THE RURAlU NEW-YORKER. 
SEPT A 
for i\)t jDoutig. 
ALWAYS like to see a boy 
who wants to learn a trade. 
A trade is a fine thing. If 
I could be a boy over again, 
and know what I do now 
about things, you may be 
sure that I would be a 
blacksmith or a carpenter. 
A mau with a good trade at 
his fingers’ ends is in a 
pretty independent posi¬ 
tion. Even if he comes to 
farming at last, and there 
are few better thiugs that 
he can do, his trade will be 
a wonderful help to him. 
What is a trade ? Like ever)’ other tiling that 
makes one man smarter than another, it is 
knowledge. In learning a trade you learn how 
to use certain tools to the best advantage, and 
how to keep those tools in good condition. 
You learn how to handle work, how to (tut. the 
parts of a machine or any other article to¬ 
gether. You learn to think and plan, and the 
practice truins the hnud, mind and eye, so 
that work is done quicker aud better than it 
was before. You never can do a thing well 
till you know how to do it. You never can 
know how until you think out a piece of 
work, do it in different ways, and study it. 
Some boys e imiot get a chauee to learn a 
trade as they would like. Let them make a 
trade of their own. Let them stick to their 
work, no matter how simple and monotonous 
it may be, until they master it and can do it 
a little better thau any other boy can. This 
will pay them well. If they do not have a 
regular trade, they will have the next thing 
to it, and they will be always sure of a place. 
There are two things about work that you 
must al ways remember. One is that only a 
good workman can get good wages; aud the 
other is, that the only way to become a good 
workman is to study your work and be care¬ 
ful over it. _ 
I fail to see why a girl should not learn a 
trade just as well as a boy. Some girls don’t 
want to work. They prefer to have somebody 
support them. Such girls had better keep a way 
from trades. There are lots of independent 
girls however who want to support themselves. 
Many of them want to help their parents. 
What can such girls do? There used to be a 
time when it was considered something dread¬ 
ful for a girl or a woman to try and do any¬ 
thing outside of what men were pleased to call 
‘‘woman’s work.” That time has gone by now, 
and I am glad of it. I never thought much of 
the colleges for women. I never saw a grad¬ 
uate of one these literary colleges that could 
support herself at any other business than 
teaching school, and that is not a very good 
business to follow for good. There may be 
plenty of these graduates who can do wonder¬ 
ful things but 1 have never seen them. There 
are women doctors who are doing a great 
deal of good and 1 wish there could be more 
of them, but it isn’t ©very person who can 
make a good doctor; one has to be fitted for it 
naturally. I like to see a girl learn the dress¬ 
maker's trade, With that trade well learned, 
she is always sure of work. Let her take a 
regular course at some first-class dress-maker’s 
place aud she will be able to earn more money 
than three-fourths of the men in this country. 
There are plenty of trades that girls eau learn 
if they only have ambition. 1 think every 
girl ought to know how to keep house aud 
to cook. Plenty of girls make money at 
raising chickens and eggs or at making fancy 
butter. A woman can make better butter 
thau a mau can. any day. It is nearer a 
woman’s work. The same is true of bee-keep¬ 
ing. Any one of these works can be made 
into a trade if the girls will be patient and 
ambitious. It will take time aud work to 
make much out of them but there ought to 
be a great satisfaction to a girl in knowing 
she eau be independent aud helpful. I don’t 
think much of these toy girls who ean do a 
little o e a great many things and yet can do 
nothing well. 
I saw a eat the other day that was made 
very useful. lie stood out in front of a book 
store, where old books aud pamphlets were 
sold. He had a wide piece of cardboard 
fastened around his neck, on which was printed 
in large letters : 
“Take a Catalogue.” 
It was a new idea, and everybody stopped to 
look at it. Many people went in aud looked 
at the books, who would not otherwise have 
done so. So that cat was a very profitable 
partner in the business. There was no danger 
of his running away. When he came to stir I 
saw that one of his feet hail been cut oir by 
some accident. So he was a cripple, and could 
pot run, Aud yet, with pnly three feet, he 
did far more business than a great many cats 
do with four feet. The boy in the store told 
me that he bought milk and meat for the cat 
every day. When a cat is doing such good 
work in the book business he deserves to have 
his nights to himself, and should not be 
obliged to hunt rats in his spare time. 
THE STORY OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL. 
A COLLEGE BOV’S DIARY. 
( Continued .) 
Monday morning found me at the school- 
house, as soon after breakfast ns I could get 
there. I was bound to have an early survey 
of the field. I built a fire in the great stove, 
and then sat in the teacher’s chair to look 
about me. The floor was battered aud cracked, 
particularly about the stove. The walls were 
discolored, aud in the corners and along the 
walls a troop of spiders had contributed an 
example of diligence for the pupils. The 
seats were battered aud old, many of them 
were broken, and most of them had been 
carved and cut by restless jack-knives. I 
afterwards found that this knife study was 
the favorite oue in Bear Creek. My own 
chair was placed on a little platform near the 
door. Several of the boards of this platform 
creaked most suspiciously as I walked over 
them. A low desk stood unsteadily on three 
legs, with the other broken so that it pushed 
under without touching the floor. 
A blackboard at one end of the room bore 
the last faint ti-ace of a mathematical effort 
in the shape of a collection of straggling 
figures. Under this was written iu great, un¬ 
even letters, now nearly obliterated, this 
legend 
“Teacher is a fool.” 
I found a little consolation in the fact that 
this statement doubtless referred to the pre¬ 
vious teacher rather than to the present one. 
It was a farewell rather than a welcoming 
statement. The more I investigated Bear 
Creek, however, the morel began to think the 
title might be appropriate iu my own case. 
Long before the time for opening school the 
scholars began to arrive. The first to put in 
nu appearance was a little freckle-faced girl. 
She carried two small books in oue hand while 
the other grasped a large tin pail almost as 
large as herself. 1 soon found that this latter 
receptacle contained her dinner, for after much 
fumbling she pulled open the cover and pro¬ 
ceeded to eat a lunch. Bhe nearly destroyed 
her pocket in bringing to the light a large, red 
apple which she brought at last aud bashfully 
handed me, 
“You better come to our house jes’ soon’s 
you can, teacher. ” 
The corner of her aprou which she persisted 
in pushing into her mouth rendered this invi¬ 
tation a little muffled. 
“Why so?” 
“Cause we’ve jest killed our hogs an’ they’s 
lots o’ fresh meat, an' the minister’s goin’ to 
stop to our house uext Sunday,” 
The little girl evidently had not given me 
the apple purely out of charity. There was 
method in the gift. She carried her books to 
a seat conveniently near the stove, and care¬ 
fully deposited them on the top. 
“Say, teacher, I eau have my old seat can’t 
I? The ones that gets here first always has 
first choice.” 
This seemed reasonable enough, so I told her 
she might occupy the seat. 
“What studies do you like best?” I asked, 
when she had celebrated her victory by a short 
dance in front of the stove. 
“ ’Rithmetie, spellin’ an’ joggerfy, best.” 
“Don’t you like grammar, too?” 
“We don’t have no grammar here. Pa says 
they ain’t no call for ter study it, an’ I’m glad 
on it.” 
Her further explanation was interrupted by 
the arrival of a large company of scholars. 
The boys came tramping in at one door while 
the girls entered at the other. There were 
very few books visible, but the display of din¬ 
ner pails was something striking. Bear Creek 
appeared to believe in specialties. There was 
to be no attempt to supply nourishment to 
both mmd and body at one time. The laxly 
wus to be well sustained and the mind loft to 
secure such material as it could conveniently 
pick up. 
The scholars all made a grand rush for the 
most desirable seats and placed their books on 
the place's they picked out. This seemed to be a 
regular law of the school. Then they came 
back and gathered about the stove to examine 
me. I examined them in return. 
The boys were dressed in rough jackets and 
blue or brown overalls tucked in the tops of 
their boots. They ull kept their hats on and 
most of them stood with their hands in their 
pockets, grinding their heels Into the floor. 
They were stout well-built fellows with heavy 
expressionless faces and little eyes. 
The girls wore very brave in ribbons and 
bright calico dresses. They simpered aud 
whispered among themselves, whenever l 
looked iu their direction. The Bear Creek 
idea of a flirtation seemed somewhat crude 
but was none the less hearty. 
I went about to shake hnnds with all the 
scholors. Most of them regarded this move¬ 
ment iu wonder. They simply held out a 
hand and allowed me to shake it. There was 
no effort on their part, to return the hand 
clasp. After a moment of giggling the girls 
ran out at the door. I heard them shouting 
with laughter on the outside. 
LETTERS FROM THE COUSINS. 
Dear Uncle Mark: I am a little girl 
seven years old, and would like to join the 
Cousins. My papa has taken the Rural ever 
since I can remember and 1 like to hear the 
letters from the Cousins. Mamma gave me 
some of the Garden Treasures and 1 planted 
them in a little garden of my own and now 1 
have some lovely blossoms; Miguonett, Candy¬ 
tuft, Pansies and Phlox aud many others and 
one great tall sunflower a great deal taller 
thau I am. I have two little Kittens one 
white that I call snowball and one maltese I 
call Molly. I went to school last Spring and 
read in the second reader, but can’t, write 
quite well enough to write to you so Mamma is 
writing for me. We live on a farm two miles 
from the city. Your little friend, 
Joliet, Ill. mable k. DAVISON. 
[ I can read all kinds of writing so you must 
write the next letter yourself. Our cat is 
uamed Molly too. I wonder if that sunflower 
is as tall as I am?— u. m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: —Perhaps you remem¬ 
ber my letter, written to you last August, in 
which I told you of my “garden in the sky,” 
which was a candle-box filled with earth, in 
which the peas and beans were growing, which 
you kindly sent Mamma. It, stood on our bal¬ 
cony, up on the sixth story of the apartment 
house in which we lived, and the beans grow 
splendidly, too. I did not think then that this 
year I should be in a real garden and Bee 
beans growing in true ground, up still nearer 
the sky, 2,000 feet above the sea. It was just 
the nicest place you could wish to see, way up 
in the Catskill Mountains, sometimes above 
the clouds. We were on Mr. Bailey’s farm, 
aud there wore lots of horses, cows, pigs, 
chickens, etc.; and you could do just what 
you liked. No signs there, saying “Keep off 
the grass !” Only a city boy knows how to 
enjoy such freedom. 1 could drive one of the 
horses all alone by myself, and he got so tame 
he knew me. His name is Prince, aud he is 20 
years old. He cannot go very fast, is what 
they call short-winded; but 1 didn’t mind 
that. I liked to ride rather slowly on those 
rough, hilly roads. 
It was so hard to come back to this dirty 
city and leave all the lovely fun. Iu the 
country, you know, there is always something 
for a lioy to do. Harold and two other boys 
had a tent, and they camped out regular for 
three days, cooked their dinners and slept 
there. One night it rained hard, and I thought, 
it was so dark, that the bears would come 
sure. They did not, and the boys slept souudly 
all night, not a bit scared or hurt,. I slept 
with 4 ‘Mino” that night and was not homesick. 
Wo want to go to Jewett aguio iu March, 
for Mr. Bailey has invited us. Then they are 
going to make maple sugar from the maple 
trees, and it seems so funny how they can do 
it. When I am a man I am going to be a 
farmer. There is nothing like it. 
Mr. Bailey takes the Rural; it. seemed like 
an old friend to find it there. Everybody 
reads and enjoys it. Iam, your little friend, 
New York. Walter f. poole. 
[I am glad you bad n chance to see what 
farm life is like. 1 hope you will make a 
farmer. When you have your own farm I 
will conic and see you. Old Prince must be a 
good horse.— 0. m.J 
Dear Uncle Mark: I wrote to you once 
before aud my letter went iu the waste basket 
but I was not discouraged. It is a very warm 
day. It is so warm 1 would just like to sit 
still and hare some one fan me all day. We 
had two little pel chickens die; one was my 
sister’s and the other was mine. I hud the 
sick headache but I am better to day. Mu is 
ironing my white dress. I hod an aunt come 
from York State, and she gave me a nice 
dress because I had two eye teeth pulled. My 
Cousin Etta and I went horse-back riding, we 
both were on the same horse and we made her 
cantor and wo both fell off aud I skinned my 
knee badly and my Cousiu sprained her auklo 
so we both go around limping. The sweet 
peas you seut. me have blossomed. We have 
nine cows, seven calves, 70 young chickens, 
and two little kittens. One is mine, it’s name 
is Rosabel. 
From your uieee, zella shimmins. 
Delavan, Wisconsin. 
[If you hod people to fau you how could 
they stand the heat? That dress was well 
earned. I don’t think I should care to ride 
in that way,—u. m,] 
Dyspepsia 
Does not get well of Itself; It requires careful, 
persistent attention ami a remedy that will assist 
nature to throw ofT the causes and tone up the 
digestive organs till they perform their duties 
willingly. Among t he agonies experienced by the 
dyspeptic, are distress before or after eating, loss 
of appetite, irregularities of the bowels, wind or 
gas and pain in tho stomach, heart-burn, sour 
stomach,etc.., causing mental depression, nervous 
irritability and sleeplessness. If yon are dis- 
conragod ho of good cheer and try Hood’s Sar¬ 
saparilla. It has cured hundreds, it will cure you. 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla 
Sold by all druggists. $1; six for $5. Made 
only by C. 1. IlOOD & GO., Lowell, Mass. 
IOO Doses One Dollar 
“AN Excellent JUDGE” 
r i GENUINE 
YANKEE SOAP, 
of 
MANCHESTER CONN., 
williams A’nmmms 
CHEMISTS AND APUTHICARirS, 
late (Jordon W. Rum- 
Bhmn of New York, ntier 
hU return Inim >m ex. 
! tour Ku- 
«»id: u 1 have 
Ixniulit and Irbiil the 
if llnral. Shinlni* Soap* 
t rauitc In Kngtand and on 
| tin* ( tmllin'iil, lint for 
q motif lot limiflwu lonurbi* 
to Im* often* I rould ujrulu 
enjoy I Jin Luxury of Shav¬ 
ing with the CiliNLINK 
YANKEE &OAl\ 
All DrflrshH keep !*• 
AfO-d Trial 
ftniople* l»y Hull* for 12c* 
The J. B.Williams Co., 
(Formerly Willimua dt JJro&*, MuuobcaUr, IM0.) Gbu or bury, Ct* 
COLTfPRIFLE 
Just Half the 
Factory Price I 
Beet KepeatiuiC Rifle in 
1-1. IM 
lilt 'Vori 
MTK'3 
44-Caliber. 
CHAMPION 
$ 12.50 
Gum.Alir Iliili-boB, hcfimilrr ltcvnlvir., Heim'. Patent Polio* 
Gonilt, /.<■■ Solid u oenn iv.r llln.irsird Bi-Png'- t'sraloiros. 
401101 P- LOVKht’S SONS, Itu.lou, *»»». K.ublUlivil 1840. 
A ' I pi ICC of lheS< aside & Agents’ Sample Curds for 
AJb “ *5 a 2 cent slump. ft. A. GlVIM, Cadiz. Ohio. 
ON ONI) HI A ft. ft. SALT. 
sole M.vsi’r.urrrnKns, 
American Dairy Salt Go. 
• J (Limited.) 
Chemically purified and Warnix-STED pure an any In 
the marke t. Used by a great majority of the Dairy¬ 
men of the country. Unexcelled for Butler. Cheese, 
the Table, aud all Culinary purposes. Took Medal at 
Centennial "for purity ana high degree of excellence.” 
Dalrv goods milted with It top a first premiums at New 
OrTean’s World's Fair. N. Y. International Fulr; Mil- 
waukee Exposition, and always wttis when there Is 
fair competition. It Is American, and cheaper and 
butter than any foreign salt. Try It. Address 
.1. W BARKER. Secretary, 
Syracuse* N. v. 
Host Hatcher 
on earth. 
Hatches Ducks,Turkeys. 
Geese and Chickens. 
Received First Premium 
where exhibited. 
Send for Circular. 
ANDREWS’ 
Ifatrlicr Co. 
Elinirn, N. Y. 
Mention Uruat, N. Y. 
GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878. 
BAKER'S 
_ Warranted absolutely pure 
Cocoa, from which the excess of 
Oil baa been removed. It has t l ee 
times the strength o( Cocoa mixed 
with Starch, Arrowroot or8ugar, 
and ts therefore lar more economi¬ 
cal, costing less than One cent a 
cup. It Is delicious, nourishing, 
strengthening, easily digested, and 
udmiruhly adapted for Invalids as 
well na for persons In health. 
Sold by Grocers ev erywhere. 
W. BAKER & C0„ Dorchester, Mass. 
$ IOOO REWARD THE VICTOR 
Vur my juticiiluc liuliiti*; auu 
sioo 
uflcn 
ONE 
any Juiu-’laue tiuiliujc 
riratling fll for market ft* uiuoh 
Clover In ONK UA 
Jkv tho 
VICTOR 
DOUBLE 
HULLER. 
Illo»tr*lr<1 circu 
Ur tnaUcO free. 
DAY, 
linger* town, Hd, 
THfc IMPROVED 
“Right Speedy” 
(STYI.K NO. 2.) 
CORN SHELLER 
will Hlirll the largest and 
smallest eorn peiTeeliy; shells 
PI to I I bushflK per lpun - . It U 
I he l».al hsntl Mtrll.r m.d,’ nml I 
,»Mrrjnil ll fur It ,fitn. l’rif r nr 
hundsumcly nickel plated, tc. 
Agents Wanted. 
agent In vour vicinity, 
..-ml She Hit, express 
n receipt of price. Send 
circular- 
CURTIS CODDARD, 
nee, Ohio._ 
BLAIR’S skills 
A GRAND SUCCESS. 10,1100 FOR I88R. 
With this instrument 
.me niun cun do the 
work of two with grunt,- 
•reuss nml muoh more 
expeditiously. Not only for tying Corn 
Fishier but for most nil hke bulky 
- — material tn shook or bundle, t For Bale by 
hardware dealers. Send stamps—jjOc.—by nisu.tor 
one, without rope. E> BLAIR, Uucyrus, Ohio, 
