Part 3

When you return home, if I see that you have improved your time, and appreciate the advantages of attending Mr. C.'s school, I will do all I can to make the vacation pass pleasantly. Besides a certain amount of reading and sewing, you are to enjoy yourself, riding, walking, and visiting as you fancy, for I mean to have the time a season of recreation.

How do you like taking dancing lessons, and are you holding yourself more erect than formerly? As to your request about music lessons, I think you had better give up that plan for the present, for you have as much as you ought to do, and in a few years, you will have more time to practise thoroughly. When you leave school, you shall have the best instruction on the piano and in singing.

Good night, my dear child. With love and remembrances from every member of the family, I remain,

YOUR AFFECTIONATE MOTHER.

A CONVERSATION ON FAIRS.

_Georgia._ "Well, Sarah, I've come to invite you to attend our Fair this afternoon. Susy and I have been busy getting every thing ready, and we want you to come very much. The price of admission is six pins."

_Sarah._ "Well, that isn't much I'm sure, and I will ask my mother. I am afraid she will not let me go, for I have not finished my work, and I know she disapproves of Fairs."

_Georgia._ "Oh, this is only a make believe Fair, and so it can't do any harm. Besides, all we can earn we are going to give to the ladies, for the improvement of the Burying-Ground, and that is a good object."

The mother just entering, Sarah asks her permission to attend the proposed Fair.

_Mother._ "Where is to be, my dear?"

_Georgia._ "At the hotel; and when it is over, we are to have a dance in the Hall."

_Sarah._ "Oh, mother, say, can I go?"

_Mother._ "I am afraid I must deny your request, for I dislike to have you engage in such excitements at your age, and more than all, I do not wish to have you at such public places so late in the evening, as will be the case. Wait till you are eighteen, and then there will be plenty of time for such gayeties, if you fancy them; but now, I want you to be contented with a child's pleasures."

_Sarah._ "Oh, mother, I want to go so much; for Ellen, and Fanny, and Lizzie, and Kitty are all going, and _their_ mothers are willing."

_Mother._ "They are the best judges of their own actions, but I do not feel willing to have you there, and if you bear the disappointment patiently, you may invite your young friends to tea next Saturday afternoon."

_Sarah._ "Oh, thank you, mother; and I can give the twenty-five cents I get for making this shirt, to the 'Ladies' Society' for improving the Burying-Ground."

_Mother._ "Well, you may, my dear. Good-by, Georgia."

A TRUE SKETCH FOR THE TWO SISTERS.

On a beautiful farm in Worcester County, where nature seems to have lavished all her charms, and where man is a vigorous rival in his efforts to adorn the land, there sparkles a beautiful pond. On the borders of that pond there is a pretty white house, in which the following little occurrence took place.

Late in the evening a poor woman arrived, bearing in her arms a sick baby, and leading by the hand a little tired girl. The woman was kindly cared for, and a place of rest provided for the night, while food was given to herself and children.

Upon asking her destination, she said she had just arrived from Ireland in search of her sister, who was the mother of the little children. The letter containing the directions had been lost, so there was no clue to the parents, and she was left sad and lonely.

The little baby grew worse during the night, and in the morning, before any physician could arrive, breathed its last in the arms of its nurse. The poor woman seemed distracted with her grief, and constantly mourned, "Oh! would that its mother could see her own handsome boy!" The little girl watched everything that was going on with a quiet smile, and thinking her little brother was asleep, kept saying, "Why don't he wake? Poor brother, he is very sick."

Seeing her aunt weep as the beautiful child was about to be laid in its last resting-place, she said, "Don't cry, he'll soon be well again; I'll give him some of my cake, and then I know he'll be better."

'Twas a touching scene to see such heart-rending grief in the woman, and the happy unconsciousness of the little girl. The poor creature could not be comforted, as she thought of her sister's loss and her own responsibility; but in her moments of calmness she was engaged in earnest prayer.

As a last act of devotion, she placed a little cross, made of two pine sticks, upon the breast of the infant, and then, as if feeling some consolation from this act of her faith, she quietly resigned the body for burial.

EMMA AND LINA.

SCRAPS FROM A JOURNAL PICKED UP IN A GALE OF WIND.

Monday. Began the duties of the day by reciting the texts of the day before, the commandments, and then reading in the Testament. We were all very busy, and tried to have a good beginning for the week, so our lessons were well said, and no one was kept in. We sewed all the afternoon, and listened to the reading of "Kings and Queens," by Abbot, and we like it very much.

Tuesday. The day was bright and beautiful, and after our lessons were over, we all went to a printing office to see the process of setting types, and printing newspapers, and we had a present of some types for ourselves. In the afternoon, we had a drawing lesson, and some of us have begun landscapes.

After school we all visited the jail, to see some little children there, and we wondered what they had done to be put in such a place. We did not want to see the convicts, but we took a peep into the little stone cells, and heard some one singing.

Wednesday. We sang a whole hour, as some visitors come into the school, and then recited our lessons as usual. In the afternoon, several old scholars and the Sunday School class, were invited to hear a new story, called "A Trap to catch a Sunbeam," and we enjoyed it very much. Before they left we played games on the green, and then sat down to crack nuts and talk. In the evening all the family went to a lecture, but I staid at home to study.

Thursday. It stormed hard, so we said all our lessons early to have a little longer recess. We danced cotillons and learned how to waltz, as one of the girls was so kind as to show us, and we think she is a grand teacher. We brought our dinners and all staid at noon, when we had a fine time playing "Still Palm," "Keeping House," and acting Charades.

Friday. We were all as busy as bees, and the teacher was very happy because we were good. At recess we all picked up the yellow leaves, and pinned them on our shoulders, as a badge of our belonging to the "Sunbeam Society;" and the first one who was not good natured, was to forfeit membership.

In the afternoon we read as usual, and then counted up the pieces of work finished off during the week, and there was quite a variety of useful and tasteful articles. Susy had a pair of Polish boots; Jenny several yards of edging; Lizzy a tidy; Sarah a bead purse; Julia a sack; Lily a bag; Annie a pair of slippers and scarf; Angelina a quilt; Abby a book mark; Mary a sampler; Emeline a pair of pantalets; Isabella a dress; besides handkerchiefs, towels, and knit dishcloths, from the little ones.

After school we visited the paper factory, and saw a great many curious operations; cutting pasteboard, coloring and polishing paper, enamelling cards, and then most wonderful of all, the making of marbled paper.

Saturday. We all said poetry, and made preparations for the coming Examination; then, after the marks were counted, we changed our desks for the next fortnight, and the _gold cross_ was given to the best scholar.

In the afternoon we went to see some Indians make baskets in their tent, and came away each with a specimen of their work. We then went to the church steps, heard an address on the subject, and were requested to read all we could find about the Indians, and at some future day to make them a subject for composition.

Sunday. I attended Sunday School, and heard a very interesting address from the Superintendent on the duty of being good, and several pretty anecdotes were told to illustrate the subject. The minister joined in the exercises, and some hymns were sung preparatory to an approaching Sunday School celebration on Fast-day. We are all very much pleased at the prospect, for we anticipated hearing some excellent speakers.

Our lesson was as usual from "the Parables," and the scholars wrote an abstract from the "Pearl of great price." I went to church in the morning, and heard a very fine sermon on the duty of a contented and grateful disposition.

SUSY A.

AN INCIDENT

_RECORDED FOR THE SAKE OF LITTLE ANNIE'S BENEFIT AND PLEASURE._

On a warm summer's day, as a class of little folks were reading from their Natural History, in flew a lovely "bluebird," of which they were at that moment reading a description.

Struck by the coincidence, they were allowed to examine his brilliant plumage, his bright eyes and little beak, all of which he bore very quietly, and then was set at liberty.

His flight was watched, and soon after he was seen to visit a grape-jar placed in a neighbouring garden, and they recognized him as one of the pets of a good lady who had often watched them from her window, whilst patiently lingering in her last sickness. All her kindness came back to their minds, and many were the pleasant things said about her goodness, and their sorrow for her loss. They remembered her care of the two blue birds, and of all the dumb creatures under her ever watchful eye; her interest for the lone and friendless, and her unwearied attendance at the sick and dying bed.

More than all they thought of the pleasant hours they had passed under her roof, and of her gentleness and affectionate manner towards them. For her sake they resolved to be good children; and all that knew her must try to grow up as kind and benevolent to all around them, as was this excellent and most disinterested woman.

A STORY FOR WILLIE.

Once upon a time, when leaves were falling and cold winds began to blow, a birthday was to be celebrated. It was too late for pleasant summer walks, and too early for winter sports, so what could be devised for this important occasion. At last it came into the head of somebody, to have a tea-party, and the idea was so acceptable, that it was declared a unanimous vote.

The one useful boy offered to do errands, and bring all the necessary articles; while the girls were to provide the feast and to array all tastefully within the school-room. Many were the expedients, strange the metamorphoses occasioned by the fete, and great was the fun thereof to all concerned.

An ironing board placed upon two barrels, was converted into a beautiful extension table, and was gracefully draped with a large white cloth. The well-worn black-board became an elegant buffet, and instead of long rows of figures, held pails of crystal water and jugs of sweet, fresh milk. A solar lamp of diminutive size graced the centre of the table, which groaned under the weight of cake, dough-nuts, bread and butter, and a variety of other articles too numerous to mention.

One of the youngest was lady hostess, and presided at the head of the table, aided in her duties by several nimble waiting maids. Distinguished guests were invited, and partook of the ample refreshments.

After a proper attention to the feast, the table was nicely cleared, the dishes washed and wiped, and every thing put into the neatest order by the young house-keepers. Then a merry set of dances followed to the pleasant music of the piano, and after those, songs and choruses pealed forth from the harmonious throng.

Last of all, Charades and Tableaux added brilliancy to the festival. Among the words chosen for representation, were "Capital," "Caprice," "Childhood," and "Washington," and the actors excelled themselves.

All had a delightful time, and after one last song, sung with warmly grasped hands, and hearts full of affection, they departed to their various homes. Who will forget that birthday tea-party, on Thanksgiving Eve?

A LETTER.

"THE VILLAGE OF TREES."

MY DEAR MOTHER:

I was very glad indeed to get your letter last week. I will try to do all you wish, though I have already been silly enough to have one or two crying spells. But I think I shall soon cure myself, for I have such pleasant times, I have more cause for laughing than tears, and I mean to keep up the good habit.

I have to study very hard, for the teacher is very particular; and the scholars are so bright, that I must work to keep up with them. Out of school we have grand times together, and this Spring we have formed a Club, which we call the "Sunrise Society;" and we get up very early and all go off to walk by six o'clock.

We have been in every direction, and I only wish you knew the delightful walks there are here. One of the pleasantest is to the "Falls," near the factories, through a narrow winding path, by the side of a beautiful pond, the waters of which flow over a dam. As we look underneath the bridge, the water rushes down with great rapidity and force, and the noise is very loud. There is a beautiful grove close by, with rocks scattered along the side of the stream, which runs quietly on after its foaming, whirling jump over the dam, and it is a very romantic spot. There are many other pleasant places, called "Rose Cottage;" "Lover's Lane;" "Sandy Valley;" "Powder House Rock;" "Spider's Village;" "Tyot Woods;" "Harrison Grove;" "West Retreat;" and "Purgatory;" and when you come, I will show them all to you.

After school for the day is over, we often walk again; so you see I shall have plenty of exercise. Yesterday, as there was no school, we all went to the Court-House, to hear some speeches by two distinguished lawyers, in a very interesting case, and the room was crowded. We went early and carried our work, but we soon had to put it away for want of elbow room. We learned something about the manner of trying a case before a jury. There was one speaker who was very much interested in what he was saying, and the ladies all seemed to like him the best; so I hoped he would gain the case, and I believe he did.

Last week the weather was very warm and pleasant, so we rolled hoop at recess and had fine fun. In the afternoon we sew and draw; and lately we have been making garments for a poor woman and her family in another part of the town.

After making up a large bundle, we all went to see her. She seemed very much obliged to us, and dressed up her children to show us how nicely the clothes fitted. We have very interesting lessons in History about the Queens of England; and besides that we have been reading about Marie Antoinette, who suffered so dreadfully in the French Revolution.

The little scholars have been reading some of "Mary Howitt's tales;" "The Cousins in Ohio;" and the "Life of Robert Swain," which is very interesting. We are all very busy with Arithmetic, and as each one gets through any difficult section, we receive a _pictured card_ as a sort of certificate. The little ones have been learning the Multiplication Table, and one of them had a cunning little slate given to her, for reciting perfectly at the fortnight's review.

Last Saturday we all went into town with our teacher, to see "Bayne's Panorama of a Voyage to Europe," and we had to write a description of it for our composition. We had a very pleasant time and it was very beautiful; though I can remember but little about the scenes, they came so fast one after another. We all liked the storm at sea, the icebergs, and the views on the river Rhine very much; but we think Banvard's Panorama of the Mississippi was the best. As we had been writing a description of the Telegraph, we stopped at a place where it was made, examined all the different parts, and had them explained to us; and some of these days we are to see a message sent to New York.

You ask me to tell you everything, so I will end my letter, by relating an event which took place in our school-room. As we were all sitting round the fire, studying our lessons, down tumbled the stove-pipe with a tremendous noise, scattering soot in every direction. Fortunately no one was hurt; but we were all very much frightened. We had a longer play time than usual, while a man was repairing the damage.

P.S. I forgot to tell you that I went to see a little play performed, called "Old Poz." We had a fine time, for all the characters were well dressed and the parts were well acted. We did not have much scenery, but that was no matter, we had such a grand curtain. After the play we had a young "Indian Girl," in complete costume, and "The three Sisters of Scio," which puzzled the audience very much indeed. I went to bed later than usual, but I had all my lessons perfect the next day; so I do not think it did me any harm. But if you do not like such things, I will not go again.

With a kiss, I remain Your Affectionate Daughter, "POLLY PRIPPETS."

PARODY ON THE MOWER'S SONG.

When early morning's ruddy light Bids man to labor go, We haste, with faces fresh and bright, Our early walk to go.

Chorus.

And then at school we next appear, To pass the hours away, And all is lively, sprightly here, Like merry, merry May.

Chorus.

The scholars come in gladsome train, And skip along the way, Rejoiced to con their books again, As flies the happy day.

Chorus.

With jokes, and jests, and lively din, We eat our recess cheer; While in the healthful game we join, With nought to make us fear.

Chorus.

When evening's shades begin to fall, In study's busy hum, We willing list to learning's call, And think of days to come.

Chorus.

We'll fill our heads with ample store, Our hearts with love are stirred; And thus, before youth's days are o'er, For age our armor gird.

Chorus.

And when life's harvest all is done, We'll give our souls the wing, And happy spirits all as one, Make Heaven with music ring.

Chorus.

CHORUS.

We scholars--dal de ral dey, We'll study and then we will play; Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, play! Hey-day! yes play--hey-day; We'll study and then we will play.

A FEW RHYMES FOR "CHARLIE BOY."

There was a brown squirrel on a tree, Hopping about so merrily; And spying below some children near, Said, "I wonder what they're doing here?"

Busy they brought both stones and sticks, And ovens and fires they tried to fix, Grand parlors too, sprang up beside, Their greatest work, their greatest pride!

And there were Emma, and Willy, and Molly, All so bright, and merry, and jolly; With Charley too, and roguish Dan, Named for the great New Hampshire man.

Says Bunny, "I'll try if I can see Anything there, will do for me;" So slyly he peeped from his high seat, As they were munching their luncheon treat.

Says Molly to Willy and rosy Ju, "Here's a piece of cake for both of you;" And in the sunshine they cosily sat, Eating and talking childish chat.

But pretty soon their play was o'er, And each went in at the school-room door; Then down came Bunny and ate their crumbs, And then sat coolly wiping his thumbs.

A STORY FOR LIZZIE.

A little sparrow who had been very carefully, reared by her mother, was one day permitted to go off by herself to see a little of the great world. Delighted with her freedom, she hopped from bough to bough, and finally alighted near a school-house.

Kindly voices met her ears, and friendly faces soon came out to watch her motions. Without fear of molestation, she picked up the bread and cake scattered round, and eyed the children with her bright black eyes.

Soon after she came again, bringing a little mate; and together they chirped their thanks, and for a long time were regular and welcome visitors.

One morning, feeling less timid than usual, one of them hopped into the school-room, watching everything with a keen interest; but thinking he might intrude, he flew away, very much pleased with the song the children sung to him. It is so pretty, we will sing it now for those who did not hear it on that occasion.

[From the School Singer.]

"With your singing, Pleasure bringing, Come sweet lovely bird again; Winter sighing Off is hieing, Joy again with you shall reign.

Fruits and berries, Plums and cherries, Now shall be your welcome meat; Come to cheer us, Do not fear us, Glad indeed your songs we'll greet.

None shall harm you, None alarm you, Sacred be your dear retreat; Love shall guard you, Love reward you, For your music pure and sweet.

Oh how hateful, How ungrateful, He who would disturb your rest! No dear treasure, Wake your measure, Softly may you cheer my breast."

THE GERMAN MUSICIANS.

On a dark, rainy day, two weary-looking street minstrels took shelter from the storm, under the projecting roof of a horse shed. Not far from the place stood a small but pretty school-house, in which might be seen a group of bright-faced and busy children; some conning their lessons, some reciting with earnest attention, and others rejoicing with childhood's happy freedom from care, at a temporary release from some expected recitation.

The teacher, during the intervals of occupation, spied out the poor wanderers, and feeling a desire to help them, she concluded to invite them into the school-room, after receiving a promise from the sympathizing circle, that the interruption should not interfere in the least with their studies. Accordingly, the foreigners, who had begun to find their covering insufficient against the drenching rain, very gladly accepted the invitation, and modestly took their places at the farther end of the apartment.

Many bright and inquisitive eyes were turned upon them; but remembering their promise, the children again turned their prompt attention to their various exercises, and while the strangers were busily engaged with some books and a slate, they soon accomplished their required duties.

As a reward for their attention, they were allowed at recess to listen to several gay tunes upon the organ, accompanied by the tambourine, and very soon their lively feet joined in a merry dance. After this irrepressible ebullition of their glee, they each played a tune themselves, and when fully satisfied, voluntarily presented the tired ones with donations from their luncheon baskets, and with flowers that decked the room.

With these the boy made a wreath for his sister's head, but the girl adorned the little image of the virgin placed upon the organ; and then after a few entreaties, they both sang some German songs. In return the scholars sang their prettiest pieces from the "School Singer," and at any familiar melody, the faces of the listeners beamed with pleasure and delight. Before the group was dismissed for home, the boy asked for a pen and paper; and during the time he was left alone, he wrote the following history of himself and his pretty sister for the teacher and her scholars.

"My name is Hendrik Glaubenstein, and I am fourteen years old. My sister Gertruyd, who is as good as an angel, is just sixteen. We have left our poor old father and mother in Germany, and have come to this happy country to make money.