1872 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
SOS, 
THIS lElOUiEEIOILIDo 
(For other Household Items , see 11 Basket" pages.) 
Barefoot Boys, 
And girls, too ! There is something to be said 
on both sides. Some people have an unreasonable 
prejudice against bare feet, except in poems, pic¬ 
tures, and statuary. 
Is anything in nature much more beautiful than 
a baby’s soft pinky foot ? Of course hot. And 
here is Miss Two-year-old sweetly pleading, “ May 
I go bare-feeted ’ittle ’bile ? ” when you give her a 
bath and clean clothes in the afternoon. 
Say “yes” to the little darling. Her “while” 
will be little enough, for the soft feet are as tender 
as a maiden’s cheek, and she will be glad enough 
of shoes and stockings very soon. How daintily 
she steps, and the working of her curly toes shows 
how they rejoice in their freedom ! When she goes 
out of doors she chooses soft grass or soft mud to 
walk upon. The heroine of Jean Iugelow’s story 
is none too extravagant in speaking of the delight¬ 
ful sensation little feet have wdieu set free upon 
soft grass, but who shall describe the pleasure of 
paddling in the mud on a warm summer day ? 
The barefoot school-boy knows all about it. His 
is a tough foot. He probably makes some invol¬ 
untary choice of stepping-places as he runs like a 
free wild animal over weedy roadsides, pavements, 
chip-yards, stubble-fields, but it is a wonder that 
he gets so few cuts and stone-bruises. 
The country school-ma’am prefers to have her 
pupils come with bare feet—uuless she has a good 
deal of conventional pride in their appiearance. 
The restless lads and lassies make noise enough 
with their buzzing lips and their shuffling of books 
and slates, but on rainy days, when many of the 
children come in their heavy leather shoes and 
boots, the added noise of their scraping and 
stamping makes the day’s work almost doubly 
wearisome. 
I like to see the bare feet of young Americans, 
even when they are scratched and muddy. The 
outlines are as good in flesh as in marble. I be¬ 
lieve in letting children go barefoot in the country 
during the warm -weather. But this is often car¬ 
ried too far. I believe the vital power of children 
is often weakened by too much exposure of the 
feet to cold. The barefoot country children are 
likely to be healthy because they live out of doors 
almost constantly, except when confined in school¬ 
rooms, and in summer these school-rooms have 
every window opened for fresh breezes. 
But if children have their owu way they get off 
their shoes and stockings too early in the spring, 
and thus often change directly from thick shoes 
and woolen stockings to bare feet. In chilly morn¬ 
ings and evenings the little unclad feet go through 
the heavy dews, and then they have to be washed, 
often in cold well or spring water, before they are 
fit to rest between white sheets. 
Cold foot-baths are good in their place, but some 
children get far too many. They wade in the 
streams and ponds too often and too long at a time. 
It undermines their constitutional vigor, and makes 
them an easy prey to disease. Upon the tempera¬ 
ture of the feet the general health in very large 
measure depends. The blood in different parts of 
the body is affected by the condition of the feet. 
If they are not sufficiently protected from cold, it 
is unduly cooled in its passage through the capil¬ 
laries of the feet. If they are overheated, the 
whole system will be refreshed by reducing the 
heat of the feet to a comfortable temperature. 
Ask any wise physician of your acquaintance (if 
your owu experience or observation has not taught 
you) whether bathing in lakes and rivers (or “go¬ 
ing in swimming,” as country boys say) and wading 
in shallow streams are not usually practiced too i 
much by boys wffio like such things—whether it 
does not make them often grow thin and languid 
during the summer months. 
Then let the children have the blessed freedom 
and delight of bare feet on warm days, but guard 
them from injuries that may result from improper 
exposure of the feet. Rell. 
——- » I - 1 g> - f-** - 
Home Topics. 
BY FAITH ROCHESTER. 
At ScnooL too Young.— I know a mother 
whose three youngest children are aged respee- 
■ tively four years, two years, and seven or eight 
months. The mother is loving and intelligent, and 
has health as good as that of the average American 
woman. No human being, not even a mother, is 
infinite in capacity to do and endure. The oldest 
child needs as constant looking after as either of 
the others, especially because he is so much tempted 
to tyrannize over the second child. And so 
“ To school the little exile goes, 
Torn from his mother’s arms.” 
I don’t know as this mother can do any better— 
but isn’t it a pity ? She says she would much p>re- 
fer a kindergarten, but there is none within reach, 
and so the ordinary district school is resorted to. 
Perhaps the school-ma’am will have mercy on the 
little fellow, and let him play out of doors most of 
the time during school hours. I used to do so 
with the babies sent to me when I was a district 
school-teacher, and I am glad I did. 
I can understand what a relief to hard-working 
mothers it must be to get their mischievous, inqui¬ 
sitive children off to school for six hours every 
day, provided they can feel that such a course is 
best for. the children. And it is sometimes the 
case that the country school-teacher has so few 
pupils that she can afford to act the part of nurse 
to four-year-old children. A school not far from 
here has only eight or ten pupils in the summer¬ 
time; and I remember that my first school would 
not have averaged a larger attendance, except for 
the little class of A-B-C scholars. 
The danger is that the teacher will feel called 
upon to put the little ones ahead in reading as fast 
as possible. If she has read Miss Peabody’s and 
Mrs. Mann’s and Miss Youmans’s essays and letters 
about primary education, and has duly considered 
that remark of a British Commoner, “It is better 
(or more important) that a child should like his 
lesson than that he should learn it,” she may be 
able to do the fair thing by her infant pupils. Play 
is the proper business of a child. Its five senses 
should be awake and active, and its education 
should come through them chiefly until it is seven 
or eight years old. 
I anticipate great pleasure in seeing my little son 
enjoy his reading when he gets to that, but his 
father and I congratulate ourselves very often on 
having delayed that event so long. So much better 
things are being done for him than would be likely 
to be done if he could immerse himself in a story 
at any leisure moment. There is time enough for 
the book study in the course of a lifetime, but the 
golden years when the observing faculties are devel¬ 
oping and taking on habits can never come, again 
after early childhood is once passed. This child 
learned all his letters long ago, from newspaper 
headings and advertisements chiefly, and we were 
tempted to lead him right along in a path that 
seemed so easy for him. I should think he might 
“ read in readings,” after a very little practice, any 
time when we set about it, for he knows the letters 
by their sounds, and spells any plain word you pro¬ 
nounce to him. He seems to have an idea that 
what papa and mamma can not tell him about the 
things which arouse his curiosity, books can ; and 
he stands by while I consult a book to find an an¬ 
swer to his question with a feeling, apparently, 
that this universe is full of wonderful things, in 
which a great many folks besides himself and 
mamma are interested, and these folks—Gray,You- 
maus, Agassiz, and the rest of them—will help a 
little fellow if they can. It is a sight that I enjoy. 
He “likes his lesson,” and his liking will lead him 
on farther and deeper in the pursuit of knowledge. 
Almost any child can be made to hate school and 
to loathe study by tasks inappropriate to its stage of 
mental growth. This would be a great calamity. 
It would also be a calamity if a child should love 
reading and spelling too well, too mechanically, 
enjoying the parrot-like exercises that constitute 
the routine of many schools, preferring to commit 
to memory some description of a bird or flower or 
mechanical operation, rather than to use its own 
observation and learn all the facts at first-hand. 
Let me quote a paragraph from that excellent essay 
on primary education in Miss Youmans’s First 
Book of Botany: 
“ The glaring deficiency of our popular systems 
of instruction is, that words are not subordinated 
to their real purposes, but are permitted to usurp 
that supreme attention which should be given to 
the formation of ideas by the study of things. It 
is at this point that true mental growth is checked, 
and the minds of children are switched off from 
the main line of natural development into a course 
of artificial acquisition, in which the semblance of 
knowledge takes the place of the reality of knowl¬ 
edge. We have seen that the growth of mind re¬ 
sults from the exercise of its powers upon the 
direct objects of experience, and consists in its 
recognition of distinctions among the properties 
and relations of things, and in the classing and or¬ 
ganization of ideas thus acquired. These opera¬ 
tions can be facilitated by the use of words and 
books, but only when the ideas themselves are first 
clearly conceived as the accurate representations 
of things. But, the ordinary word-studies of our 
schools, which are truly designed to assist these 
operations, are actually made to exclude them. The 
child glides into the habit of accepting words for 
ideas, and thus evades those mental actions which 
are only to be performed upon the ideas 'them¬ 
selves.” 
A child is old enough to go into a kindergarten 
at three years of age, because the training it gets 
there (I mean the genuine Froebel kindergarten) is 
in the line of its natural development. It has play, 
society, and discipline all at the same time. 
An acquaintance says he means to send his little 
son to Germany as 60 on as he is ten years old to 
some good kindergarten there. Ho thinks the child 
could not leave his piarcnts earlier, but he must 
have the kindergarten training. But you see it 
can not be the real kindergarten training at that 
age. For Froebcl’s “plays” are adapted to the 
mental necessities of children several years younger. 
It is good training for a child of any age, but the 
mind of a child of ten may be already so demoral¬ 
ized by wrong education, that it can get but a small 
part of the good intended. 
Jam and Jelly.— The fruit that comes from 
the vines or canes latest in the season makes the 
poorest jelly. If currants hang long upon the 
bushes, they lose most of their jelly-making prop¬ 
erty. They need to be used as soon as possible 
after gathering. One who desires clear, fine-flavored 
jelly will not squeeze the jelly-bag if it be of loose 
material. Fine flannel is best for this purpose, and 
when this is used some pressure is allowable; but 
we wish to strain the juice not only free from 
stems, skins, and seeds, but free from all fine 
particles. 
Sister M., who makes excellent raspberry-jam, 
and a good deal of it every year, gives me the fol¬ 
lowing recipe as the one she prefers : “ One pound 
of sugar to each pound of berries, and nearly a pint 
of currant juice. Put the sugar and berries toge¬ 
ther in a pan over the fire, and with potato-masher 
or wooden spoon keep mashing and stirring them 
constantly to prevent burning. When they are 
well mashed, add the currant-juice, and boil briskly, 
still stirring it carefully. Just before it actually 
boils skim it well. Let it boil about three quarters 
of an hour to bring it to the right consistency. It 
is best to put it up in cups, bowls, or fruit-jars, as 
it does not keep so well after being disturbed. 
Cover the cups with firm paper varnished with 
white of egg, and pressed closely around over 
the edges of the cups. Jam should be kept in q 
cool dry place.” Sister adds, in her letter to me ■ 
“This is splendid as dessert with Graham mush 
and sweet cream.” 
A Tough Old Turkey.— In the same letter from 
