- .-• - • • _ - . . . - . ' - . . . _ _ __. _ _ . . . . . • . •. .. ... . . . . . ..- - . . . •. . , . . . ..._ .. , . . , ... . . . _ .. . . . . . _ '.„ . _ . I) . . . flll ll .l_ , '.. ~-.. . 3 . . .:. . .. .. 4 . - . . . -' ".1! , , . . • . • ... • • . . . - - - • ' .', -'''''' .1 - i . ' ' -- 1 - • .. • • a i n .. .:. : - , z t k. s a ..,. , ,' l . ; 7. : .., .. :- .. - :::: , j,.! ;;., I.:-. ~ "::j: ' • _ll3 '' :' ;,I.*:. '.`.3 , ' .;::: :- • 7 ; 7..., ' -.' ~-. , ' i:_r . ' , l ' '''' ..:;, , :. :'..:_i .- . . ...: -, 11111111111 V . A .. _ . . .... . . . i . VOL. LVII. For the Intelligencer k lancasterian THE PRISONER. BY THE GLADE BARD CON7IIIED within this dismal cell, 'Mid solitude's lone shades to dwell : Imprisoned here, I know not why— And left alone to pine and die. No living object see I hero— No genial voice the gloom to cheer My prison walla are all I see, And they look dismal unto me; No joyous harbinger oomes near, My gloomy prison hall to cheer ' • Naught but my clanking chainSl hear, And they sound lonely on my ear' My parents dear, oh, if they knew, • Their child imprisoned here for years; Their hearts would break with cankering grief, Their eyes be dimmed with scalding tears Imprisoned here, but when or how, My burning brain can't tell me now ! Enough to know, that in this cell, With fettered limbs I'm doomed to dwell, Mutt out from every object dear, That could my aching spirit cheer, And cool my burning brain again, And ease my fettered limbs of pain. A captive here; no friendly voice, To whisper comfort to my soul; Ur soothe the tides of wild despair. That o'er my darkened spirit roll. Youth's happy season once I knew, When rosy health was my behest; When life was bright, and cares were few, And all I viewed seemed pure and blest But now a change—a dismal change, Has fallen o'er my once bright way; And all the scenes my boyhood prized, Are hid in darkness and decay. Ab, little thought 1, years ago, When innocence was all my owe, ' That I should be a captive here, Within this prison wall of stone Though fettered here with galling chains, . _ My soul forever will be free; The manacles that bind my limbs, The immortal spirit still clan floe Oh, God ! how painful, 'tis to be— Shut out from all we love and prize; Debarred from t ,nature's harmony, To see no more the earth and skies. Why am I here' my soul oh tell, What was my crime, that I should he Denied oven the breath of heaven, And bound in wild captivity. Even the beasts that roam the fields, And e'en the birds that fly in air; Enjoy the freedom heaven gave, Without the torturing pains of care. When I, the image of my God, Walking with form erect and free, Am bound by"man, to wear the chains Of hopeless, dark captivity. My brain; oh, how it reels and burns,. My heart; eh, how it swellslwith pain; I feel a burning anguish deep, More torturing than the galling chain. Oh, must I be imprisoned here, Within this drear and narrow room; And hear no friendly voice to cheer, The solitude, and dismal gloom; A freezing chill inwraps my form, A clammy dew is on my brow; And wild, strange visions fright my sight, With spectres dark and frightful now. Oh, horror wild. sahnt What spectral shapes do now appear; Dread forms which don't belong to earth, But in some region dark had birth. They mock my pain, with grimace leer, Which makes my prison hall more drear, And adds more deeper shades to gloom, That o'er my anguished spirit loom. I can not can not die, So binding is captivity ! The iron fetters, galling things, Have bound together life and limbs, A cankering fullness chokes my breath, Which dooms me to a living death. I shudder at the dreadful thought, That I am doomed a dweller hero INo more to tread my native earth, No more a kindred voice to hear ' The happy visions all are gone— My boyhood scenes, I loved so well; But memory still will call them back, Though in a prison's gloomy cell, E'en now my fancy paints to me, The Bowery fields, and sunny wood , And e'n the old, familiar rook, On which in boyhood I have stood. The plain, the meadow and the brook That babbied on, with silvery ohime, All rise before my vision now, Bright as in boyhood's happy timo I see again where often I iffy brothers and my sisters strayed. To pluck the flowrete wild; and cr.p The daisy, 'neath the cooling shade Tho songs of happy warblers free, That did delight my boyhood's ear, And caused my pulse to beat with joy, sometimes I fancy, still I hear' But oh, the sad, and chilling thought, To know those scenes with pleasure fraught, Are hid from me forever mfire, My anguished spirit eau' t endure No brother kind to me remains, No sister dear to soothe my pains; No kindly hand, to press my, brow, Or ease my throbbing pulses now. The thought is wild, my burning brain, Tells me that reason can't remain ! A dimming film shrouds my sight, That makes my cell a dungeon dark; The last faint, flickering flame of light Is gone, that cheered my gloom apart. Hark ! what a fearful sound is that, That wildly breaks upon my ear, The wailing of a thousand friends, From the dark region of despair ! I feel the truth—the awful truth, My doom is sealea, sna. reason Oh, save ! Oh, save ! the chord is broke, Your work is done ! I'm mast 1 I'm mad ! NEW PROVIDENCE, 1556. ANNUAL REPORT OF THE Superintendent of Common Schools in Lancaster County. Since the time at which my report for last year was submitted to the Department, I have examined several hundred teachers, visited a large number of schools, become acquainted with the directors and many citizens of the districts, taken careful notes of school houses, school furniture, condition of schools, and mode of teaching; and I am, therefore, prepared to give a tolerably authentic account of the educa tional interests and feelings of the county. These statements will be confined to facts, with such com ments as the space alloted by the Department may permit. The most important duties of a County Superin tendent, as enjoined by the law, are those of exam ining teachers and visiting schools. Examinatzon of teachers :—The examinations of teachers have from the beginning, in this county , been public, and in the presence of the respective boards of directors to whom they first made applies tion. Public examinations in the respective districts huve several advantages over thosirwhich are con ducted privately, at the office of the Superintendent. Among them are : Ist. That it gives better satisfaction to directors, who are the employers, and responsible to the dis trict. 2d. That it furnishes opportunity to parents of being present, and learning the character and qual ifications of those into who's° hands they intrust the education of their children. 3d. That it saves teachers the expense and trouble of meeting the superintendent at a distance from their homes, and enables such as are well qualified, to assume their proper standing in the district. 4th. That it affords the Superintendent an oppor tunity of explaining the school law, and making suggestions to boards of directors and teachers, that he could not otherwise enjoy. sth. That in ease accusations are made to the con trary, it puts it in the power of the Superintendent to prove the fairness and impartiality of his exami nations, from the presence of disinterested witnesses. Schobi visitatiosts.—Visiting Beheads is a much more pleasant duty than that of examining teachers, Inge more argent tie lend advice antl. - ek. to. . MINENIIII sistance to teachers, than it is to decide on their qualifications and character. The school law provides that the County Supez in tendent shall visit the schools of his county as often as practicable. It is scarcely practicable in this county to visit all the schools once during the term, and to do so more frequently would be impossible. The visitations for the past year, were commenced in October, and diligently continued with len than a week's intermission, till April, and then it was barely possible to reach all the schools before they closed. Three visitations do much good.—lt is true that the Superintendent can not do much actual teaching in the short length of time for whickhe can remain in each school, and, it is presumed,this is not ex pected of him, But his visits are advantageous in many ways • Ist. He can obtain for his own use and that of the Department, valuable educational facts concerning school houses, school furniture, schools and teachers; thus enabling those in authority, to make pointed and practical suggestions for their improvement. 2d. He can learn the condition of schools, and the skill exhibited by the teacher in its management, and thus I,e enabled to award just credit for his abil ity and success. 3d. He can correct defects in modes of teaching, suggest improvements and give directions that may be valuable to the teacher and beneficial to the school 4th. He may meet directors and parents in the school, and thus enjoy an appropriate opportunity for pointing out the relation they sustain to it and interesting them in its favor. sth. The expected visit of the Superintendent is a stimulus both to teachers and pupils from the com mencement of the term. The former work snore heartily because they see in the visitation the means by which their labors may be appreciated and made known, and the latter do so because they are anxious to exhibit creditable attainments. SCHOOL HorSES AND SCHOOL TTRNITCHE There are four hundred and twenty-one school houses in Lancaster county, and the value of its school property can not be lees than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Of these, four hundred and five were visited personally; and of the rest, seven are in West Cocalico, a district which has never put the common school system in operation ; and the others were not open at the time of the vis itation. Of those visited, two hundred and eight have what may be called a pleasant location, and one hundred and ninety-seven are badly situated ; two hundred and ninety-one have play-groundS, or grounds adja cent to them which may be occupiod as such, and one hundred and fourteen have no place to play; fifty-nine were built prior to the adoption of the school law of 1834, and one hundred and eighty two were built between that time and 1848, when the law became general, and one hundred and sixty-four have been built since I 848; one hundred and seven ty-five are all that can be called good, one hundred and fifty-five are middling, and seventy-fire are en tirely unfit for school houses ; ono hundred and two are either frame or log, one hundred and five aro stone, and one hundred and ninety-eight are brick; Lee heeAral and thirty era ventilated by ventila ting flues, allowing the window sash to fall from tai,. top) or by a ventilator placed in the ceiling, and one hundred are without means of ventilation of any kind. The ceilings of ono hundred are ten feet or more in height, those of one hundred and seventy-eight are between eight and ten feet, and those of one hundeed and twenty-seven are below eight feet ; the area of three hundred and three is four hundred and eighty square feet, (twenty-four feet by twenty feet,) or more, and that of one hundred and two below that number; (these measurements were mostly taken by the eye, and may not be entirely accurate;) one hundred and seventy have suitable desks and such as aro constructed with good taste, and 233 have desks, either clumsy, too high or too low, or other wise inconvenient. Out of Lancaster city, there are but thirty-one schools that have either globes, maps, clocks or any other school apparates worthy of the name. There are black-boards in three hundred and ninety-two schools, leaving but thirteen schools without them ; but it should be remarked that many of them are too small for all practical purposes. Location.-Too little attention has been paid to the proper construction of school houses, but much less to their location. The choice of location has been determined, too frequently, by centrality of position, regardless of ad other circumstances. Some school houses are situated in low, marshy, unhealthy places, while others have situations hot and unsha ded, or cold and bleak. The degree of exposure, the liability to interruption from noise, the adapta tion of the adjacent grounds for exercise, and still lees the beauty of the surrounding scenery, seems seldom to have exerted their due influence iu this important matter. Play Ground.—A majority of our school houses have play grounds attached to them ; but in many instances they are small, and unsuited for the pur poses of exercise and play, and in others, the open wood or the uncultivated commons furnish the only play ground. Often, when play grounds do exist, they are fenced in without taste, obstructed by rub bish, or covered over with a rank growth of weeds and brash-wood. There is also a sad want of shade trees about the schools. We have fine country school houses without a shade tree near, to break the force of the cold winds of winter or furnish a refreshing retreat from the heat of summer. There are districts, however, in which some attention is paid to this matter, and schools may be found with beautiful play grounds of half au acre, neatly fenced, and planted with evergreens and other shade trees, and, in a few instances, ornamented with beds of flowers. New Houses.—Our best school houses are those built since 1848; and no better proof is needed of the indbazed interest in education, than the improved style of the school architecture. Among these, there are school houses in rural districts which cost one mown= outia m and are well contracted, well ven tilated, and well furnisneo. 1...