of education with a view 
to forestalling this tendency becomes of im¬ 
portance, Naturally a boy should follow the 
calling of his father. That the sons of farmers 
so exceptionally often refuse to do so, shows 
conclusively that there must lie something 
wrong. What is this something? Is it an 
inherent feeling peculiar to the nature of the 
country-bon i child? Is it that farm life 
affords fewer opportunities for enjoyment 
than life elsewhere, or is it the outgrowth of a 
wrong system of training ? 
Education with the child begins the moment 
he is old enough to take notice of what is going 
on around him. His future course in life as 
well as his success in it must depend largely 
upon the training lie receives. A parent's first 
duty, after providing for the health and com¬ 
fort of his child, is to seek to promote, by every 
means in his power, its present and future 
happiness and usefulness. Do we, as farmers, 
desire that our children, in making choice of 
a way of living, should choose our way? Then 
must they be made to see by our actions that 
we believe it to be the best way. We cannot 
expect our boys and girls to see benefit in a 
course of life which we ourselves are for ever 
grumbling about. But we must lie more than 
content wfth our calling. We must be in love 
with it. It. is not enough that our children 
are bora to farm life simply. They must be 
born into an atmosphere of love for it. They 
will be much more easily taught contentment I 
if made to see that they have everything to be 
contented with. 
Then, too, if a farmer is enthusiastically in 
love with his business, he will he pretty cer¬ 
tain to make a success of it, and here he will 
find another and a strong incentive to his chil¬ 
dren to become farmers, for even young chil¬ 
dren are not slow to see the advantage of hav¬ 
ing plenty of money; and if their father has 
less of it, or less of the comforts it brings, 
than the man who keeps the corner grocery, 
then the natural conclusion is that it would 
be better to sell the farm and buy a corner 
grocery. As a rule, there is too much work 
and too little play on the farm. It is not that 
the work is too hard, or that in itself it is 
more disagreeable than work in general; but 
it is more constant—is begun earlier in the 
morning and kept up later at night. Then 
there is too little notice taken of how the work 
is done, provided the young workers merely 
keep going,.and that acts as a damper on any 
little pride they might take in doing it well. 
Then boys are too often set to work alone, 
and isolation is a thing not relished by the 
young. The prospect of something pleasant 
to come, say at the close of each day, might 
help to quell many a feeling of discontent; but 
instead of rest and recreation, what does the 
night bring? First chores, then chores, then 
again chores! Many a farmer owes his son’s 
leaving the old home, to struggle against, the 
temptations of a life for which he is unpre¬ 
pared, to chores alone. Not that they need 
be so dreadful if rightly managed, but when 
left to be done by the boy who has worked in 
the field till it is almost dark, they loom up 
between him and any little pleasure he may 
have had for the evening, like a mountain of 
difficulty. It is doubtful if any oue thing 
teuds so much to the general discontent which 
prevails in so many country homes as this sys¬ 
tem of over-work which requires the doing of 
so much after a big day’s work has already 
been “put in." 
An exacting, nbido-hy-my-rule father may 
take it into his head to give his sou a love for 
agricultural pursuits by sending him to an 
agricultural College. He will come back at 
the end of his course and tell vou that he likes 
it all well enough as he saw it there, aud in 
the next breath he will ask you if you happen 
to know where he would be likely to find a situ¬ 
ation as clerk or bookkeeper. You. sir, made 
him hate farming wheu ho was but a boy, and 
all the agricultural colleges in the world- 
excellent aud every way worthy though they 
may be—would fail to make him like it. 
Suppose you had brought him up differ¬ 
ently? Sunpose you had studied his “bent,” 
as every parent is in duty bound to do? You 
might have found that in some special branch 
of husbandry be would have taken right hold. 
Did he show a particular liking for 
horses? If so, you missed it in not 
giving him the care of the horses. Or was 
a fat heifer or steer the perfection of 
beauty in his eyes? Then, sir, you were wrong- 
not, to give him some latitude in that direction. 
Did he delight in fields of wavinggrain? Then 
you should have done your utmost to make 
him feel an interest in every acre of grain 
grown on the place. Was he fond of trying 
little experiments to test, this or that? If so, 
you made yon r widest miss when you failed to 
encourage him there. Was he in the habit of 
offering suggestions when you were at work 
together? You know he was, and you made 
fun of them always and pooh-poohed at him 
for his pains. In short, you threw cold water 
on every little scheme of his which, if not so 
chilled out of existence, might have made a 
farmer of him, and a better farmer, too, than 
you ever were. 
His sister left the farm a good while ago to 
go to town and become a dressmaker. You 
do not know where she is now, though vou 
wish you did. But there are some things vou 
do know if you have a good memory. You 
know she was what you would call a home 
girl. She always liked best to be at home un¬ 
til you drove her away by your selfishness and 
want of sympathy. You know, if you will 
think about it, that you never tried to make 
her young life bright or happy. You know 
there were several things which she particu¬ 
larly wanted to have, things you could well 
enough afford, things which most of her asso¬ 
ciates possessed, but which yon would not get 
for her—not you! She wanted a maeazine a 
croquet set and an organ. She wanted the 
house yard enlarged so she could have a flower¬ 
bed or two, and do you remember the little 
heifer calf she wauted? You gave her that, 
you know, because it was a weakling, and you 
knew she would tend it well. She did tend it, 
and when it stood among the two-year-olds, 
the sleekest ami best-built of them all, you 
sold it for a round sum and pocketed the 
money! 
Had this man been wiser he might so have 
trained and led his children that they would 
have counted it happiness to follow iu his 
footsteps; but driving suited him best. He 
tried it and failed. 
Life is made up of little things. This is 
especially the case with the young. It is the 
little things token oue with another that bring 
to them either content or disaffection. Good 
clothes to wear, pleasant society to enjoy, a 
comfortable home and surroundings, a neatly- 
kept room to which one may feel at liberty to 
invite a friend without the fear of a frown 
from mother or a black look from father_ 
these things go a long way with many young 
people; and just here, iu the matter of dress, 
a wise parent may find a golden opportunity 
for setting a young girl’s face in the right 
direction by teaching her to discriminate lie- 
tweeu a tailor-made man aud one made by the 
Almighty. 
It is a pitiable sight to see a modest, and in 
most respects sensible country girl preferring 
a dude of a fellow from behind somebody’s 
counter to the manly aud every way worthy 
son of her neighbor, whom she really likes, 
but who, iu the matter of dress, cannot “hold 
a candle" to the dude. 
And here let me say that the boys have more 
to eomplniu of in the way of dress than the 
girls. The latter can make over and in many 
wavs so alter the appearance of their drosses 
that they seem to have more changes than the}' 
really have. A 1 k>v has seldom more than 
two suits, one to work in and one for “best,” 
Now if, when he has occasion to go from home 
—say to town-—on a week day, he wears his 
work suit, he is more than likely to display a 
few patches, aud there is no mistake about it. 
a patch on a boy’s pantaloons makes him feel 
meaner than two holes that need patching. 
If, on the other hand, he wears bis liest, be 
will feel like a simpleton. A suit, then, to 
correspond with the business suits worn by 
the young men about town is what his self- 
respect demands. Are these things of small 
account ? Certainly not, if they help to make 
our children satisfied aud contented with then- 
lot in life. 
Farmers should so train up their sons and 
daughters as to make them proud of their 
calling. First, because of its independence, 
its freedom from the petty annoyances that 
lx»et the great class of individuals who live, 
and who, in the order of things must live] 
from hand to mouth. Because of its freedom 
from temptation. Because it is the most im¬ 
portant oue in the world, the one which forms 
the basis of all others. Because it promises a 
surer living, with better health aud greater 
freedom from care than any or all others. 
They should be encouraged to take pride in, to 
feel a sort of ownership in everything about 
the place—the orchard, the shade trees, the 
shrubbery, and as they will naturally feel most 
interested in wbat they have helped to pro¬ 
duce, get them to help in the tree planting 
and let them, once in a while, choose the place 
and the tree to plant. As to the live stock, 
they seem to take to that naturally. I have 
yet to see the boy or girl to whom the coming 
of the lambs, or the calves, or the colts did 
not bring a genuine joy, and it is an act of 
wisdom on the fanner’s part to make his child¬ 
ren an occasional gift of one or another of 
these animals. But let it be a bona fide gift. 
Let it be theirs to sell or to keep. 
An excellent plan to awaken and keep alive 
a boy’s interest iu operations of the fann—and 
without an interest on his part, the farm will 
hold him only till he sees his chance to get 
away from it—is to give to him a piece 
of ground to cultivate just as he likes, and for 
himself. 
Saida farmer of my acquaintance to his 
son:—“Time was when that back lot would 
pay the taxes on the farm, but it won't do it 
this year. It is about run out.” “May I have 
all I can get off of it above the taxes, father V' 
Consent was given, and the lfi-year-old boy 
went to work. He bought manure and hauled 
it on to the land. He got the ground in good 
order and planted it to corn. When the corn 
was gathered he took hogs of a drover to fat¬ 
ten “on shares.’’ He paid the taxes and had 
enough money left to pay them twice over 
again. 
A wide-awake boy will not feel satisfied any¬ 
where unless he feels that he is learning some¬ 
thing. He should be given a good reason for 
every farm operation that comes under his eye. 
Many a young man leaves the farm because 
be has been suffered to grow up without the 
knowledge of the inner workings of the bus¬ 
iness beyond what he can guess at. He is 
conscious of his ignorance aud goes to find 
something easier to master. Whenever it is 
possible children should be given work suited 
to their tastes. One hoy might b’ke nothing 
better than to spread manure from morning 
till night, day after day, while another would 
rebel at once, hut would be quite willing to 
set cions in the orchard or plant out the young 
trees. Of course it would be a mistake to let 
the former do the grafting and make the lat¬ 
ter spread mauure. Such a course persistently 
followed would be almost certain to resnlt in 
both boys having a distaste for farm work. 
We should seek then to make our children 
happy aud contented as well as useful. We 
should toy to make our children wise above 
the wisdom which shows itself only in the cut 
of a coat or the looping of an overskirt. We 
should encourage them by giving praise when 
praise is due. We should give more holidays 
and have fewer days in which extra work 
must be done. We should provide an unex¬ 
pected pleasure now and then, that will tide 
them over many stony places. Thev should 
be allowed liberty above that of an hireling. 
We should strive in all things wherein our 
children are Concerned, to act the part of a 
wise person who has a great interest at stoke. 
We should not be stingy with our eh ildren. If 
we are, and they have not lost resect for us. 
they will lay the blame of our parsimonious¬ 
ness on our wav of liviug.and so be brought to 
despise it. We should be progressive, always 
on the lookout for the very best means in hus¬ 
bandry. Thus our children will find one 
direction at least in which there may be 
ample scope for brains on the farm. 
In talking to children it is not a good plan 
to always say I. If we only could say we oc¬ 
casionally we should find them more drawn 
towards us and our work. 
“Well, Johnny, shall we try the plow to¬ 
day?” says a fanner to his little three-year-old 
son. They go, and Johnny, who trots along 
behind in the furrow, really seems to take as 
deep nu interest in the turning of it square 
aud straight as does his sire, because he feels 
that bo is. somehow, helping to do it. A good 
way of creating an interest in farm affairs 
among the young people has beeu found In 
letting them take turns of a week about in 
“managing.’* This works as well indoors as 
out. The boys will vie with each other, not 
only in getting the greatest possible amount 
done, but iu doing it in good style aud “just 
as father would like.” while the girls will do 
their best to convince you that they can not 
only attend to the milk and make the butter, 
but that they can make beds aud keep the 
house iu order as well. 
The tendency of the age is toward a higher 
education. Among native-born Americans a 
tolerable degree of learning is now the ride, 
and ignorance the exception. The time when 
a farmer might hope to keep his son on the 
farm by keeping him in ignorance has gone 
by. At the present day a young man f re ling 
his lack in this respect would be likely to 
attribute it to the mode of life he had been 
nurtured iu, and lose no} time in getting away 
from it. And since we must all mingle more 
or less with the people among whom our lot is 
cast, and it is not in human nature for a man 
or woman of education or culture to live con¬ 
tentedly in a community of boors, it is every 
man’s duty not only to give his children the 
best advantages in the way of schooling with¬ 
in his power, but to encourage his neighbors 
to do the same. 
The social clement in our nature must also 
be provided for. If young people find no 
amusement or entertainment aside from what 
they find in the nearest town, it follows that 
they will soon come to prefer the town to the 
country as a place of liviug. The Grange is a 
good place for the farmer not to send but to 
take his sons and daughters to, for. aside from 
its social advantages, their minds become 
familiarized, through the discussions held 
there, with various farm topics, and are thus 
led into sympathy and harmony with them. 
Then, neighborhood entertainments of a 
social and literary character should be encour¬ 
aged. Reading clubs, singing classes and de¬ 
bating societies, if properly conducted, are 
excellent both socially and educationally. 
Games may be made a pleasant past-time for 
an evening at home, but they should be in¬ 
dulged in only occasionally, as at best they 
afford but idle amusement. The hours be¬ 
tween supper and bed-time had much better 
be spent in reading, with now and then music 
for enlivenment, than in playing checkers or 
back-gammon. 
Is your daughter of a romantic turn of mind? 
Thpn look well to her training; teach her to 
make herself useful at home first, and after that, 
in whatever good work the neighborhood may 
he engaged in. See that she has healthy 
reading, not such as is circulated to feed the 
sickly sentimentality that is spoiling her by 
unfitting her for all domestic duties. Does she 
long for society, as she imagines it to exist 
a wav beyond the stretch of field and farm? If 
so, happy are you if out of your broader 
knowledge you are able to show her what bit¬ 
ter straggles for place, wbat strivings after 
appearances, what coverings up and shieldings 
of weakness and sin, what emptiness, what 
hate, what rice lurk in and poison the atmos¬ 
phere of the society she covets. 
Does your son incline to be “poetical,” as 
you are pleased to call it. rather that practi¬ 
cal. Then be Arise for yourself and him before 
it is too late. It is one thing to admire the 
works of Nature—the green fields, the vine-clad 
slope, the grazing kine—to be willing to labor, 
to assist in producing these scenes of beauty is 
something very different, yet the one may be 
brou ght into harmony wtrh the other. You do 
not care for this beauty yourself perhaps; but 
unless you had rather your son would view- it 
from the smoke-encircled higbts of yonder 
city than from your own hill toDs. you will 
cease to scold if the work stands srill for a 
minute or two now and then while he watches 
a cloud shadow creep over the green wheat, or 
gazes at the summer sunset. Is your son am¬ 
bitions. rejoice at it, providing his ambition 
is of a kind calculated to result in his best 
good: if not seek to make it so. 
The desire to get on in the w -rid. to sur¬ 
round one’self with the creature comforts nec¬ 
essary to happiness, to possess even of the lux¬ 
uries of life should be strong in the breast of 
every tiller of the soiL He has health and 
strength. The free, pure air of heaven is his to 
breathe. Beautiful creations fresh from the 
hand of God are spread out before him. But 
these things should not satisfy him. He should 
seek to tnnke his home a bower of love and 
beauty—flowers, birds and sunshine around it, 
within the peace and content which comes of 
a consciousness of making the highest use of 
the blessings God has given us. 
There’s another scheme to get money out 
of imaginary he ire to a great property in this 
city. At present, it is being “worked” chiefly 
in the TV est, and the stake is an estate here 
valued all the way from 8SOO,000,000 to $400- 
000.000. The projerty is alleged to be chiefly 
around Mercer Street, a poor street just west 
of Broadway. There it covers about 100 
acres, and there’s some more in Jersey. It 
was owned by Moses Mercer, a Scotchman, in 
1700. and was leased for 90 years. The lease 
having expired some years ago. the “heirs” of 
old Mercer are invited to contribute funds to 
recover the property before the courts. It is 
said that several Western men of sense aud 
standing have joined in the enterprise, but as 
the T nnderbilts aud Asters own most of the 
N. Y. property now, claimants will have a 
hard job to wrest it from them. 
lo Several Inquirers.—W e do not rec¬ 
ommend the nostrums of the Civiale Remedial 
