jj: DJILAR PER ANNUM invariably in advance. TOAVAT\ : Thursday Morning, February 7, 1861. Stltriti Jloctn;. LET ME REST! BV ASM* *• H - VADKK. lam weary, let me rest On thy broad and tender breast; Suffer me awhile to lie Without kisses, silently, j am sick er sin and earth. In my spirit is a dearth, That no human love can fill,— Throbs, n> human voice can still. 1 am weary, let me rest ; Oh! the aching in my breast. Oh ! the thoughts that sweep along, That I cannot clothe in song, Thoughts of childhood's hopes and fears, Thoughts of childhood's bitter tears, Thoughts of days forever past. Thoughts of love that could not last. I am weary, let me rest ; Oh! that tittle word, how Mest! Pure as aught to mortals given, Seeming less of earth than hea\en . When the soul is bowed with c3re, <), how mild it breathes the prayer, r.est, the longing spirit cries ; Iteat on earth, and in the skies. Though I won :d not scorn the rest, Pound upon a himiau breast, l>t their stay wiii sometime break, .And the frightened dreamer wake. Wake, to live through loveless years, Wake to bitter, bitter tears. Dearest, let thy head and mine <)u our Saviour's breast recline ! Iftis c 111 an 10 ns. An Old Time Picture. f Wherever a railroad has mode ith wav, the old fashioned village inn disappears. It flies before the coming engine like a wild flower at tiie touch of the plough sbure. The picture of a New Yoik village inn has liecome historic —a thing of the past. It aud the stage coach were lovely in their lives, and 111 death they will not be divided. What New York country hoy—hoy twenty vear. ago ! does not remember that inn cannot shut his eyes aud see it now, as it stood a rambling structure, with low-browed " stoop " and well-worn step, and the traces of time and storm upon its battered gables?— 1 lieie was the bar-room ; here the great lire ip'nce, with its huge old knob-aiidircns, in the old fashioned winter, bearing a pyramid of ih while around it the rush-bottomed chairs jwdrawn on in a great circle. And where lis the old Boniface, w hi* " capon lined," shuf fled aMind in his slippers and stirred the towing logs with a great shovel, till they Ir sred again ? And where is the old village quire that sat there in the corner, and nightly lured the nation " from war, pestilence and limine where the village gossip that re- Itailed to the crowd of idle listeners the lemail scund/e of the day ? The walls are Icovered with old handbills ; nil tiiat remains I (I cue i.> a fragment about a carding machine, while the top of the bill, "where the wool ought to be," went away in a whiff, as it lighted somebody's pipe, while in lieu thereof " Constable's Sole," done with poor pen and pale ink, is attuched to the wall with four sections of an unfortunate wafer. Here an impassable horse is getting aw ay from an iu describable man ; there an old placard of a "Caravan " hangs in tatters, a green parrot having allighted on a blue elephant, and a r&mpaut lion having thrust his nose into the I 1 pocket of a stage driver's coat that hang 3 Irotn n wooden [tin, but grandest of all is the pc'.ure of the stage coach labelled the " En terprise," that is drawn by four spanking r •■, with three legs or so apiece, is pi tin g- I'"tErectly into a thunder cloud, while "John Jkvrsand family" stand aside to seethe r Drld go by ! I Here is a bunk, strown with buffalo robes, irooghcoat, the advertising half of an old ifspaper, a whip with an Alexandrine lash, •id & village loafer ; and there, in that dim rorner, is a cage with wooden bars pointed the tops, and a narrow shelf beneath, through which, aforetime, little green tum blers and round black bottles came and went, B 'the weather wns cold or hot, or wet and or the wind blew from the north, or "there was a great calm." Then there was the dog, huge shaggy and old, old as long ago 88 *e can remember, eld before that, forever Bs 'eep under the buuk, or forever lying with his nose between his paws in the open door. It is summer, and a summer Doon. The big yellow watch hangs motionless, the black '®ith s hammer intermits, a man lies asleep on 'he dry goods box, and the merchant stands "'il in the door. A thirsty dog is lapping •iter at the trough by the pump, and a drone " wring Lis prayers on its edge. The bar roo<n is silent, all but the heavy breath of the master and dog, and the drowsy hum of flies - The fire-place is greeu with asparagus, the winter is over and gone. Faintly in ' 8 distant is a sound—it is a bee iu the gar etl—shriller, clearer—it is a shout. Louder, er , Dearer, it is the horn of the coming t!*^' it winds np and down among ■"• notes like a bugle, abrupt and emphatic, then with a " dying fall.' The landlord arouses himself, the dog is * ' * be post master comes out upon the P B , the tailor looks out of the window.— e ratl ' e °f wheels is distinguished, the jing 'K of bo l 1 s nn( j t he crack of the long whip. fr°*? k'"' over the bridge, here it comes, s to with a flourish, and the four-in-hand Dha °P before the door with an em mukeB the old coach rock and like a ship in a swell, i ffr * r ' s tbr °®" opeu, and one woman in ' empr ? f, s ! the depleted mailbag i-, , r °"b from beneath the driver's feet ' - B 'lers aud wheel horses alrcadv ate meeting the " relief," as they defile out from the shed, the leaders gay with tassels and the bright plated rings. " All right,'' is the cry ; the " ribbons " are in hand ; two sharp notes upon the horn ; the woman in the green calash comes out again ; the coach door goes to with a bang ; the whip is whirled off with a whistle, and, by some slight of hand, explodes exactly between the off leader's two cars, and away they go, while clouds of dust roll up behind the dusty "Loot" and hide the small boy towed by the straps like a small boat astern. The " Columbian Star,'' and a letter for the lawyer are taken out of the bag ; the tailor's needle is flashing again through the scam ; the sparks begiu to fly at the door of the Blacksmith—the landlord lies stretched at length on the bunk, and the world has gone by lor a day ! Happy village ! Would that the Rip Van Winkles of the valley might awake from their long, long sleep ; but not the stage horn's herald note ; nor yet the voice of the steed whose neck is clothed with iron, with thunder, can disturb their dreamless repose ; for no sound can reach them where they lie.— Auburn Democrat. Sayings of Children. When Neliie was three and a half years old, she chanced to visit a cousin, a few months older than herself. They played harmoniously for some time, but at length a dispute arose about a few beads, of which each determined to gain possession Just as it seemed evident that a struggle would ensue, a new idea struck Nellie. Relinquishing her hold of thecoveted prize, she exclaimed, while her countenance glowed with satisfaction, at what she felt to be a conclusive argument—" Oh, Lizzie, yon should remember the Golden Rule, to be kind to each other—give me all of them." An artist allowed little Fannie to look over while he drew a landscape for her. After watching for a few moments the progress of the picture, she exclaimed—" Oh, .Mr. Wells, do tell me how you make t coy off so beauti ful." The artbt prized the compliment, al though the critic was only ttiree and a half years old. Eddie's grandmama reprimanded him for an net of disobeieuce, and told him it washer duty to let his mamma know how naughty he he had been. "Oh. DO, grandmamma," said he, " 1 would not trouble her with it." A little boy kneeling at his mother's knee, to say his evenings prayer, asked ieave to pray in his own words, and with a child-like sim plicity, said—" God bless little Willie, aud don't let the house huru up—God bless papa and mamma —God bless ine A make my boots go on easy in the morning." Little Georgie, an interesting boy of four summers, had been taught by his mother to pray, and she had otten told him that to pray to God was to talk to him, and tell him just what lie wanted. At night, after he bad re peated the Lord's Prayer, lie was accustomed to make a short prayer of his own words.— Though Georgie was generally a very good boy, and loved his parents most tenderly, yet it sometimes happened that he needed correc tion ; for, like all children, he liked to have his own way. One day, being unwilling to yield to his mother's wishes, she was obliged to punish him, for she did not wish lier little bny to grow up a wicked and unruly son. At night, when it was time for him to repeat his prayers, he could not forget his naughty ac tions ; arid, as lie had been taught, he talked to God about it in the following manner, feel ing all the while very serious, though Lis lan guage was so childish : " O Lord ! bless Georgie, and make him.a good boy, and don't let him be naughty again—never, no, never : because, you know, when he is naughty, he slicks to it so !" Would it not be well for some of my little readers to make use of " Georgie's prayer ?" Boot's JEWF.I.RY. —The following item, which we clip from the .Vet/' Hampshire Journal of Agriculture, will prove particularly interesting to ttiose who patronize "gift store"enterprises, and such like benevolent schemes to put into the hands of purchasers jewelry which is " it self worth more than the price" of the par ticular article that is ostensibly purchased. — It would be well for the public to make a note of it ! " I came through Lynn, Boston, etc., to the little manufacturing village called X. E. Village, and learned something about making the bogus jewelry with which the country is flooded either by pedlers or gift-book enter prises. One company is making ear drops of a composition called oreide, which will sell for gold, but is not worth so much as brass. The other company is manutacturing gold chains out of German silver, brass, oreide The process of making was interesting to me, aud may be to others, l'l' give it : The links are cut from wire or plate, according to the kind of chain ; sometimes soldered before putting into a chain, and sometimes afterward. After it is linked, it is drawn through a machine to even it—boiled in vitriol water to take off the scales caused by heating—drawn through a limbering machine, and dipped in acid to clean it, after which it is dipped in a solution of pure silver and finally dipped in gold coloring —making a chaiu which will sell at the rale of $l2 or $lB a dozen. This is the gift-en terprise jewelry which is marked ' Lady's splendid gold chain, sB,' or 'slo,' 'Gent's guard chain, sl2,' etc. The ear-drops cost less, aud are often marked higher." Nine-tenths of the jewelry displayed on our streets is bogus matter, hardly worth a shil ling a pound, but which costs nearly as much as the pure stuff does. The ostentatious dis play of metals or precious stones, is becoming au index of flash characters and of persons in the lower ranks. A YOUNG LADY remarked the other day that she would like to do something so as to have her name appear in the paper. We ad vise her to get some ODe to put bis name iu with hers. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY R. W. STURROCK. Half an Hour in a Railroad Ticket Office. Traveler—"New York;" planking the price of a ticket. The ticket clerk jerks out a ticket, and jerks in the money almost in an instant, without a word, aud the traveler gives place for the next comer, who perhaps has the same destination, but who occupies much more time in making his wants known, some thing after this style : " What's the faro to New York ?" " Four dollars." " llow long afore you start ?" ''Ten minutes." " Ah—er—can you change a fifty dollar bill ?" " Yes, sir." "Give me change iu Hoston money (laying out the fifty) and in five dollar bills if you can." (Change is made and ticket thrown out in almost a secoud of time.) " Do you get iu New York as early now as usual ?" "Yes, sir." " What time does the Felidelfy train leave to-morrow morning?" " Seven, thirty." By this time the gent has gathered op his bank notes, folded them up,put them smoothly into a pocket book, poked his umbrella into the stomach of a heated individual from the rural districts who was waiting nervously be ll ind him, and by the delay caused the collec tion of a half-a dozen of other applicants for tickets. Next comes the countryman's turn. [Breathlessly]—"Ticket for Boston ?" " You are in IJoston now, sir." "Oh ! oh—er ! Yes, ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! I waut to go to Plymton —ville " —[no show of money.] " Forty-live cents ?"—(waiting for a show of funds.) " Yes ; wal, I'll take one ticket." " Yes, sir, forty-five cents." Bv tliis time cent from the rural district comprehends the pay in advance principle adopted at all well-regulated railway stations; —and fishing into the profound depths of his pantaloous pocket, withdraws, in a capacious band, a miscellaneous collection, which, from hasty glauce, appears to be composed of a piece of cavendish tobacco, ft lead pencil, a a piece of red chalk, large jack-knife, u polit ical medal, leather shoe-string, ft couple of buttons, a suspender buckle, and some change. From the latter a twenty-five cent piece, two half dimes, two three cent pieces, aud four cents are laboriously extracted and deposited on the counter, from which they are rapidly swept by three or four dexterous passes of the clerk, who turns to serve a lady. " I want a lady's ticket to Providence," — depositing a five dollar note. Clerk throws out ft "lady's ticket," which bears a striking similarity to, and in fact would be called a twin brother of a "gentleman's ticket,' and also the change at the same time. Lady cautiously examines a bank note she lias re ceived in exchange. "Is this a good bill " Certainly, madam, we give none other." Lady retires perfectly satisfied. The next customer is an illustrious exile, whom we have every reason to suppose has recently fared sumptuously upon a repast in which onions must have figured conspicuously as a vegetable and moderate-priced whiskey as the principal beverage. " Shure, what is the phrice of a tickhet now to Nee Yarrk ?" " Deck passage, two doilars and a half" " Wouldn't you take a dollar and seventy five ents ? shure it's all the money I've got at all, at all." " No, two dollars and fifty cents." [Persuasively]—" Shure, wouldn't ye take two dollars /" "Not a cent less than two filtv. [Em phatically.] Pass out your money or pass on !" Put finding blarney and persuasion of no u*e in this instance, counts out his cash, which the quick eye of the clerk discovers to be a little*short of the required amount. "Three ceuts more." The stray three cent piece is reluctantly dropped from Patrick's warm palm, and the individual who succeeds anxiously inquires " what time the live o'clock train leaves," and is seriously informed "at sixty minutes past four." The next inquires—"Has Mr. Smith bought a ticket for this train ?" " Can't say, sir ; don't know him." " Oh, he is a dark complectioned man, had on a dark overcoat, and an umbrella under his arm." In consideration of the fact that about fifty " dark complexiotied " individuals, with " dark overcoats " on, had purchased tickets of the clerk, some having umbrellas uuder their arms ami some not, it is not extraordi nary that he does not rucollect which one is Mr. Smith. All the time these negotiations are going on, eager interrogators ou the outer circle of the crowd about the office are propounding questions, aud a runtiiug fire of them aud re plies fill up every possible pause. " When does the next train start ?" " Ten minutes to five." "Say you ! What do you tax to Mans field ?" " Seventy five cents." Sailor—" Purser, give us a card to New Bedford." Slaps down the gold coin, sweeps ticket and change back all into the crown of his hat, takes a bite of the weed, and rolls off to a car " well forrard." " Does this train stop at L.?" "No ! this is the express train." " Which one does ?" " Accommodation—leavos at 2 1-2 o'clock." " Ticket-'n'arf to Providence." " How old is that half ticket ?" "Hey ?" " How old is the child you want the half ticket for ?" "'Twecn seven aud eight." "Js that the boy ?" pointing to a lad about " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." eleven, who was endeavoring to make himself look as short as possible, by erookiug his legs and resting his chin on the counter. " Yes, that's him, s'pose you only charge half price for boys." "Full price for him, sir." " Full price ? why he's ouly a boy ; yer hadn't ought to charge full price." " Big enough to occupy a seat, sir ; full price if you please." The applicant reluctautly draws out the money, and the boy grows some eight or ten Inches in stature in as many seconds. " Ticket for New Y'ork," says another, throwing down a ten dollar note. The (Jerk gives a rapid glance at the bank note, fol lowed by a keeu, searching one at the appli cant, and then replies : " Counterfeit." The dropping of trie under jaw, the blank aud stupified amazement of the latter at this an nouncement proves at once the official's judg ment was correct, and that the applicant was unconscious of the character of the note uutil he tendered it in paymeut for a ticket. The Crocodile and the Boa. A foreign correspondent thus describes a light which he witnessed between a boa cou strictor and a crocodile in Java : It was one morning that I stood beside a small lake, fed by one of the rills from the mountains. The waters were as clear as crys tal, and everything could be seen to the very bottom. Stretching its limbs close over this pond, was a gigantic teak tree, and in its thick, shiuing evergreen leaves, lay a huge boa, in an easy coil, taking his morning nap. Above him was a powerful ape, of the baboon species, a ieering race of scamps, always bent on mis chief. Now the ape from his position saw a crocodile in the wuter, risiug to the top exact ly beneath the coil of the serpent. Quick as thought, he jumped plump upon the snake, which fell with a splash into the jaws of the crocodile. The ape saved himself by clinging to a limb of a tree, but a battle royal imme diately commenced injthe water. The serpent, grasped in the middle by the crocodile made the waters boil by his furious contortions. — Winding his folds round and round the body of his antagonist, he disabled his two hinder legs, and by his contractions made the scales of the monster crack. The water was speedily tinged with the blood of both combatants, yet neither was disposed to yield They roiled over and over, neither being able to obtaiu a decided advantage. All this time the cause of the mischief was in u state of the highest ecstacv. He leaped up and down the branch es of the tree, came several times close to the scene of fight, shook the limbs of the tree, uttered a yell, and agaiu frisked about. At the eud of ten minutes a silence came over the scene. The folds of the serpent began to be relaxed, and though they were trembling along the back, the bead hung lifeless in the water. The crocodile was also still, and though only the spines of his back were visible it was evi dent that he was dead. The monkey now perched himself on the lower limbs of the tree, close to the dead bodies, and amused himself lor ten minutes in making ali sorts of faces nt them. This seemed to be adding in sult to injury. One of my companions was stauding at a short distance, and taking a stone from the edge of the lake, hurled it at the ape. lie was totally unprepared, and as it struck him on the side of the head, he was instantly toppled over and fell upon the croeo dile. A few bounds however brought him ashore, and taking to the tree, iie speedily dis appeared among the thick branches. THE COOLEST THING ON RECORD. —As Gen. Scott's army was marching triumphantly into the city of Mexico, a procession of monks emerged from the gate of a convent situated ou the eminence to the right, and advanced with slow and measured tread until they met the army at right angles. The guide or lead er of the procession was a venerable priest, whose hair was whitened with the frost of many winters. lie held iu both bands a con tribution box, upon which there was a lighted candle, and when within a few feet of the ar my the procession halted. As the army pro ceeded, many a true believer in St. Patrick dropped some small coin or other iuto the old priest's box. And, when it was observed that a soldier was searching in his pockets for some thing to bestow, the old priest would step for ward and hold his box to receive the donation. Ultimately, there came along a tall, gaunt, limber-sided, gander-looking Yankee, who, on seeing the old priest, thrust his hands into the very depths of his breeches pockets, as iu search for a dime, or something of the kind. The priest, observing this movement, advanced as usual, while Jonathan holding forth a greasy looking roll of paper, commenced very deliberately unfolding it. The old priest an ticipated a liberal donation, and put ou an air of the most exquisite satisfaction. Jonathan continued to unroll piece afti r piece of dirty paper, until at length he found a piece of tri twisted smoking tobacco. He next thrust his hands into another pocket, and drew forth a clay pipe, which, with the utmost deliberation, he proceeded to fill by pinching off small par ticles of the tobacco. When this was done, having replaced his tobacco iu his breeches pocket, he stooped forward and lighted his pipe by the old priest's caudle, and making an awkward inclination of the head (intended, perhaps, for a bow,) he said, " Much obleeged to ye, Squire !" and proceeded on. A WAG on being asked what he had for din ner, replied " A lean wife, and the ruin of a man for sauce." His dinner consisted of a spare rib of pork and apple sauce. THE GAME OF LIKE. —In youth, hearts are trumps ;in manhood, dimonds and clubs, but at the close of life spades are sure to win. WHY is a dog with a broken leg like a boy at arithmetic? Answer—Because he puts dowu three and carries one. "Providentially Directed." Devoutly inclined persona frequently imagine that the suggestions of their own human na ture are the iutimations and directions of God. They love to be guided by Ilim, and they love to think that their pleasaut desires aud purposes are inspired by Him ; thus they easily deceive themselves. An amusing in stance of this took place ut a certain confer ence. Among the attendants was a very beautiful, intelligent-looking young lady, who drew the admiring gaze of many eyes, par ticularly eyes maseuliue, always on the look out for pretty feminine faces. During the intermission, at noon, a spruce youDg minister stepped up to the presiding elder, and said, with an air of secrecy : " Did you observe the young lady who sat by the first pillar on the left ? ' " Yes," said the elder, " what of her?" "Why," said the young man, " I feel irn pressed that the Lord desires me to take that lady for my wife. I think that she will make a good companion aud helpmate in the work of the ministry." The good elder had nothing to object. But in a few moments another youthful candidate for the ministeral efforts and honors, and for the name of husband, came confidently to make known to the eider a like impression in regard to the same young lady. "You had better wait awhile. It is not best to be hasty iu determining the source of such impressious," said the prudent elder. And he had well said, for hardly were the steps of the second youth cold at his side, ere a third approached with the same story, and whiie the worthy confident marvelled, a fourth drew near with the questiou— " Did you uotice the fine, noble lookiug wo man sitting near your left!" " Yes," cried the swelling elder. "Well, sir," went on the fourth, victim of that one unsuspicious girl, "it is strongly born in upon my mind, that it is the will of the Lord that I should make proposals of marriage to that lady. He has impressed me that she is to be my wife.'' The elder could hold in no longer. " Impossible ! Impossible !" he exclaimed in ati .excited tone. "The Lord never could have intended that four nun should marry that one woman!" A SCOTCHMAN AND AN IRISHMAN thrashing for a dutch farmer iu Fishkill, the former ob served to the latter, who was fresh from the bogs of fvillarnev, that in course of long resi dence iu this country he had remarked the uncommon docility of the horse, that amoug the many instances of their tractability, he had actually seen them employed iu thrashing out wheat. " Arrah, my jewel," cried Bat, "I am half a dozen years too ripe to believe that." The Scot insisted that what he said was true. And Pat, staggered at length by his serious and repeated assertions, exclaimed in tones of wonder, " And how do they hold the flails?" A GEM. Rev. Mr. Stockton, Chapiaiu of the House of Representatives, at Washington, in his address on the recent last day, after de scribing in glowing language, our glorious na tional inheritance, exclamed: " Aud shall such a heritage as this be sun dered and destroyed? Clasp thy broken staff with shame, O flag of stars, superseded aud dishonored by the pitiful Palmetto ! Start from thine eyrie, thou eagle of the morning ! j shake from thy pinions the dews of the night, aud relume thy vision in the splendor of the j sunrise, lest the rattlesnake, crawling up the I cliff, shall steal on thy slumbers and strike thee 1 uuaware." THIRTY THOUSAND APPLES ON A SINGLE TREE.:— " William R. May, ofPomfret, (Ct.) picked forty bushels of apples from one tree. He had the curiosity to count the number of apples iu one peck, and fond 190, making 700 in one bushel, and 30,400 apples grew upou the tree.'' So we sec it stated. The apples must have been rerti small. Thirty large apples make a peck ; from forty to forty five of medium size, and about sixty small ones. But here we have 190 ! They could not have been much larger than a Delaware grape. DISADVANTAGE or BEING WHITE.— " Well Diuah," said a would-be belle to a black girl, " they say that beauty soon fades ; do you see any of my bloom fading ? Now, tell me plainly, without any compliments." " Oh, no, Miss ; but deu me kiuder t'ink—' " Think what, Dinah ? you're bashful." " Oh, no, me no bashful ; but deu me kin der t'inks as how Missa dou't retain her color quite as well as colored lady.' A FRENCH paper says that bv an accident, charcoal has been discovered to be a cure fur burns. By laying a piece of cold charcoal upon a burn, the paiu subsides immediately.— By leaving the charcoal on oue hour the wound is healed, as has been demonstrated on several occasions. The remedy is simple, and certainly deserves a trial. MRS. PARTINGTON says she has noticed that whether flour was dear or cheap, she had invariably to pay the same money for half a dollar's worth. " You want nothing, do you ?" said Pat— an' if its nothing you want, you'll find it in the jug where the whiskey was" THE bill prohibiting slavery in Nebraska, has been passed iu the House over Gov. Black's veto. TnAT mad wag, Prentice, says tall gentle men are always successful, because the ladies are all in favor of hymen. AN editor of a paper iu Indiana, wants to know if western whisky was ever 6ecn "cumin' thro' the rve VOl_i. XXL. —NO. 36 (fktaiional ftpatfmtat. THE SCHOOL MISTRESS. t Besiui: an unfrequented road, The rustic school house stood— Its modest front and moss grown roof Half hidden by the wood. Around its latticed windows clung Sweet flowers and fragrant vines, Aud just In front—like sentinels— Grew two protecting pines. Few trav'lers ever pasasd that spot. But stopped awhile to gaze Upon a scene that brought to mind Their happy scbool-boy days. And none e'er turned away but left A blessing and a prayer, For both the Teacher and the taught Who daily gathered there. i It was my lot one summer morn, To journey o'er this road. And there for full au hour or more I rested with my load ; One after one across the fields, The tidy children ran, Ambitious to secure their seats Before the school began. A score of faces, bright and clean. Soon gathered at the door— A happier group I've seen not since And never saw before. The merry shout—the ringing laugh. With music tilled the air— And iny sad heart forgot Us grlofs, The sin'ess glee to share. Ilut soon a watchful child proclaimed The mistress near at hand, And murmurs of delight were'breatbed Throughout the little band. I'll ne'er forget that lovely face— I see it yet in dreams— And ever to my spirit's evo An angel face it seems. As rapidly she pressed the turf And passed the easy stiles, Her glowing cheeks and rosy lips Were wreathed with radiant smiles. Amid her charge she stood at last— Each answered to her call: Her usual greeting then I saw— A kiss for one and all. This o'er she led them in and soon Low murmurs filled the air ; I listened breathless and in awe, To her impassioned prayer. The sweet " amen " the children said : Aud then a hymn they sung— And then I heard the studious hum From every busy tongue. I trust I was a better men When I resumed ray way, Aud never shall ray heart forget The lesson of that day. (J God ! on that young Teacher's head I.et thy best gilts descend ; As she to those young sinless souLs, Be thou to her, a friend. Permanence of Teachers. [Extract fmn\ report made by Hon. J. T XOKTOX, on the schools Of Farinineton, ft., to the Legislature, May Ibid.] The chief advantages of a continuance of the same teachers are uniformity of discipline, and systematic arrangement of studies. It is as reasonable to expect a child will be trained when placed every six months under the charge of a new guardian to exercise parental control, as that cur children will be well dis ciplined under a constant change of teachers. It usually takes a teacher, particularly a good one, half a season to get his pupils well train ed in his harness ; while an experienced teach er in the same school will have them all ready at once for their work. Hut the chief objection to a change of teachers is a constant chauge of studies, and methods of study, which have an effect to dis sipate the mind and render the scholars super ficial. A new teacher cannot know the state of a scholars' mind, or his qualifications to en ter a particular study, as he wishes to exhibit to the parents great improvements in his pu pils, he puts them into new studies or new methods of study, and pushes them forward, so that they may appear to have learued a great deal. However successful he may have been in his nudertakiugs, his scholars can only have begun to acquire a perfect knowledge of their studies or peculiar methods of study, when another teacher comes in with different studies and methods, atid those of the previous * teacher are laid aside, unperfected. Some few scholars have sufficient talent aud indus try to break through with the difficulties and become proficients ; but as a general thing, much of their knowledge is superficial. Go into such a school aud question a scholar of ' 12 as to his studies:—"Have you studied grammar ?" " Yes, two winters.'' Question him, and he understands not one principle. " Have you studied geography ? Yes, four years.'' " How far have you studied V "To Europe." " Why have you got no further ?" " Because every teacher puts me to the begin ning." And so on in arithmetic, history, Ac., and still worse in writing. Xow our schools with permanent teachers have as regular a sj stein of studies a? they have in college ; and when a scholar has thoroughly completed one, he goes into another. And little valuable can be acquired in any other way. It fs true, this slow and sure method of improvement may not be so striking to a parent, but its utility it very obvious to tlie school visitor. Audwhilo be may hear some parents suggest, that an improvement may be made in this or that by a change of teachers, he may reply, it is true some things might be improved, no teacher it perfect in all thiugs ; but you will not find one teacher in a hundred, who, all things consid ered, will do as well in your school as the one you now have. I would therefore advise you by all means to continue him. As a general fact, a competent efficient fe male teacher in a summer school, will, if cou tiaued in the same school, make a better teach er for the wiuter syhool, than any tnale teacher iu her place.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers